Chapter 137: You love me?
"You... did you just say that you love me?" Augustine asked, his voice faltering as each word rolled out slowly.
Charles let out a dry scoff. "Are you stupid?" he snapped, eyes blazing. "Do you think anything I say even matters now?" His jaw tightened as he shook his head in bitter disappointment.
Charles was extremely disappointed by the behaviour of Augustine. "You... you’re the worst thing that’s ever happened to me, Augustine," he said, his voice cracking as more tears slid down his cheeks. "And I hate... I hate you with every fiber of my being."
The weight of those words hit Augustine like a physical blow. He clenched his fists, his own eyes stinging, but he kept his distance, unsure if he had any right to comfort Charles.
All he could do was watch, helpless, as the man he loved fell apart before him.
Charles licked his trembling lips, trying to steady himself, but the pain in his chest only deepened.
"I just..."
Charles opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out. He was drained—utterly exhausted from the surge of emotions crashing through him.
"Just... Augustine, from today henceforth, I need you to stay away from me," he finally said, his voice low but firm.
Augustine swallowed hard, his chest tightening. "Charles, please don’t... please, I can’t stay away from you. I’m sorry," he pleaded, reaching out and trying to grasp Charles’s wrist.
Charles shoved Augustine’s hand away, his expression hardened. "I need some fresh air. And I’ll be... I can’t stay in the mansion with you from now on."
This time, Charles voice held a boldness that hadn’t been there before.
He pushed his glasses up, resting them on his head, then wiped away the tear stains clinging to his cheeks with the back of his hand.
Augustine swallows hard.
He had no idea what to do—no clue what words could ease the heavy silence hanging between them.
With a deep sigh, Augustine forced a fragile smile onto his lips. "Why don’t you sleep at the mansion?" he suggested softly. "I’ll find somewhere else to stay tonight."
He knew all too well that if Charles were to start searching for an hotel at this hour, it would be nearly impossible to find one open.
’He looks completely drained...’ Augustine thought, his gaze lingering on Charles’s weary expression. ’I can’t bear the thought of adding to his exhaustion... not after everything I’ve already done.’
Meanwhile, Charles shook his head firmly, rejecting Augustine’s offer. "I don’t want to be in the same car with you," he said, his voice low but steady, his chest rising and falling from sheer exhaustion.
"I’m taking the car," he added boldly.
Without waiting for a response, Charles turned on his heel, marched to the car, and swung the driver’s door open.
He slid into the seat, gripping the wheel like it was the only thing grounding him.
The key was already in the ignition, so Charles closed his eyes and took a long, deep breath.
Leaning forward, he rested his head against the steering wheel for a few seconds, letting the weight of the night sink in.
Then, with a slow exhale, Charles turned the key, listening to the low hum of the engine come to life.
’Now what?’ he thought, his eyes scanning the dashboard, unsure of what came next.
After scanning the car for what felt like an eternity, Augustine, standing on the other side of the car door, let out a frustrated sigh.
His footsteps echoed in the quiet night as he made his way over to the driver’s side, his eyes locked on Charles.
"Hey," Augustine called out, his voice soft but insistent, as he opened the door to the driver’s seat. "Can I take you home?" He raised an eyebrow, his expression a mix of hope and uncertainty.
Augustine stood there, waiting, a quiet resolve in his stance. "I know you’re upset," he continued softly, "but I can’t let you drive yourself like this." His voice was calm, almost pleading.
Charles shot him a glare, a hiss escaping his lips in frustration. "I said I don’t want to be anywhere near you..." His voice wavered, his lips trembling with every word. "I don’t want to be around you..."
But before Charles could finish, the emotions he had been holding back broke free.
Tears welled up in his eyes, and he let out a broken cry as they streaked down his face.
"Hey, pookie, please don’t cry." Augustine’s voice softened, filled with an unfamiliar gentleness as he stepped closer, his words laced with regret.
"I said stop calling me that!" Charles snapped, a snort escaping from his nose as he quickly wiped it away with the back of his hand.
Augustine hesitated. "Umm, why don’t I drive you over to the mansion? After that, I’ll leave and find somewhere else to spend the night," he suggested, hoping that Charles would agree to his words.
Charles sniffed, refusing to speak as his emotions surged again.
Without saying a word, he climbed out of the car, rounding it with an almost mechanical motion.
Charles slid into the seat opposite the driver’s, his body rigid with unspoken tension.
Augustine slid into the driver’s seat, his hands gripping the steering wheel with quiet determination.
He shifted the car into gear, the engine humming as the vehicle glided down the lonely night road, barely lit by a few passing cars.
In the silence that hung between them, Charles continued to cry, his face turned toward the window as he did his best to hold back the sobs threatening to break free.
Augustine’s eyes flickered to him briefly, each silent tear that fell from Charles’s eyes driving a sharp pain through his chest.
The weight of Charles’s earlier words, "I love you," now replaced by the cold sting of "I hate you," tore at Augustine’s heart, each word felt like a wound too deep to heal.
Augustine couldn’t help but mentally berate himself.
He scolded himself for denying Charles, for hiding behind a façade.
’I should have been truthful to myself, just told the world that I’m gay,’ he thought bitterly, his heart shattering with every passing second.
The guilt gnawed at him relentlessly, the realization that he had hurt the one person he cared for more than anyone else.
When the car finally came to a halt at the mansion, Augustine wasted no time.
He practically jumped out of the car, rushing around to Charles’s side, as he opened the door without a word, his hands trembling slightly.
He could barely meet Charles’s eyes, but he knew he couldn’t just leave him there.
Charles scoffed. "Now that you’ve dropped me off, leave the mansion!" he commanded. Augustine nodded. "Alright, but can I... please, can I at least wipe your tears? I’m seriously hurt by seeing you like this, Charles. I hate hurting you."
"If you hate hurting me, then you should’ve thought twice before giving your useless speech on that runway stage," Charles seethed.
Without warning, he closed the distance between himself and Augustine, and then he....