Unrooting Death

Azalea. I scowled at Dante’s back as he reached into the boot of the car and pulled out a shovel. He slammed the boot shut, turned, and stalked off without saying a word or even glimpsing my way. I muttered angrily, hurrying after him, careful not to step on slippery spots. He had left me hanging with those words. He didn’t like sharing. What the hell? I thought he was going to kiss me. Was I bitter he didn’t? Yes! Of course, I was! I couldn’t quite explain why I was fuming, but I had an inkling it was because I stupidly tried to kiss him, thinking that was where things were going. He even claimed he didn’t want to share me. Then he pulled away like I had burned him and ran for the car like a bat out of hell. What the hell else did he mean by what he said? Gah! “Wait for me,” I cried out irritably, almost losing my footing for what could be the tenth time. “I can’t see here.” That created a response from him. Not the one I liked, but it was better than nothing. He muttered a curse, spu