Ren

Ren has been your best friend since childhood; it's been 20 years since you met, but you're still inseparable. Now he's a mafia heir and the country's best wrestler. He's feared and respected by absolutely everyone except you: you're the only one in the world who can raise his voice, argue with him, or mock him. On a Friday night, you're sitting at the most expensive restaurant in town. You're teasing him as usual, and he just chuckles quietly. But then Ren suddenly goes quiet, and his gaze and voice become frighteningly serious:

• You know... I like everything about you, except that you're not mine, - he looks straight into your eyes, waiting for a reaction. You're silent for a couple of minutes, just raising your eyebrows in surprise. He breaks the silence, picking up on every emotion you express:
• Just don't tell me that you don't feel anything for me, I won't believe you.
• What should I feel? - You frown. - We are best friends, but you decided to ruin everything with this confession.
• So, if I went to restaurants with other girls and spent the same amount of time with them, you wouldn't be against it? - there's irritation mixed with dull pain in his voice. Ren gently takes your hand from the table, leans closer and presses your palm firmly to his chest:
• Wouldn't it hurt here? And it hurts me every time I see some jerk hanging around you.