And just like that, all interest in meddling has vanished. It's like magic! Odessa waves a hand dismissively. She hadn't wanted to work with Security anyway. "Then I won't worry about it." Be curious about it, sure, but not beyond the cursory.

"You wouldn't look at me until I started talking shop," Odessa observes with a little too much of a point on it to be wholly casual. "Is it simply that you'd rather be drinking alone? Or have I done something to offend you?"

If she weren't such a fan of formality in her own speech, she might have trouble taking Charles' apology at face value. She still has her doubts that there isn't something else going on here, and that it might actually be something to do with her specifically, but she doesn't doubt the sincerity of his somewhat needless apology.

"It must be difficult for you," Odessa says after a quiet moment spent sipping from her refreshed glass, "being cut off from your ability." There's an undercurrent to her tone that speaks not only of sympathy, but true empathy. Like she might actually know what that feels like. "I know you have friends, so I don't expect you to suddenly confide in me. I just thought it might help one of us if I said it out loud." Probably just her. She's selfish like that.

She should have expected to strike a nerve. Odessa doesn't shrink back or bother looking apologetic about it, however.

"Nothing," is basically the truth. "He informed me that you're no longer running our little show, and you tell me you're dropping the Winter Soldier case despite personal involvement. You said there's nothing for me to do, being as I'm not in possession of telepathic ability, and you're obviously not reading my mind. From what I understand, that isn't just a courtesy." Sorry, just calling it like she sees it. "So something has happened, and you've lost your ability." And that's why he's a bloody mess.

Not just another pretty face. This qualifies as being noticed on her own terms, definitely.

"I think," she says, without pausing for careful consideration. If he were reading her mind, he wouldn't be waiting for her to order her thoughts and figure out the best way to state something. "You're being too hard on yourself, whatever the reason you're in this situation." Not that he knows it, but it's more charitable than Odessa tends to be toward others. Maybe it's mutant solidarity or something. She polishes off her own drinks, and knows she'll be feeling that one before she leaves the room. "I also think I've ruined any chance of striking up a friendship now." Said as she stands up from her seat. "And I am sorry for that."

She'd understand all of it better than he'd imagine, but only one of them's a telepath. His well-wishing is responded to with a nod. "Thanks for the company," she muses, as if she hadn't simply intruded on him. "If you ever want to have another go at it, you know how to reach me."

Then she's off with purposeful strides, careful not to allow the staccato of her footsteps carry any note of hesitation, even once she's out in the hall.