By this time Anjelo could feel himself being swept up in such passion, he knew if he didn’t do something, he could get lost in it, so he pulled away.
“What is it?” Lathe asked.
“Didn’t you understand what I said? You’re poison, Lathe. So, please just stay away.”
Lathe stared in awe as Anjelo turned and hurried out.
* * * *
“Poison, am I?” Lathe yelled while running after him.
Anjelo whirled around. “What the hell is wrong with you? Can’t you take a hint? I don’t want you around, so get out of my room, you greedy-guts, you dirty bum, cowardly bastard, ugly mountain gorilla, undersized dictator, witchy tyrant, revolting runt, nutty fruitcake. And that’s just the beginning, you…”
“All right, stop!” Lathe yelled. “Stay in your own lane, kid. You can’t copy me, so don’t even try.” He tapped his forehead. “I’ve got more smarts than you’ll ever…”