~WILLOW~
My hands are over my ear. I couldn't listen to any more of this. I was right; he did hate me.
How could someone being perfect be a problem? And I was far from perfect. Why did he even think that I was perfect? What did I ever do to make him think that way about me?
"You're nothing like Anya, and maybe that's the problem, Willow." He whispers more to himself than me.
It was the first time I regretted asking him a question. I wasn't prepared for a response such as this one. I was not ready for the uncomfortable sensation in my heart.
"I asked you to stop." I snap.
He tries to take my hand and I pull away from him.
"Let me help you out of the jeep." He offers.
I narrow my eyes. "I don't need your help, Dante."
"Let me help you, Willow." He growls.
"I'm tired of you do
