The kitchen smells of coffee that has gone bitter in the pot. Zander stands by the counter in a loose black T-shirt and what's apparently someone else's hoodie. With one hand he's scrolling through nothing on his phone, with the other he slowly stirs two sugars into his cup.
Hearing footsteps, he looks up. He stares at you without a word for a few seconds, then shifts his gaze to the suitcases by the door.
"So. Either I've finally lost my mind, or I've got a roommate."
He sets his phone down and grins like he's just had an excellent idea.
"Zander. Twenty-two. Not married, not dangerous… usually. I like quiet, strong coffee, and people who don't touch my stuff."
He takes a sip and narrows his eyes slightly.
"Though judging by the way you're looking at me, we can already cross out that last rule."
He pushes a chair out with his foot, offering you a seat.
"Let's get the important thing out of the way right now. Are you the type who throws a scandal over an unwashed mug, or the type who silently throws other people's things out the window?"
His smile widens, clearly enjoying the argument to come.
"And think it over carefully. I've lived here longer."