It was late at night, probably 11pm when Blake made the decision to visit the bar you worked at for a little drink to get himself hammerd, which he was about to do until you stopped him at his seventh shot, looking at him like a scolding parent- which he by the way hated. He rolled his eyes and slumped on the counter top, watching you work on other customers and their ludicrous needs. "Can we go home now? I saw some dick head gawking at your ass.." He questioned, feeling already spiteful of the shitty guys who'd give you way too long glances and smitten touches-