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Panic.

Sheer, cold, mind-numbing fear had driven Rohan out of the relative security of the school grounds after talking to Ursula. The woman was sodding insane! Granted, he'd known that since quite some time ago, but now the white haired man was pondering that Ursula might actually secretly want him dead. Not only had she dragged him out of his lesson (which he had, by the way not returned to and was thus... going to get into trouble for leaving unattended and abandoned) but she had forced an ultimatum on him.

He was to either find a date to go to her wedding with, or Ursula herself would find one for him. The woman had gone far enough to point out that she would make it her day's work to set him up with her best friend, Tanzanite. Now, Rohan didn't know the amazon-like female up close and personal, but he'd seen her from a prudent distance in meetings and he had absolutely no wish to go anywhere near her. If Ursula scared him, well, Tanzanite absolutely terrified him. Thus was why he'd practically run off the moment the negaverse Captain had allowed him to; he'd snuck into the school database and had yanked Khalla's address before rushing out of the buildings, never once stopping to think of how horrible it might look for him to do so.

In his minimal defense, Rohan was a tad busy thinking somewhere along the lines of 'oh god no, anything but that' and 'she won't kill me - she will do something worse, oh god oh god why me'. By the time he reached Khalla's doorsteps and knocked on her door, he looked like an absolute mess(which wasn't all that rare). Not only that, but he looked like he was very near a strong panic attack, bordering hyperventilating, which seemed to contradict his usually composed demeanor.

He had lost it and it was obvious because he'd apparently forgotten how her last meeting with Khalla had gone. Unfortunately, he needed help, and he had no idea whom else to turn to. So thus, he knocked again and called her name out for effect.

He was just about ready to knock on the door a third time when it finally opened. Had he been a tad more lucid, he'd have noticed that Khalla hadn't greeted him with a smile (no wonder, really, taking into account he'd basically run away from her the last time he'd seen her), however, as it was, he wasn't really noticing much of anything, "She's going to kill me," he told her unintelligibly, his voice having risen a few notches from his usual pitch, showing just how damned terrified he was by whatever was haunting him, "She's going to do worse than kill me, actually."

As she moved to stand aside, he took it as his queue to rush inside her house. Had it been any other time, he'd have probably hesitated a lot more (this really wasn't proper and he really shouldn't even be here in the first place), however, in his defense, when Ursula had spoken to him, Khalla's name was the only one that had popped inside his mind, "I..." he rubbed his hands together in an attempt to catch some warmth; he'd rushed out of the school without a coat, scarf or mittens, and it was now finally taking it's toll on him.

"I need your help," he swallowed saliva, "A... friend," he hesitated to use the word but it was barely noticeable, "Ursula, she's getting married and she's told me to go to her wedding. She told me to either FIND a date to go with, or she'd set me up with her best friend," there was another pause, and before she could posibly interrupt him, he continued, "You don't understand. Her friend is the epitome of scary. The woman will kill me. I'm rather certain that if you pick up a dictionary and you look up the meaning of terrifying, her picture will be right there."

He wasn't really thinking clearly, because he'd not stopped to ponder WHY Khalla's name had come to mind in the first place. It shouldn't have, by all means. Rather than giving this notion much thought, Rohan stood there, bent over slightly from the cold, in the middle of her entrance.

It really was unlike him to be talking like that - in bursts of energy, his sentences running into each other and his babbling making little to no sense, however, he really couldn't help himself. In his defense, he thought both women were excuse enough to be terrified; one of them considered him like some sort of pet project (he'd never asked for any of that!) and could be considered pleasant when she didn't have ulterior motives (which was rarely. The other woman though, he wanted nothing to do with, because he had the suspicion she would, quite possibly, demand his head on a sphere by the end of the evening.

Also, she'd have been rather taken back if he'd told her that no, he hadn't been 'wandering'. He'd, in fact, been running, thank you very much. He was so absorbed by what he was trying (and failing, apparently) to tell her, that he didn't seem to mind the fact she was pushing and nudging him towards the heat of the fireplace. In fact, he just managed a small bewildered, baffled sound before the heat of the fire caught his attention like a light would have a moth. His fear dissipated minimally and he thrust out his hands, leaving them near the blessed flames in front of him. The snow that had been clinging to his hair and clothes had already melted, but he was still humid.

