CHAPTER 166: I DON’T MIND IF YOU KEEP STARING AT ME.

Charles welled up in tears as he rose from the bed, drawing in a deep breath. "What exactly have I done to deserve someone like Augustine?" he questioned himself, placing a trembling hand over his lips, trying to steady his breath.

Swallowing hard, Charles turned to face the door and, with hurried steps, rushed over and swiftly pulled it open.

With a swift movement, Charles ran down the staircase, his robe fluttering behind him like a storm about to break.

"Hey!" Charles called out breathlessly, his voice catching just as his feet hit the final step.

Augustine, who had been pacing the sitting room in restless loops, froze mid-step. His eyes locked with Charles’s, the tension in his shoulders melting.

"Hey, Pookie," Augustine purred, his voice soft and warm—like velvet against bare skin.

Charles smirked, biting down on his lower lip as his eyes drank in the sight of Augustine.

"Is everything alright?" Augustine asked, his voice laced with concern as he caught the intensity in Charles’s stare.

Charles nodded quickly, his breath hitching. "I... I love you too, Augustine Wales," he purred, voice trembling with emotion.

Without hesitation, Charles rushed toward him, leaping into Augustine’s arms.

He wrapped his hands around Augustine’s neck and locked his legs tightly around his waist, holding onto him like he never wanted to let go.

Charles rested his head on Augustine’s shoulder, inhaling his scent deeply like it was the only thing grounding him.

With a soft smile, Augustine’s hands gripped Charles firmly, holding him up with ease. "I love you too, Pookie," he whispered, placing a tender kiss at the side of Charles hair.

Silence...

Silence wrapped around them like a soft blanket, both men lost in the comfort of each other’s embrace.

Their hearts beat in quiet sync, grounding them in the moment.

After a minute, the tension in Charles’s arms began to ease. His grip around Augustine’s neck loosened, and slowly—almost reluctantly—he slid down from Augustine’s body, his feet finding the floor again, though part of Charles still longed to stay suspended in that warmth.

He smiled, lifting his head to properly meet Augustine’s gaze.

"Pookie, you’re making me feel weak just by staring at me like that," Augustine whispered, his voice barely audible, thick with emotion.

"Pfft!" Charles scoffed, clearly delighted. "Isn’t that a good thing? Or would you rather I look away?" he teased, his eyes gleaming with playful affection.

"No!" Augustine quickly blurted out. "I... I don’t mind if you keep staring at me."

Augustine’s voice wavered slightly, and his cheeks, along with the tips of his ears, turned a noticeable shade of red.

Charles swallowed hard, took a step back, and slipped his hands into the pockets of his bathrobe, trying to steady himself.

"How did you get the flower so quickly?" he asked, his voice softer now, attempting to shift the mood from intense confession to something lighter, more curious.

"I told Reginald to bring me a rose bouquet. He didn’t even know I was awake, so when I called, he showed up all eager."

Charles arched a brow, his curiosity piqued. "So... where’s Reginald now?"

Augustine chuckled softly at the question, then casually strolled over to the couch and sank into it with a sigh, stretching his legs slightly.

Nervously, Augustine scratched the back of his neck, his fingers fumbling as if the simple gesture might calm the flurry of thoughts running through his mind.

"I... I sent Reginald away," Augustine stammered, his voice betraying an edge of unease. "But, you don’t have to scold me about that. Reginald was actually pretty thrilled. He mentioned he had a date with Freda."

Augustine’s eyes flickered up to Charles, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips, as if he was trying to make light of the situation.

"What?"

Augustine chuckled, a playful glint in his eyes. "Why do you seem so surprised?" he teased, his voice dripping with mischief. "My secretary has this huge crush on your best friend, but for some reason, she doesn’t want him—she likes me instead. Funny, right?"

Charles rolled his eyes dramatically, the sarcasm evident in his expression.

With a swift motion, he pushed his medicated glasses up the bridge of his nose, his gaze never leaving Augustine’s.

Charles closed the space between them with a confident stride, his lips curving into a subtle smirk as if to say, I see through your game, but I’m intrigued.

As Charles sat down beside Augustine, his brow arched, eyes narrowing with playful suspicion. "Did Freda actually say she was going on a date with Reginald?" he asked, his tone laced with intrigue. "She didn’t mention anything about Reginald. Are you sure he said it was a DATE?"

When Charles said the word ’Date,’ he drew out each syllable slowly, making sure Augustine caught the full weight of the question.

"Pookie," Augustine began, his voice smooth as he glanced sideways at Charles, "my secretary said he feels like this is a date, but Freda doesn’t feel the same way. Reginald also claimed that the reason Freda is so close to him is because she uses him to get information about my me... her crush."

Charles couldn’t help but chuckle, laughing out loud in utter delight. The thought of Freda’s secret intentions amused him.

’It would definitely break Freda’s heart if she finds out that I’m dating the man she likes,’ Charles thought playfully, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

Sigh!

Augustine turned his body around, his gaze locking firmly with Charles. "Let’s stop talking about Freda and Reginald," he suggested, his tone shifting to something more serious. "Let’s talk about you, Pookie," he added, his voice low as he reached out, grabbing Charles’ hands gently.

Augustine’s eyes bore into Charles’ with an intensity that made the air between them feel charged before he proceeded in speaking up.

"How are you feeling?" Augustine asked, his expression softening, showing a rare vulnerability as he waited for Charles’ response.

And then, Charles decided to give Augustine a sincere reply.