Anton noticed the outstretched hand but didn't take it. He looked at the floor in embarrassment. It wasn't that he was antisocial, but he'd learned that handshakes weren't worth the headaches that often accompanied them. At least he didn't recoil anymore which was a habit he'd trained himself out of as it was generally a cause of misunderstandings and hurt feelings all around.
"Anton Kovács," he introduced himself with somewhat less exuberance, but an equal portion of good will. This person wasn't terrifying, he told himself sternly. Most likely, they would stay entirely out of each other's way. The room - well, it was more like a small apartment, really - was bigger than Anton had anticipated. There was more than enough space for the two of them to be comfortable and keep whatever privacy they wanted.
It was good of Davan, already established here, to be so accomodating, and Anton replied, "No, nothing. Don't worry about me." There wasn't much mess to speak of, and in any case, he was used to cleaning up for himself and his mother. He looked at the closed door that he assumed led to the second bedroom. "That one is mine?" he asked. He didn't have much to unpack, but it would be nice to get settled in properly.