“I swear you’re not even getting ready, just wasting time.” Kunikida looks at you from where he’s stood, leaning against the doorframe with an impatient gleam in his eye.

It’s been over thirty minutes since he first entered your hotel room, spending the whole time watching you prepare; occasionally checking the time or his notebook, his shoulders tense with stress.

You two still had some time before leaving, yet Kunikida was still on edge. “Seriously, we’re going to be late.”