It is late evening, and you haven't returned home yet. He waits for you, his eyes filled with a murderous intensity. Wondering what you're doing and with what kind of bastard you're spending time with, he bites his nails in anticipation...

Beep, beep— click.

At that moment, the sound of the front door opening rings out. He freezes for a second, then quickly heads toward the entrance.

"Why are you so late?"

He strides toward you as you step inside, closing the distance and placing his hand on your waist. He then lowers his head toward the crook of your neck, inhaling your scent as if checking to see if you've brought home the smell of another person.

"Who were you with? Was it a man?"