"He was crying...?" Chris asked, his voice sad and remorseful, as if he'd wanted to be there for Paris in his time of distress. But he knew that it was probably only because he was gone that Paris allowed himself to express any kind of emotion. He didn't know what else to do to let Paris feel without being in the way.

Christa wasn't a bad person, nor did he think that she and Paris were never meant to get along. Paris could be difficult to deal with, he knew... especially when he was placed in situations he wasn't prepared for, when he was on guard and expecting the worst. Christa, though... she didn't have to stop and see who was upset, but she did. And that was enough for him to look to her with gratitude, if not respect.

"I really don't mind," he insisted, although he didn't know what she'd think if he mentioned it wasn't the first time he'd had someone stay over at his apartment after randomly showing up at night. Or randomly meeting up with them. It didn't bother him in the least. In fact, he would rather her stay so he knew she wasn't running around at night.

He laughed softly when she offered to make him something to eat, but it quickly turned into an awkward cough as his stomach growled in discontent. "Well... I guess that's fine," he reluctantly agreed, not because he didn't want her to cook for him, but because she shouldn't have to. He should be the one catering to her. She was his guest, after all.

But as long as she seemed content, and Paris didn't need his immediate attention, he was happy to indulge her. He did collect some pajama pants to wear (instead of just walking around in his boxers) and his toothbrush. He hoped Paris wouldn't mind sleeping in the same bed as Christa... It wasn't as if they wouldn't have enough space... there was enough room for maybe three people to sleep comfortably in it... including a dog and a cat.

"The kitchen is downstairs," he gestured, turning to make his way down from the loft, grabbing the remote that controlled shutting the blinds on the two story wall-like collection of windows. While he wasn't afraid of people seeing in through the treated glass, he didn't want to wake up with the sun glaring in his eyes. The apartment itself looked much too sophisticated and high tech for a college kid, but Chris wasn't complaining.

He and Christa could talk more down there, of course... It was best to let Paris sleep after such a rough ordeal. Hopefully... one day... things would start to get pieced back together.