[log] now you can't await your own arrival you've twenty seconds to comply

[whatdorosesmean]

"-thank you, truly. Yeah. Have a good day." It's only a few moments after Nick gets off the phone that the cell rings, and for almost a full minute he thinks about not picking up. In the end, of course, he does.

"Dr Hardaway. ...hello, no. No, I'm all free. ...All right. All right. Good day, then."

Right.

Incoming Alya, then. And no

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[sadova]

Not long after, Alya Sadova--dressed in her six-thousand-dollar businesswear, heels and pinstriped trousers and all of that--is at his doorstep. She knocks, and chooses not to wonder whether or not he's got furniture yet. That's part of why she's arriving. If the evidence is unsatisfactory, steps will be taken to correct as much.

They're almost like friends, these two.

[whatdorosesmean]

Nick is rather less impressive, in his loose pants and an untucked button-down shirt, barefoot when he answers the door. It's hard to tell from just there if he's furnished the place. He greets her a little dryly, "What a surprise. Come in, Alya."

[sadova]

"As a general rule, it's actually customary to greet people with some variation on hello," she tells him, blandly, as she steps across the threshold and into the front hallway. The place gets an openly assessing critical once-over.

[whatdorosesmean]

'Minimalist' is a generous description of how Nick has and has not decorated thus far. He gives her a vaguely amused, vaguely tolerant look when he closes the door again, strolling back towards his living room.

The walls are about as bare as they were the last time she was here. He's furnished the living room with absurd Sumo beanbags rather than an actual lounge suite, but there is a table (with one actual chair) in evidence, and he's slowing filling his bookshelves.

Of course he had bookshelves before he had anything else.

"I've never felt very beholden to customs."