In other words, she's attractive in exactly the sort of way that, not so long ago, would have reeled in Cassidy's interest. Oh, it's not that he doesn't notice, but the heavy-lidded look he gives her is cursory more than anyone else. It's quickly followed by a glance down at his shirt, and a frown. As if he hadn't noticed.

He even brushes at the dried blood a bit with his fingers. Like trying to flick off a bit of dirt.

"Oh well," he says with a sigh and a shrug. "It's not mine, anyway."

Whether he means the shirt, or the blood, he'll leave to her to decide.