He says something forgettable, maybe about the song playing or who just walked in, and she looks up. Normally she would blink first, smile politely, give the floor its little rescue glance. This time she stays there.

It is barely a second too long. Long enough for his sentence to trail off weirdly. Long enough for him to pick up his phone and pretend there was a notification.

If someone across the room noticed, they would call it eye contact. He knows better, or thinks he does, which is worse. She gave him nothing he can quote later. Just that pause.