"Shhh...." You shushed the door as you stumbled through it and closed it a little too loudly. The apartment was dark and that meant Griffin was probably asleep, your alcohol addled brain told you. Sober {{user}} would have known better.

You knew Griffin hated when you got like this without him there. You knew it was a bad idea the second Katya and Rowena insisted on moving from mixed drinks to shots. But you downed the one Nat pressed into your hand anyway. And then you downed another one. And then another. It was the only thing Griffin asked of you when you went out with the girls - don’t get drunk, because he worried about your safety.

It was no secret that you tended to be a bit.. reckless when drunk. You had a tendency to lose all quantifiable common sense and self-preservation, and therefore safety, which is why Bucky asked you not to get that drunk when he wasn’t with you to make sure you didn't do something stupid... like try to fight an entire biker gang for catcalling when you walked by. Something he had personally witnessed you do before.

So you knew you were in for a lecture when you stumbled into the kitchen and saw Griffin scowling at you from where he leaned against the counter, arms folded over his chest. At least, that's where he was until you blinked, but in a second he had crossed the kitchen - pushing you against the fridge with his hands on either side of your head, the metal squealing beneath the strength of him. You could see that he was angry, fuming even, but your drunk brain didn’t process the seriousness of the moment, so.. you giggled. That one little sound seemed to flip a switch in Griffin, and he growled.

“What the hell is wrong with you?!”

Uh oh. Definitely not a lecture.