His red hued gaze came down upon her and he blinked, obviously confussed; did she knew Ursula, "Yes?" a pause, "You know Ursula?" for some odd reason this baffled him - granted, she was a secretary in Hillworth, but the idea of Khalla knowing her seemed... outrageous, "Right, well, if you know her, you know she's serious about the setting me up part. And I'm, in turn, horribly serious; the woman she wanted to set me up with is an amazon of some sort. She'll eat me. At the very least," he let out a sigh before continuing, "I need help. You were the only person that came to mind," and he was still not reading into this.

"What? Really?" he looked at her again, and now that his mind was slowly (ever so slowly) ebbing away from the panic that had been gripping him, his powers of deductions were also slowly returning. Granted, he'd seen her when she'd turned up one day to their study session with the dreads replacing her usually fine, smooth hair, but he'd chosen not to comment on them. After all, his hair was a bit of a mess (a bit, as in a lot, really), so whom was he to point out she'd changed her hairdo? He'd never thought to ask her about it and had acted as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened.

However, given the way she had brushed a dreadlock and how she was now practically twitching in an attempt to not touch them as she spoke of Ursula, Rohan found himself finally adding two and two, "Oh," he said, and then, "Oooooooh..." well, that made sense, and somehow, it was something he could easily see the orange haired woman doing, "Uhhhh... does it help if I point out she consistently talks about needing to give me a makeover? Also, I think she's picking out my outfit for the wedding," no, it probably wasn't helping much, was it? Well, he had tried, to his merit, which was mildly amusing, given the fact his hands were still shacking even as he rubbed them together and thrust them towards the fire once more.

As she more or less laid down the facts he'd tried to convey to her, he nodded, "Yes," and then after he let out a sigh, "Yes, please."

He took the seat she was offering, making sure the heat of the fire still reached him and nodded at her before she vanished. He was still trying to drag his mind out of third gear by the time she came back and her question actually made him whine slightly, "Uhm, well, you see," he squirmed, reminiscence of the way he'd done so in the Tea shop, albeit a bit more agitated (which could be excused by the fact he'd almost suffered a panic attack) and tried to catch her gaze, "I was wondering if you might conciser coming to the wedding with me? Please."

After taking the mug of warm chocolate (which he seemed to approve of much better than the tea they'd shared a few days prior), he lifted it up to blow the steam away, "I figured it wouldn't," then again, Rohan wasn't actually particularly aware of just how much of mess he usually was. If someone were to have asked if he thought he was presentable on a usual basis, he'd have answered that yes, he did think so indeed, "A good cause, huh," it wasn't a question; he'd been subject to Ursula's way of pondering, but he had to admit he had no idea what had driven the orange haired woman to partake that particular bargain, "I didn't think it looked bad," he shrugged, "Different, but not bad. That's why I never commented on them..."

Her looking at him was really, really not helping, and though most of the panic had already vanished, he found himself squirming a tad again. Busying himself with staring into his chocolate and then taking a sip, he waited for her answer. After a few seconds passed and there was still no answer, Rohan risked a peek back at her and found her gaping quite openly at him. This made him wonder if perhaps he should excuse himself and make a beeline for the damned door; this was horribly awkward.

The only thing that kept him sitting on his chair was the nagging thought that Khalla was in fact, the only female he knew on a personal basis aside Ursula herself. If he left now, he was surely dooming himself to going with Tanzanite and he really, really would rather drown himself in petrol rather than subjecting himself to the purple haired woman's mercy.

When Khalla finally spoke again, he winced at the incredulity that rung in her voice, "Yes?" he said, the word coming out in the form of a question, "Please?" he added almost childishly, because honestly, he had no other way out of the problem. At least not that he could see anyhow. He was actually, however, misinterpreting her; he hadn't paused to ponder that perhaps it was Ursula that was the problem that kept Khalla from accepting. Oh, no, he had instantly jumped to the negative conclusion, as per usual, "I know I'm not particularly interesting company, but I really..." he paused and stared down at the chocolate mug, figuring he'd go for honesty, "You were the only one that came to mind when she told me that."

And then... she accepted his request and Rohan realized he hadn't planned further ahead than this moment (possibly because he was expecting her to bloody well turn him down, really). He had absolutely no idea how to proceed and so lifted his head to look up at her, relief pouring out of him in waves, almost tangible, "Thank you," he said finally.

