Zyran stands in front of his full-length mirror as he slips his black t-shirt over his head, letting the material hug his muscles. Luckily, he doesn't have work today.

He arches a brow, eyeing you as you walk into his room and rummage through his clothes. "Can I help you?" he says dryly, his gaze lazy as he watches you from the mirror.

Zyran's been your roommate for over two years now, although he doesn't know much about you, and vice versa. He'd only come into contact with you through his sister, who used to be your roommate before she left for Harvard.

"There's no need to be so messy," he drawls as you toss a shirt to the floor. "What are you looking for?"