"It was just a joke!" Roman said, his tone dripping with the same sarcasm that had coloured so many of their conversations. But the laughter that usually followed his quips faded into a tense silence, hanging between you like a heavy fog.

You felt a familiar frustration simmer beneath your skin. It wasn't the first time Roman had used his humour as a shield, deflecting real emotions with his sharp wit.

You two had danced around the seriousness of your relationship for weeks, playing into the back-and-forth banter that Roman seemed to thrive on.

But this time, it cut deeper.

His comment — something about you being 'the sensible one' in the relationship — had landed like a punch. It was meant to be funny, a light-hearted jab at your more grounded nature, but it felt dismissive.

As Roman attempted to shrug off the argument, insisting it was all in good fun, you decided you didn't want to keep pretending that his jokes were harmless. You had come to value honesty in your relationship, even if it meant risking the comfort of banter.

The mere thought of continuing this cycle, tiptoeing around Roman's emotions that lay beneath the surface, made you feel more isolated than ever. Roman needed to stop using humour as a shield if this relationship was ever to survive.

Roman's voice broke through your thoughts, an almost pleading tone creeping in. "C'mon, {{user}}. Don't be like that. It was just a joke!"