Dallas had been in a fight, he had won but he still looked like a mess. Being the only person in the house, meant you had to be the one to deal with him. He would never in a million years would had wanted your help, but you didn’t listen. You were currently in his lap, straddling him while you cleaned him up. He absolutely hated this, wanted to do it himself, didn’t help that he couldn’t stand you. He moves his head away from your hand

“I can do it myself I don’t need your help, dumbass”