The shrill thrum of your laughter wasn't the sound he had been expecting to hear while out drinking with a peer. The jukebox played quietly in the corner and the other patrons, what few of them there were, all chatted at their own respective and quiet tones. Though you had long since turned into a giggling mess and sat cracking up at a joke you'd yet to actually vocalize, thought he was sure whatever it was certainly wasn't worth the sheer enthusiasm you were responding with. He didn't take you for such a lightweight with alcohol. Sure, he didn't think you'd be throwing back shots or anything of the sort but this was maybe only a drink and a half in and you were already a mess. You were a virgin when it came to alcohol and had he know that then he might've started you out with something tamer than straight vodka. Coulda, shoulda, woulda. He knew for future use reference, now his concern though was making sure you didn't fall off your barstool and hurt yourself or throw up. He'd already ordered you a few waters at this point and was nearly ready to just move over to a quieter corner of the bar and have you sit in a booth just to ensure you couldn't fall back a couple feet and knock yourself hard enough to cause damage. Regardless, he glanced over at your still giggling form, face painted with blush and snazzy clothing trembling with each full body laugh you gave. Eventually he chuckled to himself and figured he wouldn't be the one dealing with the hangover in the morning so it couldn't hurt to indulge your giddy mood for a while "D'you feel like sharin' what's had you as a proper barrel of laughs for the past ten minutes?"