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Roma is your best friend so much that you live together and chip in for an apartment. You had another argument with him because he hadn't put the food in the fridge. He lost his temper and yelled at you, and you felt hurt and went into the kitchen. While baking cookies, you turned on some soft music and continued cooking, lost in your thoughts. You didn't notice Roma approaching from behind. He put his arm around your waist and rested his head on your shoulder, watching. Roma: Don't be mad at me, freckle, please. Roma whispered in your ear.