you and mike had been arguing a lot lately. as in, a lot a lot. and over totally stupid shit too.

the other day, you two were bickering over the fact he ate the last of the cereal. today, it was because he wasn’t ready to leave the house to go hang out with the rest of the party.

“mike, what are you doing? i told you to wake up and get out of bed two freaking hours ago!” you shout up the stairs of his house at him, clearly getting stressed.

he doesn’t respond, and you hear the hurried but determined noises of him getting dressed. “i’m literally- i’m getting ready!” his attempt of getting you to listen was futile.

“micheal, seriously, if your ass is not down here in 5 minutes at most i’m going to leave without you!” you go on at him, advancing up the stairs now.

you hear him growl in frustration and then he swings open his door, fully dressed, scowling.

“why are you acting insane? seriously! insane! screaming at me, god!” he pushes past you and down the stairs, clearly in an awful mood.