In the Office, Jonas maintained his original posture, looking at Yushua before him with a calm expression.
"Yushua, what is it?"
He did his best to keep up appearances, but out of Yushua's sight, his legs trembled slightly. Before he knew it, Nightingale had returned to her most familiar position.
Slowly, her concealed figure began to emerge beneath the desk. When she looked up at Jonas, a mischievous smile appeared on her face.
The moment Jonas saw that smile, he knew what she intended to do.
"I'm sorry, Mr. Jonas. I think I smelled something strange."
Yushua's delicate nose twitched, but the smell vanished immediately, leaving her wondering whether she had imagined it.
"Eiffel must have accidentally spilled some coffee on the desk earlier. I'll have someone clean it up later."
Jonas spoke without his expression changing, though he couldn't shake the feeling that those words sounded familiar, as if he had said them before.
Lowering his head slightly, he caught sight of Nightingale's smiling eyes again. Then she lowered her head once more.
She was brimming with mischief.
She had originally decided to pass on the leftovers and come back to conquer Jonas next time, when he was at full strength. But someone had walked in just then, and she had instinctively slipped beneath the desk.
How should she put it...
Sometimes, mood was a curious thing, and so was setting. Once the two came together and the atmosphere was right, they could inspire irrational thoughts.
Take leftovers and a lavish banquet, for example. Any normal person would choose the latter, or at least an ordinary, freshly cooked dinner.
But with the right atmosphere, things were different. Even leftovers could become a feast for Nightingale-provided, of course, that there was a third person in the room.
What a shame