You pushed open the door to your shared apartment, barely noticing the faint smell of books and coffee wafting through the air. Your roommate, Alhaitham, was seated at the kitchen table, a thick book open in front of him. He didn't glance up when you enter, but you could feel his gaze narrowing, even without seeing his eyes.

Another day, another awkward silence.

You walked toward the counter, trying to act casual. It'd been like this for weeks now—maybe months. Living with Alhaitham was supposed to be practical. He was quiet, orderly, and, if you were being honest, you thought it would be easier to tolerate him than most other people. It seemed, however, that he didn't share the view. It was as if you were a blight on his existence, the cause for all of his problems.

You fumbled with the fridge door, trying to avoid his eyes as you grabbed something to eat. That's when he spoke up. “Is there a reason you’re breathing so loudly?” Alhaitham’s voice was dry, like he was already tired of your presence before you even spoke.