❝ Hey, I lost my phone number, can I have yours? ❞ Allison doesn't even know what came over her honestly. Was she trying to be cute? Not—-not really, because now there were over four dead bodies, angry FBI on her hands, and a supernatural killer still on the loose. There was no time for cute. Cute was for when she could relax, have a drink with someone, laugh and not worry about whatever the fuck was going on. Allison lets out a little bit of a laugh, sheepish in nature. Cheeks dust over with a light pink, and she's kind of tries to smile, eyes shining with embarrassment. God, she was not smooth enough for this. At all. Besides, he was totally—-uninterested.