Angel raised a brow as he finished the first bookshelf and studied it. Beautiful. Handcrafted. Hand-polished. Made with the care of a pair of hands that truly, truly knew what they were doing. And they did it slowly. Knowingly. He sighed, standing to set the bookcase against the far wall. It would accompany its taller brother there. "I suppose that's what you think." He shrugged at the young man, whose name he didn't even know yet. Maybe he'd deduce it eventually. "You can think what you like. My intentions were innocent enough---I figured I'd get to know the person I'm spending two years with, at the very least." But he was the 'rich kid' type. He probably hadn't lifted a hammer in his life, probably hadn't had to clean his room himself, or look after siblings. Or take care of animals. How sad... He'd missed out on so much, perhaps. Angel went to the second stack and bag, beginning to put the second case together. So much would line them when he got his bags emptied.

And then he'd put together his desk. Beautiful thing, just like the bookcases. How nice it was that the headboard was the same wood tone as the rest of his. And he was sure his mother had slipped the curtains from his room into one of the bags. He'd be able to even add those to his side's window, too. Like a tiny slice of his home. Soon it would lose its overly-cleansed scent and be like him. And he still had to investigate the bathroom, put his things in it. He would live here for a long time, after all. Even if his roommate wasn't much for conversation.