Largely, Sam's distraction from the stinging that his lack of trust in Frodo causes is thinking. Trying to construct excuses when he has none. He can't bring himself to trust many of the other arrivals in Goldvale at all, comprised either of unfamiliar strangers or people he had long known dead. Aragorn was the only person who hadn't yet confused him, and Sam had the distinct feeling that that was only because he hadn't really compared their respective passages of time. Rarely does he find himself leaving the safety of his large bunk to do much else aside from practicing, eating and washing.

So Frodo's question catches him slightly off-guard. He doesn't find himself entirely sure how to answer - largely because he isn't sure how he thinks of the situation. Doubtless he is upset, but he isn't sure he can say he's upset with Frodo... nor does he want to find cause to. He looks to Frodo, face stern for just a second.

With a firm exhale, his expression softens.

"... not upset." He shifted quietly, awkwardly, as he looked to the apple in his hand. "Not at you, leastwise."