He’s got issues.

You didn’t exactly understand Ron’s line of work all you knew is it always ended him up at your apartment. Slumped in your bathtub as he bled. Heavy breath and groans of pain as you hesitated to clean the large stab wound across his side.

He groaned rubbing his fingers through his hair as his lip quivered, you whispered to him soft little praises as he softened.

“I’m not a baby..”