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The night was over with, as far as Rohan was concerned. He'd done his work (both paper marking and... the extracurricular star seed gathering). His patrol had gone smoothly and he'd gather a couple of seeds before deciding it was time to retreat back home and rest. He'd made it home early and had sat down to mark some papers, going as far as changing into some pajamas before doing so (in his defense, it was his damned apartment and it was HOT out, what with summer swiftly approaching). When he'd finished that, he'd grabbed himself a cup of wine, and had sat himself under the light of a lonesome lamp so he could enjoy one of the books he'd borrowed from the Crystal academy library.

Needless to say, a visit was the last thing he expected.

So when the knock came, his head raised from his book to stare at the door, a scowl clearly written across his face. In all honesty, he was half expecting to yank the door open to find Ametrine dragging Kremersite back to him, claiming he was impossible to work with and that he could keep the green haired young man. Thus, he couldn't help but 'tsk' loudly as he got off his seat and made his way to the door, yanking it with one hand while he kept his other one curled around his glass of wine, "All I asked for was for you to babysit him! He has a broken arm, how much damage can he--" he shut his mouth as soon as the door opened completely to reveal Khalla standing in the hallway.

His annoyance washed away, replaced with confusion, and then skepticism as he eyed the glass of wine for a long, hard moment before deciding that no, he had only been sipping at it. So what the hell? "Uhm..." a pause, "Khalla?" his mind had officially snapped, but he was trying to regain his bearings; in his defense, he was still in pajamas (something he had hoped not to show the girl for a long while), and she was standing in his doorframe, in the middle of the night. So obviously, his mind jumped the worst conclusion it could have, "Were you attacked?" it was probably a miracle he didn't drop the glass of wine to check her over then and there.

He, in fact, had enough sense, to grab her hand, pull her into the apartment, close the door and leave the glass of wine on the table by the entrance before trying to check her over. She looked to be in perfect health however, "Is something wrong?"

In his defense, when he'd asked Ametrine to team up with Kremersite... it had never so much as crossed his mind that the two would actually like eachother. Specially not in that way - he'd just needed someone not him to look after Creighton. The boy was a menace in missions; he rushed in without assessing the situation and made for more trouble than Rohan thought his offensive power was worth. His broken arm and the fact he rarely, if ever listened... made him someone very hard to team up with. Or so he'd thought. He'd basically been asking Ametrine a big, huge favor when he'd asked her to take Kremersite with her that night and he'd been planning on helping her out with some school work to make up for it.

Her first answer made him stiffen and narrow his eyes as he resumed his scrutiny, figuring he must've missed something; she really didn't look like she'd been attacked, but often times... appearances could be deceiving. He was so busy plotting bloody murder in his mind that the girl's next set of words caught him by surprise, "You weren't attacked?" a pause, now he was mildly lost, but against his better judgement, he decided to take the bait, "What... exactly is wrong then?" what in the world was so 'wrong' that she'd felt the need to visit him in the middle of the night?

The multiple answers that appeared within Rohan's mind were not particularly well received by him, but he waited for her to talk, regardless of the darkness of his thoughts.

He stiffened quite suddenly when she spoke again, his mouth hanging open, "Wait, what?" another, long pause, and then again once she continued, "What?!" the mental image was apparently horrifying to him, because the taller man took a step back and made a face, "I--" his mind had officially blue screened and he was trying, without much success, to reboot it back up. He lifted his hands to tell her to stop, no doubt indicating he needed a few moments to process the information he was giving her. Then, after a moment, and acting more on instinct than anything else, he grabbed her hand and guided her to the living room - in his defense, he needed to sit down.

When they arrived to the sofa, he took the moment to sit down and looked up at her, "I... uhm," he tried again, "I just asked her to look after him today, because I couldn't do it myself - I had other things to... tend to, and having him here would have caused too much of a commotion. He rarely listens to me," this didn't really explain WHY he had to look out for him in the first place, or what his connection to the Hillworth boy was, but then again, his mind was only just rebooting, "I did not instruct them to go to her dorm room, and I certainly did not imply for them to... play with eachothers hair on her bed," a pause, "Was he really letting her do that? Willingly?" he was going to have to ask Amara what she'd done to him, but first... "Khalla, this does not explain why you're here of all places, if it's rules you're so fussed up over. Not that I don't enjoy your company, but..." this was probably just as bad.

