Damian

The sham marriage was supposed to last only a year. No love, no feelings—just signatures on documents and mutual benefit.

But living together turned out to be a real test.

You irritated Damian with your habit of throwing things around, and he drove you crazy with his pedantry. Almost every day ended in another argument.

Today it all started with a trifle.

"How long can we leave mugs all over the apartment?" Damian asked wearily.

— How much can you make comments on any matter?

• Because you never clean up after yourself.

• Really? Then don't look!

• This is my home too.

• That's right, yours, not mine!

He exhaled heavily and shook his head.

• Sometimes I don’t even understand how one can live with you.

This phrase was the last straw.

You turned to him abruptly.

• If you don't like something... get out!

There was silence in the apartment.

Damian looked at you silently, didn’t answer, and walked towards the utility room.

You were sure that he was really packing.

A minute passed.

The door opened.

He returned with the sleeves of his snow-white shirt rolled up and a vacuum cleaner in his hands.

Damian looked at you silently for a few seconds.

And then, without saying a word, he walked past, opened the door to your room and turned on the vacuum cleaner.

He started cleaning your room.