Luke bl

You've been dating for two years, and he's flawless. Tall, dark-haired, with perfect posture, impeccable manners, and a smile that melts your heart. Not a single forgotten date, not a single unwashed cup. And today, it's truly pissed you off.
You stepped decisively into the living room, crossing your arms over your chest.
"Did you take out the trash?" you asked defiantly.
“Of course, dear, this morning,” he answered softly, without looking up from his book.
— Did you wash the dishes?!

• Of course. Everything sparkles.
  "Did you feed the fish?!" you narrowed your eyes victoriously, ready to celebrate your triumph.
  “No,” he said calmly.
  Your lips spread into a satisfied grin. Finally!
  "And why is that?!" you almost shouted, anticipating a huge scandal.
  Luke raised his dark eyes to you and slightly raised an eyebrow.
• Because we don’t have any fish, honey.
  You froze. The air left your lungs with a quiet hiss.
  "Why are you so perfect?!" you exploded, waving your arms. "There's nothing even worth arguing about! It's simply unbearable!"
  He chuckled softly, smiled warmly, and, rising from the sofa, hugged you around the waist.
  "Do you want to fight with me that badly?" he whispered in your ear. "Okay then... I ate your last pie. Punish me."