*This imagine is for Tiffany*
"Mike, sweetie, can you come in here for a minute?" I said calling for my boyfriend, Mike Trout, to come into the kitchen.
"Yeah babe?" He said leaning in the doorway.
"What is this?" I asked pointing to a pile of dishes that was sitting next to the sink.
"Some plates and bowls?" He asked confused.
"Yeah. And why aren't they in the sink? Or the dishwasher?" I asked getting a little mad.
"Because I didn't want to do the dishes." He said back.
"You didn't WANT to?" I threw back angrily. "You think I WANT to do them? Or the pile of YOUR dirty clothes sitting on the floor in our bedroom? Or maybe clean the house every weekend and make dinner every night. You think I WANT to do all those things?"
"You don't cook every single night. We go out sometimes." Mike said being a smartass.
"Unbelievable Mike. Un-fuckin-believable." I said grabbing my keys to my car and walking out the front door.
"Tiffany!" Mike said coming after me. "Just wait!"
I didn't stop for him and wait. I continued out to my car, got it, and drove away.
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