Sure, who doesn’t like jokes?

“Pick whatever you want,” you say, forcing cheeriness into your voice. “It’s on me.”

She frowns at you. “What?”

You blink. “That was… I was making a…” you sigh and look down. “Just… grab something. Quickly.”

She nods and walks away toward the women’s section, and you shake your head. That was a pretty pathetic attempt at humor. You really hope your rustiness with social skills wasn’t entirely obvious.

Carmen looks through the racks and you stare at the bleak men’s section. There wasn’t much left at all; mostly second-hand clothes that no one bothered to loot during the initial chaos of M-Day. You flick through jackets that are either far too small or far too big for your frame and tut.

Your new companion comes back with a handful of clothes in her arms. “I… I found these.”

You blink at her. “...Ok?”

She bites her lip. “Are these ok?”

You look at the clothes in her grip and step forward, pulling one of the articles out. “Don’t wear this,” you instruct.

She looks up at you, green light dancing in her eyes. “Why?”

“Wrong color,” you explain, spreading the t-shirt. “Orange this bright isn’t exactly camo in the wilds.”

She nods up at you and you notice how close she is to you. Her lip is red and split, but that doesnt do much to detract from how pretty she is. You clear your throat and step back, chucking the t-shirt away as she turns and walks to the changing room, only to stop.

A giant vine has grown through the singular changing room of the old shop, rendering it useless. She hesitates and you sit down before she has to awkwardly ask; turning away and facing the door. A moment later you hear clothes rustle and movement catches your eye.

You almost grab for your handgun but you notice the shifting is slow and careful, and with a start you realize it’s a mirror - with a full view of Carmen changing.

Your heart beats hard in your chest. She drapes the clothes on a nearby rack and reaches down for the bottom of her torn shirt; causing your eyes to widen.