The stern look - coupled with the use of his name - freezes Bruce in place for a moment, his body tensing, caught between uncertainty on what Tony would do next - or worse, what Bruce thought Tony might do. In his experiences a look like that never bodes well for him; usually what he got next was a threat to leave, a warning to stop being around - or worse.

It's a bit of an accomplishment that Bruce manages to look Tony back in the eye through the whole thing even as the other man leans over, because really all that he wants to do is to cringe away and retreat back into his shell. Confrontations of any sort is not something that Bruce is fond of - its uncomfortable and its too close to danger and Bruce just doesn't want to take chances with anything he can actively avoid.

He can feel his skin crawling, and every part of him simply wants to bolt out of the couch but Tony is blocking his way and Bruce doesn't exactly want to fight it out with him. He curls his hands into the couch, trying to steady himself as much as he can even though he can feel his heartrate paicking up from his nervousness.

"It's not the walls I'm worried about," he eventually manages, voice still quiet. Still small. Still trying not to be heard, somehow.