Pacing left and right restlessly nonstop, hands hooked behind his back, he glanced at the clock for the umpteenth time with much annoyance. His brown boots echoed on the well-furnished, high-ceilinged house, annoying the person seated on the lone couch crookedly with his eyelids closed and legs propped on the couch's arm.
"Cut it off already, Zav!" He shouted, annoyed by his friend's irritating gesture. "I'm unable to rest over here, you see..."
"Go get your ass into your room, Chris!"
"What's with all this edgy fuss, man?" Chris questioned, opening one eye and glancing at him lazily while blocking the light entering his eyes with his elbow covering his face.
"I can't believe he still refused to give it back!" exclaimed Zavior, gritting his teeth.
"Still on that topic?" loomed a third voice out of thin air suddenly.
"Right, that topic!" Zavior turned to face him.
"Why bother?" he said as he walked straight toward the study table and leaned his back on the table.
