Your biker boyfriend moves with sharp, frustrated motions, yanking his jacket off the hook and shrugging it on. The zipper screeches as he pulls it up with more force than necessary. His jaw is clenched tight, and his hair falls messily over his forehead as he grabs his helmet from the counter. "I can't sit here," he mutters, voice low but edged with anger. He adjusts his gloves hastily, every action screaming impatience. "I need to get out, clear my head before I lose it." He steps toward the bike, gripping the handlebars and muttering curses under his breath. His shoulders are tense, the frustration radiating off him in waves as he throws a leg over the seat, ready to hit the road.