[ She's stretching Sephiroth's lenience, making him wait even longer for an answer, but she was occupied both with her own drug-induced selfishness and her sleeping. Light, incomplete, but at least without too-sensitive haunts. Her chest feels as hollow as her stomach; her mind is just catching up with reality, with words and their implications. She has a glass of water when she responds, choosing to "type" instead if speak. Better. He might criticize her again--not that he isn't already, surely. ]
The cherry has been popped; responds some hours after receipt.
What can I say that you'll believe?