Falling for my creative match

I had met my match in the most unlikely of people. On face value, we were completely unmatchable: I was educated, thoughtful, seen as selfless, and family oriented. He was the opposite. His looks were grungy and careless, whereas I was polished, smart and sophisticated. There was one thing that we had in common: a creative drive and passion for what we did, although it manifested itself in different forms.

**

It was my first date in a while. I needed inspiration after hitting every writer's worst nightmare: mental blockage. Angie advised that I look on dating sites and find people who fit my characters, which I thought would be difficult based on the topic I was writing on. Afterall, you wouldn’t think it would be so easy to meet someone who fits in perfectly with a murder mystery. However, one particular profile caught my attention. He presented himself as charming, yet there was a dark, almost sinister energy about him. I thought it would be unlikely that we would match, given my stereotypical-academic look, but it seems that fate or destiny wanted us to be together, as a few moments later we were planning our date.

Angie had recommended ‘The Scarlet Candle’, a quaint little restaurant, as a venue for inspiration. The lounge area was reminiscent of a 1920’s bar and seemed like the perfect setting for a murder mystery, which was perfect for me. My match, who had not disclosed his name on the app for reasons of protection, has insisted on going to a quiet and dark venue, so the restaurant seemed a perfect fit.

It was 6pm and I waited at table 6 with a red rose on a copy of ‘Sweeny Todd’, which we agreed would be our identifier. There was a table of 6 on the far right, but other than that it was fairly empty. Feeling my head spin with worries and doubts, I rubbed my nervous hands on my thighs, feeling my black and burgundy dress. I had made an effort for the first time in months and I was going to enjoy every second of it. Even the realistic worst case scenario where he would be the most boring person on earth was not that bad, as I could always find a way to leave. Angie agreed to call me half way through the date in case I needed an escape. Ordering a glass of wine to calm myself, I took a deep breath and turned my head to the door.

The wind hissed as the dark presence made its way into the room. He was like a tall shadow, with his long, dark cloak that hung on his skeleton. His frame was hunched, as if he had the weight of the world on his shoulders. His head scanned the tables and stopped when it spotted the Ruby red rose on his favourite book. My heart was surprisingly calm despite his haunting presence.

“Hi”, the figure said. His voice was huskier than I had imagined, but also had a softness to it. “Ruby, right?”

I nodded. Gesturing to the seat opposite me as if to ask for my approval, I nodded. He was very quiet and clearly introverted. I guessed that he also had not been on the dating scene for a while, as he fidgeted with his cloak until it fit the back of his chair right.

“So what do you-“

“Are you going to tell me your -“

We interrupted each other, attempting to start a conversation at the same time.

“I will tell you my name depending on how things go. For now, you can refer to me as your date. That’s all you need to know”. Intrigued by this mystery, I compiled. Changing the topic so that he could feel more comfortable, I brought up my writing history.

As the waiter reached our table and poured a crimson glass of Merlot, I considered the plot of my novel once again. Perhaps this man might be able to help me, I thought. After all, he was creative enough to be convincingly and intriguingly mysterious. Swivelling the Merlot around in my glass, I asked what he thought the perfect crime would look like.

He looked up and I saw a glowing spark in his dark, bloodshot eyes. Although he was evidently ill-rested, his face had regained energy and life from the question, as if he regenerated. Staring deeply at the drink as if it held the secrets of the universe, the corner of his mouth smirked and he signalled for a waiter.

“Now you’re asking the right questions. First, let me get a glass of the drink that seems to induce the best thoughts”.

We spent the rest of the dark engrossed in the plans for the perfect crime, drawing it out with our food as if they were the different characters in our story. We laughed and shared our wicked ideas that would get us questioned if anyone around us paid attention to what we were discussing. Time and space were truly relative, as we were completely oblivious to the earth hours that had passed until the waiter interrupted us to say they were closing.

It was such a perfect date that I completely forgot that although I felt I knew everything about him, I really knew nothing: his name, his age, what he did for a living, where he lived. As our spirits calmed down, I hesitated before asking him what I wanted to know. Why was he so secretive? What did he not want me to know? Was it really so bad that it might change the way I saw him? As if he could read my mind, he looked up to the stars and told me to ask him what I wanted to know.

“You had a lot of well thought out ideas and I do not doubt that that was not the first time you had considered the perfect crime’. He nodded and smiled quietly, as if laughing to himself. ‘Who are you?’

Gently placing his hand on mine and stroking it in circles with his hand, he reassured me that we could trust each other and asked that I should never share what I was about to tell him. Perhaps it was that he was opening himself up, or maybe I was enchanted, but I agreed without a second thought. No matter who or what he was, I could handle it as I knew that I had met my match in him.

“My name is Jack and I used to work with the secret service in a department that the public can never know about. I was responsible for removing any individual threats to the State or important people in the government. We were disbanded 2 years ago but I still think about everything I did and all the lives I stole. I played the minion of someone who wanted to play God and we will both get away with it because of their power. I can’t -”. Noticing that he was shaking, I stopped him and wrapped my arms around him, attempting to ease and protect his spirit. I understood what he was saying. I thought about how Angie would tell me to run, as he was probably a ticking time bomb that could attack at any second, but I could not care. He was perfect for me and could be my muse. I made a vow to myself that I would continue to protect him for the rest of my life and help him heal. I wanted him, no matter what. Our souls matched and our ideas aligned. Life with him would always be straight forward, even if the challenges we faced were rough.

Wiping the tears from his rough face, his eyes glimmered with a new found hope.

“Who knew a glass of wine could lead to something so great?”, he laughed.

We spent the rest of our time forgetting the world around us, intertwined in eachothers arms and discussing all the theories of the universe.