Admittedly she'd have been super impressed in any other state of mind; clearly she should have started with this, the service speed is incredible. But no, this is what Elliott has to work with, and while she twitches at the sound of his voice, and startles fully back to herself at the sound of her name, she sucks in a breath and scoots back as he reaches toward her. "N-no, I-"

It's a few seconds before she pulls herself back under control, though control is probably not the right word. She sees his hand in front of her but not reaching for her, and she calms down from the high she'd been on briefly. "Sorry. Sorry. I sh-should have. Said something. I don't know why I'm-" -like this, she doesn't finish but assumes, probably incorrectly, will be understood.

Instead, she focuses on him, voice soft, after she gives herself a second to organize her thoughts. "You were right. I d-don't know what I would have done if I'd..." Bleh. For a singer she sure can't communicate worth a damn. "Please don't... don't touch me. Not while I'm like this. I freak out." Worse than I'm already doing to you. "Sorry. It's not you. I'll... soon, but not now."

...the smell of pancakes reaches her then, and something in her uncoils. "Um. That smells delicious?" It sounds lame, even to her, and she's felt pretty lame for the last few minutes already. So she tries to smile at him to assure him it's honest, but it probably looks weird, especially while she's still crying, and she has no idea how emotions work right now anyway, she's everything at once. "I feel like a mess. In every s-sense of the word. Just... stay with me? I-if it's safe?" She means if the stove's off, but she can't help her eyes twitching toward the door briefly.