Why can't I do the 'eye thing'?

"You know, it's not even that I'm hungry. I just eat sometimes because it's there."
"Mmm?" Amara nodded. Her elbow was propped up on the table with her head resting in her hand while her other hand drummed impatiently on the flowery tablecloth. She was almost quite literally bored to tears.
"Yes, it's concerning," Adrian went on, staring off at some gardenia bush or hibiscus hedge. "But it's also the blues, are you getting me?" he turned then and looked sharply into Amara's vacant, expressionless eyes.
"Yes," Amara slurred with tiring effort, "I most definitely..."
"It's the cakes!" Adrian went on. "Green and yellow! Pink! You've never seen the pinks!"
"Adrian," said Amara, "when will you be pouring the tea? Or am I to sit here without ingesting anything whatsoever?"
"Tea!?" Adrian cried (rather ferociously and far too dramatically, Amara felt).
"This is a tea party, yes?" she turned her gaze to the long, rectangular table set up with platters of cakes and scones, tea pots and cups, jars of jams and cream and chocolate and sugar, and bowls upon bowls of berries. So many berries that Amara was suspicious of what Adrian actually did for a living. "Frivolous in the events of the now!" Adrian spurted, much like how a waterfall spurts water: wet and with haste.
"What?"
"Oh- oh, no, I don't quite believe it..." Adrian stood up, staring off yet again, and Amara thought, finally, I can take one of these hard and lumpy-looking scones, but Adrian said, "Get up! Get up now and follow me!"
"Excuse me?"
"Get up!" Adrian grabbed her elbow.
"Oi!" Amara yanked her arm back, "What's the hurry?" She craned her neck around to see what had Adrian's knickers in a twist, but he grabbed her upper arm this time and hauled her up with a grunt.
"What! Ad-"
"There's no time!" he called. And they were somehow running. He had her arm and was pulling her along, away from the table with yummy delights, down the side of his large house, and through a ten-foot hedge.
"Adrian!" Amara yelled. "Stop!"  She was regretting ever agreeing to attend this silly tea party, and while the branches in the hedge scratched at her face and arms and pulled at her hair and dress, she had a sudden thought that this fellow might be on the run from someone official. Could he be a thief? Was he the sort to steal a car? She considered his bland nature and obsession with colourful food. Surely someone who spent hours in a sweltering kitchen baking chocolate swirl cake twice, because he'd had the oven on full-blast the first time, couldn't be interested in such criminal activities. Cake and burglary?
"Adrian!"
They burst out of the hedge onto a large oval. There was a park up ahead and a long winding river behind it.
"Oh! What a waste," he dropped her arm and scowled at the children playing on the swings.
Amara stretched her arm, also scowling. "What a horrid ride," she remarked in a savage voice, "all that running and not a bite to eat before it."
"Yes..." Adrian shook his head, brushed off his white and blue vest, and looked over at her. "Better luck next time, then."
"Next time!" Amara shrieked. "You nearly tore my arm off! You bored me half to death with  descriptions of yellow cake- yellow! What foolery is that!- and trifle in glasses as tall as me, while allowing me to touch nothing! I almost died of starvation- no! I almost died of boredom." she reveled in his crestfallen expression. His arms hanging limply by his sides reminded her of a defected doll, one that would be cast aside and forgotten, and she spurred on, "I would not dream of going anywhere with you ever again! My next acquaintance will be with an intellectual gentleman, in a library, where they will sell large coffees and lemon tarts as big as my hand, and we will talk of nothing but adventure and sailing above the clouds and climbing rainbows and mathematical equations!"
She straightened up and glared at this pale, floppy-haired, leaf-covered male who had just ruined her favourite dress.
"Oh," he said quietly, looking around at the grass, "Oh, I see." He slipped a hand into his pocket and pulled out a pocket watch, and Amara rolled her eyes.
"I'm lea-"
"I suppose the table was a little outlandish," Adrian said, eyeing the watch, "but as it's not mine, there's no-"
Amara frowned suspiciously, "What isn't yours?"
"The table," Adrian blinked at her, as if it was preposterous that she didn't know, "the house doesn't belong to me either. You weren't aware? It was all a game-"
"Not yours?"
"Just a silly game we play," he smiled, "sneaking into someone else's party. Terribly frightening. You could even say... adventurous."
Amara felt suddenly weak for no reason. "You break into strange people's houses?" she asked faintly.
"Mmm," he put his watch away.
"Wh- I, I think-, heavens." Amara fanned herself,  "Goodness, Adrian. Why on earth would you do such a thing?"
Adrian grinned, a sparkle in his eye that Amara had never noticed before, "Life isn't just for baking, you know!"