Dustin's not sure what kind of reaction he was expecting, but compliance while staying directly at the edge of his personal bubble wasn't exactly on that list. It also does a fantastic job of making him uneasy. Dustin estimates that the guy is several heads taller than him and built like a tank, which makes the fact that he hasn't moved at all less of an annoyance and more of a not-so-subtly-implied threat, one that has the hair on the back of his neck bristling. He's got the whole room behind him and yet he still manages to feel like he's being trapped.

The sorting he was doing through the sparklers slows, then comes to a stop. Dustin continues stubbornly staring down into the bin like he's going to resume at any moment, but his eyes betray him, flickering anxiously between it and Wesker's hand slowly swiping across his phone.

"...You do know everyone's names and pictures are catalogued on arrival," he eventually offers, once the weight of the silence and anticipation becomes too much for him to tolerate. "Right?"