Tony was ready to hide the fabric again and refuse to turn it over and out of his control, only to stop with his mouth going dry and a painful clench in his chest that had him watching Wesker through his lashes with the dart of his tongue along his lip before he was urgently pushing that impulse back into its rusted knot. Maybe a little too aggressively then, he refused, "Is this going to take long?," letting his head loll to the side and giving and impatient drum of his fingers where he still held the table, not about to let Wesker think one fluke meant he was going to be obedient and start doing dog tricks.