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"Oh, I don't know. Something tells me you're not gonna be tripping half as much as I am," but at least her words gave him a sense of comfort he hadn't even known he'd been seeking. It was a relief to know he wasn't the only one with little to no experience to fall back on; in a way, it allowed him to feel like she wasn't comparing him to anyone on the past. There were no expectations, and he liked that. It meant they could wing it as they saw fit. He'd always been a supporter of actions and feelings over thought.

Thinking always took too long.

A mild snort followed her words, "Who, me? No way. I'm innocent, on all charges," and yes, he had indeed made a dirty joke, and was well aware it had succeeded, if the mild smirk he was sending her way was any indication. He liked this game; this was a game he could play. It was like a simple tug 'o war, with a bit of give and take. It came naturally, and it had him wondering what he'd been doing all his life before now. It pretty much felt like... Christmas in spring, "I can't promise the girl will like me much at all. So long she doesn't try to kick me out forcefully, that's cool," he still recalled the way Rohan had pretty much kicked him out of his apartment on their first meeting. Though then again, in the man's defense, he'd almost kicked down his door and had then proceeded to kidnap the sofa and keep it all to himself.

"Not complaining," he told her matter-of-factly, raising both his hands in a mock defensive gesture, "Views great from here. Just sayin', that's all," a pause as they passed a stop sign and crossed a road, "Though I think you should stop distracting me until there's no danger of running into a damn post. I keep almost running into things. And seeing as how karma hates me, a car is going to like, run me over or something," he was, in fact, not done saying as much when she mentioned cupcakes, and somehow about the way she said 'love' immediately dragged his gaze back onto her, as if magnetically attracted, "I'd go for that," he'd go for anything she offered at that moment in time.

And suddenly, she was offering him heaven or something, "Oh man, I really like the ones with all the colorful sprinkles. I think sprinkles makes everything that much better. Everything should damn well have sprinkles. And m&ms and--" he shut his mouth, as if an attempt to just stop talking. Mostly because he'd gone into a stupid semi-rant about candy, of all damned things in the world, and he was pretty sure he sounded stupid. He just couldn't help himself - he was passionate about everything, whether it was candy, collecting starseeds, or racing someone to the end of the street. He just couldn't help it, specially when subject matters seemed to touch on things he really liked.

Change the topic, change the topic!

Despite the alert going on through his mind, he just managed to shoot her a sheepish glance, "I must," he ended up saying, watching as she put on his stud earring. And still, he had absolutely no clue what the hell had just happened, or what significance it had, exactly, but it still felt right, and thus, he was still going with it, "Looks good," pause, "What do I get?"

The ring was unexpected.

Creighton wasn't entirely sure what he'd been expecting, but a ring sure as hell wasn't it. He was torn between being blown away, for some odd reason, and making a wisecrack about how she'd offered him a ring. The later was more due to what it signified than anything, however, he wasn't allowed to explore that just yet. No sooner did his fist closed around the trinket, that they arrived to the dorms. They were no less impressive the second time around, and his gaze still traveled up to look at the many windows; really not at all like his, "Quiet as a mouse," he could, in fact, be good when he wanted to. It was just that usually, it didn't really matter. There was no actual reward in it for him. Now though? He would be quiet, and quite possibly polite, if she requested it.

She grabbed his hand and pulled him through what he though was a maze of hallways, "Man, I'm never going to find this place on my own. I'll just wander around, lost like an idiot, and someone'll call security on me or something," it was only when they were inside her dorm room that he finally redirected his attention back to ring he still had, clutched in his fist. Just looking at it, he could tell this wasn't going to work; there was no way he was going to be able to fit that on his ring finger. He looked up at she sat down on the bed, "Bad TV sounds good, right about now," and there was nothing better for bad TV than yummy desserts. So thus, still carrying the ring, he fetch the goodies and went to join her on the bed.

