He smooths a hand down the fabric covering his chest, face revealing his skepticism that his appearance could possibly warrant that sort of reaction. He's certain he looks like a boy in a dress; a sorry, platonically pathetic excuse for a girl, at best. Still, with a sigh, he turns neatly, pivoting on his heel before striding over to the various cubbies and drawers that seem to contain just about everything they could want.

And there, in the third drawer, is a rather large hand mirror.

"Oh fuck..." Yeah, that's appreciative. "Kan this looks like a million boondollars not evven goin' to try to lie to you."

She should probably take the mirror away before he starts primping and preening.