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By the time Mikhail left his room, his new housemate had already unpacked dinner, had taken her plastic tub of food and was sitting on the couch. A "Lets's play" review video of a rogue-like game was flashing across a TV that had been haphazardly placed atop a stack of boxes in lieu of somewhere better. She had what he assumed were her pajamas on, and her legs were stretched out, with paws resting atop a low-sitting coffee table as she ate. She didn't even so much as flick an ear as he padded over to the breakfast bar where the brown takeaway bag sat.

Mikhail could feel the insides of his ears flush as he grabbed his own food. Her silence was poignant and he couldn't help feel ashamed. He hadn't meant to be rude earlier, really. It's just that, well, it was all a bit much. All of it. The whole thing.

God, how could he even be expected to look a room mate in the eyes after the run-in with his parents, let alone everything else? His mother only meant well but seemed to quickly forget that he wasn't her little malysh anymore, and going away to college was breaking a little bit of her heart, he was sure. But she had spent so much of his life protecting him from the world, and it was fair time for Mikhail to go out and make his own mistakes. It was hard enough for her to accept he was going to college, and he thought it best to perhaps let her have this one last moment of fervent mothering before her little pup left the den for good.

Unfortunately for Mikhail, her one last hurrah also involved letting her help in packing his suitcase, and sequestering himself in the bedroom was his way of dealing with the realisation that, whilst his mother had both made and bought him brand new clothing for college, almost all of it was ghastly or covered vividly in prints designed for children. He had no choice but to don a pair of vivid pajama pants, decorated in prints of crime-fighting cartoon canines with little paw-print badges. He could practically hear his mother's admonishing voice in his head - "What, Mikhail, you don't like puppies?" Even his bed sheets were cartoon characters. He had two choices - either he never left the room again, died here and would be long gone before anyone discovered his shame, or he had to put on a brave face and satisfy the growing growls of hunger that insisted he leave the room whilst dressed like a grade-schooler.

Mikhail grabbed the remaining takeaway container in the paper bag, as Zoe's ears flicked at the rustling.

"I, uh... I assume this one is mine?" He said, sheepishly.

Twisting in her seat, his flatmate threw an arm over the back of the couch to look at him. "Yeah, I wasn't sure what to get you so I got honey chicken. It's not spicy or anything."

"Thanks. A lot. For the meal, I mean," he stumbled over his words as she looked on. The height of the breakfast bar blocked the view of him from waist down. "Did... Did you want chopsticks or anything?" He grabbed the pair sitting in the bottom of the bag and held them up.

Zoe's other arm came up as she deftly clicked the pair in her paw together. "No thanks, already got mine." She turned back towards the TV for another mouthful of food, apparently done with their exchange.

Mikhail could feel the fur on the nape of his neck prickle. He wanted to simply curl up on the spot and vanish from existence. He could feel his toes curling on the cold tiles in an uncomfortable fidget.

"Look, uh. Do you mind, uh, can I sit?" He blurted out, food and chopsticks cradled in his arm. Smooth, you big dumb idiot. Really smooth. Why don't you drop your dinner while you're at it?

Zoe gave him a quick glance over her shoulder, and he could see the hint of a smile curling at the edges of her mouth as she scooched over and patted the couch cushion next to her. He was committed now. Up to this point, Mikhail could have simply vanished back into his room and lived the rest of his life as a hermit, as far as he was concerned. But now? He had to be out here. I mean, he wanted to be out here with her, but... The lanky wolf chewed the inside of his cheek as he walked over to the couch and sat down heavily. It was lower than he was expecting, and he fell back into the seat, barely managing to keep his dinner in the container.

Zoe laughed, surprised. "Are you right there?"

