"How does one fall in love?" It's a genuine question from a naive mind. He can't help that he's so superficial. Both of his parents were models. They married after discovering his mother was pregnant and divorced before he was even born. There was an attempt at an annulment, but they wound up with a judge who had no sympathy for stupidity. Why they even thought they could get away with an annulment when a child was involved is beyond the comprehension of most sane people.
"What kind of question is that?" It's a genuine response from a skeptical mind. She believes that there are definitely such things as stupid questions and, to her, that one is a doozy. Her father was an engineer and her mother was a physicist. They always encouraged her to look within and beneath things... to find out how everything works. They were killed in a car accident. Some drunk driver decided the world had too many engineers and scientists.
"There has to be a process, right? It doesn't just happen." The contradiction begins.
"Sure it does. Haven't you ever heard of love at first sight?"
"Well, yeah, but that's just sort of a myth."
"Only if you don't want to believe in it." And it finishes.
He wonders about beliefs for a few moments, then decides it's not yet worth the effort in thought. "You eat dinner yet?"
She tries to remember her appetite of the last few hours, then decides her thoughts are best utilized elsewhere. "Did you just ask me out?"
"So, this love at first sight, how are you supposed to know? And how come love doesn't last forever?" These are questions the superficial are supposed to know the answers to. But he's too busy being superficial to ask her anything more relevant.
"Well, you'll feel it. Nerve impulses will fire, certain parts of your body will flush. And nothing in the universe is permanent." These are not the answers to the questions. But she's too busy looking behind the curtain to notice the drama unfolding in front of it.
"Yeah, but isn't love eternal?" The revelation begins.
"What happens when we die?"
"I don't know. Heaven. Hell. Something."
"Or nothing at all." And it finishes.
He finally decides to give beliefs dedicated thought, then quickly decides that he's attracted to this analytical woman sitting across from him. "You want to head back to my place?"
She tries to remember the last time she's had sex, then shuts it out once she remembers how turned off she was. "You're not just going to sweat on top of me and grunt, are you?"
"Are we in love?" It is a risky question from one who almost never looks beneath the surface. But he's still naive and only asks because he wants it to be true.
"What is love, anyway?" A calculated riposte from one who may not even believe in love. She finds it odd that despite the whole of human art, the concept's never been plainly defined.
"It's, you know, when two people need to be with each other." The definition begins.
"Do we need to be with each other?"
"Well, I want to."
"Wanting is not needing." And it finishes.
His thoughts are frustrated. She's confused him from the get-go, unaware that she's been playing Devil's Advocate in order to prevent another broken heart. "I want to do this again."
Her thoughts are spinning. She's certainly not in love, but she loves the feel of his body and his endless patience, as based in naivete as it may be. He's not intimidated by her. The confession begins. "So do I." And it finishes.