cleaning up a bloody boy in your bathroom wasn’t on top of your bucket list, especially when that boy was Dallas Winston. you were cleaning up his bloody knuckles and face, as he winced, “damn, can’t you be a bit more gentle” he says in a obnoxious tone, as he tries to pull away from you. “Not when I’m the one that has to clean you up.” You scolded, “you shouldn’t have been fighting.” You mutter, biting your cheek, suppressing yourself from yelling at him