"Ah, yeah. Sorry," he muttered, aware that his legs were far longer than any anticipated audience of the couch. And the glow of the TV illuminated the bright blue, yellow and white print of his pajama pants like a beacon, signaling to what felt like the world that he was the biggest mamma's boy in existence. Mikhail did his best to simply eat his meal without dropping his chopsticks, and to keep to his side of the couch as if the line in the cushions were the border of two warring countries. He wanted to talk to her, tell her that his parents really were lovely and that he wasn't nearly this awkward with his friends back home, but breaking the silence between them almost felt criminal. As the minutes passed, Mikhail realised that his chance was growing smaller and smaller by the moment. Zoe had almost finished her own meal, and it was getting late. Finally, an ad break presented itself.

"I, uh. I'm sorry," he muttered. Zoe looked across, confused. "For earlier. With the dinner stuff. And not coming out. And the box. And my parents." Apologizing for being born felt like it might have been appropriate, too, given how the conversation was going. "It's just that... Well, I..."

Zoe held up a paw and smiled as she stopped him. "It's okay. I think it's been a pretty big day for everyone, huh?" Her tone was disarming, and Mikhail immediately felt himself understood by her.

"Yeah, you could say that," he gave a short laugh.

"Your mum seemed really nice, by the way. I can tell how much she absolutely adores you. I imagine it's a pretty big deal for her - you going to college?" Zoe was softly spoken, but cut straight to the point.

Mikhail gave an awkward grin and his ears flicked forward. "Perils of being an only child. You never really grow up in their eyes, you know?"

He watched as her eyes darted briefly to the print of his pants and back again, trying to hide a smirk behind a mouthful of beef and failing.

The wolf chuckled and shrugged. "Case in point. Yeah, you can mention the pants. I know."

At that, Zoe had to throw a paw over her mouth as she laughed explosively. "Oh my god, I was trying so hard not to ask, but I didn't want to be rude... If it's any consolation, they look really comfy!"

"She made them for me before I left, wanted to make sure I stayed warm since she wasn't sure if the dorm rooms had central heating and all that," he grinned. "Aaaand, she decided to pack all my clothes in pretty much the same style. It was easier just to let her, rather than trying to argue. I figured I could just buy some new stuff while I was here."

Zoe's eyes went wide. "Noo! She did not! Did she? What, all of them?"

Mikhail stood up from the couch, putting his half-eaten dinner down. "She absolutely did. Come and see what I have to deal with," he gestured for her to follow as he walked to his room.

His room mate followed closely, giggling with a mix of horror and disbelief as he gestured to the neatly folded piles of clothing layed out across the quilt. All were in the most hideous shades of khaki, green and yellow, or featured kids cartoon and film characters front and center. This included the bedspread itself, which was lovingly handmade from material featuring animated cars with large-eyes and comical expressions.

"I once helped my dad rebuild an old pickup and it kind of became our 'thing' to try and fix an old beater every Spring Break, so this is her way of acknowledging I like cars. Also her way of making sure I can never, ever bring a girl back to my room the whole time I'm at college," he grumbled with a smile.

"Hey now," Zoe chided. "That's not true at all. See right here, on your very first night of college, you have a girl in your room! You're already living the college dream!" There was a sweetness to her tone and the following laughter that made something inside Mikhail feel a little giddy.

"Huh, you know, you're right. That's not a bad track record now, is it? Mum will be so proud of me." He said, thoughtfully and with only a small amount of sarcasm. "And in true college jock fashion, I'm so very sorry, but I've already forgotten your name."

Zoe grinned, turning and sticking her hand out for a handshake. "It's Zoe. If it's any consolation, the only reason I remember your first name is because your last name terrifies me! I saw it in the note from the accommodations department, and my god if you don't mind me saying so, with where I'm from I had never seen so many letters in the same place before," she shook her head. "How do you even pronounce it?"

This genuinely amused Mikhail and he couldn't help but belly laugh. "You're not the first person to ask, and you won't be the last. It's a lot easier said than spelled. You say it 'VOZ-nuh-SEN-skee', or at least that's the closest English comparison without teaching you a whole new mouth sound."

"Well, maybe we can wait until a little further into the semester before you teach a girl a whole new mouth sound, huh?" She laughed and winked.

This was going to be a most interesting year.