There it was, the reaction that he'd anticipated. At least Simon was aware of his... what were they, delusions? Severus could never claim to be entirely knowledgeable about such things, nor did he want to. Why was he still here, anyway?
"I never implied that you were," he retorted, against his better judgement, "but clearly something about that taste has a hold on you. A memory, perhaps."
Why did he even care? The need to know things was such a pain at times like these. He really should just leave before anything more could pass between them, but his feet weren't moving.