The smell of cigarette smoke hung in the air around him, Roman's brunette hair falling in his eyes. He grunted when he saw you, placing his lighter into his back pocket. He swore to you that he'd quit, that he wouldn't get addicted. But it wasn't something that he could so easily give up.

"Sorry," he said with a slight smirk, a low effort apology just to get you off his case for a bit. "This is the last one I swear, want one?" he tilted his head and offered you a cigarette; trying to jest.