Chapter 47: Almighty Augustine Wales is jealous.
Minutes later, the sob of Charles subsided a little, as he began to sniff his nose, trying to prevent snorts from rolling out.
"Hey," Augustine purred, gently placing his hands on Charles’s shoulders as he tried to ease him out of the embrace. "Do you want some water?" he asked softly, his voice laced with warmth.
Just as if Charles was being compelled, he promptly nodded his head in response to the question that Augustine had just thrown at him.
Exhaling...
Augustine exhaled, rising from the floor as he stepped out of the bedroom.
Charles, now alone, slowly rose from the floor and made his way to the bathroom.
He took off his clothes and turned on the shower, letting the warm water cascade over him, soaking through his hair and trailing down his tense body.
As the steam filled the space, he closed his eyes, allowing the water to mingle with the remnants of his tears.
Charles breath hitched, a quiet reminder of the emotions still lodged deep in his chest.
Once the water had numbed the ache, he reached for a white bathrobe from the shelf, wrapping it around his damp skin.
And then, Charles inhaled deeply, steadying himself before finally stepping out of the bathroom, his heart still heavy with unspoken pain.
Charles scanned the room, expecting to find Augustine seated on the bed with the bottle of water he had requested. But as his gaze swept across the space, it became clear—Augustine still hadn’t returned.
Exhaling!
Charles exhaled, stepped over to the wardrobe, and pulled out a white singlet and blue boxer briefs.
Without hesitation, he let the bathrobe slip off his body and quickly put on the clothes.
’Why is Augustine not yet back?’ Charles wondered, his chest tightening with unease. ’Did I say too much? Did my breakdown push him away?’
His mind spiraled with doubts as he went on to hurl more questions at himself. ’Or... could it be that he’s disgusted by me? By the way, I cried and laid everything bare?’ Charles inwardly questioned himself.
Deep down, Charles felt certain that Augustine was disgusted. It was the only explanation he could think of for why Augustine hadn’t returned to the bedroom yet.
With an annoyed scoff, stomped towards the bed, and threw himself onto it.
He shut his eyes, determined to find refuge in sleep, hoping that the darkness would make his mind to feel at ease.
Charles was still struggling to force himself to sleep when the bedroom door suddenly slid open.
His eyes fluttered open, and he turned his head just in time to see Augustine stepping inside, his arms completely filled with an assortment of items—a large box of pizza balanced against his chest, a one-liter bottle of Coke tucked under one arm, a small cake resting atop the pizza box, and in his other hand, a bouquet of fresh roses.
Charles blinked in surprise, his heart skipping a beat at the unexpected sight.
For a moment, Charles just stared, his emotions tangled between relief and disbelief.
Then, without realizing it, the corners of his lips curved into a small but genuine smile. "I thought you ran away," Charles whispered, slowly raising his back from the bed as he sat down properly.
Augustine shook his head slowly, a teasing smirk playing on his lips. "I can’t run away from you, Pookie," he purred, his voice laced with playful seduction as he took a slow, deliberate step toward Charles.
Charles tensed slightly, his breath hitching as he watched Augustine close the distance between them.
"We’re bound by contract," Augustine continued, his tone dipping into something almost sultry. "So, even if I wanted to run... I couldn’t."
There was something in the way Augustine spoke—something that sent a shiver down Charles’s spine, leaving him uncertain whether it was from irritation or something far more dangerous.
Augustine took his seat on the bed, setting the cake, flower, box of pizza, and the bottle of coke all onto the bed.
"I’m not sure what helps calm you after a bad day, so I got the things I thought you might enjoy," Augustine explained sincerely.
"There’s no chocolate," Charles mumbled, his voice barely above a whisper. "I usually calm down with chocolate, or maybe ice cream."
Charles words were soft but audible to Augustine. "But... since you went through all this trouble to get all this for me, I’m grateful."
Charles’ tone softened, the weight of his earlier frustration easing just a little as he appreciated the effort Augustine had made.
Augustine smiled warmly, carefully opening the box of pizza and cutting a slice, offering it to Charles with a soft, inviting tone. "Here," he purred, his voice laced with care.
Charles hesitated for a moment, shrugging his shoulders, but the gesture was enough to melt some of the tension.
