He moved it back.

He moved it again, this time to the small table beside the bookshelf. Then he stopped, staring at the couch. His eyes narrowed.

He crossed the room, picked up a throw pillow, frowned at it, and tossed it onto the other end of the couch.

Clint looked up from his magazine. Steve slowly lifted his head from his book. Natasha's eyes slid toward Bruce, who had paused with his coffee halfway to his lips.

Tony didn't even look at him. He adjusted the orchid again, tilting the pot a fraction to the left.

The room went silent.

Tony blinked, finally looking up. He looked around at the five faces turned toward him.

Tony paused, brow furrowing.

Tony looked genuinely puzzled.

Tony glanced at her.

For a moment, something in Tony's face shifted. The manic energy dimmed, just slightly. His shoulders dropped a fraction.

And then, just as quickly, it was gone. He straightened, checking his watch, then his phone.