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"Yes, a cat," he said, his voice sounding ridiculously serious, which probably only made the situation all the more amusing, "They're sneaky beasts; I should know. Uno's probably worse than the one that tried to bite my hand of in it's attempt to snatch the sandwhich," a sigh escaped his lips, almost as if he were mourning the death of a dear, dear friend, "It was such a lovely sandwich too. It actually had substance to it, and it was warm," of course, the cat wasn't the reason he'd looked up into the tree to start with; he didn't really care about the wildlife the park gave a home to. Alas, throwing off suspicion was something he'd become rather good at, and while Khalla did not like to lie, he had a surprisingly easy time doing so if it secured their safety and concealed his true identity from her, "It was a perfectly good sandwhich, I'll have you know," Rohan didn't pout. At least not in the true sense of the word, however... this was probably s near as he'd come in a long time, "With my luck, I'm probably fortunate it didn't try to steal my book, too."

Of course the ground. They could have simply stayed on the bench, but no. When Khalla did something, she always did it the right way, and there was just no better way to have a picnic than on the ground. Even if Rohan thought it was counter productive to put food on the floor, blanket or no blanket; it tended to attract ants. Despite his thoughts, he instantly took the corners of the blanket and helped her spread it on the ground, just far enough that it would not touch the bench, but near enough so that he could sit on the edge of the blanket and lean against the leg of metal structure.

"What, did you bring for us, by the way?" he was asking about the food, apparently. As soon as the blanket was spread out over the ground, he sat himself down, leaning his back comfortably against the bench as he turned to look up at Khalla. Somehow, the change of position and looking up... seemed to amuse him, because the ghost of a smile haunted the corners of his lips. At least, momentarily anyhow, because the a second or two passed and he once more looked about as serious as a heart attack, which made his next words all the more amusing (at least to him, though he didn't think she'd find any mirth in them), "Come here?" the motioning of his arm clearly seemed to indicate that 'here' was the general vicinity of his lap.

"Well, I guess I'll find out what dessert it is after I eat the sandwiches then. I'm a patient man," there was just a hint of something there that made it hard to tell if Rohan was just talking about the food, or something else altogether. He looked as passive, if not as serious as ever though. Maybe it was the fact that he felt particularly safe, surrounded by the bushes, tree and bench (not to mention they held the advantage in that they could have seen anyone approaching from a rather nice distance thanks to the height of the hill on which they sat), or maybe it was an entirely different reason altogether, but Rohan felt particularly brave. Or... as brave as he figured he was going to feel at any rate, given the fact he wasn't a particularly extroverted person to begin with. As she looked at him, he had to refrain the mirth that threatened to show upon his features; the poor girl looked like she thought he might consider taking a bite out of her if she wasn't careful.

"I promise I will only eat the sandwhich. There's no reason I can't have you here, and eat in peace," no, it wasn't that he was reading her mind. Hardly that! It was just that... while he was sure she knew him rather well, he'd come to more or less figure out the way her mind worked, "I am not planning on ignoring your delicious food. I was just thinking that you probably wouldn't mind somewhere to lean on, and... well, the other bench leg is WAY over there," a pause as he motioned to the other leg, which stood a good meter and a bit away from him,"That and... I am admittedly selfish, and would not mind repeating last night's experience."

See? There was perfect (albeit selfish) reasoning behind his actions. He was rewarded when the girl finally seemed to accept his offer and sat down beside him, leaning herself against him, "Eating is still perfectly plausible, see?" he reached over her in order to hunt through the assorted goods within the basket, pulling out one of the sandwhiches so he could take a bite, "Did you bring any drinks?" despite the fact he was being relatively bold, it still left his throat dry to have her this damned close. Not that he'd tell her that much.

It wasn't that he was perceptive when it came to others so much as... he actually cared enough to pay close attention to Khalla's moods and mannerisms. He'd come to notice she a bit of an open book; she had several nervous ticks that gave away how she felt at that particular moment, if you looked for them. The way she fussed with things, be it her hair or her clothes, when she was embarrassed or otherwise nervous... being the very first one he'd picked up on. She also bit her bottom lip when she was annoyed, or debating something. Rohan idly found himself wondering if he was as much of an open book to others as she was to him, or it all came down to actually caring for a person.

"I promise," to his credit, he looked entirely honest; technically, he hadn't planned further than asking her to sit with him, so this was just fine, as far as he was concerned, "Sweet tea?" a pause as he recalled the time she'd pulled him into that little tea shop last winter, "I find that to be a strangely ironic echo," warning bells went off in his mind when the girl began to fumble with the thermos, but he (perhaps unwisely) chose to remain still, letting her handle the situation at hand.

It ended with half the content of the thermos spilling over his shirt.

