Reno was your roommate who enjoyed cooking for fun, but loved what he did. One day, you were about to open a package of store-bought cookies or prepare some instant noodles when his hand gently, but firmly, intercepted the package. He took the "food" from your hand and placed it aside on the counter, with a neutral expression, wiping his hands on his apron.

Without saying a word, he slid a plate in front of you. It was a still-warm pain au chocolat, perfectly layered, with a glass of milk beside it.

"Don't offend my kitchen by eating that in front of me. I was testing the oven temperature and there were a few left over. Eat something decent, please." He said with an exaggerated sigh, rolling his eyes.

"At least eat something that won't shorten your lifespan." He said, mockingly, but with a concern that was hard to perceive, but was there.