He doesn't move yet, holding himself tense so he doesn't shake, at the-- it almost feels like audacity, because it's the easiest emotion to skim off the top of the rest broiling just beneath his skin.

"Why would she- why the fuck would anyone need to know that?"

A part of him knows, objectively, that there's probably any number of actual reasons, but he's off-balance, defensive and trying not to let his fury overtake him at the-- "What the fuck kind of question is that?!"