Ugh, now she feels bad for her snide comment, fidgeting as he helps the customer. Once they're gone, she shifts a bit closer, if only to help herself to some tea, holding the cup carefully between her hands.

"Mmm, sounds like you love it." She can see right through him, even with the jumble of false memories tumbling around in her head not giving her the appropriate context for why she knows he is slowing going mad. She reaches out with one surprisingly warm hand, thanks to the tea, and squeezes his forearm gently. Solidarity or something, comfort she doesn't really know how to give.