Oz spent the next week rather casually, just going to the bathroom and outside for more boldness and fun, and talking to Damien more. It was smooth sailing until the date, that's when everything turned on its head.

Damien suggested dinner and a movie, with a little chaos, which sounded fun. Cause some mayhem, kill some people, just stuff nightmarish creatures usually do on a date. 

"So, what place are we burning to ash?" Oz asked, raising an eyebrow.

"The one fancy restaurant nearby." Damien chuckled. "Where else are we going to have a dinner date?" 

"Really? The fanciest place I've gone to is Red Lobster." The shadow boy responded.

"No kidding?" Damien furrowed his brows.

"Nope." Oz sighed.

"Well, you are going to need to take some evidence of this to show off to the rest of your friends. That you got a date with the prince of hell, and that you're going to the fanciest restaurant in town, mainly because it's made of really expensive wood that is fun to burn, but still." The demon replied.

"So, do you want me to take pictures because you know if you do, you'll lose them with the phone in the flames?" The personification of fear asked.

"Well, you know how to read between the lines." Damien chuckled, punching the other in the shoulder playfully. 

Oz felt like he was where he belonged, until he saw Damien's wrist. It had a simple "ILY" on it, which meant Damien was taken. Oz was being a home wrecker, he wasn't the one for Damien, this was just a simple fling. It chipped the eldritch horror's heart, but he went on.

The two had arrived at their location, matches in their pockets, gasoline in the demon's bag, ready to go. They got their seats and ordered some food. 

"I suggest you start taking pictures now, because in a couple minutes this place won't be standing." Damien said, flicking his tail to the side.

Oz pulled out his phone and got a couple pictures of the restaurant, sending some to social media, before turning to Damien and taking a couple more, he sent most of these to the inter-webs as well, captioning all of them with his proud pun of "Doesn't my date look devilish?".

Soon, their food came, and after taking a bite of the dry food, they both pulled out their matches, Oz wondered if the cooks trying to kill them from how bad the food tasted. Damien and Oz set fire to their matches, tossing them onto the food, and just as they expected, the desert of meat went up in flames. The entire restaurant enveloped in screams, and then fire. Luckily Oz and Damien weren't flammable, so they simply strolled out of the restaurant, holding hands. Bad news was, the cops were coming, so Oz and Damien couldn't stay around.

"Well, wanna go to hell?" The demon suggested, smirking as usual.

"Does anyone?" Oz scoffed.

"Some people, and us right now, if we don't want to spend the rest of our date in jail." Damien shrugged, pulling them both down into the ground, to hell.

The two stood outside a large mansion, one in a wine red color. Oz went to the door and opened it to go inside, only to be stopped by a bucket of blue liquid splashing all over him.

"Really?" Oz huffed, hearing Damien laughing behind him. Oz was completely soaked in whatever liquid was above the door. It gave him a slight tint, but it was hardly noticeable. It must have had food coloring in it. Someone stuck a bucket of blue water above the door to the kings of the underworld's mansion. It sounded like the beginning to a long, dragged out joke.

The smaller turned around, ready to call Damien immature, until he saw the demon, completely purple. "What are you laughing at, Barney?" Oz chuckled, crossing his arms. Damien stared at the boy in confusion for a minute. "Why are you purple?" Oz asked. The demon looked down at his arms, finding them to be a violet.

Damien watched the way his arms moved, as if checking they were attached to him, before giving Oz another glance. "That water was blue, right?" The prince of hell asked.

"Yeah." Oz raised a brow.

"Let's go inside, now." Damien ran forward, taking Oz's hand, before recoiling back. "Ow, that burns." Damien flinched. 

"Really, it's just water." The personification of fear shrugged.

"No, it's holy water. This must have been another assassination by slayer or something." The demon rolled his eyes. This didn't seem like slayer though, Oz knew. She always went in for the kill, and never left it to the chance that Damien opened that door, she liked to kill her targets herself, even if she had be unsuccessful so far, maybe she decided to try a new strategy? "You need to clean that off yourself immediately." 

"Fine, where's the bathroom?" Oz sighed.

"Down the hall on the left, across from my room. I have to go in the other way, since I can't fly over that." Damien practically hissed at the liquid covering the entrance.

Oz walked right through, following Damien's direction and eventually ending up at the bathroom. Oz grabbed some of Damien's clothes, hoped they fit, and took a shower. Oz emerged in a t-shirt and some basketball shorts, feeling uncomfortable with taking Damien's clothes without asking. 

The pitch black creature wandered into Damien's room to find the prince in his usual color,his arms were lightly smeared with black and blue, as if from smudged ink, and the room smelled like alcohol. "What's that smell from?" Oz asked, always ready to drink.

"The rubbing alcohol I used to get the ink off." Damien sighed.

"How are you doing that, I thought you couldn't take off writing your soulmate sent you?" Oz inquired.

"You didn't write it. How come you never wrote anything back other than "HI"?" Damien furrowed his brows.

"What are you talking about, how could I write to you? I don't have a soulmate." Oz asked.

"I turned purple when you got blue on you. We have to be soulmates. Why didn't you say anything?" Damien responded.

"I didn't see any messages." Oz explained.

"What do you mean you didn't see my messages, they were there in big, bold, black i-" Damien cut himself off, then started laughing. Oz scooted away from the hysterical man. Oz waited for Damien to stopped cackling, to say anything.

"What are you laughing at?" The pitch boy asked. Damien simply got up, a smile still on his face, grabbed a bright, green, gel-pen, and scratched it across his own arm. Oz looked down to see two letters form on his forearm, "HI".

"Apparently, I've been writing in black ink and it doesn't show up on your skin." Damien wheezed out.

"You're kidding." Oz glared. Had that really been the case.

"Nope. Sorry, Ozzie." Damien chuckled.

"I've spent twenty-one years with no writing, because you couldn't find a pen that was another color!" Oz shouted, feeling done with the world.

"I wrote in blue too, but it must have been too hard to see. Well, it's good to see our dating thing worked out." Damien smirked.

"Did- this really happened? Are you kidding me! Does the world just like to torture me? I go years thinking I don't have a soul, but then I find out, my bum of a soulmate has just been writing in colors too close to my skin tone!" The boy paced back and forth, talking to no one in particular.

Damien let the smaller burn himself out, watching him pace. Eventually, the pitch colored boy dropped next to the bed, onto the floor.

"Need some help up?" Damien laughed.

"No, I want to die on the floor." Oz complained.

"We're in hell. You can't die in here." The demon smarted off.

"I will come up there and fight you." The smaller declared.

"Bite me." Damien taunted.

In a second, Oz was on the bed, pining Damien down by the arms. Oz pressed where his mouth would go to Damien's lips. The prince turned even redder, as Oz waited there, just pressing the skin together. After a few seconds, Damien felt actually lips press against his. The pitch colored boy with a new mouth bit his soulmate's lip. Oz pushed what seemed to be a tongue into Damien's mouth, causing the one beneath to jump. Oz pulled back, setting Damien's arms free, his lips still on his face.

"How was that?" Oz flirted, wiggling his eyebrows. His lips moved along, and his voice sounded slightly clearer and deeper.

"You have a mouth." Damien stated.

"Yeah, I have to mimic someone else's though, and I can't keep it up forever." Oz shrugged. "It's hard to reshape my body, so usually I don't give myself a mouth. And plus, I don't have to press my face to someone else's everyday." 

"With me, you're going to." Damien smirked. "I get to kiss you all day." Damien sat up, pulling Oz down to meet his face. 

"I wouldn't be opposed to that." Oz murmured in between heavenly kisses from the demon.