One. Two. Three. Four.

Ikaris grinned stupidly, spitting blood out of his mouth with a laugh, "You hit like a girl!" The man holding onto the collar of his shirt snarled and hit Ikaris again, smiling with satisfaction, "I’m just getting started, princess." Pff, a joke about him having long hair. Original.

One. Two. That's it.

Before he could land a third hit, Ikaris quickly drove his elbow up into the man’s chin, and as the man stumbled back, the werewolf quickly got back up on his feet. It was his turn now. Ikaris threw a right hook at the man, enjoying the satisfying sound of his knuckles hitting the man’s nose, a sickening crack filling his ears. It was definitely broken. He managed to stay in control for a few more hits, then he lost it all.

Kari was blinded by rage, among other things, and hadn’t fully been aware of what he was doing. He had gone on some sort of auto-pilot mode... a very violent one. It took a man with calloused hands to snap him out of the daze, “For fucks sake, he’s had enough Ikaris!” The bartender, Elijah, he mused. Shrugging out of the man's hold, Kari shot a glare at him before spitting blood out of his mouth once more, "He's fine." Then he walked away. He knew the bartender. He had stopped him before when he started to slip in fights, and he had been the person who outed him to his parents, informing them about how their son liked to stir up fights at the bar. That conversation when he got home that night was fun.

Dragging himself inside of the bar, Ikaris wiped at his face again, trying to clear the blood off from his nose and split lip. He wasn't doing too well with that. Thankful that the bar wasn't tended to be a singular bartender, Kari walked over to the counter, ordering a glass of whiskey. He didn't notice Tori was sitting a few stools away, so when he went to take a drink and caught sight of her hair in the corner of his eye, he nearly choked. Smooth. Awkwardly sitting on a stool, he stared down at the glass, watching as a few drops of crimson dropped into it.

Ikaris' face scrunched. He hated the taste of blood. The copper taste was horrible. He laughed remembering how he's never liked the smell of copper, or any metal. That's why he never carried change around, and if he got change? He'd quickly dispose of it and wash his hands. Having enhanced senses was handy, but not for things like that. He always wished that he could control his senses, tune out things that were just foul, but that's not how life worked, sadly.

Fully expecting that Tori had seen him, Ikaris stayed quiet. It didn't occur to him that the bar was far louder than him nearly inhaling the drink seconds ago. As he realized that he wasn't exactly being as loud as the other drunk men, he finally lifted his green gaze from the glass, glacing over at her before looking back to the drink. Moving his bloodied hand to grab it and lift it to his mouth, Ikaris drank it all in one and let his shoulders relax. Well, he was here- she was here, he might as well bite the bullet and at least greet her... even if he had blood that trailed from his nose and onto his lips, combining with the blood that dripped from the split in his bottom lip.

Finally, the alpha looked over at her. God, if she had noticed him glancing over at her moments ago, he'd die right then and there. Ikaris knew just how creepy it would seem, especially in a bar, where creepy men tended to stare. Wiping at his face again, as if it would do anything to make him look betterl spoiler alert, it didn't, he gently tapped on the counter, "Hi Tori, fancy seeing you here." That was definitely not his best greeting, but at least he didn't run off like he did when she first came back.

In all honesty, the alpha had expected Tori to ignore him, or perhaps shoot him a glare saying he was an idiot. That wasn't the case. When she got up and sat next to him he felt himself tense up again. Surely he'd get yelled at, right? Once again, he was proven wrong when Tori asked him who had done it. Before he could even respond, she dismissed her last words. Kari was going to be honest and tell her that the man had been dealt with. He didn't want to tell her that he had let them take a few swings at him before he even reacted.

Cringing as he swiped his tongue across his lips, ridding the blood from them, he tightened his grip on the now empty glass. He should've just left to go back home. Kari's brows furrowed as he fought to find the right words, but he couldn't find them. He couldn't remember a time when he saw her like this. She was always caring, but something about how she sat next to him told him there was something she might be keeping to herself. She had every right to do so, but he couldn't help but grow curious.

The silence was killing him. Finally breaking his grip on the glass, Ikaris moved both hands to his pants, turning them so he could wipe the back of them on his pants. He'd have to throw the pants out when he got home, he really didn't want to deal with blood stains anyways. Ikaris then hesitantly looked towards Tori, wondering if it'd be a bad time to joke about the situation. He decided against it, "I'm sorry."

