Maaaayybe a hint of colour might show in his pale cheeks, at the way she sang those lines, showing more keenly than on most people, given the near lack of melanin in his complexion. As the keyboardist and the guitarist play through the instrumental bridge, he might drop his gaze almost modestly, before looking up, finding her face and a shy smirk crossing his lean face.

The time is right, your perfume fills my head, the stars get red and, oh, the night's so blue
And then I go and spoil it all by sayin' something stupid like "I love you"

There's the temptation to lean in and brush the side of her head with his temple, but while he might lean closer, he'll stop himself from such a tender gesture.