@eurosleaz continued from here
Sam stares momentarily, his face crossed between off-guard and processing. He makes a breathy sound. “You're not-?” He clears his throat. She doesn't take it back. “Seriously?”
He hadn't anticipated an entire breakdown. He'd thought, naively, that she'd say great because that's what everyone else says, or, at worst, fix your hair. Instead, she tossed comparisons to a car salesman. She said he's not her type.
“...Don't go pulling your punches,” he whinges, turning back around to the mirror. Type. He gestures uselessly, like she thought he'd ask her out. Take her to dinner. He straightens an already straight tie. “And for the record, I'm 'to die for',” he quotes.
He looks at himself harder, Sadie's reflection smaller behind him.
He doesn't see it, and his cheek pinches.