When the lights finally snapped back on the next time, they showed a completely and totally exhausted Lily. She wasn't just tired; she was wrecked.
She was laying on the couch now. Not sitting up, no, she was fully sprawled out, flat on her back like a starfish.
One of her arms was just hanging limp off the side, the very tips of her fingers brushing the floor. One of her legs was dangling down the edge, too, swaying a little. Her eyes were squeezed tightly shut, and her whole body would give a little jerk or a small twitch every few seconds, her muscles still humming.
Obviously, Lily was done. Done in every single way a person could possibly be done. She probably couldn't move an arm or a leg even if she wanted to. Thinking? Yeah, right. Her brain was just warm, happy mush.