Motioning to himself he couldn't help but stifle a laugh. He didn't dare say anything though. If he opened his mouth he knew he'd say something dumb, especially because he wanted to let her know that when he admitted to getting into a couple of fights, when she first returned, that he had only partially told the truth. Ikaris was completely lost on what to say. So, he looked towards the bartender, asking the man for another drink before pulling his hair out of it's bun. Fumbling with the hair-tie he grumbled. Sometimes he really hated his hair, brief thoughts of cutting it crossed his mind but he shook them away. He liked his long hair, despite how much of a pain it could be.

As the bartender sat the drink in front of him, Ikaris nodded and muttered his thanks as he slowly put his hair back into a bun, making it look neater than it had looked moments ago, "You think I look like a princess?" The words had escaped his mouth before he could even think, and then he added on to it in hopes of not sounding completely dumb, "The man said I did." It still sounded weird, a little too weird. Taking the drink, Kari raised it to his lips, taking a drink before setting it back down. His green eyes then focused on his best friend, "I really am sorry. I didn't-" pausing to sigh he shook his head, "I didn't want you to see me like this." A small smile crept onto his face, "I also didn't want to try and hide it, that would be worse, wouldn't it?" Ikaris wasn't sure why he was asking her if it would be worse. He knew that if he tried to hide tomorrow, she'd find him, and if she didn't then her brother certainly would. Wait. Carson had been around a few of the times he had come home from fights, did he ever tell Tori about them? Ikaris assumed it was a no, but he really couldn't tell. Tori didn't mention anything through the messages they sent while she was gone, nor did she mention anything when he admitted to getting into fights. That made him relax some, body still tense- for whatever reason.

Once again, Ikaris was surprised by her response to him. Instead of ridiculing him for being dumb, or whatever else he had been, she asked him why he was sorry. It occurred to him that he wasn’t sorry for what he had done, he was sorry that she saw him like this, and that he had came over to the area she was in, perhaps bothering her. He didn’t regret what he did, despite possibly going too far. Maybe he was also sorry for the hidden truth of tonight. It felt good to hit the man, sure, but the best part was when he was letting the man hit him. Would it be so bad if he admitted that to her tonight?

“It felt right to say it,” pausing he picked up the glass again, drinking the rest of it before setting it down on the counter. Looking back over to her he raised a brow, with a chuckle, “I don’t know what you’re talking about, long hair is wonderful.” Then she spoke about him always being a princess in her books, he almost laughed. Did she really think he looked stunning? The thought of her thinking he looked any sort of decent made his ears start to burn some. Of course he was going to blush.

Tori was right, they were both bound to run into each other, she'd eventually see him with a scrape or a bruise. Better now then later though, right? When she mentioned not wanting to accidentally cause him any pain he shrugged, mumbling to himself, almost positive that she wouldn't hear him mention that it wouldn't be so bad if she did.

Looking at her hand that rested on his arm, Ikaris let go of the glass and smiled stupidly, "I uh, I'm pretty sure I just threw a punch his way. I wasn't really thinking." Gently moving his arm from under her hand, he crossed his arms over his chest and added on to his statement, "I might've winked at his company." A bitter laugh then forced it's way out of his throat, "The best part is I actually enjoyed it when he hit me. I could honestly care less about how it felt when I hit him. Sure, it was nice- but I dunno."

Uncrossing his arms, Kari looked back down to his knuckles, pressing his thumb down on one of the knuckles that he split. He wanted to look at his best friend and face her, but he was scared. That thought almost made him laugh. Tori was the last person that would sit there and get mad at him, but he still feared that one day she'd have enough of his shit and yell at him or something, "It's not that bad, right? So what if I like getting a bruise every now and then." It was fine that he got occasionally banged up, right? The real foul was him hurting other people, which was why Ikaris told her about the 'good' side to the truth of his habit.

"You look nice with long hair."

Once again Ikaris felt his face heat up, and much like a child, he put his hands on his face, trying to make it seem like he was tired when he in reality, he was trying to conceal how easily flustered she made him. The last time anyone had even come close to making him feel or act this way was someone he was friends with a few years ago. Finally, he dragged his hands off of his face and grimaced as he shifted his weight on the seat.

