It had been pretty damn hard, ignoring his suffering.
Even more so when she remembered that his suffering wasn't self-inflicted, but something shoved onto him, something ultimately chosen for him because he'd been too quiet during the partner picking process. His mistake, she figured, but it was still really terrible watching the entire thing go down. Between the eye-rolling, the grumbled insults, and the fact that someone's hair had been caught on fire (she wasn't sure whose, though she was pretty sure it didn't matter), she had to intervene. It wasn't too hard, either; his partner had left (which confirmed that it was her hair that had been singed) and would probably not be back for a while, if at all, and she'd been the odd one out.
She wasn't exactly subtle, though, when she scooted over from her station to his, pointing on solemn finger at the fringes of his jacket and trying not to laugh. "I think she got your coat, too. A little." More than a little, really. There were ashes on the table and a good junk of sleeve outright missing. She almost wondered if he was ignoring it altogether, or if he'd noticed but was too mad to even say anything.
"I guess you drew the short straw in all of this, huh?" She attempted, unsuccessfully, to pick up where the other girl had left off, but everything was a disaster. There were eggshells in the mix itself, there were ashes in the icing, and things that shouldn't have been burned (shouldn't even have the capability to be burned) were scorched. It was ridiculously difficult not to wince, honestly. And she did, softly, though eventually she opted for a brighter approach instead, poking absently at something while trying to find a starting point in all the mess.
"...Looks like we'll have to start over, huh?"