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"I... I think you did wrong." Charles spat, though his voice betrayed him, each word quivering slightly. "You should never have fallen in love with ."

"But... why?" Augustine’s voice was barely above a whisper, his eyes searching Charles’s face for an answer he wasn’t sure he wanted to hear.

Augustine’s breath hitched as he stared at Charles, disbelief washing over him like a cold wave.

"Augustine, isn’t it obvious?" Charles continued, his voice sharp and rciless. "I’m only in this relationship for your money. If you hadn’t offered anything, I wouldn’t have agreed to be your contracted husband in the first place. And it’s already been over a month—shouldn’t you at least pay what I’m owed?"

His piercing gaze held no warmth, no hesitation. Just cold, hard truth—or at least, that’s what he wanted Augustine to believe.

For a full minute, Augustine stood frozen, his mouth slightly open as he stared at Charles in disbelief.

A few seconds later, he shut his mouth and sniffed, his voice barely above a whisper. "You... you didn’t an any of that, Pookie. I know you didn’t. I believe you didn’t an a single word—"

Before Augustine could finish his sentence, Charles cut in sharply. "I ant every single word that left my mouth. Stop clinging to this delusion of love and see for what I am—a contracted husband." His voice was cold, unwavering.

Charles paused for a brief mont, inhaling deeply before continuing. "Actually, I was thinking... if you don’t mind, I’d appreciate signing a contract where I beco your sex toy. Last night, we almost had sex, and if I had a contract, at least I’d be getting paid for my services."

"What the hell Charles!" Augustine exclaid taking a step back to properly observe Charles. "I know you, Charles. You’re... you’re just saying this to push away. I believe you didn’t an any of it," he whispered, his voice trembling.

Charles’s expression remained unreadable as he stared at Augustine, watching the pain flicker in his eyes but instead of backing down, he exhaled sharply and turned away. "Believe whatever you want."

"Ar... are you..."

Augustine’s voice faltered as he tilted his head back, staring at the ceiling with a weary sigh. "I can’t even bring myself to say anything that would hurt... thar would hurt you because I truly... I deeply love you like crazy. And I know that if I hurt you, I’d only be hurting myself too."

The voice of Augustine was barely above a whisper, heavy with emotion.

Slowly, almost reluctantly, he lowered his gaze from the ceiling, his eyes locking onto Charles with a mixture of pain and longing.

Augustine closed the distance between them, his hands cupping Charles’s cheeks with a tenderness that contradicted the storm swirling in his eyes.

"No matter how hard you try to push away... no matter how cruel your words get, it won’t change the fact that I love you," he murmured, his voice low and intoxicating.

Slowly, he leaned in, his breath ghosting over Charles’s lips, teasing yet unwavering. "I love you so much, Charles Donald," he whispered, the corners of his lips curling into a seductive smile as his gaze darkened with intent.

Charles’s eyes brimd with tears, and in one swift motion, he grabbed Augustine’s hands and shoved them away from his cheeks. "Stop... stop saying that," he snapped, his voice trembling as tears slipped down his face.

"Pookie, I should stop saying I love you—"

Fury ignited in Charles’s eyes as he slamd his fist against Augustine’s chest, cutting him off mid-sentence. "Are you deaf? I said stop saying that!" he bellowed, his voice laced with desperation.

He staggered back, jabbing his index finger toward Augustine’s face, his whole body trembling with unspoken emotions.

Augustine swallowed hard. "So Pookie, tell ." Augustine began, moisting his lips for a second before continuing his phrase. "Tell you love ." Augustine requested.

Charles scoffed. "I love you." He spat.

Augustine’s eyes widened in shock, completely taken aback by Charles’s words. He hadn’t expected him to comply so easily.

Augustine’s heartbeat quickened, a mix of excitent and disbelief washing over him.

A slow, amused smile spread across his lips as he rushed forward, gripping Charles’s shoulders tightly. "Di... did you an it?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper, desperate to confirm if Charles’s words were truly sincere.

Scoffed.

"Did I an it?" Charles hissed, his voice laced with seething rage. "You’re the one who told to say it, so how the hell could you think I actually ant it? I don’t love you, Augustine, and I never will. Not now, not ever—not even in my damn dreams!"

Augustine scoffed, taking a step back as he let his hands slide down from Charles’s shoulder. ’Just as I expected,’ he mused to himself before swallowing a mouthful of saliva.

"I... I am tired of going back and forth with my words," Augustine murmured, his voice laced with exhaustion. "So I’ll ask just one question. Answer honestly, and I swear—I won’t bother you again."

Charles crossed his arms, his expression unreadable.

With a slow nod, he gestured for Augustine to continue. "Go ahead. Ask."

Augustine took a deep breath, steadying himself before finally voicing the question that had been weighing on his heart. "Why are you so afraid of being loved?"

The words were simple, yet they struck Charles like a bolt of lightning.

His body tensed, his breath hitched, and for a full minute, Charles stood frozen—silent, unmoving, as if the very air around him had turned to stone.

"Charles?" Augustine called out and Charles imdiately snapped out of his thoughts.

"Why are you afraid of being loved?" Augustine repeated his previous question. "Besides, I truly love you, Charles. I love you." Augustine sincerely uttered as he held his breath while waiting for Charles’s response.

Charles let out a shaky sigh, swiping the back of his hand across his damp cheeks.

His gaze flickered toward Augustine, a storm of emotions raging behind his eyes.

"You want to know why I’m afraid of being loved?" he muttered, his voice laced with exhaustion. "Because love isn’t real. It’s just a pretty lie people tell themselves before they end up hurt."

"Charles, I love you and I won’t hurt you." Augustine sincerely uttered.

Charles scoffed.

"I hate hearing those words—’I love you.’ So don’t say them. Just don’t," Charles pleaded, his voice trembling as fresh tears stread down his face.

"If you keep saying those words, I’ll start to believe you. We’ll say all these cute things to each other, and I’ll... I’ll go to bed smiling every night. We’ll have those silly ’I love you more’ fights."

His breath hitched as he took a shaky step back. "And then one day, you’ll wake up and decide you don’t love anymore. Just like that. And you’ll take it all back—every word, every promise—like it ant nothing."

His entire body trembled as he spoke, the weight of his own fears crushing him.

"But Charles I won’t..."

"Don’t tell you won’t grow out of love for , Augustine. You will, just like the rest."

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