"Charles, I don't," Augustine murmured, his voice dipped in something low and seductive—but the playful wink he threw Charles's way, paired with the sly smirk curling on his lips, said otherwise.
Charles shook his head slowly, feigning disappointment as a small sigh escaped his lips. "You are so weird," he purred.
"I'm weird only when I'm around you," Augustine replied, his voice sincere this time, eyes locked on Charles with a warmth that softened his usual mischief.
Charles sneered, turning his face away from Augustine as his gaze shifted to the rain-soaked window.
Droplets of water streamed down the glass in chaotic trails, blurring the outside world.
From the way the sky looked—dark and brooding—it was clear the rain had no plans of stopping anytime soon.
Charles exhaled deeply, his breath fogging a small patch of the glass, and without meaning to, his mind slipped back to that moment—the day he'd collapsed on the road.
