Autor has no idea how to respond to that. He fiddles with the apricot and considers eating it, but then codes it away in his sylladex to give himself time to think.

"Oh," he says, and then kicks himself. Is that all I can come up with? Really? "I- I see. I'm sorry you had to see that, then." He wonders how she knew he was bothered, but chalks that up to his always being more expressive than he thinks he is. "For the record, I don't like it when things bother you, either."