The warm comforter Vincent was wrapped around, usually referred to as Isabel, unwound itself from his arms and moved away, taking its warmth with it. Vincent shifted a little, grumbling in his sleep as he sought to reclaim the warm that had been stolen from him. But it was no longer there.
He shifted again, unable to get comfortable now. Slowly, and after much deliberation, Vincent cracked open one eye, only to shut it again when the daylight seeped in. He growled softly, then made a second attempt at looking, opening both eyes this time.
Isabel was not in bed. Isabel was getting out of the bed, ready to leave greet the day. Vincent did not like that. Reaching out, he grabbed the edge of her slip and pulled her back in. He wasn't ready to get up yet.