Dean chuckled. "I've been doing a lot of the same actually, so nothing new to report here. I've noticed that it gets pretty quiet here sometimes," he said as he pressed the call button for the elevator and before he could stop himself, he added: "I bet Sammy would love this place, though." Well, it looked like one of them inevitably had to bring up a sore subject, by the look of it.
"Sam. My brother," he explained. "It's funny. I keep expecting him to walk through that front door like no time has passed at all." Of course, logically he knew that that would never happen. He witnessed his brother get sucked into Hell. That kind of thing you didn't get over (or so he thought, anyway). He went silent for a moment. There wasn't at least thirty seconds of every day that he didn't think of his brother.
He cleared his throat, wanting to change the subject. "So, you said that you live in a two bedroom? Do you have a roommate, or are you bunking it alone like me?" He held up a hand. "You don't have to answer that if you don't want to." Personally, he wasn't used to being alone. He hated his own company. He wondered if asking for a roommate would make him seem weak or pathetically lonely, but maybe that was something to consider down the track.