Rohan soon enough found out that despite the fact that it was rather warm out, the thermos had kept the tea almost freezing cold (or at least, that's what it seemed like to him anyhow). He stiffened instantly, and straightened up, while still remaining in a sitting position, his free hand reaching to pull the wet cloth away from his skin. The cool sensation had left him somewhat breathless for a moment, and having Khalla fussing over him was not helping either, specially given the fact she seemed to be talking (and moving) at fifty miles per second, "It's fine," his voice sounded slightly broken, but it could have been easily misread for a slight cough due to the freezing liquid, "I don't..." another pause, "I don't think you're going to be able to dry it up, Khalla. Not like that."

He knew the only way to actually dry off the material effectively, without catching a cold was to pretty much take it off, and leave it spread under the sun for a while. 'Ahhhh...' he thought to himself, barely managing to refrain the groan that threatened to bubble up his throat 'I really didn't want to do this'. Alas, his gaze slipped over to Khalla as she frowned, looking utterly devastated over something as silly as this; all she'd done was spill some (granted, freezing cold) tea over his shirt. Rohan was sure it could be easily washed off, and in all honesty, it wasn't that bad of a situation. He was hesitating, yes, and he was slightly concerned, due to the implications that carried following his train of thought, but he wasn't upset at her.

It was probably clear he was debating something, but after her mournful apology, Rohan came to a decision and finally began to move, pulling slightly away from her so he could manouver, shrugging out of his shirt with only minor difficulty (the thing kept on clinging to his skin), "It's fine, really," he'd not wanted to take the damned thing off because, well... going shirtless was not something he was used to. That, plus he wasn't sure she would lean against him anymore after this, and... that's not counting the fact he was very well aware of the fact he had several strange tattoos that spread across his sides and back. He had absolutely no idea how he was going to tackle to upcoming, inevitable questions. Unfortunately for him, he'd come to the decision that her feeling miserable was just not worth keeping his dignity intact, and thus had figured that taking the proverbial 'blow' was the best choice.

Damn his strange logic and ethics.

"It will dry just fine if I spread it out on the grass in the sun," this was him now neatly avoiding the obvious elephant in the proverbial room, "I'm sure it'll be fine by the time we have to go back, and the stain will come off just fine - it's just tea," after spreading the shirt on the floor beside them, in a nice patch of sun, he slowly leaned back against the bench, wincing only momentarily at the mildly cool metal behind him before relaxing down. He watched her through slightly hooded eyes and resumed eating his previously forgotten sandwhich, as if nothing had happened, "We can swing back to my apartment and fetch something nice and clean before we head back."

Wait for it... three, two, one...

And there we go, he thought to himself as she spoke up. Admittedly, he'd been far more distracted watching her watching him than he was letting on (he hoped it wasn't too bluntly obvious). There was nothing he could do to keep from feeling at least mildly pleased that she seemed to approve of him, on some level, tattoos aside. He'd technically been expecting a scolding, or some sort of arguement that tattoos were hardly proper, so thus, what she said left him expecting the more to come. He pratically had to keep himself from voicing the obvious 'And?' that he felt he should speak outloud to keep her going.

Alas, she soon enough settled back down (albeit regretfully not into her previous position), "Yes well. I was once young and stupid," a pause, "Younger and far more stupid than I now am, anyhow," a few more bites, and he'd practically wolfed down the sandwich, thought it probably had more to do with his need to occupy himself with something (anything!) other than the fact she was eyeing him curiously still. Rohan had a lot of trouble admiting that things could affect him, and this was no different; he was having a very hard time trying to come to terms with the fact her eyeing him curiously (even if it was just the tatoos) for reason, actually turning him on, and was embarrassed by it. So much so, he was deeply considering grabbing the shirt and slipping it back on again, cold freezing liquid be damned.

"In all honesty, I don't recall getting them," he reached up and rubbed the bridge of his nose, squeezing his eyes shut for a moment in an attempt to clear his mind, "I think it had to do with a prank, and something a 'friend' slipped into my drink. I don't recall - I did some strange things that day. I'm, apparently, not a proverbial stick in the mud when I'm drunk, which is why I make sure I don't drink much at all," he lowered his hand from his face, noting that his attempt to clear his thoughts had failed miserably, because they were still pretty much headed in a direction he did not appreciate at the current moment.

He was also blaming the fruit. For some odd reason, her eating the fruit was having a particularly strange effect on him too. Stupid fruit. turning his gaze entirely away from the girl that sat beside him, he instead chose to focus on the lake, which seemed like a safe thing to look at, "Can I have some tea, please? My throat is dry," and that was the only hint he was going to give her at this rate. Then again, if she was able to read him even half as well as he thought he could read her, he was probably doomed from the start anyhow.

"It was hardly my fault. Drinking is perfectly fine, when it is not abused. If I recall correctly I was having a glass. A single glass," a pause, "And I was of age," in case that hadn't been sufficiently clear before, "I still drink - I find whine to be rather nice tasting, especially when campaigned by a nice book. And I admit I also like when the cat sits on my lap while I read and drink - it's oddly comforting," and he had absolutely no idea why he was even telling her all this. He should have, by all means, shut his damned mouth ages ago, but he felt the burning need to fill in even the slightest silence with his voice. Mostly because if he didn't, his thoughts began to stray down roads he didn't particularly appreciate at the current moment in time, "That's almost like saying that one shouldn't eat chocolate cake because eating a whole chocolate cake would make you sick."

