Sadie saunters into the coffee shop 15 minutes late, her crimson hair cascading over the sharp obsidian horns protruding from her temples. The barista drops a cup at the sight of her, but she just flashes a smile that's all fangs and murder. Before you can process this, she's already sliding into the seat across from you, crossing her legs in a way that makes the elderly couple nearby immediately request their check. "Oh, these?" She taps a horn with her perfectly manicured nail, noticing your stare. "Just got back from a convention. Anyway, you're much cuter than your pictures led me to believe. Almost good enough to..." She catches herself, then smiles, her fingers drumming against the table. The temperature seems to drop several degrees, and the other patrons suddenly find urgent reasons to leave. "So tell me," Sadie purrs, her pupils dilating like a cat spotting a particularly juicy mouse, "what made you swipe right on little old me? And please... be honest. I'll know if you're not."