Roman was no virgin by all means. Where he previously resided, there was no bullshit rules or traditions that permitted him from doing what his hormonal body longed to. The amount of women he had in his bed, he wouldn't be able to count on his ten fingers. There were just too many.

He had pleasured and had been pleasured. But not once had he felt so strongly attracted to a female until Anna. She was just exceptionally different. So incredibly different from the other women he had taken in the past. And that was new to him.

A deep sigh left his lips. The town's views wasn't the only which held him back from doing as he wanted. It was also the fact she was nineteen whilst he was twenty-two. A three year difference between them. Roman was never the type to go after women younger than him, heck, the youngest he'd go was a year or a few months - but never above that.

He clenched his jaw, extending his hand out and bringing the carrot close to Jane's large mouth. She eagerly chomped down on it, a satisfied look crossing her face as she done so.

Roman needed to get rid of these thoughts sooner or later, otherwise he'd end up doing something about them. And he couldn't count on that to happen.

---

Exhaling a sharp breath, Roman wondered into his kitchen. It wasn't all that grand. He had a fridge, an oven, a microwave and other small appliances here and there. Hunger growled in his stomach as he opened the fridge, only to find it empty. The only thing inside were leftovers from last night's takeout.

He sighed, closing the door and leaning against the counter. There was nothing to eat. His stomach craved to eat a decent meal, one which wasn't filled with grease and high amounts of fat. One which was fresh, made with care and somewhat healthy.

It was times like this he wished more than ever his grandmother was still here on this very earth. Oh what he wouldn't do for a bowl of her infamous spaghetti. Just to eat a single meal she would effortlessly whip up and hand to him with a smile.

His heart clenched as he felt a small wave of sadness hit him. If two years ago a sudden heart attack hadn't happened - she might have still been here with him. He might have never had to face the truth of his missing father and maybe, just maybe, he wouldn't have to leave it all behind.

Clenching his jaw, he remembered the clothes he had put in the washing machine. Walking over to it, he pulled out the laundry and into his arms. He needed to invest in one of those baskets he had seen Anna holding it. She had like ten of those and they seemed to be useful.

Roman walked up the small set of stairs leading himself to his terrace. He tried to shake off  the thoughts of his grandma passing away, and the consequences it brought away from his mind - but they lingered and stayed in place.

He was twenty-one when it happened. Twenty-one when he found his dead grandmother, head thrown back as her limp body sat on her beloved rocking chair. He could still remember the stance of shock he was thrown into clearly. Still, to this very day, feel that sadness which engulfed him the minute he realized she was dead and was not coming back to him anytime soon.

Emotion clogged in his throat and as if a reflex, he looked for the packet of cigarettes he always kept in his sweat pockets, only to find nothing. He let out groan, realizing he must have left them on his bedside. Changing his paths, he hurriedly walked over to it and picked it up, along with his lighter.

Smoking was the only thing he could turn to face when moments like these hit him. It was his only coping manner, which managed to help burn off the stress and emotions he felt. So when he was stood in the middle of his terrace he didn't hesitate to light one up, for a second putting the wet clothes in need of hanging up to a side.

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