Dylan and Ava sprang apart. Ava's cheeks burned a deep crimson, and she jumped to her feet, nervously smoothing her clothes.
"What is it, Justin?" Dylan hissed, displeased. "Is it that urgent you couldn't wait for permission?"
"N-no, sir…" Justin stammered, holding out a bag. "I just…brought the fresh clothes for Madam." He risked a quick glance at her but immediately dropped his eyes to the floor.
Dylan snatched the bag and handed it to Ava, who snatched it from him and threw him a glare that could pierce through armor before storming toward the bathroom. Dylan watched her retreat with amused eyes, his lips curling into a smile. That smile was bright and could melt the heart of steel.
Justin watched him with a mix of awe and confusion, his mouth agape. He hadn't seen him smile like this for ages. It seemed that the brooding, cold Dylan had softened uncharacteristically.
"You actually look good when you smile," he ventured cautiously. "You should smile more often."
