Zeke looked at her for a moment, before shrugging.

"Well, our café plans got cancelled unexpectedly." he said.

"So this is the replacement date." he told her with a smirk.

"And I just wanted to see how you were doing." he went on.

"I know things have been rough for you lately, to understate it." he sighed.

"But it seems like you're actually doing better now than you have in a while."

Zeke was silent for a moment.

"...well..." he mumbled.

"I..." he stammered.

"I might be able to tell you why." he told her.

"My Dad told me to tell Sharp about your recent flare up." he said.

"But... HE got that info from his brother. One of my uncles." he continued.

"I think you were visited by one of them."

"......yep." Zeke said after a bit of a pause.

"That sounds like him." he told her.

"Yeah, he's taller." he confirmed. "He's a bit taller than my Dad." he said further.

"That was my Uncle Gabe." he then informed her.

"Gabriel, to use his proper name."

"Odds are he didn't." Zeke said. "He... well, he doesn't like the world down here." he told her.

"Doesn't like people, doesn't like to give out his name, doesn't like ME..." he mumbled.

"...so this makes his actions even MORE confusing." he then said.

"Because, the way you describe him, it can't be anyone BUT him." he reasoned.

"Maybe there's something nobody knows about happening." he went on, scratching his chin.

"...regardless, I suppose I should just stop trying to overanalyse it, and we should be grateful for what he did for you."

"That in and of itself is concerning." Zeke replied.

"But... for now, I'll be grateful and happy that you seem to be doing much better than you have been in a long while." he told her.

"Seriously, you seem like a new person." he commented.

"Like a weight's been lifted off your shoulders." he went on.

"Still... seems like the flare-ups have been more common than usual..."

"...I see." Zeke muttered.

"So that's what Azazel meant when he said you told him you were on borrowed time." he said.

"I don't like it." he then said.

"I don't like that one bit." he mumbled further.

"There has to be some way to improve the overall quality of your life." he went on. "Mitigate this flare-ups, and not just counter them."

Zeke just reached forward and took her by the hand. Her non-cursed hand.

"I'm here for you." he told her.

"If anything, I'm here for you, Erica." he said.

"...we're friends. And no damn curse is going to stop that." he vowed. "I promise." he said further.

"All right?" he finished with a small smile.

"I think we all want to know." Zeke responded.

"We'll keep trying to find out." he told her. "I promise." he said.

"For now, though... let's enjoy this lunch we have." he suggested.

"And celebrate how you seem to be improving." he added.

-Meanwhile-

Erica's unwanted visitor strolled down the street, passing by people as he did so, and ignoring those leering at him with jealousy and lust. He WAS rather good-looking, but they all seemed like swine to him. Sows and swine.

He stopped at one of the most well-known and recommended hair salons in the city. They usually had appointments booked months in advance, that was how quality they were. He just smirked to himself, before stepping inside.

He had business there, and stepped up to the receptionist there.

"I need to speak with the owner."

He did NOT look impressed when he heard that. He looked about to utter some serious threats, before calming himself down and clearing his throat a little.

"Perhaps you didn't hear me." he said, leaning in close.

"Or misunderstood me." he went on.

"I wish to speak with the owner here." he told her.

"SHE is not expecting me, but I'm sure SHE has time for me." he continued, standing back up straight, and clearing his throat once more.

"If you would be so kind as to tell her I'm here. Though she probably already knows."

He raised an eyebrow when she turned and walked off, but promptly stood and followed. As he did, he looked around, seeing the various clients there, getting work done and such. He wasn't stupid, he pieced things together. Or started to, anyway.

He guessed that the one he was following was the one he was looking for. And it seemed she also worked as a stylist here, and wasn't just the owner. He could respect that... made things a lot easier for her in terms of hiding.

And the fact the 'owner' was referred to as a 'he' probably helped.

He remained silent as they walked, only clearing his throat when they walked past all the patrons and employees. It was not to force her to pay attention, however, it was merely something he did from time to time.

He hated to admit it, but he knew he had to play nice, here. He was coming to her for a service that he could not provide for himself. So he needed to play by HER rules. For the time being.