With a small sigh, Charles reached out and took the slice from Augustine’s hand.
Charles averted his gaze toward the bedside table, focusing on the surface as he ate the slice of pizza, deliberately avoiding any eye contact with Augustine.
He felt a mix of emotions swirling within him, unsure whether to face Augustine or retreat into his own thoughts.
Augustine, however, sat quietly, observing Charles with an unreadable expression as he chose not to utter any words from his mouth, sensing that Charles needs a quiet moment.
Augustine stepped out of the bedroom and a minute later, he returned with a knife in his hand.
"Did you tell them to write ’I am sorry’ at the top of the cake?" Charles asked, his curiosity piqued as he noticed the words written in icing on the cake.
Augustine glanced down at the cake and chuckled lightly.
"Words aren’t my strong suit." Augustine whispered, his calm voice conveying his regret. "I requested for an apology cake because I I hope my actions will speak for themselves."
He paused for a while as his eyes locked onto Charles’s, and in that quiet moment, his unspoken words seemed to plead for forgiveness, silently asking Charles to understand and forgive everything that had happened at the company building.
Augustine, now seated on the bed directly opposite Charles, extended the knife he had been holding, a soft smile on his lips. "Here, cut the cake," he whispered, his voice gentle, as if offering not just the cake, but a chance to mend things between them.
Charles scoffed, his grip tightening around the knife as he pointed the sharp edge dangerously close to Augustine’s eyes.
The blade was mere inches from Augustine’s eyes, and the proximity made him hold his breath, his eyes locked wide open.
"What if I use this knife to cut you, just so you can feel the pain I felt?" Charles seethed, his voice low and harsh, his eyes cold as they locked onto Augustine, daring him to challenge the threat. "Maybe then you’ll understand how much you’ve hurt me." Charles hissed.
Augustine swallowed hard, his voice barely above a whisper. "Charles Donald, if I’m being completely honest with you, I need you to understand that I scolded myself when I went back to my office. I kept asking myself why I didn’t protect you. I felt confused, scared... and I don’t even understand why I was so afraid."
Augustine paused, taking a deep breath before continuing, his voice heavy with regret. "I told myself I should have embraced you, should have told everyone that you’re the man who has stolen my heart."
Augustine sniffed his nose and just as he was about to flutter his eyelashes, Charles pulled the knife, a bit taken aback by the words that had just rolled out from Augustine’s mouth.
’Why does he feel the urge to tell others that he likes me?’ Charles inwardly questioned himself but didn’t bother to utter his question out loud.
Augustine fluttered his eyelashes, his gaze softening as he spoke. "I... I wasn’t disgusted at you, Charles Donald. I can never be disgusted at you."
Augustine clenched his fist, his knuckles pale from the pressure, and stared at the ceiling as if searching for something, a way to put his thoughts into words.
His breath hitched slightly, and he fluttered his eyelashes a few times, trying to steady himself.
When he finally turned his gaze back to Charles, it was with an intensity that matched the vulnerability in his eyes.
"I... I was disgusted at myself because I couldn’t stand up for you," he said softly, his voice trembling with regret.
He paused, looking down at his hands before continuing, his gaze unable to meet Charles’s. "I should’ve been stronger. I should’ve been the one to protect you, to be there when you needed me the most. But instead, I froze. I let you down."
Augustine’s chest tightened, and he took a slow, steady breath, trying to regain his composure. "At first, I was upset at you when I received the text you sent, telling me to pretend like we didn’t know each other. I didn’t understand why you did it. I thought... I thought you were pushing me away, and it hurt more than I cared to admit."
He closed his eyes for a moment, the memory of that instant still fresh in his mind. "Then I saw you with Freda. The way you two were so close, the way she was so... comfortable with you. I couldn’t stop the jealousy that twisted in my chest."
"H-huh?" Charles stuttered as he arched his brows upwards. "You were jealous?"
"Well... I won’t put it like that." Augustine stuttered. "I... I was simply... well, I was a bit jealous." He admitted.
"H-huh? Does this mean, the great almighty Augustine Wales was jealous?" Charles probed, but what Augustine did next caught him by surprise.