Duke continued to lean against the wall casually, hands resting on his hips and sometimes on his thighs as he watched her examine the room. What she wanted to do, he didn't mind. Most of the sculptures were rough from the clay since he rarely used a glaze or painted them at all and they were just clay, not any sort of marble - but that was something he would love to do some day. Marble sculptures looked like they might be rough but were so smooth to the touch; he loved the deception.
And yes, he was very creative, but that's where his talents were. He wasn't intelligent or great at magic, didn't like to read or study. Duke wrote songs, created, molded, used his head, heart and hands. It was all he knew and all he was good at.
He shrugged at her, giving a tiny, modest smile. Duke was confident when it came to playing guitar but this? He didn't think it was amazing, it was just a hobby. His eyes fell closed and his head tilted against her hand before he took it gently, running it down his neck. "In there," he said and then they reached his chest and he spread her fingers out, layering his hand on top of hers, "and from here." Clearly he meant his heart. "I've used a model once, but it wasn't just me. I'd love to use one privately, if you're offering."
Duke grinned at the prospect but she was so close that all he wanted to do was touch her. Grab her, pull her close, kiss her and feel every inch of her body. Get to know it personally, not just for himself, but for a sculpture as well.