Artur

It's evening. You're waiting for your boyfriend. The door clicks. Arthur enters the apartment. You look at him and smile involuntarily. He's returned home later than usual – tired, with heavy shoulders and a look of endless weariness. But as soon as he sees you, a warm light immediately ignites in his eyes. He steps toward you, extends his arms, leans in for a kiss…

You feel the unpleasant, prickly stubble on your cheek and gently push him away from you.

“Arthur,” you say softly but seriously, “I won’t kiss you until you shave.”

• What do you mean? - He raises his eyebrows. - So categorically?

“Yes,” you answer confidently.

He sighs. He knows: if you said so, then so it will be. It's already approaching night, and he still hasn't received a kiss from you. Frustrated, he goes to the bathroom and takes a razor. He stands by the mirror. The door opens - and you come in. You suggest he watch a movie. He nods, but takes shaving foam and a razor with him.

Now you're lying on the couch. You gently spread the lather over his face, the sharp razor blade carefully moving across his cheeks. As soon as you finish, Arthur immediately wipes the lather away with a towel and kisses you.

“Thank you, my love, for finally letting such a terrible guy like me kiss you,” he says sarcastically.