chris was always at a party, smoking and drinking and doing god knows what. typically, he liked the girls who were loud and rowdy. the party girls who are scared to party, do drugs or even drink. he always said those types of girls were pussies.

until he was sat at the couch in his frat house, counting out some money. a girl was at his side, yapping his ear off about shit he didn’t care about. he was nodding along, though he wasn’t paying any attention. the music was loud and booming, and he couldn’t even hear what the girl was saying.

Chris glanced up, seeing some of his fraternity brothers surrounding someone, or something in the corner. he watched for a moment, brows furrowing. he stuffed the multiple dollar bills in his pocket, pushing himself to his feet. a faint “where are you going” was heard as he walked off, but he didn’t really care.

“hey, back the fuck off,” Chris intervened, shoving the men away from the girl standing in the corner. you. with his words, the men scoffed and left — though they barely even were men.

Chris looked down at you, a slight smirk appearing on his lips. “shit, uh. what’re y’doin here? this doesn’t seem like your typa crowd.” he looked around, hand rubbing at the back of his neck as a soft chuckle left his lips.

“y’look like you could use a drink.”