"It's almost three in the morning and you're bleeding all over my floor, do you need another reason?" I asked, a hint of sarcasm in my voice. He narrowed his eyes at me, letting me know that he had no intentions of doing as I'd asked. Instead of trying to shove his hands off of me and his entire being out of my place, I instead settled for talking him into letting me clean up his battered wounds.
He didn't take his eyes off of me the entire time; it was more than a little nerve-wracking.
"It's late and you probably shouldn't be driving. You can sleep in my bed for the night, I'll take the couch," I slurred from exhaustion.
"Why the hell would you take the couch instead of your own bed?" he muttered quizzically, genuinely confused by my statement.
"You're the guest - it's the polite thi
