#augustine speaks

        There were things Augustine would never do and then there were things Augustine would “never” do. Washing the dishes while his wife and mama gabbed on the terrace fell into the latter category. His father would’ve commented on how it was maid’s work, but Augustine simply didn’t care. When mama was around, it was all about showing her how self-sufficient and grown up the little boy she raised could be. He did this work with focus and a smile. Not even Charlotte’s sudden presence in the kitchen distracted when she came inside to refill hers and mama’s glasses, at least until she almost flitted away too quickly. Augustine didn’t want to frighten or jar her today, but he was more than pleased to see that red dress accented with white daisies he told her to wear, a subtle face of makeup that didn’t make her look whorish, an aura of sobriety that no longer required him to monitor her every move ... Charlotte was beautiful and he was a man who still had yet to experience her body, so it was no surprise that him pushing her up against the refrigerator before she could go back out to the terrace was a little forceful. 

        “---But dad has been riding me especially hard lately, more so than usual. I think he’s afraid this cancer is going to be the death of him, but the doctors keep telling us that the treatment is working and he’ll be fully recovered in a year ... I mean I want the company, but I don’t think right now is the best time---” Augustine stopped speaking when yet another retching sound echoed from the toilet. With a sigh, he waited until his wife was reduced to dry heaving before unceremoniously letting her bunched hair fall. “Well, this time was especially ... long, but thanks for listening about my day.” Everything about him read disinterest despite the situation, but could he be blamed? All she wanted to do since they got married was continue on as a socialite. Augustine had too many important things to worry about to try and stop her, so he let her live her life. “Honestly, this look is so unbecoming. Can’t even think about getting you pregnant because you’d probably kill the thing...” he muttered, getting up to wash his hands in the sink. That air of apathy around continued to thicken even as he looks at her hunched, pitiful form. At least when she was drunk, she was easy to deal with. “I hope you had fun tonight, sweetheart. As you can tell, my day was rather difficult. So...” He picked the glass off the vanity, shoved it in her hand, and squatted down to her level so he could speak directly into ear uncaring about her drunken state. “...I’m going to need you to pull yourself together. Your night might be done, but I’m going to need your body to finish out mine.”