Hogar.

I would be tired. So tired after an exam. It would be a long, long day and I would get home looking down. I would just throw my bag in the floor and then just lie on the sofa while I see nothing but the white ceiling over my head. I would open my eyes back in life after an hour of a very needed siesta with your kiss in my forehead and your bright smile in front of my poor and fuzzy vision until it became sharp. And then my lips would fall in yours as my heart does every morning since I met you. And I would smile. 

The sun would be looking for our skin searching all around the room, just as we would do right there. In the sofa. While TV just shuts up. While the world just keeps moving as if there is something more important than we two. While people keep arguing about nothing relevant. While people keep driving down the road. While sounds keep pushing the windows.

And we would be nothing special but everything we could be. While the TV just watchs us. Then we would just take some ramen and sit in front of the computer to see a movie. Any movie. While the world just keeps moving as if there is something more important than we two. And we would tell each other how our day was and how awful our tasks are while people keep arguing about nothing relevant. And you would just do the washing while people keep driving down the road. And we would be the voices that keep pushing the windows, the walls, the sofa, the TV, the carpet, the kitchen, the bathroom, the bed of our home.