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Jesse still wasn't certain why he was here - not that he minded, really. He loved crowds and dances, the feeling of near claustrophobic bliss that pressed in from all sides while wrapped in the bubble of lights and voices. But a matchmaking dance?

He frowned, shifting uncomfortably in the odd version of his normal clothes - a black button up shirt, the cuffs rolled up to his elbows, and tight blue jeans tucked into black cowboy boots. The familiar scent of the scarlet bandanna tied around his neck was of some comfort, but he kept wishing for a hat, and fingering the fabric rose that they'd attempted to skewer him with at the door. He was just about to give up on recognizing one girl in the sea of pink dresses when something else connected roughly with his ribcage.

"Oof!" He complained eloquently, blinking slowly at the question as he allowed cerulean eyes to swivel about and focus on the girl questioning him. His lips stretched into a smile of relief - she looked just like her picture - before forming into a more friendly, if slightly toned down version of his winning-100-watt-high-voltage smile. "That'd be me," he confirmed, voice bright as he reached up before pausing. He didn't have a hat to tip, he realized - expression going disgruntled for a brief second before he instead moved in an awkward bow. "And you must be Miss Rosalie? It's a pleasure to meet'cha, ma'am."

"Miss Rose," he corrected himself in the same friendly gush as before, straightening his spine slowly as he spoke. Some small part of him was slightly embarrassed that she was obviously more the socialite than he, but it was overridden by relief that she was, indeed, here and not standing him up.

How horrible would it have been to be stood up at a Valentine's dance?

The thoughts were quickly pushed from his head, and he moved to offer one arm. "Y'know, I don't think I've seen you around school," he noted idly. "Granted, I'm still pretty new so I don't near know everyone's faces n'all, but you've got a very unique look to ya that I think I'd remember if I'd seen." It was some sort of Japanese fashion, wasn't it? He blinked, trying to remember before giving up. "Not in a bad way," he hastily covered, offering a slight smile. "In fact, it's kinda a relief not t' have a date that's all gussied up in pink. Doesn't look good on most people," he explained, voice lowering as he chattered away. "Not to be mean or anythin'," he finished a moment later, biting his lip in afterthought.

"Well, I guess that would make me identifiable," he chortled, pausing to glance down at her - lips stretching into a small, worried frown. "It's a good thing you don't like it, then. Any more pale, and I'd be rushin' you to the nurse to make sure ya ain't gonna go and pass out on me," he cautioned, biting his lip once more before shaking the somber emotion from his shoulders.

"But then, if yer here, you must feel well enough, right?" Another brilliant, trusting smile. "So, Mi-," he stopped, clearing his throat. "Rose," he tested, unsure of the name without the polite prefix. "What kinda things do you do in your spare time?"

"I'll take ya on yer word at that," he cautioned, offring that same, harmless smile towards the redding face as if he didn't notice she was embarrassed at all - the simple joy of idiocy or the bliss of not caring at all. Her next statement made him blink, and he pondered briefly if everyone around here played the fighting game - he hadn't realized it was that popular.

"I've never encountered a ball-jointed doll besides an angel," he replied after realizing he'd been quiet a bit longer than necessary. "I play too, but I'm not very good as of yet. Do you have a big collection of dolls?"