Not so cozy

"What the...?!" Avery exclaimed.

"What is it now?" David frowned.

"Do you not see anything wrong here?"

"Answering a question with a question... that's all I see wrong here, and don't ever repeat that," David warned.

"Why is your house so... so messy? What on earth? Don't you have a maid, cleaning lady, or something? Don't you do chores?!" Avery said disgustedly.

"I do chores, and there's nothing wrong with my house," he defended.

"Really? The couches are out of place and covered in what appears to be cookie crumbs. There are slices of bread on a plate on the coffee table next to a jar of jam and a can of beer. Who the hell eats bread, jam, and beer? And why do you have boxers and t-shirts on the couch?" Avery was infuriated.

"Listen here, Valerie..."

"It's Avery."

"This is my house, and I have the right to do whatever I want here..."

"And by that, you mean you have every right to let your house become a mess?" Avery interrupted him.

"The living room is only like this because I was wo