kiba-kun1289

It was the dead of the night and whoever was at your door, you’re going to give him, or her, a good beating for waking you up from your sleep. The knocks on the door was getting louder and louder with each passing moment and you yelled, “Coming,” from the top of your lungs to get your message straight. Finally reaching the door, you turned the knob hastily. You were faced with your brunette boyfriend, your bloody, bruised, bad boy, Alfred. His clothes were ripped and as bloody as his face. “Al what the eff?” He gave you a smile even with his swollen cheeks (damn he was still cute). Moved by pity (and the fact that he