Dean had met up with her after their session was over to get her address so he could pick her up since he and the boys usually didn't meet up until later in the night. He wasn't surprised to see that she lived in an apartment, but he was surprised to see the quality of it. Normally students lived in much worse conditions, usually taking any shelter they could find at cheap price. She seemed to have more pride than that. He made his way up the stairs, hearing blaring music being muffled through the wall. He paused, listening intently. It wasn't rock or metal, nothing upbeat. More indie Irish rock and mellow. He had to admit, he was kind of digging it.

The closer he came to her apartment door, the more he realized the music was coming from her apartment. His eye brow arched in curiosity. He walked closer to the door, noticing that it was cracked open. He could see her partially zipping past it, hands full of what looked like decorations and boxes. He knocked on the door lightly, the door opening even further than what he had meant it to.

She stood on a ladder, her earthy brown hair with red highlights pulled into an elegant but messy nun on the top of her head. Her small frame clad in dark wash jeans that hugged her curves, and a tight, dark green shirt with a Celtic knot on the back of it. He would have thought it was a Shamus shirt if it hadn't bean for the small "CarbonLeaf" logo underneath it. She paused, so did he. She switched songs, a more soulful song catching him guard.

"The world was on fire and no one could save me but you.

Strange what desire will make foolish people do… "

She sang with the song, her body rocking with the slow music. He leaned against the door frame, arms crossed over his chest. She jumped off of the ladder, landing in a low, silent plié before standing up, leaning to one side then the other while extending her arm out. Here eyes were closed, Dean realized she was completely taken with the music as she turned, one leg pointed and tucked out being her. She stopped, turning towards him, eyes still closed as if she memorized the layout of her apartment. She let her hips carry her forward two steps before bowing down and lifting her leg until both legs looked like a vertical pole. She kicked out, reverse turning and leaned forward, thrusting all of her weight to her right leg while the other extended out. Her back arched, head falling back and fingers playing the air like a harp as the music sped up.

Dean could have watched her dance all day if they had the time, but he was thirsty. He cleared his throat, drawing her attention away from her peaceful world to the harsh—and now embarrassing— reality in front of her. She straightened up, her cheeks a furious red.

"Dean w—" she stopped, clamoring to pause the music. She cleared her throat and brushed a strand of hair out if her face. "What are you doing here?"

Dean gave her a quirky smirk, his eyes trailing the soft curve of her cheek. He realized he had wanted to tuck that stray strand of hair behind her ear for her. Her performance was truly breath taking for him, though he could see why her friend begged her to finish out their childhood dream. Auburn was truly a sight to behold with strong, defined legs and flexibility, balance and endurance. She'd be a legend in the ring if she worked at it.

"Enjoying the show?" His blue eyes stared at her almost hungrily when she glared at him. "Relax, princess. I'm just here to pick you up for that drink." He reassured her, holding his hands up in mock surrender. She seemed confused at first then all at once her eyes widened and her features stretched into a deep enlightenment.

"Oh yeah, I almost forgot. Sorry about that. Give me just a second I have to get my coat." She said, walking off quickly and disappearing into her room. He glanced around her apartment, Christmas lights were strung along the ceiling, pictures of her and a woman he assumed to be Christine. She had started to hang paintings on the wall, making it her own space. Everything was clean, even through all the boxes. She came out of her room, smiling at him. She was sporting her grey pea coat roman styled mid calf high heels. His eyes met hers.

"Ready to go?" He asked her.

"Yeah." She answered, walking passed him and exiting the apartment. He followed suit, allowing her to lock her door. They made their way down in awkward silence, nothing but the soft clacking of her heels and the thuds of his boots hung in the air. When they reached his car he opened the passenger door for her.

"So that song you were dancing to, what was that?"

"Charlotte Cardin's rendition of Wicked Games. It's the piece I was working on before Christine passed,"

"Well it was beautiful."

"You think so, huh?"

"Yeah, well, it isn't my type of music. But it was pretty good." He flashed another smirk to her and she rolled her eyes and turned her head away to hide the smile that spread across her lips. And then they drove off.

The bar wasn't as busy as it was the first time she came in, but it was still busy enough. She hated busy, but also enjoyed it. Dean lead their way to the bar, pulling her stool out for her while he sat next to his friend Roman. Roman smiled widely at her, the crinkles next to his eyes becoming more defined. His long, ebony hair was pulled into a man bun and he wore a simple teal T-shirt and jeans. Seth quickly slid next to her, striking a silly pose in an attempt to seem charming.

"Hey, beautiful. Come here often?" He asked. Auburn arched an eye brow in amusement.

"Hey, Seth. C'mon man, you're scaring her." Roman said, making Seth's ever charming smile drop.

"How you guys doing? What happened tonight?" Dean asked after raising two fingers to the bartender. The trio began catching up, talking about what wrestlers were doing what and gossiping about which Diva said what. Dean soaked it up like a sponge but still remained stoic. Auburn listened in, desperately trying to follow with what they were saying. She failed, giving up about half way through and decided to just drink her beer. She was silent, letting them catch up as she glanced the room, sweeping her eyes over the people's faces. She'd never felt so out of place before now. She was used to walking into a room and everyone knowing who she was. Here she felt like just a regular stranger.

"So Auburn, Dean tells us that you were studying to be a dancer before you joined wrestling?" Roman asked, trying to pull her into the conversation. She turned her attention to them, smiling softly.

"Yeah, I was in my third semester before, well you know." She answered proudly, the slightest hint of sadness tipping her words.

"You must have some moves, huh?" Seth winked playfully at her. She scoffed at him and chuckled at him.

"I don't know about that…" she blushed deeply.

"Why don't you show us some moves?" Dean teased, looking into her eyes intensely. A chill ran down her spine, a faint blush rising to her cheeks. She inwardly cursed him out for making her blush so easily.

"Here?" She stammered, her brows drawing together in concern.

"Yeah, come on. We really wanna see you get down," Roman wiggled his shoulders. She thought that was odd for a man of his height and build, but in a way it was kind of cute.

"Unless you are scared?" Dean challenged, earning a glare from her. Seth and Roman exchanged a quick glance, watching as the two kept eye contact. Her jaw went slack slightly as she angrily thought it over, she hated being put on the spot. She looked back at him with a devilish grin, her eyes twinkling with mischief.

"Dance with me." She said. It wasn't a request, Dean realized as he fought back surprise and instead raised his brow in intrigue. She was smart for switching the playing card. He looked over at the boys then nodded gruffly. His fingers twitched slightly at the thought of getting to touch her. He saw her taking off her coat and handing the bartender her iPod and whispering for him to play a certain song. Dean cocked his head to the side, taking a sip of his beverage before shrugging his leather jacket off.

She had butterflies rustling in her stomach, the thought of Dean's hands on her body felt forbidden to her yet almost right. She wanted to shut him up, make him pay for embarrassing her in front of the boys bot once but twice. If he wanted a dance he would have a dance. She'd make it sensual but teasing and tasteful, enough to shut him up but make her look like a lady. She wanted to show him her talent and satiate that curiosity. With any luck he'd never ask her again. She let out a calming exhale, steeling her nerves. She was about to dance with Dean Ambrose.