"Um." She gnaws on her lower lip, plainly considering this, and it takes her a lot longer than she would normally because her mind is a little foggy right now. She had a couple shots earlier (hair of the dog; it didn't help) and her post-ecstasy comedown is kind of messing with her. She glances behind her, at her living room which is still kind of trashed but at least sanitary now, it looks like any teenager's room.

"D'you want to come in?" she asks eventually, sounding a bit awkward -- it's partly because she's not sure what to do with this, people don't... just drop in to check on her if she's sick ("sick"), no one's ever really given a shit before. If anything, they'd run in the opposite direction to keep from getting what she's got.