"Unexpected? Awkward? Mildly horrifying?" All of the above, maybe. Odessa is distinctly pale as she turns her head slowly to look in his direction. Even though she's stopped moving, it takes several seconds for the sensation to match reality. Even the sound of her own voice seems to loud in her ears, despite that she's barely above a whisper.

"What happened to your wrist?" For whatever reason, she's operating under the belief that his recollection of the evening will be better than hers. Mostly because she can't imagine anyone remembers less about whatever happened the night before than she does. Without thinking much about it, she reaches up to scratch at the side of her neck, where there's some dried blood against her skin as well.