Cliff's POV
I looked at the white door, shut in my face. I rubbed my face, thinking about how the conversation ended up here. Was bringing up money that bad? I thought she loved it. I just wanted to inspect her wound and make sure it wasn't infected. I used money rather than directly asking since she created a wall whenever I tried.
It was frustrating enough to get through her walls, but every time we got on friendly terms she seemed to curl back inside them. What kind of person does she think I am? Just thinking about the look she gave me before I could explain; as if I am some rotten bastard paying to touch her. I might be a bastard and a playboy, but I am not that low. Every time she puts me in the lowest pest category.
If she was going to be rude to my kindness, then be it. I have pride too. I ain't begging when I just wanted to help so you don't die. Since you are so repelled by it, then stay like that. Not my issue.
