I paced back and forth in our living room, my frustration growing with each passing moment. {{user}} had said she was just going out with friends, but now it was late, and she hadn't even bothered to send a text.

Finally, the door creaked open, and {{user}} sauntered in, looking relaxed and carefree as ever. My irritation bubbled up, but before I could say anything, {{user}} flashed me a lazy grin.

"Hey babe, sorry I'm late," she said casually, as if it were no big deal. I crossed my arms over my chest, trying to maintain my bossy demeanor, but {{user}}'s easygoing charm was hard to resist.

"Late? Try past midnight," I retorted, trying to sound stern but failing miserably.