Raisel dropped his hand, surging up from the bed to glare at Ian, though the entire motion made him want to hurl. "What do you mean by that?!" he hissed. Comfortable with his own sexuality? Fine, so what if Ian was? Did he mean to imply something about Raisel? He grit his teeth, unable to stop the mess of emotions that rose with that thought. Oh hell no. He would die before turning gay.

Flipping over, he decided that he didn't want an answer so he continued to mutter without waiting for one. "Don't tempt me or a I will. Ugh...I hate myself right now. Hurts..." Without thinking that he spoke aloud, he continued to mutter to himself, not intending for Ian to hear. He didn't even consider that he might. Already, Raisel's eyelids were starting to droop. Whether Ian responded back to him or not, he had no way to tell because seconds later, he fell into sleep.

Normally, Raisel had no need for alarms. As soon as the sun rose, so did he. It probably resulted from not sleeping deeply in the first place, but the following morning was an exception. Even after Ian woke and left their room, he still lay in a mess on top of the sheets. He'd never managed to crawl under them the night before and instead managed to tangle his legs. By the time that Ian returned, he'd only managed to twist so that he face pressed into the pillow, away from the sunlight starting to stream in. The beams of light accented his bare back and the peregrine falcon tattooed between his shoulder blades, wings spread wide toward the sky outside. However, Raisel himself did not stir to chase after the dream that his tattoo represented.