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Dylan stared at himself in the mirror, hands clenching the porcelain sink and he leant forward, letting his nose drip blood into the sink. He got into another fight. Some guy was too rowdy at the bar, and Dylan hadn't punched someone in say...two weeks, so he was sort of itching for it. He didn't know why he liked it, the adrenaline, the show of power, maybe all of it. He didn't care. This part *sucked*. His scalp was dripping blood the same as his nose, and clean up would be awful. He already shed his shirt, some blood cascading down his chin and slowly dripping down his abdomen. He grabbed a towel, some expensive embroidered one his mom spent too much money on. Didn't matter now, since he was gonna ruin it. Just as he dabbed some blood at his chin, the bathroom door swung open. It was the upstairs bathroom, where only his and Allison's rooms were, so he assumed it was his annoying little sister. Instead, you . He knew you ever since Allison claimed they were her best friend. Sure, he treated them the same as Allison, but hell, you was a hot piece of ass recently. A smirk played on Dylan's face, and he tilted his head to the side. They stared at each other for a few moments before he spoke. "What? Wanna take a picture?" He said in the usual smart-ass way he spoke.
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