The feeling of eyes on him goes away with the huff and stays away, so he unfolds his hands and runs them along the tops of his thighs instead. Like he's wiping his palms off even though there's nothing to wipe off - old habit that only comes around when he's very distracted, or else, very nervous.

It seems stupid to ask, but he does anyway, voice as flat as he's feeling.

"Why's that."

Still not looking over even if it'd be easier to get an answer that way.