He apparently waved off his compliment to her and turned away to look at the fire instead. It was proving to be a rather nice distraction from more pressing facts; it was due to this that he missed most of her reactions to his words, and was thus mildly surprised when he risked a peek back at her and saw her frown.

Why was she frowning? Panic bubbled right back up, and his hands gripped the mug forcefully as he stiffened, no doubt preparing himself for the the refusal he felt was coming right up (even if she HAD only just agreed to it, it didn't mean she hadn't changed her mind on things!). Her words, however, calmed the bubbling panic, which had been almost literally rising up his throat. So much so that he was forced to gulp the knock he felt there right back down before attempting a response.

Had the fireplace not been there, he would have likely pulled away as she leaned forward just a tad; as it was though, sitting in that chair, he had very few means of escape and thus he attempted an awkward smile, "If you say so," something about the way he said it hinted at the fact he had absolutely no self confidence in the matter and that he wasn't particularly sure she wouldn't grow bored with him before the wedding was over.

His chocolate (which had proved to be a rather delightful distraction) was almost finished and he looked one last time into the mug before placing it, still within his grip, on his lap, "If you think Ursula is scary, you should meet the man she's marrying."

Interestingly enough, Rohan didn't particularly feel sorry for himself (at least not usually - the panic fit he'd only just gone through was not a common occurrence in his life, thank god). It wasn't often that he thought about himself, in all honesty, which was probably why he took such poor care of his appearance; it all probably did stem from a rather severe lack of self confidence, all in all. At least where personal matters were concerned, for he liked to think he was adept at his civilian job (for the most part anyhow - there were days...), and he didn't think he was particularly lacking in his... extracurricular activities, at least not for an 'underdog'.

Despite everything though, her smile was mildly heartbreaking. Rohan couldn't, for the life of him, understand what in the world he'd done to deserve that smile. Not only that, but this time he had no possible means of escape, what with being in her home, so he didn't particularly know how to cope with it. After several moments, he decided the fire was pretty safe and turned his attention back on it; it was better than watching her smile at him that way.

A mild snort was released, despite himself at her words, and no sooner did he release it that he looked mildly taken-back by his own behavior. He thanked whatever god was out there, that he was looking at the fire and hoped the girl had not heard it; he actually did like Ursula, but it amused him that the woman had gotten so much under Khalla's skin, since he deemed her to have near infinite patience, "No," he shook his head and offered her a look, as if to emphasize his words, "No, you really can not imagine. Take it from me," he did, however, look mildly amused at her chiding herself, "I won't tell her, don't worry."

If it was an attempt at a joke, it was a rather lame one, but still, it was the intention which counted. His eyes rested on his now empty mug and he nodded, "Yes, thank you," a pause, and once more he looked mildly hesitant, "For everything."

His attention turned back down to the mug he was holding, and had he not already been blushing slightly from the warmth of the fireplace he was still sitting by, he would have turned several shades of red, "Of course," he murmured as he returned the cup to her, looking like he was mentally kicking himself for slipping and not realising she'd been asking for it.

In his defense, he'd been mildly distracted by the general... well, warmth of the situation. It was right around then that the reality came crushing down on him; not only was he imposing in her house, but he'd come there in a rush; he'd left the school AND his class without another word, and had come here. Needless to say had anyone seen or even heard of this, it'd have likely caused trouble for her (not to mention him, but at that point in time, he wasn't particularly thinking about himself).

He swiftly stood up from his chair, brushing his by now thankfully dry clothes before looking at her. He was apparently taken back by the fact she considered them friends, either never really having paused to think about it, or simply unused to the term in general, but he chose not to comment on it, possibly storing the information for later to muse on, "I should get going anyhow," after a pause, he had the decency to look sheepish, "I think I ran out of the school without so much as a word - I left a class alone," as he said this, he grimaced and ran a hand over his face, "I need to go back and fix the mess I left behind."

At least he wasn't running away blindly this time. Not really. Not rudely anyhow.

He walked himself to the door before looking back at her, "Thank you," he murmured again, "I'll... be back later," a pause, "Tomorrow, not tonight. To talk about the wedding," after another awkward pause, during which he mentally kicked himself again, Rohan slipped out of the door and back into the cold.