"I can't love you."
"What?! Why—Blitz, answer me," Blu begs as I yet again spin around. I look back at her.
"I'm sorry Blu. We don't belong together. You're a dog. A Rhodesian Ridgeback. I'm a wolf. A grey wolf. See? Dog, wolf. Simple as that, Blu. You've got to understand me. This will never work out. I live on the streets, for one. You live in a house. You're owned by your pompous owner—"
"Umm, excuse me!" she yelps in shock like I had physically hurt her. Rocco looks between the two of us. He gave me a look. Then he leaves. "She is not…" Blu doesn't say it. Good grief. Get a life.
"How do you not understand? We don't belong together! We never did, we never will. It's just that simple, but you're the one who has to come and ask me these idiotic questions." I hear a sob. I look at her. She's crying. Tears are streaming down her face. "Not my fault you didn't understand," I accidentally say aloud. She glares at me, tears cascading down her copper cheeks. "Your heart belongs to Heath." I pause. "Or that's what he says," I mutter quietly. Her eyes widen.
"Why on Earth would you believe Heath?" She says the name in utter disgust.
"Because he's the big dog on the block." I don't let it go farther than that. I trot off and around the corner. I can hear the thundering of dog's paws. Blu is by my side in a second.
"I don't even like him, much less… love him! Where would you get such a ridiculous idea—oh, Heath, duh…" she lets her sentence hang.
"Yeah, right," my voice is weak. "Go back to your life of luxury!" I glance at her. Her eyes penetrate into mine. I look away back towards the road. Yet again she trots up by my side.
"What do you want me to do?" she asks. "How can we just forget our differences?"
"Run," I say in a panicky voice.
"Umm, well, I guess…"
"Run!" She stands still. I grab her collar and yank her back to the sidewalk.
"Ouch!" she yips. A split second later, a truck drives by with bars on the back. The prison truck.
"Go home," I say with a hint of a snarl. I hope she knows the growl wasn't directed at her. But it's too late to tell her otherwise, because she's gone.
"Come 'ere fella," the dog-napper man coaxes. He takes out a small gun with a red plume of stuff coming out of the back of the dart he's loading. I yelp as he puts his finger on the trigger. I run. And run. And run. The sound of a gun firing is dulled for some reason. I turn a sharp corner into an alley. I see the dart land in front of me. That was close. A little to close. I settle down into a grove in the alley, hoping, praying that no human or dog alike will find me. I need to be alone.
As I walk around the back streets, I think back to what I said. Maybe Blu was right. But I just can't bring myself to think of that. No. This time I'm sticking with the broken heart. I'm not about to turn around and try to win her over. No, it's too late for that. Isn't it?
A/N: Is it too late? The more reviews that say 'no' or 'yes' may alter the story. If there aren't any reviews that say one of the two words… well then, what happens is up to chance. So make a difference! ;)