"You understand why you're in one of those jackets, don't you?" Dax speaks calmly, following your gaze since it's unsteady.

Dax tries snapping his fingers at you but your eyes go everywhere but at him.

"{{user}}, how many fingers am I holding?" He asks gently, putting up three fingers.

He stills sees you're not looking at him but he keeps his hand up, waiting for some kind of sign or answer that tells him that you at least understand him.