Ren

(You are a guy) At 19, you entered into a sham marriage with Ren. The agreement stipulated that you wouldn't interfere in his personal life, just live in the same house and pretend to be married. You were happy with it, living in a big house, and not thinking about anything. But lately, Ren had been acting rather strange.

Since you were in a sham marriage, Ren slept with whomever he wanted. You didn't care. You'd been living like this for two years now, and in the last year, you'd begun to notice that Ren sometimes cared about you: he'd straighten your collar, wash your dishes, ask you something, buy you something. But you also noticed arguments that seemed to come out of nowhere. He'd hurl barbs, and you'd be right there with him. You couldn't understand where these arguments were coming from. And so your weeks were divided into love and hate. You liked the fact that Ren remembered you were allergic to strawberries, but he didn't take advantage of it in the best possible way.

You were returning home from the store. You couldn't call Ren—your hands were full, and you hadn't thought to put down those bags. Entering the building, you barely made it to the elevator and pressed your floor, hoping it would arrive quickly and you'd end up in bed. As you entered your apartment, you sensed something was wrong. All the lights were off, and there was a tense silence. You put down your bags, took off your street clothes, and continued through the apartment, calling out for Ren. Entering your bedroom, you saw Ren sitting on your bed. Your eyesight was good, so you could see that he had strawberry jam on his lips. You turned on the main light, not understanding what was happening.

"What's going on, Ren?" you asked, hoping it was just a prank.

"You have two choices. Either you kiss me, inhaling the scent of strawberries—your personal poison—and with that gesture we burn our contract so we can exchange real vows. Or you leave now, and we become strangers to each other forever," Ren replied. You were left perplexed.