He was, in all honesty, having trouble just picturing the scene Khalla was describing, "I just.... really?" it wasn't that he doubted the blond, but that rather, that his mind had haulted somewhere after her initial explanation and he was thus having trouble going beyond that. Plus, he was trying, very, very hard to ignore the fact it was so late at night, he was wearing pajamas, and Khalla was there to see it, not to mention the fact she apparently intended to stay there.

Seeing as how he was trying to avoid thinking about the later, he focused back on his initial thoughts, "I did not know Amara was your room mate," had he known, he probably wouldn't have risked asking her to look after Creighton. But then again, looking at the bright side (at least from where he was standing), if those two got along, it probably meant he wouldn't have to partner up with the green haired tornado again, yay, hurrah! Of course... he couldn't very well tell Khalla that, because she looked distinctly upset, "In case you're wondering, and I know you're wondering - I know Creighton through Ursula. He's her cousin," technically, he'd learned that only a while ago, but it still gave him a sort of alibi for... accidentally hooking him up with Amara (oh good god, really? Just really?). Something told him this was going to be a very long night for him, and that he better take it step by baby step.

So thus, he slowly sat down on the sofa beside her, watching her as she curled up into fetal position even while sitting down, "I wasn't implying that, actually. I don't really care what anyone thinks. I also wasn't talking about rules; I was more asking for your sake. Are you actually comfortable enough coming here, in the middle of the night? Not that I... have any sort of problem," and here we go, he was focusing on exactly things he did not wish to address, but it was pretty much like trying to ignore a very big, pink elephant that rampaged through the room, "Aside from the fact you now know how my pajamas look like, and that is not particularly fair. I wasn't really expecting anyone to drop by," he didn't sound angry, or even annoyed; just mildly ashamed or embarassed.

Nope, sorry. The idea still did not compute.

Thus so, Rohan gave up trying to picture Amara braiding and playing with Creighton's hair, instead choosing to just try and picture them in the same room together, dating. It just wasn't working. He'd not really spoken that much with Amara, but she struck him as a rather dominant girl, and... in his mind, she would clash rather horribly with the green haired boy, so what the hell had happened?

He soon enough decided that he'd had enough mental torture and that he was going to forget all about it, seeing as how there was little to nothing he could do to remedy it (not that he wanted to - no more teaming up with Kremersite, hurrah!). Technically, no, it did not explain with he was a Hillworth student, but Rohan had never asked, so he didn't know the reason, "I... have no clue. But quite honestly, trying to figure it out is mental torture, so I've decided to blank out the information you just gave me and think about something else entirely. I suggest you do the same, seeing as how you look like you're going to start bashing your head on your knees, or a wall, any moment know," he reached out with his hand and placed it on the top of her head, stroking the hair almost awkwardly, and only lifted it when she changed her position.

He'd never been well versed in the art of comforting people - it had to do with the fact he... wasn't used to spending time with people, and so, all these situations were kind of new to him, "Because... oh, you know what, forget it," he looked even more embarrassed than before, but in his defense, it was reaaaaaally hard not to go down that particular train of thought. He was only human, and male, and she was hard to ignore, whether she thought so or not, "If you're not adverse to wearing something of mine, you can probably pick out a shirt and some pants. They'll... look very big on you though," he made motion to the bedroom that was just a few feet away; it was a small bachelor's apartment after all.

He didn't, in fact, notice that his patting her head had helped; by the time she'd lifted her head, Rohan's hand had retracted away from her hair. He was still unsure of how much was 'too much', and seemed to not want to overstay his welcome, "No, no it's not, Khalla," despite the bizarre nature of the situation at hand, he'd swiftly decided that if she was around, he really didn't want to spend the time thinking about Creight, or Amara, or the thought of the together.

For a moment, he watched after her, amused as she got up and went to his bedroom, only to stop and look over at him, "I wanted to see how far you'd go without my being there. You got further than I expected," which for some reason was a vaguely... satisfying feelin; it meant that Khalla was actually comfortable around him again (lord knew it had taken her a while to unwind; she'd pretty much jumped every time they touched on accident), "Just fair warning, if you think my office is bad, I would suggest you close your eyes," that said, he walked into the open bedroom; technically, the room was tindy in the sense that the bed was made, and there was no clotes around. There were, however, a few books and papers here and there in stacks. Plus, when he opened the wardrobe, and began to rumage through the diferent sections, it revealed that while he could fold his clothes just fine, organizing them in neat, color coded, or size coded piles was... not his forte whatsoever, and thus it gave off an obvious unorganized vibe to the place.

