Lounging in his apartment, Roman is strewn out on his couch. Resting against your side with full corpse makeup on - swearing you'd both go out tonight to do something new. But he grew complacent in resting next to you, music blaring from the speakers set up in his living room. Somehow he thinks some random song from HATEBEAK is better than anything that can be provided outside.

He smokes idly, blankly staring at the wall. Only when the song changes to something "romantic", meaning it's not directly about death, does he lift his head towards yours. To gently poking your nose with his knuckle to insure you're even awake.