<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'">“I guess we can’t argue with the outcome.” Ava agreed, pressing the soaked swab to one of the score marks against his chest. It seemed that the leather had taken the brunt of the damage, saving much of his flesh from the kind of ruin it would have suffered without it. Still, she drew some satisfaction from the way he winced at the sting of peroxide. No matter how gently she dabbed, how soft or delicate she tried to be thereafter, that sharp sensation would continue to bite at tender wounds. If it were a simple cut, scrape, or scratch sustained by almost any other means, she wouldn’t have been so adamant about proper first aid. Knowing what they came from, how foul and nasty the creature was, she felt it necessary. Ava couldn’t imagine what kind of terrible infection would come of them otherwise, so she continued to tend to his injuries carefully, maintaining her focus despite being tempted by the flesh in other ways. His torso was littered with old scars, a series of marks from previous dangerous encounters and reckless decisions. But she looked beyond those, eyes subtly surveying him in a way that was contradictory to the words she spoke next. <br/>
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She looked up at him for a moment, lacking amusement in her eyes but the smirk on her lips remained as he pretended to be oblivious to what she truly meant. The Hunter agreed, and she believed that the topic was closed and that there wasn’t nothing more to be said or done. Ava was putting the final touches on her bandaging when he lowered his shirt abruptly, a hand going to the side of her cheek. Usually she was averse to people touching her, and she shied away from physical contact whenever she could. There was a momentary glimmer of fear, a brief impulse to pull away or prepare herself for an assault of visions, but nothing happened . . . She only felt the warmth of his palm on her skin, and simultaneously the pounding of her heart in her chest as his face neared hers. Despite all good sense imploring her to move, she was still as his face neared hers. When he plucked a leaf from her hair, she blinked softly, watching it flutter to the ground. It was like being on a rollercoaster, climbing to the highest peak only for the ride to stop. Judging by the grin that he wore, he had gotten his desired effect, pleased with himself as he retrieved his jacket and got in the car. Ava dragged a hand across her face, the embarrassment turning her cheeks red and she moved to the driver side door. <br/>
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They were back on the road again after she shot off a quick message to Ben to inform him of their success; an all-caps text decorated with nasty expletives and angry emojis. She was quiet much of the way, not always lost in thought but using the silence to let the rush of the hunt alleviate, allow her nerves to stop flaring and the adrenaline to stop pumping. Her mind did wander, though. While she attempted to shun the moment from her head, she tried to recall the last time she embraced someone or held someone’s hand without the barrier of leather she wore on her own. She was always careful-- too careful-- of that kind of contact. Though she was stunned, and clearly unable to easily forget the passion in the brief kiss, she suspected that the intense level of enjoyment she experienced was mostly due to the rarity of it. For now, she pushed those thoughts aside. As they pulled up to the motel she popped the trunk, allowing him to grab his things before she cleaned up the bloody cotton swabs and wrappers. “Leaving in twenty-five minutes, Wes.” She called before he disappeared from her sight. Ava went to her own room not long after, taking the time to rinse the sweat and dirt from herself in the shower. She dried off and dressed again, letting her hair down from the bun she’d wound her tresses into before heading out again for the second time. There was a shot somewhere with her name on it.<br/>
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She pulled up to the roadside dive, a neon light flickering weakly. <i>Rudy’s Bar and Grille</i> was as lively as the sign, a few regulars scattered among those just passing through, but otherwise quiet-- except for the music that played from the jukebox in the corner; some old rock song she couldn’t quite put her finger on. Ava moved over to the bar, pulling out one of the stools where the vinyl had seen better days, cracking and peeling so badly that she considered herself fortunate to be wearing jeans. It didn’t take long for the bartender to approach the newcomers, a weary man wiping his hands with a rag before he rested them on the surface of a bar that was likely permanently sticky. “What’ll you two strangers have this evening?” He asked. Ava peered behind him, surveying the selection before coming to a quick decision. “A shot of vodka for me, please- whatever’s handy. And, a Corona with lime.” While Wes placed his order, she turned in her seat, observing their surroundings. The place was cluttered, not a bare spot on the walls, except for the area in the back. Dart boards lined the wall, a badly punctured cork board amazingly still held together. <br/>
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When the bartender slid them their drinks, Ava wasted no time downing the contents. The burn was welcome, invigorating even. "Come on, first one to get a bullseye gets to pick the next song." She set the little glass down, hopping out of her seat to lead the way with her beer in hand. </span>