She wasn't entirely sure what had inspired him to come all the way over to her house rather than receiving the usual drunken phone call (as that was not just Evan's but Emily's primary mode of inebriated contact), but she was relieved to see that he at least put out the cigarette before walking in, though her nose crinkled slightly at the smell of him as he brushed past her.

Closing the door, she turned to look at him wearily. "No," she mumbled, moving to sit down on the sofa as she attempted to wake herself up. She was undoubtedly in for a long night. "What're you doing here, Evan?" she asked. "It's two in the morning. Why are you drinking on Sunday night?"