Control - Dean Winchester [1]

23 ; French 75 & Blood-Red Nails

Odessa delicately motioned for the bartender as she perched herself on a wooden stool, beaming her notorious grin as the female bartender asked what she wanted. Odessa shrugged off her charcoal-black long-coat, attentively folding the fabric and placed it beside her as she ordered a 'French 75'. She drummed her fingers along the tabletop, crimson-red nails glimmering in the romantic lighting. From her peripheral vision, the man several seats away was intently staring as he sipped his whiskey. Disregarding his indiscreet roaming eyes, she flipped open her phone, re-reading the multiple messages Sam sent her three hours before. According Sam's message, Dean was entirely a wreck with his usual tactics being used; avoid emotional confrontation, divulge his attention in something else entirely, and bitterly ward off those who attempted to assist him in any form.

A sudden wave of affluent cologne suffused her nose as her glass cocktail was placed on the countertop and inwardly groaned at the intimate proximity with the man. She currently wasn't looking for a one-night stand and his potent cologne forceful on her senses. Odessa raised her glass of champagne, already disinterested with conversation he was going to muster. "You know, I've always loved a woman who knew what she wanted." Bringing the rim to her scarlet-stained lips, she sipped her drink, humming scornfully. 

Odessa pressed her lips together, narrowing her eyes as she faced him. His demeanor evidently revealed he'd done this before; his head lifted, he stood tall with his chest pushed out. He was fairly good-looking with a robustly-built frame. His eyes were a gleaming shade of piercing grey, and his well-maintained scruff enhanced his attractiveness. "Then it's such a shame that I don't want you." She replied curtly, rolling her eyes as he smirked at her retaliation. He chuckled, clearly amused by her.

She sipped her champagne, obviously uninterested with the man beside her. He took a large gulp of his whiskey, motioning for the female bartender to re-fill his glass. He leaned against the counter, continuing to ogle at the irked Guardian. She'd only entered this bar to unwind from the case she'd finished an hour prior. "Playing hard to get, I see." He accepted his whiskey from the petite bartender, not bothering to even mutter a single 'thank you' her way. 

She released an exasperated sigh, turning her whole body his way. "There's no such thing as 'playing hard to get'," She said crudely, "It's simply called 'being disinterested'." 

His smirk didn't seem to diminish, only widened as his hand glided smoothly up her thigh. She raised her eyebrow and clenched her jaw. "I'm giving you five seconds to remove your hand from my thigh or I'll bash your face in." She sneered menacingly, stiffening as his hand was shifting alarmingly getting closer to edge of her underwear. His eyes piqued in interest as his gaze directed itself on the ruby necklace just between her breasts.

He snatched the ruby into his hand, examining it thoroughly. "Is this a real—" 

Odessa hastily seized his wrist and achingly contorted his hand the opposite direction that it's supposed to bend, slyly grinning as the stomach-turning crack filled her ears. "Times up." She forcefully gripped his hair from the back of his head, and swiftly brought his head down on the countertop. The vehement bang echoed through the entire bar, gathering nearly everyone's attention. He groaned loudly as he stumbled back, clutching his nose as blood gushed between his fingers. She yanked her coat from where she placed it and shrugged it back on shoulders. She took her champagne and downed the remaining amount, and settled the empty glass back on the counter. Peering down at the man, she feigned a smile. "Touch another girl without her consent, I swear I'll find you," She taunted, "And your nose and wrist won't be the only things I'll break."