The feeling was mutual and John was one hundred percent sure that he could not do such a thing. His gaze quickly flickered from the books, to her, to the books, back to her. The wheels in his head were spinning. This was odd, more than odd—but he was never one to back down from a puzzle.
"Hang on.." He wrapped his fingers around her wrists, lifting her arms up slowly and monitoring the books for motion—nothing. So it wasn't connection to the motion of her arms. "No, not that. Hm." He rubbed a hand over his face, thinking, thinking, thinking.
"Jean." He clapped as he said her name. "What were you just doing, thinking about?"