Shoving her freed hands into her pockets to keep them warm, Mabel decided it was a good enough answer for her. And she had to wonder what else about her that he knew that she didn't. While she had never made a verbal or mental commitment to the pale periwinkles that had dominated her wardrobe most of her life as her favourite, Mabel supposed it had to be the closest thing she had to one now that Mitch's offhanded hint forced her to consider it. Really, there probably was no other colour he could have mistaken as something she had any close affinity to. It had developed outside of her mother's influence whose own preference for bright jewel tones only washed the pale girl out and thus were avoided, and was only coincidental that it suited her house so well (always glad not to have the garish yellow of Hufflepuff or flashy crimson of Gryffindor as part of her uniform.) It would be a mistake to think of her like of blue as anything having to do with pride.
But if she had to do the same for him, Mabel was uncertain how successful she would be. He was always far more open about what he hated than what he liked, and going off his wardrobe outside of the standard issue house green, which suited him well enough, she was used to seeing him in neutrals that made him appear far more mature than he actually was. She supposed she was lucky that it wasn't a consideration when picking out his gift. "What's yours?" she asked, not too bothered by the fact she hadn't known, but thinking it might be important for future reference... not that she could think of any off the top of her head.
"We could take dinner elsewhere," she revisited his suggestion that had been more a threat of force feeding at the time, uncertain if she was intentional with the romantic implications of them being alone. If things were the same way as they were just a few weeks ago, she would have made the same offer just for the sake of not having to deal with all the other students, but she knew the context changed a lot. He could take it however he pleased, she supposed. There was no threat of giving wrong impressions, and no need to pretend to be shy or demure.
The mention of Grigg caused her to pause almost thoughtfully. "I'd forgotten all about him," she remarked with a hint of wonder. It wasn't as if their cousin (or was Grigg only his cousin anymore? it was still too complicated for her to worry much about the semantics) played much of a role in either of their lives, probably glad to be ignored. And she was just as glad to continue ignoring him, as fun as tormenting the boy used to be, because Mitch was the only target on her mind at that moment when it came to burying in snow. Snatching the tray back from him as to spare the cookies and cause distraction, Mabel's foot found its way into his walking path to catch him mid-step.