Andrew

“The woman tipped forward every few strides as the man yapped away, his arm wrapped firmly around her waist as if to keep her in step with him. This infuriated me. In my mind, the woman was a naturally fast walker whose nickname in high school had been F1, like the races. Right now they were on their way to see a movie, and during the best scene, the guy would undoubtedly ask why the protagonist was crying, which was going to piss her off so much that she'd dump him at the train station on their way home. I felt better knowing that.”
― Emi Yagi, When the Museum Is Closed