Returning his coat to the chair, Justin Battleson raises an eyebrow at the neatly tidied cleaning supplies, then sits down next to Charlotte Thompson with a hint of guilt, murmuring:
"Sorry, Charlotte, there was an urgent meeting at the company, and it ran long, so I couldn't make it back for lunch."
At his words, Charlotte's long eyelashes flutter slightly. She lowers her eyes and does not respond.
Without recognizing her odd behavior, Justin instinctively tries to wrap his arm around her petite waist, but to his surprise, Charlotte quietly moves a few steps away.
His hand clasping at empty air, Justin looks at her with mild surprise.
The latter has put some distance between them in an instant, her face devoid of any expression, her rosy lips drawn into a line, her downcast eyes concealing any discernible emotions.
Slightly taken aback, Justin opens his mouth, "Charlotte?"
He is answered by silence.