I'm not a kitten parade, I'm just overworked!
"Bweh."
She laid face down on her bed. Face buried in the covers. Her legs were sprawled across the mattress, and her arms were spread eagle on the sides of the pillows.
Her body was limp and lifeless. Like a corpse that had fallen from the sky and hit the mattress at terminal velocity and had not a bone intact to its name.
A jellyfish.
A wet noodle.
Something of that nature. Limp. Lifeless. Dead. Devoid of life and energy and motivation and will to live and-
"Are." Lyov's voice was a touch dry. Amused. Warm. Fond. All the usual. "-you okay, Isabelle, or-"
"Dead." She groaned, and rolled to her side, curling in a ball. Facing him, her eyes peering at him from the depths of the blankets. They were bloodshot. Tired. Exhaustion incarnate.
He squinted at her.
His lips pursed.
"Did you start on those papers-"
"NooooOOOOOOoooooo!" Came her agonized wail. Muffled from the blankets. But not muffled enough.