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[@Feisty-Pants]
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[i]Huh.[/i] Terell internalized, [i]She cute.[/i] There was something holy about her which made him shutter inside, not that he was afraid of her, rather that unbeknownst to Terell, all sinful men shuttered before angels. It wasn't so uncommon to see such a thing in this city, not with talking animals and people who could shoot lasers from their hands and eyes, but her mere presence livened a brief moment of clarity; a clarity that crept itself up his spine; why was he feeling like this? Lest he let silence assume control of the conversation, he spoke up,

"Uhhh... What you mean 'wrong'? Can't be wrong. Got a order fah somebody at this address. Mister uhhhhhhhhhh. . ." Terell fumbled around with the bag and assumed a number of awkward hand motions and level changes before he found what he was looking for. "man, can' nobody read this!" he scoffed, final.

Terell peered over her shoulder. When his eyes lay on the heavy, old-school design of the interior, he was struck with brief admonishment. His gaze returned to the woman in front of himself.

"Nice church. Also, is that how y'all churchfolk greet somebody? 'What is it', pff. Thought y'all was all 'bout kindness and politness an' all'at. You want this or nah?" he raised up the bag of Chinese takeout after he finished, a quizzical flare stuck to his gaze. Part of him wondered why she was the only person in this place during the middle of the day--was it even Sunday? He couldn't remember; he spent most of his days in a musty kitchen.