"Look at you, fumblin' 'round like you don't have me to help you," Chris muses as he watches you try to roll a blunt, manicured acrylics working against you as opposed to with you. His blue eyes flicker over your face and he smiles gently, tutting under his breath, "Now this s'just sad, baby, c'mere." You were trying so hard, but Chris just wanted you to get high with him not become a god at rolling a joint.

"Hey, you, c'mere," he pats his thigh, a soft grin adorning his lips now. His hands slip over the bottom of your dress, tugging it down so you don't end up getting cold. It was unlikely, considering the weather, but he was still protective of you despite that.

He cups your jaw as he meets your gaze and his eyes search yours for a moment, before he tugs you closer. His free hand not holding your face grabs the blunt and he takes a hit, holding the smoke before he leans down to you and exhales it into your mouth. His blue eyes meet yours, and he smirks, seeing the way you hold onto him so tight and practically shiver at the almost instant buzz making him bring you a little closer. "Someone likes that, doesn't she? There we go.."

Chris chuckles under his breath, setting you down in his lap and repeating the action of taking a hit, bringing you close once more and shotgunning it, breath warm against your mouth. "Relax, I got you," he cooed, running his hands over your body. "I got you.. just relax, feel the buzz. Okay? Yeah? That's it." His eyes fall to your lip-gloss smothered lips, and he brings you a little closer.