I'm tired of my husband Charlie's obsession with... Mustache. I don't know what went through his mind, and it happened while I was leaving my business trip.

                  - Charlie, why?!- I widened my eyes.

                  - I'm not pretty? My ancestors wore a nice mustache, and I am a Lord Mortdecai. So why can't I have one?!- He said, stomping his feet hard on the floor.

                 - It's not that you're ugly, or can't get one. The question is... why the obsession?- I said calmly, frowning.

                   He took my hands and we began waltzing across the room, causing a confused expression on my face and Jock's, who had just arrived.

                - Stop, Charlie! I'll just kiss you when I decide to get it off your face!- I replied, going up the stairs, towards our room.

                 Charlie, dramatic as he is, followed me and put his foot in the door, making it impossible for me to close it.

              - Dear! I won't live without a sweet kiss from you. Not your hugs and much less "it"!- He knelt down, grabbing my legs, then pulling away and eyeing me mischievously.

             - "It" can wait!
   
             - Why, baby? Give me a kiss and everything will be fine.- He pouted, moving closer to me.

             - I am going to try.- I pressed our lips together, feeling different. But contrary to what I thought. It was a good difference.

             - How was it?- He asked.

             - Different... But good!- I pressed our lips again.

Even though that mustache is an obsession, I like it...
A lot.

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