It was infuriating the number of times she had to remind him that she wasn't in need of his help, that she wasn't offering herself to him so she could be taken care of by him. That she wasn't...whoring herself to him.
"Christopher, I'm no charity project of yours." She repeated again, her voice acrid and tart.
"I didn't—"
"And neither am I your whore."
"I never said you—"
"You never said I was, but you imply it every step of the way."
"Will you stop interrupting me?" he barked, now furious and mad with rage.
"You're the one interrupting me!" She fired back, her rage riding along side his. She pulled the sheet to protect herself and keep her body composed, because this wasn't the time to falter or cower. Not when she was fighting for her dignity.
She stared at him right back in the eyes, fire burning in her eyes just like his.
