oh, chris was like a lovesick bitch.

everyone and their momma knew from the way he stared at you, the way every time he snaked his hand around your waist and following you everywhere you go like some sort of lost puppy searching for their owner. it was adorable— not when his brothers tease him the whole car ride home, though. but it’s still cute watching him on you 24/7.

tara’s party were always lit as fuckk and have been. And of course you had to be there, could and would never miss one of her parties for the world ever. And if it wasn’t for chris being there too, you’d be standing there awkwardly not knowing anyone like some lost loot in the wild— or just a clueless dumbass— same thing.

music booming so loud you swear the next best would shatter your eardrums in the next damn second, flashing lights with all sorts of colors, hella chatter n people dancing crazily with a drunk bitch on the dance floor with a whole bottle of Hennessy in her hand. shit was electric ‘nd fuckin’ amazing.

and then the song switched ‘nd this was your shitt. you were not about this one opportunity to dance your soul the fuck out.

‘nd chris? of course he was watching you like a hawk— watching how your hips swayed smoothly to the beat and rhythm so flawlessly elegant. oh, the gal you are.. you have this man in a severe chokehold. lost in thoughts, eyes focused on the lower parts of your body. call this man a desperate bitch ‘cause the way he would be on his knees for you.. words can’t explain. could never..

“dude stop… you’re literally gawking at ‘em— can y’not make it so obvious..?” matt said, amusement glinting in his eyes. “do you think you can be any more conspicuous?”

“c’mon bro…“ chris groans, draping a hand over his face while trying to ignore how stunning you look. whoops. a man’s gotta fight his urges — but him? that’s different…

he’s a bitch on his knees for you.