She tenses slightly when he touches her hair, then melts, a smile touching her lips. Stella. She can be Stella, perhaps, and the fantasy could happen. He paints such a picture of her, the opposite of how she sees herself, and it's beautiful.

She speaks carefully, trying not to sound too judgmental. "Did you say the same thing about my cousin's hair? It's almost the same color."

It's not a gotcha moment. She's testing, finding the holes in his picture so she can judge whether she's allowed to be pleased, or if his words are simply those spoken to everyone he tries to bed. If she's going to be charmed, it ought to at least be done uniquely.