"Nothing that's particularly striking me as must have, unfortunately. I had high hopes." Still, he was feeling drawn to the vases in front of him, though he couldn't entirely explain why. He smiled though and glanced over at Quentin with a soft expression. "I'm surprised you haven't lost yourself in some random novel yet while I admire handblown glass vases and less-than-ideal paintings."
His words were gentle and teasing, and he chuckled a little to himself before looking back at one particular vase in front of him. There seemed to be a smudge of something near the handle and he picked it up for closer inspection, his eyebrows knitting together slightly. "Weird. And also disgusting. I think this vase has like... mold growing on it?" Eliot's face contorted a little, but before he could put it down, the 'mold' shifted and moved closer to his hand. "Uhhh, Q? The mold definitely just moved. Either that or I ate an edible at some point today and forgot."