He hangs his head at the suggestion, something caught in his throat that might be an explanation that even if he did go back to where he came from, it's not like there's a home waiting for him. Instead of saying anything, he hefts up his bag and rolls his shoulders like he can roll away the rejection. "I don't think there'd be an open door. I was on my way to a friend's house."

Except, this looks like a hotel and it'd be a place to stay. "Does this place have space, do you think?"