Chapter 123: The sky is your limit.
Both Augustine and Derrick instantly turned their gazes toward Charles.
He stood at the foot of the staircase, dressed in a loose-fitting green T-shirt layered over a black shirt.
His posture was relaxed, but the nervous smile on his lips betrayed his unease.
His eyes flickered between the two men, waiting for an answer.
Augustine and Derrick hadn’t noticed Charles descending the stairs, so his sudden question caught them off guard.
Augustine’s lips parted slightly, but no words came out.
Derrick, on the other hand, smirked, folding his arms across his chest.
"Why do you two look so stunned by my question?" Charles pressed, closing the distance between them, his sharp gaze flickering between their faces.
Despite Charles’s question, neither Augustine nor Derrick responded.
They simply stared at him, their baffled expressions unwavering.
With a sigh, Charles stopped in front of the couch where Augustine sat, his arms crossed.
He arched a brow. "Hey," he purred, his voice laced with curiosity.
Charles narrowed his eyes, clearly noticing Augustine’s attempt to change the subject. He let the silence stretch for a moment before exhaling sharply.
Augustine swallowed hard, fluttering his eyelashes a few times before taking a deep, long breath. "Umm... why don’t we have breakfast?" he probed, rising from his seat. "Derrick bought takeout for us," he added.
Charles frowned but didn’t say anything.
Instead, Charles simply nodded and turned on his heel, heading toward the dining area without another word.
Derrick narrowed his eyes at Augustine, pressing his lips into a thin line before leaning in slightly. "You didn’t tell him, did you?" he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper, laced with amusement and something else—curiosity.
Augustine scoffed, smacking Derrick’s shoulder. "Did you really have to say that? You’re the reason I didn’t tell him," he muttered, shooting Derrick a sharp glare.
Derrick merely smirked, unfazed by Augustine’s irritation.
Their silent battle continued, their eyes locking in a cold exchange as they made their way to the dining area.
Upon arrival, both men pulled out separate chairs and sat down, the tension between them lingering like an unspoken challenge.
Meanwhile, Charles had already opened a takeout container filled with pancakes.
Without hesitation, he reached for another one, popping the lid open to reveal a neatly arranged fruit salad.
"I’ll eat this," he mumbled, his tone indifferent as he avoided making eye contact with either Derrick or Augustine.
Rising from his seat, he strode over to the kitchen counter, grabbed a fork and spoon, then returned to his chair, settling in as if the tension in the room didn’t exist.
Charles began to eat in total silence as Augustine watched him with a sigh.
"Pookie, Derrick and I never dated," Augustine suddenly blurted out, feeling the weight of the tension pressing down on him.
He needed to clear the air before it got any worse.
Charles let out a sharp scoff, stabbing a piece of fruit with his fork. "I don’t need to know about your history," he retorted, his voice laced with indifference.
Derrick swallowed hard. "Umm... Augustine, remember when I said I needed to get going? Yeah... I think now is the perfect time for that," he mumbled, quickly rising to his feet.
Without waiting for a response, Derrick turned on his heels and made a beeline for the exit door, eager to escape the thick tension lingering in the air.
"Yo... you always cause me so much trouble," Augustine snarled, jabbing his index finger in Derrick’s direction, trying to call him back.
But Derrick, unfazed, quickened his steps, practically bolting out of the mansion.
He didn’t even bother grabbing the takeout bag still sitting on the kitchen island.
Exhaling!
Now that they were alone, Augustine rose from his seat and made his way to Charles, his footsteps slow and deliberate.
He rested his hands on Charles’s shoulders, his fingers lightly tracing over the fabric of his shirt.
Leaning in, Augustine pressed a lingering kiss to Charles’s golden hair, inhaling his scent before whispering, "You’re impossible, you know that?"
Without waiting for a response, Augustine pulled away just enough to watch the way Charles’s shoulders tensed ever so slightly—his silent reaction speaking louder than words.
"I need to go and freshen up, Pookie," Augustine purred, his voice light as he straightened up.
Deep down, the urge to explain himself gnawed at him—he wanted Charles to know that he had never dated Derrick but he held back, deciding to give it a few minutes.
Instead, Augustine turned on his heels and walked away, leaving Charles alone with his thoughts.
’Besides, I don’t want to start a misunderstanding between Charles and me,’ Augustine thought to himself.
