Whatever reason she isn't eating--nerves, vanity, protest--it isn't doing her any favors upstairs. Jude's squint isn't very different from the usual, but there's assessment with the concern, easily mistaken for annoyance.

He doesn't know what a hipster is any more than he knows about Isabelle's tattoos or Credence being a smoke monster. Far as he knows, all three are related and when she really loses it, Sam is going to vanish in a puff of blue smoke.

He's not going to let that kind of thing rattle him either.

"You need to eat," he decides succinctly, back on his original tracks. Setting off for the inn, he holds the door open for her with his back taking its weight.