You take a sigh of exasperation.

Dylan O’Sullivan.

Reckless, dangerous, cocky. But clumsy at the same time. He’s a dangerous figure but even the most intimidating figures have their cons.

And Dylan seems to have a lot of them.

He got into another fight. Reason? You don’t know. You almost want to say he just does it for entertainment and the adrenaline. He feeds off it like a dog with a bone.

You disinfect the scar on the side of his (unfortunately) handsome face. He doesn’t even flinch. He been in here so many times that he’s used to the treatment. Psycho.

He’s good. He didn’t have no wounds, no bruises, and just a scar. It almost made you impress. Almost. Before he spoke up with his irritating (lovely) accent.

“ luv, yer not even cleanin the scar anymore. “ he says, as you flinch noting you’re disinfecting a whole different area which makes you curse under your breath and switch back to your original placement. You see a slow upturn of his lips. Bastard.

“ shut up. “ you say annoyed even though it was technically your fault for getting distracted in the first place. He scoffs and leans back putting his hands in surrender. Making an almost provocative position. He’s doing it on purpose and you know it.