It's still a strained smile, unnatural on Noah's sweet face and Freddie can't find it in himself to return it.

He takes another drink of his coffee before setting it down on the table and crashing back into the couch, shoulders slumped and stomach a mess. His head hurts slightly less than it had five minutes ago but the light in the room still feels too bright and he's still remembering way too much about the previous night.

"Christ, I hate Magnus Bane," he says, but it's not nearly the heart of it.