Chapitre 48: The Restraint of A Saint

"...What're you doing, Emilio?"

Celly's words came out lightly and tiredly as her emerald eyes were only half-open, but he immediately withdrew his hand with cheeks completely flushed.

"Err, n-nothing!" He said.

"...I see…" Celly yawned.

He let out a sigh of relief from not being caught on the subconscious act of "copping a feel."

After such a dangerous encounter, he could still feel the amber liquid meddling with his senses. So knowing it was rather risky to be around, he chose to tuck his young tutor into bed, pulling the blanket over her and patting it softly.

"...Thank you…"

The slumbersome gratitude escaped Celly's lips in a yawn as the silver-haired young lady used her hand to gently pat his head a few times.

He couldn't help but smile before a yawn escaped his lips by accident as well.

Man…I'm tired, too, he thought.