The sound of loud knocking at his door dragged Noah from sleep like a bucket of cold water.
He groaned, rolling onto his side. What the hell was someone doing at his door at this time of the morning?
The sunlight leaking through the curtains was too bright, and far too cheerful for how early it felt.
Whoever was knocking was persistent though, and after the fourth round of knocks, Noah gave up trying to ignore it.
"Yeah, yeah," he muttered, his voice thick with sleep. "I'm coming!"
He swung his legs off the bed, wincing at the chill of the floor under his feet, and shuffled to the door.
When he pulled it open, the last thing he expected was to see a short man with a neatly trimmed curly moustache and an air of judgment already on his face.
The stranger stood there with his arms crossed and a large rolling rack of clothing beside him.
"Ah, finally," the man said gruffly, as if Noah had made him wait an eternity. "You're awake."
Noah blinked, disoriented. "Who are you?"
