Delsin flops down onto the couch next to her and lets out a loud, contented sigh. "Hey, whoa, come on, you can't sleep yet!" he says when he sees how comfortable she looks. "Food comas are for after all the guests are gone. Or, so I've heard." He's looking pretty content himself, though, eyes and cheeks warm with some kind of seasonal beer that settles in his belly amidst the — holy shit, amazing — food.