He hates this feeling. What bothers him the most about it is that he doesn't even know what this feeling is. He just knows it exists. So he deals with it, tries to handle it, but it doesn't always work.
She always seems to know when something's wrong. Even when he's said nothing, even when he's staring down at paperwork, trying to concentrate, but knowing he won't be able to, because of something they've seen that day. He knows she hates it when he does this, when he pretends that nothing's bothering him, but he can't help it.
After all, it's this defense mechanism that has gotten him through most of his life. That aloof, seemingly cold demeanor that he gives off when something's really gotten to him. He looks up when he doesn't hear her pen on her own paperwork, only to find that she's watching him.
Her eyes tell him everything. She wants to be the one to make whatever it is that he's feeling go away. It's more than likely that she will be the one. But right now, they're in the squad room, and if he lets this façade drop, he'll break down in front of everyone, and that's the last thing he wants.
He looks away from her, finally, deliberately ignoring the look on her face, the expression torn between frustration and something that he can't quite place. It hurts him to know that he's bothering her like this. But he's never really felt all too comfortable displaying his emotions for everyone to see.
So he keeps it up, this façade, the one that says he's perfectly at ease with the world around him. The one that says he doesn't want to talk about it, at least, not at the present moment. The one that annoys her to no end, but the same one that she understands the reasons behind. After a while, she looks away as well.
And when she does, he looks back at her, relieved. The walls are still up, at least for now. But he knows that once they're out of the squad room, once they're alone, she'll get them to fall…something that only she has ever been able to do.
