Ian
Ian left the kitchen, leaving the two souls alone together. He didn't want to be around people anymore. Nope. Walking through the hallway, away from Azalea and Azryel, he headed towards his sanctuary. Water droplets flung themselves off of his unnaturally cold body towards the plush carpet or blank walls. Every time the bottom of his boots pressed down into this carpet a damp print etched itself into the neutral-colored floor. When he finally arrived in front of the door, Ian stared at it blankly, forgetting why he was going into his room for a moment. He shook his head trying to remember what he needed to do for the day. In this action, Ian's bandanna loosened its feeble grip around his forehead even more. More strands of hair were slipping from its grasp, flowing down over his sharply chiseled face.
A dull ache pounded in his head, the headache had started when Azalea ran away crying, but Ian hadn't noticed until now. Surprisingly, his body was fatigued and mind was already shutting itself down for sleep. Ian instinctively knew that he needed his large, plush bed and avoid collapsing in the hall. But he didn't seem to have enough energy to turn the knob of the vivid red painted door. The brightness hurt his lone eye.
He opened his door, carefully avoiding the clear wire that was placed a few inches from the threshold. Ian blinked, or winked, or whatever this has been gone over, when he realized that no one had ever seen his room without being drenched, covered in something, or, at least, thoroughly annoyed. Huh, Ian was actually a really closed off person, not letting anyone see his room, or most of his emotions, or most of his thoughts. But no one ever noticed because of how easy going and playful he acted. It was a sad thought, but there wasn't anything to do about it. It wasn't like he could change his habits with a snap of a finger. Nor did Ian want to change, it wasn't like his life was miserable.
Oh, wait. His wasn't, but Azalea's was. Oh the things that occur in such a short span of time.
Ian efficiently maneuvered his way to his welcoming bed, while he removed water laden clothing and kicked off his boots. He collapse onto the bed, similar to a bag being dropped to the ground. Unmoving and forgotten. He ripped off his brilliantly red headband and threw it into the depths of his trap filled room. Now Ian was lying on his messy bed only where a pair of boxers, he shivered, skin absorbing all of warmth it could find in the bed under his body. Ian rolled onto his stomach, kicking the sheets out from under him and pulled the linen threaded blankets over his rapidly warming body.
Again, the dull ache decided to make its presence known to him, but causing a sharp stabbing pain in the back of his head. Ian randomly thought that Azalea had found the courage and stabbing the back of his head as a form of revenge for not returning her feelings. It was a morbid thought, but humans did that sort of thing all the time. Ian has read about it over and over, each time he's opinion on the human race as a whole diminished a bit.
Ian forced himself to stop thinking about such morbid things and snuggled deeper into the mattress. He sighed in content, happy with the warm bubble that surrounded him. His long limbs scrawled out, taking up as much room on the bed as possible. One arm was under a pillow while the other laid by his side. His body was at an angle so his legs could stretch out in opposite sides comfortable.
Suddenly, he remembered that his eye-patch still covered his deformed eye, tugging it off. Ian flung the disgusting material across the room to accompany his bandanna. Blinking both eyes, he winced slightly at how normal his right eye felt. Even though the skin around it was rugged and deep red, the eyeball was completely white, as if when he was being formed someone forgot to give him a pupil. This meant that Ian was completely blind in his right eye, even when he took over the body he sometimes had a tough time using the right eye.
Ian let his eyes slide close and waited patiently for sleep to dig its tendrils into his conscious mind. Unfortunately, his mind was more awake than it was a few minutes ago and started wandering off onto a random train of thoughts. He thought about the meaning of life, about whether or not he should bother going to school, about things as random as what was the strangest supernatural creature. Ian personally thought that aliens were the strongest with their superior intellect and "awesomely tech-filled laser gadgets". In the middle of this flow of thinking, sleep had taken over his body and mind.
He wasn't going to remember when exactly he fell asleep or what he was thinking about, but Ian was going to be refreshed whenever he was going to wake up. Hopefully.