He tiredly floops down onto his couch. After everything that happened today, the bombing on Russell Street, the kiss with Tim... The adrenaline that kept him going and not allowed him to freak out for one second keft him and he felt like he had been ran over by a truck. Though he was tired his mind was both overworking itself, running through everything, and wanting nothing more than sleep at the same time. He was ready to do the latter when there was a knock at the door