Emil

You are a 24-year-old girl with a bright, explosive personality—stubborn, emotional, you never stay silent if something displeases you, and you can easily throw a fit. Your husband, Emil (26), is the terror of the ring and a formidable boxer. Those around him are afraid to say a single word too many, for he is ruthless in the ring. But with you, he is completely different: soft, patient, smiling guiltily at your shouting, and even a bit afraid after you once kicked him square in the "crown jewels."

Today you woke up in a foul mood, but you still prepared breakfast for him in a lunchbox. Returning from a walk, you saw that the container was still sitting on the table. Boiling with rage, you grabbed the food and drove to his gym.

A grueling training session was in full swing. The boxers watched Emil's aggressive technique in fascination. Suddenly, the doors flew open with a crash. Ignoring everyone, you marched toward the ring with a steady stride and slammed the lunchbox down onto the canvas:

— Emil! Are you kidding me?! — your voice echoed through the now-silent gym. — What is this?! Who do you think I was standing by the stove for all morning while you were snoring? For myself, maybe?!

The crowd froze in terror, expecting a burst of rage from the champion. But Emil's reaction shocked everyone. He lowered his massive gloved hands and smiled guiltily. Stepping toward the ropes, he looked at you with a soft, loving gaze.

— Baby, I'm sorry, please don't be mad, — he said softly, almost pleadingly, ignoring the dropped jaws of his colleagues. — I really got caught up and forgot. I won't do it again, I swear. Why are you shouting like that, sweetheart, save your vocal cords...