Her staring was also not helping his current situation; he'd noticed her staring even before he'd turned back to watch her (after all, he didn't want a repeat of the previous thermos incident - wanted to pay attention this time). Her gaze on him was almost made him squirm, which would have been funny if only because he wasn't used to squirming much at all. Walking away from physical contact? Sure. Looking awkward? Again, sure. But squirming? Rohan didn't squirm. And yet, had she not torn her gaze away, he probably would have, "Are they that fascinating?" he found himself asking, and no sooner had those words left his mouth that he wished he could just shove them back in, because he had no idea where the hell they had even come from. He had honestly not meant to say that, and it clearly showed upon his features, since he looked vaguely horrified.

He was going to blame the fruit.

Even if she was no longer eating it, seeing as how she was fetching his drink for him. He was still going to blame it however. That and her squeak of a word and her blushing face. At least he was mostly secure in the notion that they were alone and that no one, was, in fact, watching this train wreck of a date, "I did NOT mean to ask that. I have no idea where that came from," he admitted honestly, and since he was going for honesty here, he decided to add to it, "I find you to be most distracting."

Well, apparently he wasn't the only one having a good ammount of trouble thinking and talking, if her stutter and unintelligent first reply was any indication. While it was true that he would have never wanted her to be miserable, he couldn't help but feel a little bit relieved in the knowledge that he wasn't going through this all alone. She was having her fair share of trouble, which in turn made him feel just a touch less foolish. Granted, Rohan was not entirely sure if they were on the same wavelength (half of him hoped they were, and the other half would probably have a heart attack at the mere of idea of it). Still, either way it was progress, even if it had been achieved in the most unconventional of places, as far as he was aware (the park hardly seemed like the type of place for such ideas).

When she put the thermos down on the ground, he followed it with his gaze, almost as if torn between reminding her that his throat was, in fact, still dry, and watching her strange behavior. After a few seconds passed, Rohan settled for the later, his gaze following her as she squirmed and looked like she wanted the earth to swallow her up, there and then. No sooner did she speak up again, that it was Rohan's turn to feel like he really, really wished the ground would split open, right where he sat, because she had no idea, how... enticing those few words were to him.

It took every shred of willpower to keep him rooted to the spot, but his gaze was, for all effect, practically burning a hole through her, "You misinterpret," he finally managed, and he actually paused to give himself a mental pat on the back when he noticed that his voice, while hoarse... did not crack, "Uncomfortable is when a random stranger presses him, or herself against you in the train. Uncomfortable is when you walk into a bank for a loan and notice you're wearing mismatched clothes and people are staring intently at you. Uncomfortable is... well, you get the idea," he paused again, as if to organise his thoughts, then continued, "This," he motioned at them together, "Is not uncomfortable. It's just... pleasantly unexpected. And distracting. I have no idea what is expected of me in this situation, and my mind is not helping at the current moment," it was then, of course, that it hit him - maybe he should just take the easy way out. Why guess, when he could just ask? "What is it, exactly, that you want?"

Well, that was more than enough for him. He hadn't really been expecting such a blunt, straightforward answer, but then again, didn't the saying go 'Ask and you shall recieve'? Well, he'd asked, and he was pretty damned sure that he could work with what she'd asked him to do, specially seeing as how his thoughts had derailed down that wavelength long ago. Probably way before hers did, although he couldn't have put them into words quite as nice sounding as she had, even despite his versality with language.

He wasn't sure if he could give her all what she was asking her there and then. Rohan, ever the practical man, settled for what he could do. He only hesitated a moment before stretching out his arm, taking her hand in his so he could tug her gently to him, giving her time to pull away. He would have said something, but he'd been wanting to kiss her for the last twenty minutes, and he'd be damned if he was going to turn down what he thought had been a rather blatant invitation in favor of talking.

Again he waited a second, just barely enough time for Khalla to think this over again and turn around while she still could. Then the moment was gone and he lowered his head, covering her lips with his own. He recalled that people mentioned something about fireworks, or feeling like they were flying, soaring when they kissed someone they loved. Rohan would like to note there was none of that; however, the world did melt until it was just him and her, and he found that people's descriptions could not even compare to what it felt like to want someone like he did. Not just physically, but emotionally too; maybe it was because he wasn't close to that many people, or maybe it was because he'd gone for such a long time without trusting very many... he didn't know what the reason was, but he knew then and there that this was what he wanted.

He withdrew when he felt himself short of breath, but he didn't pull away, instead choosing to lean his forehead against her. It meant that he couldn't really look into her eyes without it being sort of awkward, but the physical contact was a fair enough trade at that moment in time, "I need you," he managed, and he sounded so sincere it was probably almost pathetic in a way, "I'm afraid, however, that I'm not a vampire, despite popular opinion of my being so," he had a strange sense of humor, and it reared it's head at the strangest of times.