Upon reaching the bedroom, Augustine made his way straight to the bathroom, letting the warm water wash away his lingering thoughts.
After his bath, he stepped out, a towel wrapped around his waist, and moved towards his wardrobe.
Without hesitation, he picked out a crisp white dress shirt, buttoning it up before slipping into a tailored black suit and matching trousers.
Augustine adjust the collar of his shirt as his lips curved into a smile because he exude an air of quiet sophistication.
Augustine applied some ointment on his hair as he ran a hand through his freshly styled hair, the faint scent of his ointment lingering in the air.
Grabbing his briefcase, he strode out of the bedroom, his polished shoes tapping lightly against the floor.
Descending the stairs, Augustine’s gaze instinctively drifted toward the kitchen.
There, standing by the sink, was Charles—his head slightly bowed, hands cupping the cool water as he splashed it onto his face.
Augustine’s steps slowed, his grip tightening around the handle of his briefcase.
Something about the sight of Charles, so unaware yet so captivating, made his chest tighten.
Augustine set down his briefcase above the kitchen island table as he walked over to Charles and wrapped his hands around Charles’s waist from behind.
"I... I’m not in the mood to entertain you," Charles snapped, shutting off the tap with a sharp twist.
He pulled his medicated glasses down from where they rested on his head, settling them firmly on the bridge of his nose.
Charles hands moved to Augustine’s, attempting to pry himself free from the firm grip holding him in place.
"Pookie, I... I have a long day ahead of me," Augustine murmured, his voice warm and laced with affection. "Can’t you just stay still while I take in your scent?"
Charles slowly turned around, his movements deliberate.
Augustine’s hands remained firmly wrapped around his waist, holding him close.
As their gazes met, Charles arched a brow, his expression unreadable.
Their faces were now mere inches apart, their breaths mingling in the quiet space between them.
For a few lingering seconds, neither spoke, allowing their eyes to do all the talking—searching, questioning, understanding.
Finally, Charles broke the silence. "Tomorrow is the company’s launch event."
Augustine gave a brief nod.
"How are things going?" Charles asked, his tone measured, but there was a flicker of curiosity in his gaze.
As much as Charles lacked the energy to entertain Augustine, he knew that showing concern for the event would help ease some of Augustine’s nerves.
Besides, from the way Augustine had kissed his hair earlier—soft yet lingering—Charles could sense the nervousness hidden beneath his usual confidence.
"The designs are ready, but the models are suddenly pulling out," Augustine explained, his voice laced with frustration. "Without them, there’s no way our fashion line can be showcased at the event."
Sighing, he loosened his grip around Charles’s waist but didn’t let go completely.
Instead, he gently took Charles’s fingers in his own, a nervous smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "I just hope things go as planned," Augustine murmured, his gaze dropping to the floor for a brief moment before lifting back to meet Charles’s eyes.
Without hesitation, Charles gently pulled his fingers free from Augustine’s grasp and cupped his cheeks, his touch both firm and comforting.
"Right now, Augustine," Charles began, his tone firm yet gentle. "I should be minding my own business because giving you emotional support wasn’t part of the deal when I agreed to this relationship. But still..."
He paused, his thumbs brushing lightly against Augustine’s cheeks. "I can’t ignore the fact that you’re hardworking, caring, and completely dedicated."
Charles gently caressed Augustine’s chin before continuing, his voice soft yet reassuring. "You don’t have to be scared of anything, okay?"
Augustine gave a brief nod.
"The sky is your limit, Augustine," Charles continued, his gaze steady. "You’re going to do just fine. Besides, you’ve launched successful designs before, and this one won’t be any different. It won’t go wrong—it never will."
Charles’s warm words sent a wave of relief through Augustine, and before he could even process the emotions swelling in his chest, a slow, genuine smile crept onto his lips.
Without hesitation, Augustine closed the small distance between them, cupping Charles’s face as he leaned in, capturing his lips in a deep, lingering kiss.
It wasn’t rushed or desperate—it was a kiss filled with silent gratitude, unspoken emotions, and the reassurance he didn’t know he needed.
The kiss lasted only a fleeting moment before Augustine slowly pulled away. "Thanks," he murmured, his gaze locked onto Charles.
Then, as if needing to set the record straight, he added, "And just for the record, Derrick and I were never a thing."
His words barely settled before Charles burst into laughter, the sound rich and unrestrained.