It must be an illusion.
Julian Fairchild gazed intently at Maeve Lane.
Maeve was eating just fine when she felt a gaze as if it had substance falling upon her.
She lifted her head lazily, faced his gaze, and simply curled her lips into a smile.
Once again, that elusive feeling surfaced in the man's heart.
With his attitude like this, could Maeve still face him as always? Was it because of deep love... or just a game for her?
Julian subconsciously dismissed the second notion.
...
Maeve noticed that ever since that day they returned from Palova, Julian had started deliberately avoiding her.
Not exactly avoiding, just... trying to not be in the same space.
Like when she waited for him in the cafeteria, only to meet Henry Hughes; when she went to his classroom, he chose to sit in the front row, not giving her even a glance.
At this moment, she just walked out of her dormitory. The weather today was a bit gloomy, much like Julian's face when he was angry.
