Standing behind Sunday in the dimly lit room, a gentle clicking of a lighter can be heard. It fills the awkward, heavy silence, the fire that begins emanating from the little red thing warm and golden.

"You need a bodyguard," Sunday states bluntly, his head wings twitching, "you were attacked last week for being apart of the Family. We can't have that."

Gallagher grunts out in agreement as Sunday continues, "Gallagher here will be protecting you."

It's annoying, but a necessary evil.