He sat to the side, crossing one leg under himself, and then tried to work the ring on, only to fail miserably, "Mmmm...." he paused for a moment, glaring down at the ring, either deep in thought, or trying to glare it into submission; it was hard to tell. Then, the proverbial light bulb appeared and he dug around his pockets. He pulled out several trinkets, including a small pocket knife, a little note that was rolled up into a ball, and a long, sturdy looking string, "I can fix this," he declared as he slid the ring into the string and then held it up around his neck. Alas, that's where he stopped, because he suddenly realized that a broken arm in a cast was extremely counter productive for tying a necklace around his neck, "I think I need a lil help here. Would you?" necklace first, cat later, he actually had to keep reminding himself of that, but to his credit, he was doing a pretty fantastic job so far.

"She'll be back," he told her - if only because neither Rohan or her (from word of mouth anyhow) struck him as the type, "Give 'er here," he finally said as he reached out for the cat, placing her on his lap. He'd always had a hand with animals, and if past encounters with cats were any indication, he'd probably have the kitten asleep in a little while.

He took hold of his hair in one hand, while still scratching the cat behind an ear as Amara worked the makeshift necklace on, "Thanks," thanking people was not something he was used to, but then, he was honest and blunt to a fault; thanking people when you didn't really feel thankful was not really his style, "Kreuger's awesome," he told her, "A classic's a classic. No need to mess with the classics - they're always great," dated? Yes, but still enjoyable, as far as he was concerned. Besides, the death scenes in that movie were nothing short of hilarious, especially the later ones. He'd always wondered what the hell the director had been smoking to come up with all of it.

As he was tugged back, he actually went rather willingly, peeking over his shoulder for a second before readjusting himself and the cat on his lap, and still, he realized that he could really get used to this, "******** yeah I would've. It's a maze in here. Is that on purpose or something?" his gaze slid away from the TV and over to her, peeking at her as she bit into the cupcake, specially as she hummed in appreciation. He had absolutely no idea how the girl could make as innocent as biting into a damned cupcake so captivating. He arched a brow at her, as if to ask if she was really, truly enjoying it that much and then motioned at his trapped hands, "Hands are busy," he told her, but no sooner did he do this, that he seemed to think twice and turned his head, opening his mouth in silent plea, as if expecting her to give him a bite.

"Cats are easy to understand. Most animals are. I like them. Even the ones that most people don't like; I think tarantulas are amazing, and they're fuzzy. Bats are awesome too," a snort followed his words, "Man, cats don't listen to anyone unless there's something in it for them. At least for the most part. Cats will look at you with that... haughty sort of stare, like... what the hell, are you talking to me? Not like dogs," but then, that was what he liked about cats; you had to win them over. Not that he was dissing the dogs either. Tough call, as far as Creighton was concerned.

Also a tough call was whether or not to move; the fact she was openly playing with his hair had not gone unnoticed and he was having a hard time trying not to react to it. Though in his defense, he was finding he rather liked having his hair toyed with; it was decisively... lulling for some odd reason, "Most cats like me," despite his attempts to not show a reaction, his voice had grown increasingly relaxed, "You like my hair or something? Not complaining, just wondering."

"I'll bet it's good," he tried to refrain himself from speaking. He really did, but it was just so very hard when she made it so easy for him to slip in remarks like that. He just couldn't help himself, even though he was trying his best to do so. That said though, he leaned in and took a bite of the offered cupcake; while it was true she could have pretty much offered him any piece of food and he'd have approved of it on the spot (it was hard not to approve when you were pretty much being lulled to sleep and comfortable - all this needed for it to be heaven was quite possibly, some jack o lanterns, then he could just die happy), he found that she was right. The cupcake was indeed delicious. After swallowing, he decided his pose was no longer as comfortable and scooted back till he was leaning against her, giving her better access to his hair, "Tis good. You made them then? I'll be your guinea pig if you cook like that, any time of day."

