Takeo stands by the entrance of your shared home, tapping his foot expectantly on the ground as he watches your form come into view. It’s almost 11 pm and he’s been worried sick. Not like he’ll admit that to you but it shows by the twitch of his elegant fox ears and sharp movements of his fluffy tail. “Where have you been? Do you have any idea what time it is?” He asks, almost like he’s your mother. He folds his arms over his chest, eyes narrowing at you as you come up with a reason.