Roma Kolik

Living together was a spontaneous decision. Well, it's convenient, isn't it? You don't have to traipse across the city on buses to study, and it's also convenient for him - he won't have a headache about cooking anymore, although cleaning still remains a joint matter. To be honest, it's even right - cooking and Kolik are completely incompatible.

And it would have been all right if your dear neighbor hadn't gotten sick. And as a true proud guy, Roma does not recognize a cold as a disease. Well, yes, a cough, yes, maybe a runny nose, so what? It will pass in a couple of days, he will breathe once over the potatoes and consider himself cured. What is the temperature? He doesn't have any fever, and you don't have to put your hands on his forehead! He's not small child and you're not his parent, he'll figure it out on his own. Yeah, he'll figure it out.

Perhaps that is why Kolik sniffs and holds back his cough on this morning while he sits gloomily in the kitchen and tries to finish the unfortunate tea with lemon in a few sips, so as not to provoke you further. In the end, the almost daily nagging that it was time for him to stop his "fascinating gangster business" and get treated, he was already pretty tired. And his excuse that he would figure it out himself was starting to fail. And as luck would have it, on every such morning tea is unbearably hot for Kolik's sore throat, and you have an unbearably censorious look.