It's his turn to scoff, out loud as it were, leaning his head back against he rail and looking up at the sky.

"Yes," he says. "He's... well, he's an angel. Literal angel, with the wings and the holy fuckin everything. Straight out of the actual Bible, except not like that at all." It's not exactly a secret, and if she doesn't need to talk about her, well, apparently he really needs to talk about him. Lucky Mako. "The archangel Gabriel, he really likes candy and animals and bad movies and... me."

He dips his head back down, studying the grain of the sidewalk. "I guess that's the angelic thing to do, pick up strays, take care of them. But I'm not a stray to him, I'm like... well, he... he cares about me, really, as a person, and I don't... deserve it. At all. You know what I... Does that make sense?" He glances at her, and he's already sinking in his pit of anxiety so all the abrupt oversharing doesn't really add much at this point, but looking directly at her is too much, and he looks away just as quickly.

"My point is," he says with a faint air of humor, "he wants to meet you and he's a really nice guy, but this dinner might be a little weird."