It's fiiiiine! He's just stuck in a little post-death loop of unhappiness, and needed to do something with his hands. He's fiiiine.

Okay but sarcasm aside, he genuinely is more fine than he was a few seconds ago before the door opened. Crichton thought to get him something? That's actually really touching??

"Matching, eh?" Something about the idea brings a slow grin to Arthur's face. His energy's in the pits, so he doesn't spring off the sofa as he would've in his first week here, but he holds out a hand for the glasses. "You'll have to tell me how we look in them, so I can admire us properly."