Dropping my box by the door with a soft thud, I scanned the room. A sagging coffee table sat in front of a worn-out couch, its cushions mismatched and fraying at the edges. The faint smell of something citrusy hung in the air, not overpowering, but just strong enough to remind me I wasn’t the first person to live here.

The silence was unsettling. I debated whether I should call out—maybe a casual “Hello?” or something equally awkward. But then I heard the faint creak of a floorboard somewhere deeper in the apartment.

I froze, unsure of what to do next. The footsteps were getting closer.I waited, my hands stuffed into the pockets of my jacket, trying not to look like I was casing the place.

When they finally appeared, stepping into the doorway at the far end of the room, I wasn’t sure what I’d been expecting—but it wasn’t them.

They paused, leaning slightly against the doorframe, their face unreadable. Tall and wiry, they had an air about them that felt at once casual and cautious, like they were trying to decide if I was worth the effort of speaking to. They were wearing sweatpants and an oversized hoodie, the sleeves pushed up to their elbows. Their hair was tied back in a loose bun, with a few strands curling against their cheek. In one hand, they held a mug, steam curling lazily from its rim, filling the room with that same faint citrus scent.

They didn’t say anything at first, just looked at me. Their eyes flicked to the box near my feet, then to my soaked-through jacket, and finally back to my face. It wasn’t an unfriendly look, but it wasn’t exactly welcoming either.

I cleared my throat, shifting awkwardly. “Uh…hi. I’m Kian,” I said, because apparently stating the obvious was all I could manage under the weight of their gaze. “Your new roommate.”

Silence.

“I, uh…Liam didn’t really give me much to go on,” I continued, trying to fill the silence. “Said I’d probably…‘love’ you? Whatever that means." I let out a nervous laugh that felt completely out of place.