Also, just for the record... he wasn't 'tiny'; just... just... sort of vertically challenged or something. Creighton had always had a complex about his height, and half the stunts he pulled off were almost like a means to show to himself that yeah, it didn't matter if he was small; he was still going to make it hurt. He'd tried just about everything he could think of to remedy his situation, and had just finally decided he was going to have to live with it. Nothing short of a miracle growth spurt was going to 'cure' him anyhow, "I like taking bets on whose gonna be the first one down. Or better yet, whom the only survivors will be. That's always fun. I love how stupid the protagonists in these films are; there's probably like... a list of s**t you should never do in a horror film, because if you do, you're dead."

A snort followed her words, "They did it subconsciously. Can't let a Meadow view student, or god forbid a Hillworth student in here, now can they? I'm surprised there's no security patrolling the hallways," a pause, "There isn't, is there?" not that it would've deterred him, but if he had to find a way to sneak in via the window, he kind of wanted to know. He hoped there was a tree or some s**t, because he didn't think using his powered up form for such thing was in the job description, "I'm directionally challenged. Usually people just turn me in a certain direction and go 'attack there'. Easier," it was hard to tell if this was a joke, or the truth, or maybe a bit of both. Either way, he seemed quite comfortable telling her this, for some odd reason.

There was silence for a while, and then, without turning his head (mostly because if he did so now, he was sure he was going to find himself nose to nose with her, and while that wouldn't be a bad thing, he wasn't sure it was the expected thing), he hummed his satisfaction, deep in his throat. It sounded almost like a cat purring it's contentment to the world, only... not, "You can play with my hair any time you want," he would've let someone do this sooner if he'd known it felt so good. The kitten was now asleep in his arms, and Creighton decided he was going to have to be forcibly removed from the place he was currently occupying and.... dragged all the way to Hillworth. He would also make sure to whine and b***h all the way.

He was, without a doubt, particularly happy to be spoiled. As far as he was concerned, it wasn't often that these types of situations cropped up, and who the hell knew what life might toss at him tomorrow; you can damn well be sure he was going to enjoy himself while it lasted. It was also not often he connected with people, and he was planning on riding that wave as far as it allowed him to do so, "Well, you knew that. I didn't. Just reinforces the claim, don't it?" Creighton had watched this particular film many times before, and so, the action wasn't exactly exciting; in all honesty, he was paying more attention to both what was going on behind him and the cat on his lap. Then again, he was also sure that if Amara asked him anything pertaining the film, "Seen it too, so bets would be void. Still fun to watch," he was proud he hadn't even slipped up; he almost said it was fun to 'feel', not to watch. Derp.

Ah... but there was the subtle difference between them! While Amara was apparently mildly fussed over the repercussions their job had, Creighton pretty much embraced them. It not only gave him an outlet for, well, barely repressed anger, but as far as he knew, he could boast it was for the greater good (he'd swallowed the tale he'd been fed without a second's thought - hook, sinker and line). Before knowing about the Negaverse, he'd never really thought he could put his... talents to actual, good use. But then again, he probably would've done it too, even without the greater good part of the tale - who care about the greater good anyways? It was all about having fun while it lasted and going out with a blast, as far as he was concerned, "Nah, not really. But I guess I'm game," as far as he was concerned, he'd be damned if he didn't give everything, anything... at least a shot. Specially if it came accompanied with the hair fiddling; he was very swiftly becoming extremely fond of it.

"And why the hell not. I'm being a complete and utter gentleman. Rho would be proud, ******** it," except he was no longer sure where to rank Rohan, seeing as how he was going out with Khalla. Ah, the ironies of life, "So long you don't shove me out the window," a pause, "Is that your closet?" he was now, suddenly, mildly interested in what he might find in it. But then again, not interested enough to move. This was rather comfortable. Except he was pretty sure they were reversing roles here; he probably should have been behind her, with her leaning on him; he would have suggested as much if it hadn't been for the fact he knew it would be awkward. Despite the fact it'd gone unspoken, he was well aware the damned girl was over a half a foot taller than him.

