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58. Alastair

Alastair

"What? Sleepy?" I asked, my brows furrowing in concern as I watched Chelsea make her way to the bed and sit down. Something seemed off, and her actions raised alarm bells in my mind.

Her fingers clenched the fabric of her skirt tightly, and she shook her head in response to my question. My worry deepened, and I couldn't help but observe her closely, my gaze searching for any signs of distress.

"Hungry? Want something to eat?" I inquired, my voice gentle as I tried to decipher the cause of her discomfort. It was clear that she was struggling with something, and I wanted to offer any assistance I could.

Once again, she shook her head, her discomfort becoming more pronounced. I studied her expression carefully, my concern growing with each passing moment.

Scanning the room and then turning my attention back to her, I finally understood what might be happening. "Is it too cold here? Should I increase the temperature?" I suggested, hoping that adjusting the room's temperature might
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