[He's curious enough on topic of what crass phrases Cy might know—since the other options are so dismally terrible—but the question steers him from its pursuit.

It forces him to turn inward, analyzing why he has such difficulty at the idea. The mirror, his own face reflected back, exposing such a side of him to his own sight. He feels a full-body shiver of discomfort simply for the imagining.]

... I don't know for sure. Of course, the vulnerability. It's one thing to feel it, but when I see it — my reaction is negative. I don't want it to be there, because there's some part of me that will feel the need to rip it out. Cover it up. It's a visceral, physical sensation. Showing a side like that to anyone is dangerous. Someone could [a struggling pause] hurt me with it. So when I look at my own face, I don't feel safe.

The other reason is my eyes. [Wait for it.] They were my brother's.