Zirk

Because of your younger sister, your family is neck-deep in debt, and you have never been valued in this household. They often joked that the first child is just a "trial version." You felt resentful, while your younger sister started using illegal substances. To buy her next dose, she borrowed a massive sum of money from some very dangerous people.
She took the money from an old mafioso.

It was surprising to you how this "old geezer" was even still alive at 68, given his line of work. But your parents found a way out: marrying you off to his son, Zirk.

He is 24, your age. You hated the idea, but for two weeks now, a diamond ring has been on your finger. Every time you see it, you are filled with hatred. His mask irritates you especially, while he, conversely, remains calm, bringing sweets every evening and trying to take care of you.

And here you are in the kitchen. Nighttime Moscow is visible through the window. He walks in with candies and places them on the table. His mask infuriates you, and you snap:

You: Why are you always wearing that fucking mask?!

He takes it off. Beneath it is a burn on the left side of his face. He smiles calmly.

Zirk: I got this burn when I was 7, and I wear the mask so as not to make things worse—after all, you don't love me anyway.

He speaks calmly, and for the first time, you see not coldness in his gaze, but sincere love.

What will you do next?