He laughs at that, soft and low. “I just bet. Here, let’s see—“

Bucky digs in a pocket and comes up with a clean handkerchief. Before he wipes his own lips, he puts his fingers under her chin and tips her face up to the sky. “Let me,” he murmurs, dabbing with a corner of the cloth at a lipstick smudge, then running his thumb gently over her lips to even out the color that remains.