Chapter 43: Anne’s weird behavior

Words : 1074 Updated : Sep 12th, 2025

Chapter 43: Anne’s weird behavior Anne shoved a piece of toast into her mouth to avoid answering. "You’re acting weird," he remarked, worry filling his eyes. "Are you sure nothing is wrong?" ’Yes, something is wrong. I dreamed about you... touching me, kissing me—making love to me.’ The thought alone made her cheeks burn hotter. But she could never admit that. Not in a million years. She picked up her glass of juice and took a long sip, hoping he wouldn’t notice the way her hands trembled slightly. Augustine couldn’t shake the feeling that something wasn’t right with her, that something was disturbing her. "Whatever it is that’s bothering you, you can tell me." His voice softened. "I mean it, Anne. If something is wrong, just say it." Anne nearly choked on her drink. ’Tell you! Not in this lifetime.’ Slamming the glass down a little too forcefully, she shot to her feet, her chair scraping against the floor. "I’m done." Before he could press further, she spun on her heel and bolted, her heart pounding. As Augustine watched Anne retreat, a flicker of disappointment settled in his chest. He had deliberately worn the shirt and tie she had picked out for him, hoping—expecting—her to say something. Maybe a small compliment, or at least a glance of approval. But she had barely looked at him. And now, she was slipping away as if he weren’t even there. "Anne," he called out before she could disappear. She froze mid-step, her back stiffening, but she didn’t turn around. "Does the shirt look good on me?" Her eyes widened at the question. ’He wore the shirt?’ Slowly, almost hesitantly, she turned to face him. The moment her gaze landed on him, her heart gave an unexpected lurch. There he stood—tall, confident, effortlessly striking. The royal blue fabric draped over his broad shoulders, fitting him so perfectly it almost seemed tailored just for him. The crisp tie accentuated his lean, sculpted frame, adding an air of sharp refinement. And then, there were his dark eyes—piercing and intense—the color seeming even more vivid against the deep blue of his shirt. Her gaze lingered, drinking in the sight of him. There was something almost youthful in this shade of blue, a vibrance that softened his usual composed demeanor, making him seem younger. For a moment, Anne forgot to breathe. She simply stared, unable to tear her gaze away. Heat surged to her cheeks. ’Stop staring!’ her mind screamed, but her body refused to obey. It wasn’t as if she was seeing him for the first time, yet somehow, in this moment, he felt different—new. As if she were truly seeing him for the first time. Augustine raised an eyebrow, confused and nervous at the same time. "What? Is it not good on me?" Anne blinked, realizing she had been silent for far too long. Her throat felt dry as she scrambled for words. "It... it suits you," she mumbled, barely above a whisper. His confusion deepened. "That’s all?" Anne’s pulse quickened. ’What else am I supposed to say? That you look ridiculously handsome? That I can’t look at you without remembering my dream?’ She clenched her fists, feeling trapped under his scrutinizing gaze. Desperate to escape, she turned on her heels. "I have to go," she muttered, hurrying toward the stairs. Augustine watched her retreat, his expression falling. He didn’t understand what was going on in her mind, but something was off. She was acting different—distant, uneasy. And it unsettled him. He wanted to reach out, to break whatever invisible barrier was pushing her away. "Anne." She stopped. "Are you forgetting something?" Anne’s mind raced. Then it hit her. Augustine had a job interview today. The realization sent a wave of guilt washing over her. She had been so caught up in her own embarrassment that she had almost left without acknowledging something so crucial to him. ’Shit,’ she cursed internally. ’How could I forget?’ Taking a steady breath, Anne forced herself to move, each step toward him sending a fresh wave of nervous energy through her. The closer she got, the harder it became to breathe, as if the very air between them was thick with something unspoken. When she finally stopped in front of him, she dared to look into his eyes. The moment their gazes locked, her stomach tightened, an unsteady flutter rising within her. Her fingers twitched slightly at her sides. For a fleeting second, she forgot why she had even approached him. ’Focus,’ she scolded herself, swallowing her nerves. Reaching out, she grasped the end of his tie, adjusting the knot with deliberate care. Her hands brushed against the fabric, but all she felt was the heat radiating from his body. A faint tremor ran through her hands, but she continued, forcing herself to concentrate on the task. "Good luck with your interview," she murmured. The words had barely left her lips before Augustine moved. His arms wrapped around her in one swift motion, pulling her against his solid chest. Anne gasped, her body going rigid. Heat rushed through her, a tingling sensation spreading across her skin at the sudden closeness. She could feel his warmth seeping into her, his steady heartbeat beneath her palm. His scent enveloped her senses, making her head spin. And then, the memories of that dream came crashing back. She could still feel it—the phantom sensation of his lips on hers, the way he had claimed her, made her surrender to him completely. No matter how much she wanted to forget, it came rushing in—vivid, overwhelming, impossible to ignore. It had felt real. Too real. Her breath hitched as a deep, unfamiliar ache stirred within her. His arms were firm yet gentle, like they belonged there—like she belonged there. Their faces were close. Too close. Her lips parted slightly, but no words came out. All she could do was stand there, trapped in his warmth, staring at him. Anne’s heart pounded. She needed to step away, to break free from the overwhelming heat of his embrace. But her body betrayed her, refusing to listen to reason. A deep flush spread across Anne’s cheeks, creeping down her neck like wildfire. Augustine, on the other hand, remained still, his gaze steady and unreadable. But he was watching her, studying her. Something was off. "Are you sure you are okay?" he asked with concern.

Chapter 43: Anne’s weird behavior

Comments (0)