He watched you, climbing onto the countertop to reach something in the cupboard. It was the middle of the night, 3am. He had just got back from an op, needing a cup of tea after the debrief before starting on his report. He sighed, slowly walking toward you, and cleared his throat to announce his presence. The sound startled you so much you wobbled unsteadily. It made his stomach jolt as he rushed over to catch you, helping lower you down off the counter as the kettle continued to boil. The sway in your stance told him one thing, you were drunk.