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I'll be your angel if you'll be my demon.
Together, we'll paint an elaborate scene of violence and romance (and betrayal).
I know it won't be perfect, but nothing worthwhile ever is.
We complete one another as only polar opposites can; isn't that reason enough to risk it all?
At least we'll die happy... Until we're separated at the pearly gates.
Such is the bittersweet irony of mixing heaven and hell. (Or, in our case, lover and fighter.)
I'm no more a demon than you are an angel; feathered costumes won't fool me. You think you can run with evil and stay untainted? Babe, I'm sure you're worse than any of us. Danger in a beautiful package: you're my worst nightmare and my wildest dream all the same.
Yeah, I can't bring myself to stay away from you. There's something about your smile, something that makes me feel complete. So I'll stick around, and you'll play me for the fool I am.
But it's okay; we'll paint that picture you want. We'll paint it nice and proper, with the blood of a thousand others... and then we'll top it off with our own.
Do you really think you can betray him? Do you really think we can?
This plan is worse than imperfect; it's stupid. (But at least it's worth the memories.)
You know we're going to die, right?
He'll kill me first. We're like brothers; he'll hate me more than he could hate some traitorous woman...
Yeah. That's what you are. Don't even try to deny it. You and I, we're both traitors now.
There's only one way to go from here.