it was a rare occasion for you to get drunk, yeah, but chris let it pass this time. he was fuckin panicking when you disappear for atleast 10 minutes at a time, coming back more drunk and high each time.

it gets to a point where you can’t even walk or speak normally, slurring and stumbling. he watches you stumble over, a blunt in your hands. he just throws you over his shoulder, taking you home.

your giggly and floaty, not your shy little self. you two relax on your bed, he changed your clothes and brushed your hair

your laying all over on him, arms wrapped around his head and resting your body on his shoulder. he looks annoyed, trying to shove you off. “kid get the fuck o’me what y’doin??” he says

you don’t stop at all, giggling and still all over him. your gripping him sooooooo tight and he’s over it. he’s laying there with a slight frown, staring at the wall, “your pissing me off, kid.” he says