When he returned, Mabel straightened back up, lightly nudging the door of the microwave closed with the heel of her bloodied boot. Listening curiously to Mitch's advice, not knowing much about makeup herself and figuring his unsolicited judgment was just as good as any, Mabel removed the cap from the tube and inspected it. She hadn't even put much thought into the colour she had grabbed, but this one wasn't as initially eye-catching. And maybe that's what he was trying to say.
"Where are you and Pitchell from, then?" she asked, wiping at her lips with the cuff of her already ruined sweater to remove as much as she could of the lipstick. Given the way she looked, the least of Mabel's concerns were impressing him. He already mistook her for the undead. Not seeing any reflective surfaces to help with the application, Mabel just puckered her lips and smeared the new colour on as if it were chapstick.