Hearing Tori say it out loud caught him off guard. He did just admit he liked it, so there was no point in him trying to conceal that fact- even if he hadn't originally meant to let it slip passed his lips. Swallowing thickly, Kari nodded quietly, afraid to try to make it make sense, because he knew that he couldn't do that without rolling over and exposing his belly- and he wasn't necessarily one to give in and lay his problems, his weaknesses, out for someone to see. He knew that Tori would be the very last person in the world to judge him, but he was still hesitant.

What she said next nearly flew over his head. Ikaris had to replay her words in his head for it to sink in. That was an oddly specific thing to say. His eyebrows were pinched together as he thought about what to say. She could be referencing something she saw, so he really didn't think he should poke around about it, instead he opted to wait, if she wanted to tell him about it, then she would, right? Maybe one day he'd ask about it, curiosity had always seemed to get the best of him.

"I missed this." Pausing he glanced around the bar before his green gaze landed back on Tori, "Being in your presence, talking to you. It sure beats text messages." Smiling, Ikaris fixed his posture, sitting more upright rather than hunching over the counter, "I know it's odd to follow up with that with this, but I just wanted to say that when you said it didn't sound like me to uh, enjoy getting hurt- you were right." Once more he rubbed his hands together, this time careful to not press on his knuckles, despite how strong the urge was to make the small amount of pain to shoot into his body, "There's really no reasonable explanation for it." Offering a small shrug he sighed. He was definitely going to sleep in tomorrow.

"This is the worst day of my life."

Was he being dramatic? Possibly. Not once did he think he would ever have something like this happen to him. It was absurd. Why the hell would anyone make the effort to cut his hair with a knife in the middle of a fight? It was completely stupid and did nothing but anger him more, so why do it? Ikaris wasn't exactly winning the fight by much, perhaps by a few hits- but nothing serious enough to warrant the man scrambling to stab him. The man had the werewolf pinned against a wall, a smirk plastered on his face as he whipped the knife out and put it dangerously close to his neck, as if to say he could end his life right then, right there. The rest of the fight was a blur as Ikaris tried to dodge the knife and win.

Nothing was in his favor tonight. It was evident when he found himself staring at himself in the mirror of his bathroom. He stayed true to himself, leaving the pack house to go out and drink. It wasn't anything new to the pack, and he often questioned how and why the pack didn't try to overthrow him and put someone else in charge. The alpha sniffled, gently wiping the blood from his nose as he took in his new appearance. His once long hair was now short, too short. It was the only thing he could do when the man had chopped a chunk of his hair off. He couldn't walk around like a five year old who thought it'd be fun to cut their own hair.

His jaw tightened as he turned the sink on, cupping his hands to gather water before splashing it on his face, washing off the blood that ran from his nose and split lip. When he finished drying his face, Kari left the bathroom, cutting through his room and out into the hallway outside his door. He could really use a drink right now. So, being as quiet as he could be for injured, not-yet-sober grown man, Ikaris walked into the kitchen. As he pulled a cup from the cupboard, he found himself thinking about how to explain himself to the pack- to Tori. Would he try to lie and say he wanted to cut his hair? No, that wouldn't work.

Huffing, Kari pulled out a bottle of bourbon and poured himself a full glass. As he leaned against the counter he took a long drink of it, shoulders rolling back as he fought the urge to go lay down. No matter what he did he'd be sore tomorrow, the familair ache was already settling in to his muscles down to his bone. He wouldn't be surprised if he had managed to fracture a rib or something. There was never telling what sort of bruise or injury he'd get after a night out at the bar.

Tonight he had been beyond irritated. The day was relatively good, but a phone call from someone he'd like to see dead managed to tank his mood. Fighting was one of his first insticts. To be able to feel pain course through his body, distracting him from his thoughts. It was nice. Being able to cause someone pain was another bonus. For someone who seemed to be in control, he was far from it. Facing his emotions is a weakness of his, almost always ending up with him using a destructive outlet as a way to get out of dealing with them. He wasn't always like this.

Absentmindly swirling the glass, Kari watched as the liquid sloshed around, resembling the spiral design most tie-dye shirts used. His lips remained in a tight line, eyebrows furrowed as he pondered what he could have done differently to avoid all of this. He could have reached out to Tori, she would have listened. She knew him better than anyone else, even himself. So why didn't he do it? Go to her? Easy. He didn't want to disappoint her.


(Time skip post. Perhaps by a couple of months? I'm not sure how long you'd like for it to be after their last interaction)