"Nothing," Mabelle confirmed, still feeling uncomfortable with freeloading and having nothing to offer in exchange for the burden of her simply being there, but understanding how hazardous any attempts of her well-intentioned help could be. She was a dead weight with no redeemable qualities, and she still couldn't understand on his insistence of keeping her there because he wasn't even a charitable person- somebody who had more reason than any to wish for her death. Even without what she had done to him, and how much it was obvious he neither forgiven her nor trusted her after her unprompted attack, essentially halving his food supply was enough of a financial strain on what couldn't have been an easy budget in the first place alone was plenty of reason why she would have expected him to throw her out on the streets as soon as he discovered her.
And as much as she didn't want to further contribute to the problem of resources, Mabelle was hungry, far hungrier than she could ever remember being and it was difficult to ignore the twisting of her stomach that the apple had awakened. Instead of greedily raiding his cabinets for whatever scraps he may have, however, she would only take what was offered.
Fingers helplessly trying to work through a particularly matted section of hair, Mabelle frowned as the implications of what she requested sunk in with his tone of voice. Of course it was too much to ask to handle anything so sharp, so soon. Even if she wouldn't dare touch him now, Mabelle's own trust in herself faltered. "My hair," she explained, about ready to give up completely when she could tell she had already lost. "Or you could..." she began to suggest he cut it for her, but that also seemed far too demanding. "Nevermind," she finally retreated from the idea. Pulling her mass of hair over her head and trying to dunk as much as she could into the water at once, Mabelle crouched over the wash pan in an an awkward position while trying to let her hair soak.