James tilted his head curiously as she began to make a suggestion; a call for the two of them cut her short and while he was interested in what she was going to say, it was completely forgotten in that moment. He gave a small laugh, "Good - I love the night time," He told her a little bit proudly. Any time before the sun came up or after it went down was the most desirable time of day for James simply because it was quiet and so easy to get lost in a different world there. As they walked back to their parents, he remembered something she had mentioned and finally decided to address it, "Er, yeah... I try really hard to hide it, but I'm really bad at art... I can't do a lot with my hands... Like, uh, up here," He said, motioning to his head, "I can have a perfect picture of what I want to see, but... When I try to make it, it just comes out bad," he said. After a moment of thought, he smiled, "Also, science... A lot of people don't get it... like the teachers keep saying that math and science need each other, but they don't... It's only science that needs math," He argued, clearly trying to hide his agitation at the common comparison.

Sasha's polite demeanor was well-received by James's parents, though Matt continued his light heckling every now and then, it was beginning to feel more like natural joking than actual teasing and James would quip back at him. The car was finally unpacked and everybody had begun to resign to their usual evening activities after Peter vetoed the request to go to the cinema. Rather, he took up a book and sat in his chair in the parlour. Matt took the remote for the television and sprawled onto the sofa as Mrs. Delacourt was off... doing something... mom-things, they would all assume.

"Hang on a minute," He said brightly to her as she asked what they could do and he disappeared, the sound of his feet pounding up the stairs filled the house for several moments.

The parlour was a cozy little den as the sound of Doctor Who's millionth season filled the room, Matthew staring like a zombie with a smile plastered across his face. A gas fireplace was turned off nearby but it added a bit of a gentleness to the atmosphere. The coffee table had a cabinet attached beneath it which was home to various board games as well as a rather nice chess set. James's father and brother were notorious for never letting him win a game while his mother always seemed to make a move that would deliberately lead to her loss. Only once had James seen noticed a falter in his brother's attitude at one of his moves, but it was quickly cleared and the older sibling overtook him... But that taste of victory was reassuring, at least, that he was improving. Nearby, one could see the cover of Peter's book - it read [i]Number9Dream[/i] with the name "David Mitchell" printed along the edge. The man fixed his reading glasses and would glance over at Matt, then to Sasha and (when he was in the room) James, keeping an eye about the room every now and then. The curtains were drawn, but the soft glow of streetlamps peeked through slightly.

Another series of thumps sounded as James returned in a pair of gym shorts and a cleaner shirt before he entered the parlour once more and sat down near her. "Uh, well it's up to you, there are lots of games in the cabinet there, I brought down my dad's old games, or we cou- Gah, Matt, would you turn the telly down? We're trying to talk."

"And I'm trying to watch!" The older brother argued back, the volume rising once more.

"Boys," Peter cut a bit sharply, "Cool it. Matt, turn it down, I'm trying to read - James, maybe you and Sasha could go up to your room, or any other room, so that Matt doesn't keep cranking the volume up on this drivel?"

Both boys seemed offended for a minute, but James was surprisingly the first to speak, "It's not drivel - it's a great show," He stated factually, "Just too loud and I've seen this episode a million times... I really don't know how Matt likes this one... I hated this season..."

An argument seemed ready to boil over between the two before Peter cleared his throat, "Another room, James," He chimed, though it was clearly a warning. "My god, you two can make a fight out of anything," He muttered as he rolled his eyes.

"Fine," the boy sighed, "If you wanna play something out of the cabinet, we can grab it quietly before we go wherever... I'll bring the games," He said, motioning to the decade-old handheld and its pile of Pokemon, Zelda, and Mario games. The thing was in great condition for its age; though the devices and games weren't exactly ancient in the gaming world, they were certainly long-forgotten by most of the new generation.

Once they had gathered their things and left the room, James awkwardly tapped the floor with his foot, "We can go up to my room if you want; it's, uh, kind of a mess, but... I mean, there's plenty of room," He said, "Or the dining room has a table and stuff - whatever you wanna do," He suggested with a shrug. "And we can start with whichever game you want - you're the guest."