"No, no, you're just in time. I don't really like this food anyway. Let me see what delicious treat you've brought for me." Dexter eagerly took the lunchbox from my hands.
I noticed Scarlett's expression visibly darken when he mentioned he didn't like the food on the table. The corners of my lips curled into a smirk.
"What are you standing there for?" Dexter frowned and shot Scarlett a pointed look, signaling for her to clear the table.
"Oh, oh!" Scarlett snapped out of her daze and began tidying up in a fluster. In her haste, she accidentally knocked over a dish, spilling thick soup onto Dexter's leg, near the top of his thigh.
Without thinking, Scarlett grabbed a napkin and began wiping it off. Her actions were natural and practiced.
"What are you doing?" Dexter's expression darkened and he abruptly shoved her away.
Caught off guard, Scarlett stumbled to the floor. She looked as though she wanted to protest but froze when she met Dexter's warning gaze. It was only then that she remembered I was still in the room.