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For a teenage boy, Isi sure acted like one sometimes, despite his overwhelmingly mature nature at times. He was still prone to moments of acting his age, especially in the late mornings when he was half-asleep.

Isi wasn't a morning person. Before Alex came along, providing a more secure atmosphere of the house, Isi would wake a little after Aphi did, to eat breakfast and see him off on his way to work. Sometimes Aphi left late, and sometimes he left early, but either way, Isi would flux his schedule to match Aphismet's. Now he wasn't doing it much so often. He had grown older, and, with the introduction of Alex, Isi had felt more inclined to sleep in, and sleep in he did. This particular day, Isi slept in to a little before 12. Sleeping, for Isi, had never been an easy task, but then again, putting up with the house's resident ghosts and their leader, the ever active Eirdirsceol, sleep was considered a chore. So, to keep up with the rigorous demands of sleep his body made, Isi chose to sleep in, enjoying the early hours of the morning when Eiry finally did go to sleep.

Stumbling down the stairwell in his pajamas, practically clinging to the rail with the entirety of the top of his body to keep himself from falling, Isi descended as gracefully as a deer in socks too clean for the slippery wooden ******** understand why there...has to be so many...god damn...damn...stairs...dammit," he mumbled, his eyes still nearly halfway shut and crusted with sleep remnants.

Finally at the bottom of the stairwell, Isi took a pause and rested himself on the stair step, rubbing furiously at his eyes and pinching his face to wake himself up. It did little help. Isi was quite firmly drenched in sleep and it was a matter of his resolute determination keeping him awake to get to the milk carton.

Lifting himself up again with the help of the rail, Isi managed to convince his legs to fall into place underneath him, and, with the help of the wall, made his way to the kitchen. Milk was like water to Isi, and he drank it whenever he possibly could. Which meant that Aphi had to buy more milk than necessary when he made trips to the grocer just to accommodate Isi's ravenous thirst. Stumbling his way over to the fridge, Isi wrenched it open, found a carton quite clearly labeled "Isikoro" in black permanent marker, and yanked it out. Shuffling to the counter, he sat himself up on one of the high stools and possessively hugged the milk, unscrewing the cap, before he took the entire thing and tilted it back into his mouth.

Almost a moment afterward, he coughed and spewed milk that was actually not milk, but a combination of salt, milk, hot sauce, and pickle juice. Coughing hard, Isi wiped his mouth on his sleeve and struggled to get the taste off his tongue, licking his shirt in vain attempt.

"Dammit! Eirdirsceol!"

Lifting a gaze that could probably spoil milk, Isi gave a brief hello to the Italian who had materialized out of no where and bequeathed unto him a handy dandy rag. He snatched it from his shoulder and rubbed it viciously across his mouth, unhappy as he watched her take away the milk that was not milk. The taste was still there, clinging like briers to his tongue and making his eyes water. Lifting up the tea to his mouth, he didn't bother to savor its taste. He simply downed the entire cup in one frantic and big attempt to blaze the foul taste away, only to be disappointed. The addition of tea only made it taste a different kind of gross, if not a worse one. His face deepened into an even firmer frown.

"Thanks, Alex," he muttered unhappily, setting the emptied tea cup onto the table. He glanced at her again as she moved over to the fridge to ascertain the status of the other milk carton, "If that 'thing' loves me, then why does he have to ruin one of the few things I love?"

The boy, with a slight wince underneath the overwhelmingly gentle kiss to his unkempt hair, looked up again at Alex, this time, not so much looking angered as much as he was hurt. There was a weakness in him, exposed just for Alex, who had an uncanny way of making the boy act the way he truly was.

"I don't go about ruining people's milk," he commented sourly, laying himself onto the counter top in a defeated manner. The cold of the counter pressed against his freckled cheek and he gave a heavy sigh.