Without warning, Charles closed the distance between himself and Augustine, grabbing Augustine's wrist and pulling it closer to his face.
Augustine froze in place, his heart pounding wildly in his chest as he struggled to guess what Charles was about to do.
'Is he going to bite me? Or… kiss my wrist?
Augustine's mind spiraled with a dozen unanswered questions, each more confusing than the last.
He couldn't make sense of Charles's actions—until he felt it.
Charles gently pressed Augustine's wrist against his face, rubbing it slowly across his damp cheek as though trying to soothe the fire burning inside him.
Augustine stood frozen.
The sleeve of Augustine's suit soaked up the tears and the snort on Charles's face.
Then, Charles leaned back, putting distance between them.
