Gaby had, of course, noticed the shift in Illya's behavior. After giving him several opportunities to out with whatever was obviously troubling him that went untaken, she resigned herself to pressing him when they returned to the privacy of his room after dinner.
The expectant look was accompanied by a rather combative pose, arms crossed over her chest. His noticeable apprehension was contagious, and the resulting anxiety had made her angry. Anger was an easier emotion to navigate, to control, than worry, and so as she so often did, she let the stronger emotion win out over the unsettling one. "I'll stand, thank you." A pause, while she stared at him with eyes that likely betrayed the confidence she was trying so hard to convey. "Out with it."