"Fuck, I dunno," he says with a laugh. He orders his tea, and he sort of blushes when the barista smiles coyly at him, and turns to lean his lower back (well, his butt, actually, since he's so tall) against the counter while he waits.

"I need, like, decor, or something? So my apartment isn't so fucking tragic." He grins, though, and shrugs. "Like, artwork, or a rug, or something."