He finally pulled out another set of pajamas, though... in his opinion, they were going to look very baggy on poor Khalla, "I think is the most comfortable thing I have to offer. You might have to... work with it a bit though, but it'll get you out of the day clothes at least?" a pause followed his words and then he motioned almost stupidly towards the living room, "I'll just... be other there, and wait for you then," and that said, he exited the room and closed the door behind him.

If she intended to sleep here, where the hell was he going to sleep anyhow? The sofa wasn't exactly big enough to fit him, and he would never let Khalla take it.

Mrfttttt....

When she finally came out, he arched a brow, "You can never have enough books," sadly, his serious expression was ruined when his eyes actually landed on her. To his credit, he actually managed not to laugh, instead offering her a small smirk, which was, in fact... much more expressive than he usually was on a daily basis, proving just how much he had actually opened up you her, "I'm not a giant; you're just sort of tiny, Khalla. It's not my fault," except... she was, in fact, right in her asumption. It was much more correct to asume he was larger than the average, than her being smaller than the average.

When she stumbled, Rohan moved a bit forth, as if ready to catch her, watching when she finally collapsed on the sofa beside him, "Ridiculous was not the word I was thinking of, actually," he told her, apparently willing to keep the word he had been thinking of, a secret unless asked, "At least the clothes are comfortable?" a pause followed the words, "I'm sorry they're big. I don't have anything remotely your size," he didn't have any sisters, or ... anything. No one came to visit him, aside his team mates, and they didn't even quite count, seeing as how they'd never decided to crash for the night. Seeing as how it was her whom had breached the topic earlier, and seeing how he actually knew how much it bothered her, he let out a sigh, "If you are, in fact willing, you are welcome to the wardrobe. I'm sorry - I'm not a color code sort of person. But I know you are," he made a mild motion around him, "Don't throw any of the books away, and you're free to organize whenever you feel like it's getting to you," a pause, "I do mean it though. Don't throw my books away," it wasn't that he didn't trust her; it was just that he knew that a lot of them looked like garbage to a lot of people. He still thought of them as treasure though.

Then after turning to look away from her, he continue, "Khalla, just to sattisfy my curiosity. How do you plan on continuing this slumber party?" he noticed he was being just a touch too vague, so he elaborate, "This is a rather small, two-person sofa. And as you mentioned, I'm a giant," a ghost of the previous smirk showed upon his features again, "And I refuse to let you stay on the sofa the whole night."

"Good," he watched as she rolled up her sleeves and pant legs, managing, to his credit, to keep a mostly straight face throughout the whole procedure, "Yes well. I think I know you enough to know you're twitching deep down inside over it. I'm just letting you know that you're welcome to it; my chaos is your chaos," the living room (if it could be called that - it was a rather small apartment, and the living room and kitchen were practicaly contained in the same space), was in fact, not quite as bad as it could have been. It was obvious he'd been tidying it up not that long ago. He'd found that having Creighton and the stray cat the kept on coming back together in one room with his papers and books was... a remarkably bad, horrible idea. Thus, he had more or less tidied up the living room. Key words being 'more or less'.

"It's not bad enough now. I was forced to clean it up because I keep having a really bad mannnred guest over," almost as if on queue, there came a resounding 'meeeeeeow' from the kitchen, and a scruffy looking black cat allowed himself into the room through the window. It looked up at Khalla through it's only, healthy golden eye, the other firmly shut, missing, "Talk of the devil," he let out a sigh, though it was clear he didn't really mind the animal's company. After all, it'd helped him notice Creighton's weakness, and boy was he exploiting that weakness for all it was worth.

He waited for the girl to turn around, giving him her back before he lifted his hand, working the knotted fabric as the cat approached them. He seemed to decide Khalla was interesting enough to inspect, because he jumped up easily on the arm of the sofa and watched her stoically as Rohan worked on her hair, "You're not that tiny, Khalla. You'll wake up with a horribly sore back and neck," and she was back to being flustered, though... he couldn't really blame her; he'd already had time to be flustered over the idea, which was the only reason he was managing to talk about it now. It was a wonder she hadn't thought that far ahead. Huh, "It has less to do with you being a picky girl and... it just being unacceptable for you to take the floor," with one last tug, the scarf came undone and he ran a hand through the dreads a bit, to help them flow naturally again, "Are you scared of me?" there was a hint of myrth in his voice; technically, he knew exactly what she was thinking of. He was just bemused that he'd been there all along and that she was only just tuning into the same wavelength.