He opened his mouth, and with food in his mouth proclaimed, "Really? Above the sink? Who puts their dishes above the sink? Really, Gwen." He seemed to know I was there before he saw me.

My legs trembled, but I had the strength to move. I find it was more my desire to bite back that gave me the will to face him.

"What do you have against my dishes? What's so wrong about storing dishes above the sink? Why are you in my home in the middle of the night?" I found myself whisper yelling at him from two feet away. I angrily pointed to the crumbs on the counter.

"And why did you make such a mess? Are you a fucking five-year-old? Is it so hard to use a napkin- there's a towel right there! Did you kill those people? Also, who eats peanut butter plain? There's jam in the same cupboard where you found the peanut butter." I was a mess of words and thoughts, but Zeke seemed to follow.

"I like plain peanut butter. Those guys were demons, remember? I told you this. I was going to clean up after myself. And I happen to be closer to five millenniums old." He leaned against the countertop and faced me with a sly grin.

It didn't do him too many favours though. He had crumbs around his mouth. What used to be fear, turned to hysteria, to anger. This giant freak (who wore really tight shirts like, congratulations you have pectorals but can you control your nipples?) somehow broke into my house, and he was talking of impossible things, and he had enough nerve to talk back to me.

"What the fuck is that supposed to mean? Should I call the cops? How are you in my house?" He sheepishly brought the sandwich up to his face to hide his face. His eyes seemed to glow, and I wondered if he was about to melt my brains out. I eyed the knife blocks a few steps away from me.

"Okay so, I kind of never left. I've just been following you around since the restaurant. I was just too tired to take my mystic form, and you can't eat in that form anyway. So, yeah, my name's Ezekiel- Zeke for short- nice to meet you. Usually, I erase poor bystander's memories but your brain is so fucked up that for some reason it didn't work." He puts his hands together like he's praying, with the sandwich in between, "So, yeah, I'm just chilling waiting for my brother Gabe to show up because he cleans up my messes. That's what's up."

I was dumbfounded. Apparently, the cutie was delusional. For some reason, the only thing I could think of doing was yelling for Amanda. Maybe she would behave rationally. I opened my mouth- but Zeke grabbed the back of my head, and covered my mouth with his other hand. I bit him, but he just grimaced and shook his head.

"Shut up. Do you really want to wake up your friend? Then I'll erase her memory and put her back to bed and you'll feel embarrassed." I was outraged. I knew I should've been afraid, but I wasn't. I wanted him to leave, like an itch. I was shaking in his grasp.

"You know I loved that encore in the shower." He eyed me with a knowing look. I didn't want to understand what he was alluding to, but it hit me like a brick. He was trying to suggest that he wasn't lying, and more importantly that he heard me singing earlier. The room was spinning. His eyes were still glowing.

"I don't understand." He let me go, but I felt his touch on my skin after it left. He was absurdly warm. I didn't like how I felt comfortable with him so close, considering everything that just happened. By comfortable I mean I didn't feel immediately threatened, but I wanted to throw him out a window.

"Sorry, babe. I'm the real deal, the flappy bird from above. That's an angel if didn't catch that. Really, I just want you to go the fuck away." Just as he finished speaking, I noticed movement beside him. Another guy just fucking appeared.

"Can I help you?" He was a tall blonde, perfect skin just like Zeke, but he seemed more down to Earth. It was starting to sink in that I wasn't dreaming. Or at least it was harder to convince myself that I was. I assumed this was his brother, Gabe, because honestly whomst the fuck else could it be.

"Ezekiel, why have you not cleared this human and left?" He spoke like he was at a TED talk. I was already done with his shit and he had spoken a maximum of ten words. I didn't appreciate how he ignored my existence and only addressed his brother.

"I'm right here." I waved my hand in front of him. What did Zeke say they were? Angels? Well, shouldn't they be a little fucking nicer? Since when am I going along with anything golden freak says? Well, if this is a delusion, isn't going along with them how you get out? Or is it the opposite? Shit, I don't know.

"I noticed." He waved his hand over my head and immediately turned to his brother.

"Problem solved. Seriously you couldn't manage something this simple. You just finished probation and already you've proven that you need to be babysat. It's not my job to fix your messes." He seemed so proud. He must have though he was the boss of everyone. I was tired of his shit. Why were they still in my house? Why hadn't I called the police yet? What do I even tell them? Do I even believe in angels?

"I'm literally right fucking here." Gabe turned to me, shook. His eyes were wide, and his mouth was slightly open. His face did this thing where it seemed he understood the situation entirely now.

"I don't understand." Or maybe not. Gabe shook his head.

"You don't understand? I don't understand!" I crossed my arms across my chest. Gabe looked at his brother, worried. Zeke looked back at him sheepishly. Both had their arms outstretched, pointing to me. I once again was ignored.

"This is a problem."

I glared at Gabe, then turned my death stare onto Zeke who started this whole thing. Couldn't they just leave me alone to sleep in my haze of denial? Gabe ran his hands through his hair and started pacing around the kitchen. I wondered how Amanda hadn't woken up yet with all this noise we must have been making. I sighed, exasperated. I was exhausted, and I just wanted to go back to bed.

"Could you guys just leave, please? Before I call the cops? I want to go back to bed." Maybe I should call a mental hospital. Didn't Zeke kill people? Shouldn't I call the police? I was too tired to deal with this yet.

"Did you tell her about our origin?"

"You mean, did I tell her 'we're angels'? Yeah, but I doubt she believes it."

Maybe they were aliens. I didn't really care at 3 am in the morning. I walked over to my front door, adjacent to the kitchen area, and opened it, gesturing to the two men to leave. They looked over.

"If I ever see you guys again, I'm calling the cops. Thanks, and good night."