evenica

Bloody hell. If the git kept staring at him with that stupid smile on his face, he was going to pass out from too much blood rushing to his brain. Arthur Kirkland frowned across the room at the hyperactive American, attempting futilely to keep the blush off his face and his heart rate below a frantic thumping. The American in question – one Alfred F. Jones – was only the notorious school flirt, the terribly clichéd blond-haired, blue-eyed star of all the sports teams, a mouthwatering six-feet-four-inches of flawless sun-kissed skin over toned muscles and a charming smile that rivaled the sun in its brightness; he was the