Joaquin smiled at Luc's little joke, nodding. "I suppose you're right. It's um... Well, it's a nice place to live even if I um, don't really decorate it that well." If he really wanted to, of course Joaquin could decorate the place better - but he didn't really care. It was a mishmash of knick-knacks he'd accumulated over the years, tacked up prints he'd made of his photography in hopes of inspiration, framed works of favourite artists.
"Oh, um, really?" Maybe he shouldn't have called today, then. "Guess um, I just had good timing or something, then..." He didn't really think so - it felt more like an unfortunate coincidence - but he was at least going to be polite and not more awkward than he already was. He led Luc into the living room - which seemed the incorrect name, it was more like a room for painting that happened to have a very, very rarely used couch in it - most of his time spent in the room was near the window, painting, and when did he ever have guests over? "Sounds, um... hectic."
The two canvases for Luc were propped up side by side on two easels, and as soon as Joaquin spotted them again, he felt impossibly self-conscious. Was he going to like them? What if he didn't? He'd tried a few times to keep him updated, but their schedules didn't really seem to work and... really, it was so much easier to just avoid the man to save them both from the awkwardness of the situation. Gesturing toward them with his hand, he swallowed nervously, forcing a smile. "So um... Here they are. If there's like-- um, anything you want changed, let me know..."