Francis' offer to help him confused Dietre somewhat. He was under the impression that the man really didn't want him around, so why would he say was willing to help? Maybe under that blunt, uncaring facade he was really kind hearted. That still made Dietre feel bad, to be so pitied, but he'd take it. He hated to be pitied, but he needed...something, anything, that was how desperate he'd become.
He didn't want to say that it wasn't his power that he was afraid of, but his mind. Even if he gained control over his powers, there was a very big chance he'd still see things, they just wouldn't be able to physically attack him anymore. And so it wouldn't be much different than how it was before he could project them so other people could see.
"Thank you, then..." Dietre took the knife and turned back to the counter to begin peeling the pumpkin. "...That means a lot." That little add on sounded awkward to his ears, and he sort of wished he hadn't said it after all, even though he felt like his simple thank you wasn't enough. What did 'that means a lot' even mean? He felt himself turning red, and so he didn't wait for a response, but started in on peeling, pretending he hadn't said anything at all.