He swallows dry. I can tell by the look in his eyes that I’ve mostly convinced him. But there’s something else in his gaze, as well. Something small, something I can’t quite identify. A moment passes, and I can tell right away that he found some hole in my story by the small eye-widening of realization, followed by the convinced look falling away, replaced by doubt and a hint of hurt. But in the very next moment, all of that vanishes and he goes back to convinced. Only this time, the look is... off.