He couldn't believe what she had just said. Selfish? Him? All he had tried to do was protect her, to keep her from stepping into a building that might trap her forever.
How could she twist his concern into selfishness? The word she spoke echoed in his mind accusing, cutting deeper than he expected.
He wanted to explain, to make her see that his refusal wasn't about keeping her for himself, but about ensuring she lived. Yet the anger and hurt in her eyes made him pause, unsure how to bridge the widening gap between them.
"Call me selfish or worse… Call me selfish for trying to protect you," he said, with his voice firm, and unyielding. "I won't let you enter that building ever."
She scoffed angrily, a loud, bitter sound that echoed in the quiet. Her fists clenched at her sides, frustration simmering beneath the surface. He would never allow her in, no matter what she said or did. Every protest, every desperate plea, would meet the same unwavering wall.
