Hannah shrugged. She always felt so dulled when she was on a draught; if only it were trippy and felt like a high, no, it just rubbed all of her emotions down. "I don't feel like I'm going to explode anymore," she said, slowly making her way to Neville. The dogs settled into their usual spots--Honey and Coco on the couch, Lucy and Dora on the floor by the fireplace--and all of them ignored Neville. By now, he wasn't a fun and exciting new toy (and he didn't have any treats for them, either), and when Hannah was subdued like this, the dogs seemed calmer, too.
She rested her head on his shoulder, shaking her head. "You're very very sweet, but you're not being very truthful. I look like I lost a fight with a hairbrush." She sighed, closing her eyes for a moment. "Do you want me to make eggs? For breakfast?"