A snort was released as he took the risk of looking over his shoulder at her. Just barely so; it allowed him to look at her out the corner of an eye, though her image was unfocused, "Do you really wanna do that?" he sounded amused, arching a brow at her; apparently he wouldn't really have actually cared if not for the repercussions of said actions, "I don't think you want to go there. I wouldn't mind, really. I'd die happy. but on the other hand, it sort of means no more can happen after that. Once you're dead, you're dead, love."

It was almost as if Amara's words had summoned her roommate. Well, that or the fact that she had just finally finished the food drive down at the homeless shelter. For once she had been doing something that made her feel good about herself - she didn't often get to do that anymore. She was aware it was late but it wouldn't be the first time that she'd walked into their dorm at a bit of a questionable hour. Amara was usually pretty good at not asking questions, but maybe that was just because she assumed she always knew where Khalla was.

She was rather unsuspecting as she made her way quietly down the hall, her shoulder bag held tight against her. She was hoping that no one came out of their dorms to ask her questions, otherwise this was going to become a pain. Luckily, she made it all the way to the door of their dorm room without encountering a single soul. She reached out to open the door, pushing it open and sliding in - greeted by the sounds of Amara's TV. "Good, you're home," she began without looking up to see what Amara was doing. She pulled her bag over her head and was just about to drop it on the floor when she happened to glance up.

"I wanted to talk to you about some.. who in the world is this?" Whatever she had been about to say died midsentence and was replaced with a high-pitched squeal of a question.

There was a boy in their dorm. A strange-looking, tiny boy that most definitely did not belong in their dorm. She dropped her bag unceremoniously at her feet, making a loud thud, and quickly shut the half-open door behind her. Her eyes were widened and settled on the pair as if she might shoot lazers out of them at any moment. It had finally occurred to her that not only was he in their door room, but he was in Amara's bed. What was she doing in bed with a boy?

And oh sweet space cauldron, he was a Hillworth student.

"Amara?" It was just a name, but way she made it into a question put all the weight of the world on it. She wanted an answer right then, otherwise she was planning on dragging him out of the room by his ear. Maybe alert an RA for good measure.

"This is my boyfriend," Amaravati informed Khalla. "Or so I'm calling him right now. Creighton, Khalla. Khalla, Creighton. You would know all about having boyfriends, wouldn't you, Khalla?" There was something decidedly sharp edged about that question, something entirely pointed. "Since you're dating a TA, and all." Even her smile was sharp. "We're watching a movie." As if that wasn't obvious. "How is Rohan doing, by the way? It's been what... a few days since I've spoken to him? You would, of course, know how he is... what he's been up to. I'll bet that's even where you came from."

Prickle, prickle, prickle. It was very, very obvious that Amara was not pleased. She took a firmer hold on Creighton, looking entirely possessive. If Khalla wanted to bring the RA down on them, it was not going to be without consequences. ... In all likelihood, it would involve Amaravati not speaking to her roommate for an extended period of time-- in this case, quite likely a week or two. That wasn't the full extent of it, though.

Amara's rather irritable words woke up the kitten, who stretched and shifted in Creighton's lap. "Khalla... you should sit, or something. Have a cupcake." Anything, anything at all so long as it wasn't Khalla making a fuss. Khalla was prone to fusses where Amara's love life was concerned, and really she could only blame herself, but at the end of the day an interference was an interference. It didn't matter that it was partially her fault for letting her think what she would of her, and her relationships. Never mind that this really was the first such beast.

"Well. Ribbons can be manly. Men used to wear ribbons all the time. You almost ended up with beads or something in your hair, and then what would you do?" She took hold of his hair again, leaning over to grab a couple orange ribbons from the drawer in the end table. When she had enough, she put them aside, and went back to work on his hair. "I know A Nightmare on Elm Street isn't really your style, Kay, but it's what's on." And what they had been watching, and enjoying. ... Well, when they'd been watching, at any rate.