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He had no idea how long he'd been there already, but he really, really wanted the whole ordeal to end. Not for the first time that afternoon, Rohan raised his arm to look at his watch. It read 3 o' clock, which meant he had at least several more hours of torture to endure.

His general appearance had degraded from immaculate to.... Rohan-like after the ceremony; his nervous habits had caused him to tug at his tie, the collar of his shirt, and well, just about every piece of garment he could neurotically reach for or otherwise mess up. His hair was thankfully, still managing to stay up in the semi-pony tail that he'd been forced into that morning.

He'd been pushed, shoved and dragged all morning in an attempt to get him ready for the wedding, and while it had succeeded... well, the results were slowly fading away. It was probable that by the end of the reception, the man would look like he'd come out of the depths of the Crystal academy library.

The only redeeming feature of this whole ordeal (in Rohan's opinion anyhow, even if he would have been hard pressed to admit to it out loud), was that he was not alone; Khalla had actually gone through with her promise and allowed him to drag her into what he deemed as hell with him.

Technically, there were a bunch of other people inside that gym too, but he'd managed to retreat to a corner of the large room in hopes of minimizing contact with them. He'd never done well with crowds and it showed on his face. He was ignoring the music, ignoring the food, ignoring the dancing and trying not to focus too much of his attention on the girl beside ******** his life.

"Not... really, no," he said as he looked his watch yet another time. He frowned at it, glared at it, shook his wrist, and glanced up at the large clock that hung from one of the walls in the large gym, as if he couldn't really believe that just a couple of minutes had passed since he'd last checked. He could've sworn it'd felt like an hour. Damnit. Another glare was shot, this time directed at the clock on the wall.

If a grown man could look like he was sulking up a storm... Rohan did, "Watch me," was his childish retort before he realized that he had, for all effect, dragged the poor girl here, and he was turning her evening into rather an unpleasant one. Not Ursula, not someone else, but him. The notion caused him to sight in defeat before he turned to look down at her, "I don't do well with crowds," he admitted, though it was said a bit under his breath (as if he needed to - the music was loud enough he could have been having a private conversation with her and no one would have heard), "I don't even do very well in single encounters, Khalla. I feel overwhelmed, and if I stay here, I might avoid running into certain people I would rather stay away from," a pause followed the words, "And I can't dance," there, he'd said it.

"I'm sorry I dragged you here," again, he reached up, though this time it was to wrestle with his tie once more; he felt it was TOO tight, or maybe it was just that he really, really needed a break and get out of that gym. Or maybe he just needed to stop worrying about everything, period. Or maybe all three; he couldn't decide.

Had Rohan known he'd probably picked the only girl in the world whom would rather try to force him out of his self-constructed safe zone and into the... chaotic, wild world of the wedding reception, it was probable he would have chosen to stay home. Sick. In bed. Or preferably under the bed, using some pillows to build a fortress around it. That sounded like heaven right about then.

Her voice dragged him out of his reverie and he focused his attention back on her just as she placed her hand on his arm. It was pretty much a miracle the man didn't jump three feet into the air; in fact, had her words not previously snapped him out of his thoughts, Rohan would have likely flinched away from her. As it was though, her words had given him some sort of warning, and all he had to offer was a sharp intake of breath. As she spoke again, his eyes darted towards the exit, apparently evaluating how much it'd cost him to make a dash for it; he probably would've, too, had her hand not stayed on his forearm, "Uhhhh..." apparently he HAD been planning on standing there the rest of the afternoon, because her words made him squirm a tad. That, and he had no idea what exactly he was supposed to do to 'show her a good time'. He hadn't really... been 'out and about' much. The whole situation was quite frankly, out of his realm of expertise.

Khalla was, however, determined and soon enough her grip on his forearm became a tug; apparently 'showing her a good time' meant moving towards the crowd and dance floor. Rohan was swiftly deciding he did not, in fact, like this. Despite his thoughts though, he was pretty much allowing her to drag him, a mildly nervous snort of amusement escaping him, "You'd be surprised," he said, "Specially if you get between them and whatever it is they want at that moment; be it a sandwich or a sale at a store," amongst other things which he was leaving unsaid, "I'm not good at opening up, Khalla," a pause, "I'm not a flower," another pause, "I'm not dancing," this from the man that was being quite easily dragged onto the dance floor, following her without so much an ounce of resistance.

He was torn between liking and NOT liking the look she was aiming at him.

Of course he wasn't a flower. In fact, given his... extracurricular activities, he was probably the farthest thing from a flower ever. Not that he could voice that much at that given moment though. Instead, Rohan offered Khalla a suffering look but allowed her to keep on dragging him towards the dance floor, avoiding people as they snaked their way through the crowd.

