Chapter 49 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.

Looking at the space left on the bed that the girl was laying on, a certain thought did cross his mind. It was a thought, or perhaps a wish of his, so far out of the realm of possibility for him that he instantly dissuaded it from his mind.

There’s no way that’s feasible, he thought.

What was this thought that was so out-of-this-world yet still on the mind of the hopeful, intoxicated boy?

He wanted to sleep in bed with Celly. There wasn’t even much of a devious inspiration behind this desire–it was just something that wound up on his bucket list. That, and the alcohol was certainly not helping his right state of mind.

…I’m getting out of here before I do something that’ll make me embarrassed tomorrow morning, he thought.

As soon as he made an effort to walk away, through sheer willpower that fought against the devilish voice in his head–his sleeve was grabbed.

“–Huh?”

Looking back, he saw the girl with silver locks looking up at him with those tired eyes, holding cheeks of a red tint as she hiccuped.

“Thank you…Emilio…” Celly said quietly.

–And just as those words left, she passed out completely.

A smile came over his lips as he nodded and made sure she was properly tucked, turning back with the intent of going to bed himself before remembering something–

Her clothes, he realized.

They were completely soaked in icy cold water. While he wasn’t ignorant of this fact, the implications of it didn’t come to mind until just then with the thought of tucking her in warmly.

…If she sleeps in drenched clothes like that, she’ll get sick…! He thought.

Though it was obvious what would be needed in order to circumvent this issue, even for the lecherous being he was, it was in a different horizon itself.

Undressing…a drunk, unconscious girl…!? I’d end up on five lists if I did something like this back home! But…It’s for a good cause, right? I’m doing it to help her! Plus, I’m a kid!…It’s fine, right? He gulped.

As he slapped his own cheeks, he forged his resolve.

…I’ll get her out of those wet clothes so she doesn’t get sick! He thought.

It was a special mission only he could do–at least, that’s what he told himself to dissuade any notion of this being for any other reason than Celly’s own benefit.

First, he checked the stand beside the bed, opening the first drawer as he was immediately met with severe whiplash at what waited within–

The pantie drawer.

It was the utopia of a pervert’s mind; the end-all-be-all of a wardrobe discovery.

Heavy exhales left as he was stunned by the sight–black laced, vanilla white, polka dotted blue–there was a variety of undergarments stored there.

As he stared at the drawer, he found his left hand naturally reaching out toward the sacred fabric, having to grab his own wrist to stop himself.

…No! It’s not the time for that! He told himself.

He withdrew his hand, breathing in and out to calm himself before he checked the next drawer, finding a vanilla nightgown that was designed with minimal flowers; it was definitely something he had seen Celly wear to bed on a few nights.

Alright…this will work…Wait, how am I going to get this on her?! He realized.

It was definitely a problem as Celly wasn’t heavy by any means, in fact she was as lithe and in shape as one could expect, but the problem was that he was once again plagued by the issue of having the body of a thirteen-year-old boy.

“–“

By this point, the silver-haired young lady was already snoring quietly and quite cutely, at that. This was important to note because if he was going to do this, he was making sure there was absolutely no chance she was waking up amidst the process.

After studying her breathing patterns for a minute while holding flushed cheeks, he confirmed that she was indeed in deep sleep.

Alright…! Let’s do this! He told himself.

He reached down, placing his hands on the buttons to her soaked shirt as he gulped.

It wasn’t as if he hadn’t seen her nude before, in fact, he saw a whole lot of her on one occasion, but this time–it was different.

Alcohol was still giving him a certain warmness to his body and his mind, and the scenario was completely changed.

And so, he did it. Beginning to undo the buttons to her soaked, snow-white shirt, he gulped and began to open it.

…Stay strong! Don’t pop a tent now! Don’t unsheath Excalibur! He urged himself.

Of course, he wasn’t some sort of saint. At his core, this was somebody who had lecherous thoughts twelve hours a day. With that in mind, he wasn’t averting his eyes.

In a strong tug, he opened her shirt, revealing the contents below that were almost too much for his eyes to process–

“Boing,” that was the sole thought in his mind.

They weren’t large by any means, but they certainly weren’t small. But, size wasn’t the attribute most noticeable about the pair of heavenly mounds, but the complete symmetry of them and the fact that they were smooth and completely free of any blemishes–not a mole, wrinkle, or anything to be seen.

He audibly gulped at the sight, remaining frozen as the fluster on his cheeks grew and he began to sweat.

…Think, Emilio, think! He urged himself.

After having to slap his own cheeks again to bring himself into focus, he removed her shirt, which by some miracle didn’t wake her up.

While the sight of her bare chest was certainly enough to send his devious mind into overdrive, what came next was even worse: the removal of her lower garments.

“–“

What the hell am I even doing…?! Couldn’t I have asked Mother to do this?…Wait–whatever! I’m too far in to back out now! This is for her sake! He told himself.

He gulped and prepared himself–steeling his mind as he removed her soaked skirt. Just like that, the demure tutor of his was in nothing more than her panties and he was in a situation that would be unsalvageable if he was caught.

Still, he had to fight every urge in his body not to caress her smooth, pale thighs as they were slick with the rainfall from before.

…Resist the ring, Emilio! Throw it into the lava! He told himself.

He forced himself to grab the nightgown and begin the duty he set out to accomplish to begin with.

By the end of it, he miraculously wound up completing the objective he set out to achieve. Somehow, the worst outcome didn’t happen.

“…Phew…”

Maybe…I’m actually less of a degenerate when I’m drunk?…Wait, what kind of twisted concept is that?! He realized.

As he ventured back to his own room, plopping down on his bed, it wasn’t difficult to find himself falling to slumber swiftly with the booze still bringing his body to a soothing warmth.

Well, that was certainly a birthday celebration to remember…He thought.