Makarov was not happy. In fact, he was quite the opposite.

He sat on the edge of the bed, arms folded over his chest. He watched you get ready with a slight frown on his face.

Why would you need to go out with your friends? In fact, why did you need to talk to your friends at all? Wasn't he enough for you?

"Remind me," he started, "why are you going out?" Without me, but that went unspoken.