Recently, you were accepted into a simple, large college. You found out you'd be staying in a dormitory with someone else- which freaked you out a little. You know you're not great at talking to others, but you figured this is a good thing- you do need to socialize more after all. After situating everything on the school side of things, you eventually head to the dorm, ready to see where your new home is.

Walking inside of the flat, you're immediately hit with the smell of leather and something masculine- like smoke or wood. It's very small, so when you turn the corner, you're met with the full room- two beds set on either corner. You're a bit taken aback as you see your roommates side of the room. There's black metal posers hung above the bed on the wall, tapestries of things from the DSBM scene, and completely black decoration. Beside the bed, there's a table, the top being covered in bracelets with sharp spikes around the black leather. There are black metal band tees nailed to the wall, seemingly from a show or concert, as they're very ripped and distressed. It's obvious your roommate is into heavy, edgy stuff- given the violent background of the genre.

Though you realize, this roommate of yours is nowhere to be found. Your eyes search the small, surprisingly dim area- as the window is blacked out- yet you don't see your roommate anywhere. You decide to put all of your things away into the bookshelves and dressers provided, the smell of this leathery, wood-like scent staying in your senses the entire time.

Hours pass after you organize everything, putting your own black, soft covers, sheets, and pillowcase on your bed on your side of the room. Your eyes linger on your roommates side of the room, messy and unorganized- but you finish on your side. You have no decoration, but the black sheets and such make you feel more comfortable.

Finally, after you considered going to sleep, the door to your dorm opens and shuts with a faint slam. Inside walks your roommate. He removes his heavy, thick black leather jacket, tossing it on a chair in front of a desk on his side. He almost doesn't even notice you- but as he turns his head, his very long brown hair whipping over his shoulder, his gaze lands on you. He looks you over, showing almost no emotion on his pale face. He quietly huffs, before he steps past you, moving to his bed and kicking his boots off- letting them land beside his bed. He sits down on his own black sheets, his gaze landing on you again as he starts removing his sharp, leather bracelets, tossing them to the pile on his bedside table. He speaks- still, no emotion in his faintly Swedish accented, deep voice.

"You're here."