It started with an innocent suggestion.
"Let's try a normal date," I said. Simple. Harmless.
But in hindsight, that was the dumbest, most reckless idea I'd ever had.
Two hours later...
I found myself standing outside the busiest shopping mall in the city, desperately trying to blend in while the most dangerous woman in existence stood beside me… disguised.
At least, that's what she claimed.
Her version of a "disguise"?
A massive pair of round sunglasses, a floppy sunhat that barely hid her glowing golden hair, and a T-shirt with the words "TOTALLY HUMAN. NOTHING TO SEE HERE." printed in bold across the front.
"Subtle," I muttered under my breath.
She adjusted her sunglasses dramatically.
"Mortals love a bit of irony, do they not?"
Before I could explain why that was exactly the opposite of blending in, she grabbed my arm and pulled me into the chaos of the weekend crowd.
First stop?
The arcade.
I thought, Hey, why not? What's the worst that could happen?
The worst happened.
She stood in front of the claw machine like it was her sworn enemy.
"This is a primitive device for testing manual dexterity?" she asked, peering through the glass at the adorable plushies trapped inside.
"Yeah, you're supposed to—"
Before I could finish, she pressed every button at once, the machine shuddered, and—CLANK!—every single prize fell into the drop zone.
The machine started smoking.
Kids nearby started cheering like they'd just witnessed a miracle.
And the poor arcade manager fainted in the corner.
Next, she dragged me to the cinema.
I was starting to think maybe, just maybe, this would go smoothly.
We sat in the back row of a romantic comedy.
She sat perfectly still for the first ten minutes… until the male lead tried to kiss the female lead.
"Pathetic," she scoffed loudly, loud enough for half the theater to hear.
"Could he BE any slower?" she added, crossing her arms.
I tried to shush her, but she stood up and shouted at the screen:
"TAKE THE INITIATIVE, FOOL!"
The entire theater turned to stare at us.
I sank lower in my seat, praying the ground would swallow me whole.
By the time we left, she had single-handedly caused two arcade machines to break, emotionally devastated a barista by explaining that his latte art was "a poor representation of existential suffering," and nearly started a riot in the cinema.
And yet…
As we walked home under the quiet city lights, she hummed softly, clutching one of the claw machine plushies in her arms.
Her eyes weren't glowing with power or danger.
They were… peaceful.
"So," she said, glancing at me sideways, a rare, almost shy smile curling her lips. "Was that… normal enough?"
I couldn't help but laugh.
"No, Your Majesty," I said softly. "It was a complete disaster… but it was perfect."
And for the first time since this madness began, she didn't correct me.
To be continued…