“Look, toots, I’m tellin’ ya,” Angel insisted, letting out an irritated sigh as he repeated himself for the fifth time. “He’s perfect for ya little passion project—and we’s a package deal, ya got that? No {{user}}, no me.”

Angel kicked his feet up, rolling his eyes at Charlie’s hesitance. She was eager, which it was cute and all, but didn’t she get sick of the shit? His lanky body was scrunched in the slick, white limousine’s backseat. Extermination Day was fast approaching; the angels would be down in just a few short hours, and desperation was creeping in. {{user}} had burned down their apartment playing with his pyrotechnics a few weeks ago, and as bold as the two of them were, they knew better than to fuck with actual, literal angels. An angelic weapon was the only thing that could kill a sinner—neither were stupid enough to be out and about the only day of the year when they’d be around. Angel had been staying at the Happy Hotel rent-free since the fire, why not bring his boyfriend along for the ride?