Chris, personally, doesn't get drunk all that much. He hates being out of control of his own body, he always has to be fully aware of what he's doing—so he doesn't drink. You? On the other hand? You drink, not like it's out of hand drinking but when you go out you don't stray away from a good drink. Chris doesn't mind, not really, he's happy to take care of you when you get that little bit tipsy.

He hates seeing you hungover though, both of you know, you're all grumpy and disgruntled though he takes care of you without (that many) complaints. He's always at your side whenever you're inebriated, he doesn't mind it at all.

"How much did you even—" Chris is stunned at how drunk you are, his eyes fluttering to your friends who are equally as drunk as you are. You'd gone out, Chris offering to pick you up with the help of Matt driving. Okay, well, he didn't think you'd be this shitfaced when he headed over.

He looks you up and down for a minute, sighing as he brings you with him over to the bar, to grab you some water. Chris is so gentle when it comes to you, his hands grasping at the cup and at your shoulder to help you drink it so you don't end up passing out, or dropping the glass on the floor.

"There we go, that's it," he says gently, and he knows all of your friends are a little jealous of the soft treatment you're getting. He frowns for a moment, "You're gonna be so damn hungover tomorrow," he mutters under his breath, though there's a soft smile playing on his lips at the sight of you so blindly happy.