Roman had seen Brooke intoxicated enough for it to not really phase him, but he did manage to raise his eyebrow at the way she greeted him. It pulled him from his lethargic, tired state and aroused him enough to walk inside less sleepily than before. After closing the door, he looked back to see who Brooklyn was talking to, not being surprised when he saw it was Makayla. Because he tended the view the two as one, he instinctively looked around for Holly, then listened for a brief second, before figuring, after hearing the water running the bathroom, that she was probably showering. "Hey, Makayla," he said as he walked over to where the girls sat. The mood of the room evaded him, but he did notice, in passing, Makayla's demeanor, but he wasn't sure if maybe she always looked like that. She wasn't the kind of girl to smile all the time, like say Chanel, so if anything she appeared more like her usual self, but in the back of his mind, he thought there was something different. He reasoned that it was just in his head, though, since he couldn't come up with a solid reason. Roman sat the gift bags on the counter, forgetting them again as he turned the scene in front of him. Thinking back to what Brooklyn had said, he began to smirk, impressed but also humored. "Are you seriously drinking her stuff?" he said addressing both of them, but looking at Brooklyn. He tiredly shook his head then before turning and going to one of the cabinets for a glass. It was strange being back in his old apartment, but only in the way that it was odd revisiting some place old that you were connected to. He wouldn't call it nostalgia so much, but perhaps the fact that just a month ago he was living here and now he was a guest, at best, but still moved freely and comfortably as if nothing had changed. Granted, not much time had passed, but the liveliness of the place from the lights and tree made it appear like more was happening, that more time had passed. He slid his glass to Brooklyn, saying, "You're the mixologist."
Afterwards, Roman sipped from the glass, feeling newly tense beside Brooklyn. He was only just now realizing the sort of entanglement he'd entered from sleeping with Cara. It wasn't much of an argument about it being unfair that he got kicked out after everything that happened with Cara, Brooke, and Nick, because Roman didn't have anything to do with it. And even though now it wasn't like he had to fear his housing situation being repealed, he was now a part of something. Running it through his head, he rolled his eyes to him self and exhaled as he took a larger swallow. Within the next second, he decided to let it go for now. There wasn't anything to worry about because no one would find out anyways, and even if they did, they wouldn't have the right, at least in his mind, to be upset with him. He wasn't dating Nick or Brooklyn, and it only concerned them by an awkward association that wasn't deep enough to render anything sentimental. It was just one of those things, he told himself, even though he wasn't sure what he even meant by that. "Oh yeah," he said once he caught sight of the bags on the countertop. "These," he said, sliding them towards Makayla and nodding in her direction. "Are for you and Holly," he finished, before quickly adding in, "Not from me though. They're from Cara." Knowing that it was as weird as it sounded, and now wishing he'd just told Cara to drop the bags off herself, he was quick to change subjects. He looked towards Brooke, his voice more aggressive, only from familiarity than actual anger. "I didn't get you anything either," he said, which wasn't true, and it was mostly meant as a joke, but he was purposefully trying to be provoking for no real reason other than it was how he always was with Brooke. His tone was drier than it normally would have been, only because his energy low, but he did notice that he felt more at ease being back in familiar territory and far away from Lenox Hill and its current events.