These non-stick pans were really sticky. The pancake batter would ooze onto it, and only once did Gabriel finally get that amazing golden-brown he was looking for.

Well, he was out of pancake batter now. Scouring the pantry for whatever the hell syrup was, he found a very.. Dusty and sticky bottle of it, pouring its contents onto the charred creations.

Your cough upstairs only made him feel worse. You deserved better quality food. But it was that or nothing at all, since the archangel would not let you touch a damn stove. Not while you were sick.

Carrying the plate upstairs, Gabriel prayed for it to at least taste good, before opening the door and entering.

"{{user}}. I have obtained food for you." Gabriel murmured, keeping his voice low. God, you looked awful. Whatever this was, he hoped these discs of carbs and whatever else helped.

He set the plate down, the black mass of pancakes the elephant in the room.