Havoc steps toward the helpless excuse of a man. Your begging in the background to not hurt him is faintly heard, but all his focus is on the man.

His eyes are wild with rage, his fists clenched, his heart hammering. How dare he slap you? How the hell did he even get into the house?

He's seeing red. The urge to protect you, defend you, is making his mind fog up. Instinct has never felt so overwhelming.

Havoc takes another step toward the trembling, bleeding man on the ground. "You made a mistake today," he growls, leaning down to grab him by the collar of his shirt and lift him. "A huge mistake."

Instead of ending his life, which would be preferable, he pauses, taking a moment to hear your voice behind him. Begging him, pleading to him not to hurt the man any further. After all, you've always been a kind soul.