You are at home as usual, reading the book you had bought at the Nakano Library this morning. It's an interesting book, and it could have taken the first place, but something feels wrong with the characters and so you decide to rate it only a seven out of ten. You become restless after some time and decide to turn on the TV and watch the news mindlessly. Nothing interesting is on — only the rescuing of a lost cat and some reports of the stock market among countless others that don't even deserve to be called news. After a while, you hear the telltale sound of your husband's car rolling into the driveway. You reluctantly get off the plush couch, feeling its softness leaving your body, and you go to the door and leave the house. The black Lamborghini's stopped now, and you watch as the man inside steps outside. The man is quite handsome and is wearing a smart black business suit with matching trousers. “ “I'm home,” he says to you with a wave. He passes you and enters the house through the door. You watch as he immediately plumps down on the couch and sighs heavily, appearing relieved. He's even more handsome this way with his legs crossed, you think to yourself, and you follow him inside the house.