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	Izzy laid contently in the caress of her bed and welcome coziness of her puffy comforter. It was suspiciously quiet outside her door for a Sunday morning, but she was not about to complain. She would take all the relaxation she could get. For a couple minutes, she listened to the sound of her heartbeat, focusing on its calm, steady rhythm. The [i]thu-thump[/i] of near-humanity.
	In her partial consciousness, her thoughts wandered lazily, swinging from one topic to the next: Trevor and the relationship the two of them had, despite their many differences, how things would be without him, and everything he had done and was still doing for her, unsure if she could ever repay him for his kindness and sacrifice; what she and Cerasus--or, at least, what remained of him--had become, and the pains they shared; Riley, staying at the abandoned school, doing who-knew-what to pass the time until he decided to leave for his next adventure, and that she might bring him a deck of playing cards for in the meantime; that it was rather stuffy beneath the pillow she had over her face, and she should seriously think about looking into finding black-out curtains for her bedroom.
	She groaned inwardly when she heard her door squeak softly open. She could not get a break, it seemed, even with the days of the glorious summer vacation coming to an end. Though she had dreaded it when it began, now, she wished it did not have to end, that she would not have to add school on top of everything else she had on her mind. She waited for whichever of the two little demons that called themselves her brothers to make their presence known, wanting to prolong her time in bed as much as possible.
	Alas, her efforts were rewarded with Blake’s newest attempt at being an alarm clock.
	She gave a gasping moan in pain as his elbow dug into her stomach, knocking the wind from her, and her upper body sprung up, arms reaching to try shoving him away.
	“You little brat!” she growled once she could breathe again, strands of her hair sticking up in odd angles as it settled around her face. Her gaze focused on Blake sitting on her legs, her gaze murderous. Her glare only darkened at his question. “When you grow up.” She moved her legs in an attempt at pushing him off her bed. “Get outta my room, or I’ll make your bacon extra blackened for the next year.”