O little revolution in great shades!

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He chuckles and looks down to the pad of paper he's leafing through. "I hope, then, that I can do your face and form justice," he replies.

He's seen a woman naked before, but this time, it's different. This time, it's something a bit more intimate even than laying together. One of the artists he knew had told him that art involves putting a piece of the person into the image one is creating of that person.

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Titus tilts his head a bit and rises as Dean stands up. "Your brother knows much about this matter of trouble? He would not think me mad once I described to him these frightening circumstances?" he asks. Considering the kind of hereditary madness that seems to run through the Groan line, it's likely something he's concerned about, even if he doesn't know what's the cause behind it. "I am not adverse to it: in something like this, I suppose that I need all the assistance that I can obtain. Lead me where you will."

So, continued from the night of the Morgoth attacks. Shall we go for a Titus-Dean-Sam arrangement?

He's quivering a little as he leads her to the door of his room, the one that Delilah brought him to when he was recovering, but he feels far more confident than he did before, when Iphigenia led him to her room. He opens the door and turns back to her. "This is my room," he says, looking in through the door. "I hope you like it." It's a fair-sized, airy room, well-lit, with a wide, comfortable-looking bed, the covers turned back as if someone was airing the covers. Or as if someone was making the room comfortable for two young lovers.

More adolescent fumbling and sensuality... Titus, you are becoming quite promiscuous...