As she poked her finger at his chest, he couldn't help but redirect his gaze down at it, staring almost dumbly as she spoke to him. Only half of what she was saying managed to register within him, but it still made him blink in confusion , as if he didn't quite know how to answer her words or how to handle the situation at hand. Since he had no idea what to offer her in return for her compliments (he wasn't particularly used to receiving them, though that might've been more due to the fact he spent so much time actively trying to be alone than anything else), he simply gaped at her stupidly.

He wasn't given much time to accommodate to what was going on; no sooner did the girl stop talking that she stepped forth, drawing uncomfortably nearer to him. This time though, he did not pull away (if only because he apparently thought that would've been a bad idea on his part, given the fact she was trying so very hard to 'help' him out). He was still caught up in her breaching his personal bubble, so when her command to give her his hands came, he blinked awkwardly at her, "I really don't think this is a good-" as she directed his hands to her hips, Rohan snapped his mouth shut. He still thought this wasn't a particularly good idea, but something in his mind was telling him that he was being an idiot and should simply shut up and enjoy this while it lasted.

Deciding that his inner voice had a point, Rohan directed his attention into following her instructions, albeit slightly awkwardly, "Yes," he finally told her as he grabbed her hand, and though it didn't look like he was going to pass out from an anxiety attack, it did look like he felt the temperature of the room had raised several degrees - at least for him. Which he found utterly unfair, might he add, seeing as how Khalla seemed perfectly fine with this, "I've got two left feet, Khalla. I'm a horrible dancer," or he thought he was anyhow. He'd battled senshi before, but he doubted those skills came into effect in this sort of situation.

Humiliation was the furthest thing from his mind at that very moment; his thoughts were more along the lines of 'She's sort of a tad too close' and 'I think that small strand of hair is particularly near her mouth, which is for some reason horribly distracting' not to mention 'Should I reach out and push it out of the way or...?'. In a way, it was indeed her fault he was feeling that way, but surely not for the reasons she thought - he rarely interacted with people outside a very professional atmosphere (or a more violent, dark atmosphere), so the situation was uncomfortably new for him.

As she spoke, he caught he'd been staring at the annoyingly distracting strand of hair and swiftly snapped his gaze away from it and back to her eyes, hoping against all hope he hadn't been caught. At least, he knew her well enough to know she was probably too polite to point out what he'd been doing even if she HAD noticed, which was mildly reassuring, even if it did nothing to help calm his nerves (after all, she was still probably a tad too close, and there was nothing he could do about it), "No, really," he told her, "It can be that bad, trust me," as she shook her head, his attention was once more drawn to the strand of hair that peeked from the side of her head, and he soon enough decided it was the most treacherous strand of hair he'd ever seen in his life. Just as he decided that, the girl drew even closer to him, and Rohan decided he was probably better off shutting his brain down and going with the flow. Why question it? It was only making his head hurt. Besides, once he got used to it, the slow, rhythmic movements were oddly... comforting and peaceful.

Thus so, he slowly (very slowly), started to loosen up, allowing her to indeed take the lead, though it was no longer clear if he was doing so because he couldn't dance, or because he didn't quite trust himself. He wasn't the best dancer in the world, granted, but he was actually managing to avoid stepping on her and seemed to be catching onto how she wished him to move. At that point, it was pretty clear that he wasn't really paying mind to what was around him - in fact, it was safe to say a youma could have crashed the place and he'd not have noticed it. As she spoke again, he found himself unable to look away from her smile; the fact that she was smiling at him and only him distracting him from her actual words, "No," he murmured finally, "I think I got the hang of it."

Unfortunately, he couldn't really tell her that it was likely he had avoided stepping on her more due to mild experience in combat than any actual dancing talent. After all, something told him saying such a thing would not only be an instant turn-off, but it would likely scare her into getting some sort of restraining order against him. Instead, he managed to snort slightly, "Believe away," a pause followed his words before he continued, obviously trying to figure out some sort of excuse for not managing to screw up the dance royally. He settled with the first thing that crossed his mind, "Beginner's luck," which was probably partially true. That plus the fact her proximity had him hyper-aware of her and was in turn helping him focus on the dance, blocking out all external annoyances, like the people around them, and even the music at some points.

For some odd reason, the fact she was smiling at him... pleased him, and he couldn't quite put his finger on just why that was so. He'd seen people smile before. Heck, he'd been smiled at before, and yet there was something captivating about the fact he knew he was the sole reason she was smiling at that moment, that his dancing with her was eliciting such a reaction from her, and that it was all him and his to keep.

Rohan didn't feel like he was being dragged out of his shell; quite the opposite. He just felt like she'd come into it to join him, for some odd reason, and while it had been uncomfortable at first, it was a surprisingly welcomed feeling. Her voice dragged him out of his thoughts and back into reality, and he was pleased to note she sounded as lulled as he felt; turn about was fair play, he figured, "No, not bad," he agreed as he moved and slowly allowed himself to be lost in the moment, "Not bad at all."

He could get used to this.