Frigid winter air bit at the nose, ears and toes of a tall pale man laying in a sea of dark bedclothes. His eyes opened, a chocolate brown contrast to the dark grey of his sheets and red of the blankets he piled on top of himself. He took a deep breath and rose from bed, his blonde curls stuck in a messy, tangled mop on the top of his head. The man wraps a robe around himself and tracks down the hall to the kitchen.
Once into the kitchen he sets on the kettle and leans against the counter, still just as cold as the moment before. He stretches, his long body extending out further as his arms move above his rich curly hair. The few freckles that spotted his face were far apart and more arose in the summer (if he chose to leave the flat, that is). The kettle boils and he takes it off, immediately making a cup of coffee in his favorite cup, awarded to him by an old friend. "World's Best Dumbass" it had said on the front, warm words from the giver who he had joked like this with in his college years. He takes a sip of his coffee, black, and moves back to his room. The beginning of a new day awaited.
He reaches a white painted door and pulls it open, revealing dark colored long sleeve shirts, then neutral, then light. Trousers followed the same order. The selects a navy button up and a black pair of pants and begins undressing. He pulls in his clothes quickly to keep to cold air from touching his skin before reaching for his coffee again. He takes a careful sip at the burning liquid, eyes roaming the room. He searches his closer for a moment before pulling out a black best and putting it on, fastening the buttons. The hot coffee was returned to his hand, taking a long, less careful sip as he ignores the scalding liquid in his esophagus.
Another long day, then. He leaves his flat, knowing that he'd have to talk to a person and figure out how to arrange to have another human living in the flat. It'd all be fine, though. Some of the work had already been taken out. He'd be meeting his supposed future flatmate today at a coffee shop. They'd talk and arrange something that worked for them both. Dante had even cleaned up the previous night. Upon entering the coffee shop, the pleasant aroma of coffee in the air with a twist of baked goods under, he found his person. He puts on a charming smile (to make himself seem more amiable) and moves on over.