tequila ; s. paulson one - shots

innocent (s. mckenna)

It was kind of a lonely night. You had checked into the Hotel Cortez upon arriving in Los Angeles, and you were bored out of your mind. The room was fine, but one could only lay in bed for how long before wanting to do something else.

Exploring the hotel, you decided to stay at the bar for a while, the most interesting place you had seen so far. It was nearly empty, except for the bartender, and a woman seated at the other end of the bar, wearing a leopard print coat over a spaghetti strap dress.

"What can I get for you?" the bartender asked, snapping you out of your observation.

"I'll have a root beer, please."

You gazed over the area, taking in the quiet music playing, and the lights illuminating the space, when someone spoke to you.

"Hey, beautiful, is this seat taken?" a man asked, gesturing to the seat next to you. As you shook your head, he sat down and you took in his appearance. sandy blonde hair, a scar running across his face, he seemed like a bad boy, someone to be cautious with.

He wasn't oblivious to your staring, and smirking, he turned to look at you, "Do you like what you see?"

"One root beer," the bartender saved you from embarrassment, sliding your drink over, which you sipped gratefully.

"Can I get a brandy?" the man asked, "Thanks."

Now very nervous, you twisted the straw with your fingers, "What's your name, beautiful?"

"I-I don't think I'm supposed to say," you stuttered, avoiding eye contact, "You know, talking to strangers and all."

Scoffing, the man took a sip of his drink, "You can't possibly tell me you're that innocent."

"Why would being innocent be so bad?" you replied, looking everywhere but at him. The woman sitting at the other end of the bar caught your eye but looked away, taking a drag from her cigarette.

"C'mon, babygirl, stop pretending, you know you want to," he pressed on. leaning near your ear, he whispered, "I can make you feel good."

You pulled away, desperate to be anywhere but near him, "Please leave me alone, sir."

"Sir, I like that," he chuckled, "but I'd like 'daddy' more."

He placed a hand on your thigh. "Sir, please stop."

Ignoring your protests, he moved closer and closer, until a hand tapped his shoulder.

"I think it's time for you to leave," the woman said, knowing how he had been harassing you, "Clearly, you're making her uncomfortable."

"And who exactly are you?" he snapped, "And how would you know what she'd be feeling?"

"If you don't leave, I'm going to have to call security. You really can't tell when someone doesn't want it, do you?"

"You bitch," standing up, he was slightly taller than her, but you were still more intimidated by your hero, "How dare you talk to me like that?"

Just as he was moving to hit her, she punched him in the face, sending him flying, "I told you, you should leave."

"You're going to pay for that," clutching his bleeding nose, he walked away, scowling, "You'll regret it."

"Try me, asshole," she retorted, flipping him off, "Your nose won't be the only thing bleeding when I'm through with you."

Now turning her attention to you, she looked over you, "Did he hurt you? Are you okay?"

"I'm better now, thanks so much," you replied, taking a sip of your drink, "You totally saved me."

"My pleasure," holding out a hand to you, she smiled, "The name's Sally. Can I sit here with you? You seemed pretty bored when you came in."

"Y/N," you smiled back, shaking her hand, "As long as you won't harass me, you can sit near me all you want."

She plopped down next to you and lit a cigarette, "I hate jerks like that, thinking that a girl wants to sleep with them, just because they're pretty and considerate enough to let them sit nearby."

"You seem like you have a lot of experience in that department, Sally," giggling, you took a sip of your slightly warm root beer, "I didn't really get to go out much when I was younger, so I had no idea that there were people like that. I thought that only happened in books or movies."

After a long drag, she stared at you, eyebrows furrowed, "Are you kidding me? A girl as pretty as you? Has never experienced someone flirting with her?"

"Why are you so surprised?"

"I just thought you'd be the type who's had a lot of boyfriends," she shrugged, "Guess you can't judge a book by its cover."

"You really can't," with a small laugh, you chewed on an ice cube before replying, "Bold of you to assume I wouldn't prefer a girlfriend."

"Wait, are you gay?" the obvious confusion on her face was priceless, "Like, fully into women gay?"

"I'm bi," you chuckled, "Why are you so surprised?"

"I thought I wouldn't be able to ask you out," she answered, very matter-of-factly, taking a drag from her cigarette, "At least now I have a slight chance."

"Wait, what?!"

"Are you really oblivious or do you just want me to compliment you again?"

"No, no, no, I was just wondering if you really meant it, you know, about asking me out and stuff. And how you said I was pretty."

"I mean, if you weren't gay or at least bi, then I would have probably been disappointed," she shrugged, "And of course I think you're pretty. Do you think I'd notice him harassing you if my eyes hadn't been stuck on you the whole night?"

You were quiet for a while, looking into her brown eyes, "Nobody's ever asked me out before. Or been interested in me in that way, for that matter."

"Well, then they're missing out. You are hands down the most beautiful girl I've ever seen."

"Aw, thanks a lot," your cheeks flushed at the compliment, "But I don't really think there's much they're missing out on. I'm not the most interesting person out there."

"Then it's high time we disproved that. I'd like to get to know you better and not just flirt with you because you're beautiful. So would you give me the honor of buying you dinner tomorrow night if you're free?"

"I'd be glad to."

"You know, you're the first girl I've asked out."

"Really? With the way you were talking, I thought you'd be the type with a lot of experience."

"Guess you can't judge a book by it's cover."

"You really can't."

wc : 1105