The door opens. No one enters. Not from floor level anyway. If one were expecting such things, they may spot the small blue creature crawling around on the ceiling. Or perhaps they'd notice the very audible noise of something scenting the air. Stitch hoovers in scent molecules, eyes narrowed slightly as he takes stock of the place.

Coffee. Leather, furniture, carpet, turtle, waffles, elephant...? He blinks. And shrugs. Snufflesnufflesnufflesnuffle.