Scott taps his foot a little faster against the floorboard, his eyes narrowed behind his sunglasses as he stares up at the ceiling, doing his best to be patient. Patience is one of his few virtues, especially when it comes to you, but it had been almost an hour now— and he was beginning to feel like he was at the end of his rope when it came to all this. You weren’t going to be early, which already made him anxious, but worse; you two might be late.

It had taken him a total of five minutes to get ready. It’s not like it was necessarily hard to pick between a simple navy sweater, or a simple black one. But you had a totally different view on things, something about ‘dressing to impress’. Scott doesn’t know why you have to impress a group of people who you’ve known for years now, but he’s trying his best to be as supportive as possible.

He stands a little straighter when he hears the bedroom door open and tries his best to look excited. Your outfit… didn’t look any different than it had before, even he knew better than to say that out loud. “You look great,” He manages because while he believes it to be true, he does not want to be late. “Let’s go.”

To his horror, as he’s ushering you at the door— you catch your reflection in a nearby surface and are looking far too thoughtful for his tastes.