Compatibility

"Yours was ... a truly original dating profile," he said (making direct eye contact). "Thank you," she responded (meeting and holding his gaze). "I've received some ... interesting attention." "I'm sure," he affirmed, raising his eyebrows as he set his coffee cup down, "what with all of the questions about dark tendencies, personal atrocities, and the path of destruction laid out behind you; none of that is for the meek." "Intentionally," she commented. "It's rare to find someone who is seeking companionship based on ... well ... the form a person's evil takes," he added. "That we're filled with glee and hope and merry, merry sunshine is a ridiculous given," she whispered, glancing around the cafe. "We are always trying to be noble, shoving an ocean of rage and delirium down, down, down into our depths so that it will never amount to anything more than a noxious fart. I want to know who you are when the wheels come off." "For true compatibility," he sighed, leaning forward to take her hand (his blue eyes turning red). "For durability in the heaven and hell of it all," she confirmed, feeling her pulse race and the blackness inside of her quicken.