"Maybe.." 'That you're wearing it'. She had the sense, barely, to keep the thought to herself as she settled down into the bed. The fabric of her clothes wasn't very good for blankets, and she kept feeling the tug and pull of it against the sheets. She groaned for a moment.
"I'm okay." She offered a cheerful smile. Truthfully? Maybe she was a little off, but it wasn't anything she couldn't control. She felt like there was at least enough control to keep the contents of her stomach where they belonged, and that was enough. "And you should 'ave.." She copied the accent with a grin.
When she felt that hand settle over her hip, she shifted into with a welcome flutter of her lids. "Thanks for the bed.." She offered her sentiment with a gentle purr, one hand moving to slip, invited or not, over the flat of Emma's stomach. Everyone, everyone, she figured, a drunken cuddle.