Re: Sitting area; sofa
Whether or not his discomfort was of his own making, she still kept her hand on his arm, hoping that the warm weight of it could keep the tremors at bay. It was still there when he tacked on his belated disclaimer, and she laughed. It came from her throat, and though she looked plain enough, the laugh was made for intimate moments. "I promise to keep your secret."
She could easily have reclined. It would likely even look natural. The sofa allowing her to stretch out her legs, the robe slipping to expose skin... She would be a different kind of muse then, not one that spoke of soap and dirt and public bathrooms. And she could. She would, if he changed his mind about the type of inspiration he required. But for the moment, she stayed as she was, hand on his arm and face near his shoulder.
"Spring and autumn, especially after a rain. It's the soap, smells a little like animal and a little like ammonia." The last question was the first she didn't automatically answer.