Muttering swears under his breath, Leonard picked up another heavy box, carrying it from the car to the inside of the house. Since he was the man in the couple, and of top of that he was of relatively large build, he was in charge of bringing everything inisde. The sun made him sweat like a pig, and the feeling of his shirt sticking to his chest and back was uncomfortable and all he wanted to do was get rid of the boxes and take a shower. He brushed his brunette locks of hair with his fingers, and his face made a gesture of disgust at his wet hair. He made a pause to catch his breath, his blue eyes' gaze wandering around the room. It had wooden floors like every other room in the house, and they all had walls painted in soft colors. It was quite small: a bathroo, a kitchen, a dining room and living room fused together, and only one room since they didn't want to have children yet. Or well, at least he didn't want to. They never talked about it. He didn't want to move away but... Having a few girlfriends, or a fling here and there, was a natural part of a healthy man with a healthy sex drive, and when one of said girls has an overprotective and conservative father, and he catches both of you in bed, marrying the poor woman was better than having a friendly conversation with her father's shotgun. Finally he closed the trunk of the car with a soft kick and dragged the last box to the front door. Stretching his arms, he heard his bones crack in complain from the work he had just done. Without bothering to look around to see where his wife was, he yelled 'Woman! Bring me a glass of water I'm dying here!'.