𝙹𝚄𝙽𝙺𝙷𝙴𝙰𝙳༉‧₊˚. ᴄʜʀɪꜱ ᴄᴏʀɴᴇʟʟ

𝗲𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁.

"DELIA!"

A very drunk Chris shouted through her passenger side window, knocking on the glass. She was parked outside a random dive bar in Belltown, he had called for her to come pick him up. The phone call had awoken her, as it was nearly three in the morning. She reached over and unlocked the door for him, he enthusiastically hopped in the car, before profusely slurring apologies for her having to come and get him.

Delia didn't really mind, she was glad he called, and drunk Chris was very, very entertaining. She stopped at a nearby gas station, and Chris offered to pay before he realized he had spent all his money on drinks. So instead he insisted on pumping it, watching gleefully as the number that indicated the gallons went up.

Afterwards, he followed Delia into the twenty-four hour convenience store, buying coffees and water. She handed a coffee and the water bottle to Chris, "for your hangover."

"What ever would I do without you?" He took them both, obnoxiously alternating sips as she drove slowly to their place.

"I have no idea."

"Me either." His drunken voice sounded genuine as his eyes widened as he saw the Puget Sound glisten slightly under the moonlight. "Doesn't a swim sound great, Delia?" He craned his neck to look at the water as they drove out of Belltown, getting farther from it.

Delia nearly snorted as response, knowing he was totally serious in his state. "You can swim in the bath."

"We can't both fit in the bath."

She bit her lip to keep herself from laughing too hard, keeping her eyes trained on the dark road in front of them. She was about to reply when a shrill yell came from Chris. He'd spilled his coffee all over himself.

"I've spilled it."

Delia glanced to his shirt, the once white fabric was now almost totally brown. She had to hold in a laugh at his words. "I can see that."

"It hurts!"

"Then take your shirt off, dumbass."

"Shit." He takes his shirt off. "You're not even gonna buy me a drink first?"

She pulls into the parking garage below their apartment building, almost face palming at his drunken joke. Chris gets out of the car as it's still slightly moving, he stumbles over.

Delia offers her hand to him, which he takes as an invitation to wrap his arms around her waist tightly, swinging back and forth in the hug.

"Thanks for picking me up." He mumbles as he rests his head on her shoulder, still embracing her.

"I don't mind."

Chris pulls back and cups her face in his large hands, placing a kiss on her forehead, the widest smile on his face when he pulls back. He pats her cheek once and turns towards the stairwell.

It wasn't abnormal for Chris to show his affection that way, it was just heightened by being drunk.

He bounded up the stairs, waiting for Delia at the top of each set before rushing up the next. When she got to their front door, it was ajar and Chris was passed out on the couch, his legs falling off.

It took some struggle to wake him, even more to get him up from the couch. He insisted he wasn't yet tired, and returned to Delia's room, sitting on the floor reading one of her poetry books as she read the collection of story's he'd gotten her for her birthday.

But soon the book was left open on his lap and Chris was asleep once more. Instead of waking him up again and bringing him to his room, she attempted to drag him over to her bed.

He had awoken in the process, but he found Delia's struggle rather funny, so he kept his eyes shut.

Finally she got him on the bed, and realized he was awake when he couldn't contain his smile any more.

"Can you take my shoes off? While your at it?" His eyes were half shut as he asked, just to spite her.

"If you actually go to sleep, yes."

Chris laughed as she unlaced his boots, already falling asleep again.

She flicked off her bedside table lamp and climbed into the bed, nearly pressed against the wall as he took up most of the bed.

"Night night." He slurred a goodnight, turning on his side. "Sleep tight." He chuckled to himself.

"Goodnight." She replied, eyes closed but a small smile on her face.

She was the last thing he thought of, though not in any particular way. Just her on his drunken mind, nothing else.

༺✧༻

Chris held his head in his hands and stared at the sausage and eggs in front of him, contemplating if he should eat them or not as Delia placed a bottle of Advil in front of him.

He muttered a quiet thank you, the light in the kitchen much too bright for him. He decided to eat the breakfast, hoping he'd be able to keep it down.

"I feel great." Delia sat down next to him, sipping her coffee happily.

Chris didn't reply, only grimaced as he ate and nearly rolled his eyes at her proclamation.

"We should go to a show tonight. Or have your band practice here. Kim said he got a new amp, very large, you know- loud."

Chris knew Delia was joking just to get a kick out of the situation, herself having been in Chris' position many times in the past. "My head has a heartbeat." Was all he said as he popped a few advil and finished his breakfast, going to lay on the couch.

She finished her coffee and went to take a shower. Chris could hear her singing along with the rush of water, and laughed when he realized what she was singing but soon stopped- the laughing caused his head to pound even harder.

The lyrics of Big Dumb Sex echoed through the bathrooms door, and despite the joke of a song, Chris could tell Delia had a good voice. He had always thought that, even when she sung loudly in the shower or car as she oftentimes did.

Her voice was the one noise he didn't mind in his hungover state.

༺✧༻