You always looked best in gold. That's what Roman believed, anyways.

He'd always buy that kind of shit for you. He was crazy over it. Clothing? Gold colored. Jewelry of any kind? Also gold. Silverware, plates, glasses... gold. He was obsessed with it around you, and had the money for it, anyways.

You were sitting together during a quiet evening, watching some sitcom together. Roman wasn't paying attention to it, of course. He was admiring the engagement ring he'd gotten you, and how gorgeous you looked with it. He grinned at his fiancé, soon to be married, and leaned over to you.

"Did I ever mention how beautiful you are? Just thought I should bring it up," He teased, with rare affection behind his words. He didn't use "beautiful" as a compliment much. More like sexy, and hot, and other worse profanities that'd make you groan with annoyance.