"Come on, Augustine, stop flirting with me," Charles whispered, giving his shoulder a playful tap as a blush bloomed across his cheeks.
Augustine chuckled, the sound deep and sultry. "I'm just saying what I wish to do," he murmured, taking Charles's hand in his and lacing their fingers together before pulling him gently out of the sitting room—his touch possessive, his intent unmistakable.
As the sitting room door clicked shut behind them, Augustine glanced upward, his eyes catching the heavy, brooding sky. "I think it's about to rain," he murmured, voice low and thoughtful.
Charles followed his gaze, nodding slowly. "Yeah," he replied, his tone soft, almost teasing. "Looks like the morning sky is about to get a little wetter."
Sigh!
"I… I think I'm the worst partner ever," Charles suddenly confessed, his voice laced with uncertainty.
Augustine arched a brow, confusion flickering across his face. "What? Why would you say that?" he asked, his tone a mix of curiosity and concern.
