At the tip of a headland in Moraira, where the pine forest meets the rock and the rock meets the Mediterranean, the house resolves itself in a single gesture: a horizontal line that rests on the cliff without trying to dominate it. The entire home sits on one floor, arranged so that every room faces the sea.

The roof is a thin, dark slab that floats above the glass. Beneath it, the programme unfolds lengthwise: a single continuous plane where kitchen, dining and living spaces follow one another without partitions, while the bedrooms keep the quiet of the far end. The sea-facing façade dissolves into a sequence of large glass panes that erase the boundary between inside and air.

Inside, the material palette stays warm and precise: oak on the joinery, travertine in the solid pieces, dark lacquer in the kitchen and natural fibre on the seating. The low afternoon light settles on these warm surfaces while the continuous floor draws the eye toward the horizon.

A sheet of water runs along the entire south side and follows the house to the edge, until it merges with the sea beyond. The native vegetation —pine, low scrub, bare rock— is left as it was; the architecture simply opens a clearing and holds a view. At night, the house glows like a single lamp resting on the slope.

A house that does not impose itself on the landscape: it lies across it to see it better.