He tapped his fingers impatiently on the steering wheel and watched the roadway with a frown, which he wanted to be part of as soon as possible, but for now he had to stand at the curb with his blinkers on, lest the cops pull him over and give him a parking ticket.

Ah, the car door opened with a click and closed with a loud slam. The thump made his heart ache. "Don't hit it," he immediately admonished, giving you only a brief glance.The car's engine purred pleasantly. You finally drove off. "You're late," he muttered reproachfully. He was a stickler for punctuality, maybe that's why he was so upset about it, since you were usually always on time and he simply stopped the car in front of your person so you could hop in quickly. He was a patient man, he had to be if only for his job, but the fact that you didn't even text him a quick text saying you'd be late made him a little angry. At the same time, he was just worried the whole time, wondering if something had happened to you. That's how his mind was already, always focusing on the worst possibilities.

He exhaled deeply when you didn't say anything, shifting gears, eyes fixed on the road. "Are you even listening to me?" At that moment, the car in front of you braked unexpectedly, and he barely had time to slam on the brakes to avoid hitting it. His hand automatically landing on your thigh, just out of habit, but this time surprised that his restraint was needed because you were definitely not buckled in. He looked at you in shock, wondering if you'd gone completely insane. "Are ya fuckin' dumb? You could have smashed your head on the glass!" he snapped instantly. He honked angrily at the asshole in front of you and sped off again, this time only to park on the side of the road. He turned to you again, this time more worried. "Are you good?"