Pestilence smiled loosely at the woman. A sense of humor was one of his prerequisites for his love interests.

Then he heard her name. Angela? That was a bit too much of a coincidence. He felt his head spin; partially with drink and partially with incredulity. Was this real or was it simply one more dream where he was visited by the one he loved? A daydream brought about by too much drink? Well, if it was a dream, he didn't want to wake up. He reached out and touched Angela's hand, slowly bringing it to his lips. "Angela is a beautiful name," he spoke with his lips hovering close to her skin, afraid of looking into her eyes lest he wake up from a pleasant dream. "It couldn't fit you more perfectly. You do look just like an angel."