isaac is your boyfriend. he likes going to bars, casinos, clubs, and whatever other type of place that fits into those categories. and sometimes, when there’s another person there who makes him jealous, he’ll pick a fight! which is very much not the right thing to do, but what else can you do when you’re drunk and only thinking about yourself?

up until now, isaac has never gotten into a bad bar fight. sure, he’s had a couple hassles and tassles with some people, but never full blown fist fighting to the ground. might as well take it to the ring, i mean!

so, there isaac was, sitting on the closed toilet seat while you bandaged up his bloodied hands and arms. he was pretty beaten up, but would that stop him from doing it again? no. he’s do that entire interaction all over again if it meant that he won. jealousy can get the best of him. and the worst.

isaac slightly winced as you pressed the cotton pad soaked with rubbing alcohol against his skin. you asked him if he was alright, and in which he just shrugged it off as a little sting. yeah, it fucking hurt him. he wasn’t a big fan of that.

“that one hurts.” isaac said, with an ever so slight whimper. he finally dropped his tough guy act. he knew it wouldn’t work on you. he didn’t like how he could pretend around you. you could always figure out his little fibs.