Chapter Thirteen III

"Uhm, soft," Celestine mumbled with her eyes shut as soon as her back laid onto the soft mattress of the bed. She switches positions from one place to another, unable to find a perfect spot on the bed for her body to comfortably rest in. Vincent did not move, nor speak. He just watches her as frustration flashed through her reddish face. 

She moaned and once again, changes her position. It messed up the bedsheets, some pillows even fell to the floor but despite that, he remained still, looking at her face. 

"I don't know what you're doing to me, woman," he whispered as he stepped closer to the bed, removed his slippers, sat on the bed fastidiously—trying his best not to disturb Celestine. 

For a moment he stopped breathing as he finally laid to her side. Vincent has no idea of why he's doing all this. He's waiting for something in him to protest but he can't find it. He doubts if it's even there at a