Despite the strong urge to reach out for her, the chance that it would do more harm than good was simply too great to risk so Remus resisted and retracted his fingers when she took the cup. Only then did he grab for his trousers. He did make an attempt to put them on, but that attempt proved too be far too much movement when he felt like a tonne of bricks, so instead he draped the material over his lap. It was good enough.
After that he could hear her situating herself and he turned his focus to the window in the kitchen. If he could have willed those trees to the ground in that moment, it would have been done with how darkly he took them in, his jaw tight and upper lip quivering through the coursing anger he couldn't keep off of his features. And then he heard the 'thanks', forcing a pained little laugh to erupt as his features twisted under dark thoughts. After what they had been put through, how he was being used to hurt her, and she was thanking him for anything. Sure, he was technically being hurt as well, but to him that wasn't the same and no court would see that it was. He was as horrified as he was disgusted, that familiar feeling of being a monster easily slipping in and taking over.
"Do you need more?" he finally managed to ask without turning back, his voice shaking under the stress. How telling that he not only provided her a cup of straight vodka as if that was normal, but that he'd assumed she was already done with it.