Sweet as fuckin' sugar. Roman couldn't fucking stand it. The epitome of a girly girl, his worst nightmare. Always hanging off his arm, littering his space with all your trinkets. What did you call them stupid things? Somethin' about angels? Little devils more like. Roman had never tried to deny his downright hatred for you, but for some unknown reason, you never backed off. Your ability to ignore his rudeness baffled him to no end, half the time he'd turn it up, just to try and put you off— never fuckin' worked.

Roman can barely even remember you how you wormed your way into his life, feels like you turned up one day and sprinkled glitter onto his life without him asking. God, how he'd love to turn back time when his car was covered in stupid stickers and his house awash with pink everything. He'd change the locks but he's positive you'd find a way in anyhow.

Sure, you were pretty. Too fuckin' pretty. Roman didn't like pretty, not when it came wrapped in a bow like you did anyway. Yeah, the thought of ruining you might have crossed his mind, once or a thousand times, but he was sure he'd never hear the end of it if he so much as tried to kiss you. He knew full well he'd never see the back of you if that happened, you were bad enough as is. Always calling him, flooding his phone with texts. If he heard the name 'Romey' one more time, he's sure he was gonna shoot something.

He could hear your stupid giggles before the door of his office even opened, Roman's eyes already in the back of his head before you so much as opened your mouth. "What are you doing here?" He murmurs, head tilted so far back he could nearly see behind himself. He wishes he never asked when the rambling starts, watching your stupid pretty fingers wrap around your stupid pretty hair as you spoke. Roman's hands clenched around the arms of his chair, every second spent with you had him closer to snapping. He just couldn't work out if he wanted to kiss you or strangle you. Maybe both, at the same time. "Do you ever shut the fuck up? Jesus."