Hierarchy of Need [t.r]

Chapter Twenty Four

Tom began to stand up, his world tilting at dangerous angles due to his apparent concussion.

Bolting for the door, Delilah tugged at the handle for a moment before she remembered he'd slammed it shut with wards. Throwing numerous spells at the blasted piece of wood, it wouldn't budge.

Getting up to his feet, Tom held his aching side and leaned heavily against his bed, his throat feeling like sandpaper as he tried to speak.

"Just wait a moment."

She continued her assault on the door, trying to ignore his voice the best she could. Feeling suffocated by being in the same room as him.

She could hear her own heart screaming in her ears, making them ring painfully. Her rib cage felt too tight around her lungs. Pricks of needles could be felt digging into her back. Inside her shoes, Delilah's feet tingled as if they'd fallen asleep. The corners of her vision began to fade in and out.

"Delilah please just look at me."

A bile rose to her throat, she couldn't look at him, she just couldn't. Because she was afraid that if she did, she'd see him.

Not being able to take being near Tom any longer, she stepped back and aimed her wand at the wall next to the door, "reducto." Her voice was no higher than a trembling whisper, and the wall exploded, leaving a gaping hole leading into the common room.

His eyes widened and he went to grab onto her, but before he could move she bolted through her makeshift exit.

"Delilah!-" Tom's yell was cut off by his own wet cough, turning his head to spit out blood that had risen to his mouth.

She was gone, the common room door slamming shut behind her with a rattle.

Shutting his eyes tightly, both at the pain and the awful turn of events, a wince left him as he shifted his weight. The burn in his side felt like a knife was digging its way around, in search for something it'd never find.

Merlin, he'd really fucked up this time.

Locating his wand underneath a chunk of stone, Tom limped slightly as he made his way over. Summoning it to his hand, his fist as well as his jaw clenched. He didn't heal himself right away, he took in the burn, letting the pain simmer for awhile longer.

Because for the first time, he knew he deserved it.

After about fifteen minutes of him breathing heavily, the aches growing worse with each passing second, he raised his wand and got to work.

But something was wrong.

His wounds were healing at an alarmingly slow rate, the whole process being much more tedious than usual. Whatever magic she had used was causing healing himself to take longer.

A small laugh left his lips, making his ribs hurt but he didn't mind, "clever girl."

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Delilah had shoved more than one person out of the way as she sprinted through the halls of the castle, a look of fright on her face, oblivious to the questioning glances thrown her way.

As soon as the door was in her sights, her fist pounded into the wood without a care of how loud she was being. Moments later the door flew open to reveal a curious and alert Dumbledore, who then frowned at the sight of her.

Delilah didn't wait for him to let her in, she practically threw herself passed him. Her chest was heaving, she knew she was breathing but it felt as if no air was getting in.