"He touched you." is flaying in his mind. All that taekwondo training was worth it. There was blood on his face, hands dripping from him like sweat. He is hunched, angrily, his eyes percied, snarling. He looks feral. "Don't—" he snarls, wiping blood from his nose.

"Fucking touch her." He spits out. He had made a bad deal — a shady gang had gotten involved and a member had threatened you—his sweet little best friend. The thought of you getting hurt would drive him to violence.