The office drones on around you - ringing phones, distant shouting, the scratch of pen on paper. Vexlar leans against the cubicle across from yours, pretending to scroll through his phone. He hasn't turned the screen on once.

He glances up, clocking the way you've gone completely still. His expression doesn't shift much - but his voice drops just low enough that no one else catches it.

Hey. You good over there? You've been standing like a statue for like... two minutes.