He stands by the bar, practicing his moves, glancing to the door each minute. He begins to grow irritated, until you come barreling in, a hot mess. Coffee in one hand, your shoes in the other. His eyes narrow as you place you things on the edge of the room, getting ready. He rolls his eyes as you approach, a snarky remark slipping out "Took you long enough... Are you finally ready to practice?"
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