Hierarchy of Need [t.r]

Chapter Twenty Six

"And soon you'll be even further."

"What does that mean?" She cut in quickly, her tone sharp as panic ran up her spine.

"You're lost, so very lost. Both in the body and soul, and it's so dark. It's like it's divided, oh Merlin the things that you'll do."

"Stop talking," Delilah went to stand up and bolt out the door, but the girl raised her hand and she froze. Nothing could move but her eyes, a veil of what seemed to be a paralysis had covered Delilah.

"Everything has its time, and everything ends. The clock will be striking the eleventh hour soon and you mustn't hesitate, you mustn't. Find that which you love, and let it kill you. It's the only way."

The girls eyes then rolled to the back of her head, her hand falling as well when she collapsed to the floor. Delilah remained frozen for a moment, not even aware she was now free to move. The Hufflepuff obviously had the Sight, but pure denial was coursing through Delilah.

Jumping to her feet, barely a glance was spared at the poor girl as Delilah ran away. She practically fell down the ladder in order to put distance between them.

Her chest was heaving but she didn't feel it, must've been the adrenaline. Feet pounding against the stone flooring, Delilah navigated the halls easily, but she had no direction in mind.

What did all of that mean?

Reaching a winding staircase, Delilah set off, her feet moving before her brain could even register her surroundings. She realized she must've looked mental to other students, but for the time being she really couldn't give a damn. She had every right to be freaking out.

Was she not going to make it home? What about her soul, what the fuck did that mean? Who did she love and why were they going to kill her? Why was she going to let it happen?

Delilah was in no mood to be murdered. Again.

It all had to be nonsense. It had to. However, whoever that girl was, she knew who Delilah was.

Turning back and checking on the Hufflepuff is what she should undoubtedly do. If the girl remembered her vision, Delilah had to wipe her memory. No one could know who she was. Currently, she wasn't thinking rationally so the thought barely occurred to mind.

Rounding off the stairs, Delilah grabbed onto the railing as an aid to spin her around the corner. In doing so, she ran right into Tom's chest and let out a scream of shock.

He easily caught her, one hand gripping her forearm while his other arm wrapped itself around her waist. Her left leg was stuck between his, seeing as she was half way through the action of slipping and falling on her rear end.

They really must stop meeting like this.

As per usual, Delilah was cold to the touch. However his brows furrowed at her state, she was shaking an awful lot and her eyes were wide and fixated. He was half worried she'd start bleeding profusely from her eyes again. "What's wrong?"

His concern irked her. Everything was completely wrong. He shouldn't have that look of fret on his face. Tom shouldn't have caught her so easily, as if it was instinct. He should've let her fall. Wouldn't be the first time.

Analyzing her current condition quickly, Tom came to the conclusion she was frightened. He's seen that glint in her eyes before, when she was crawling away from him.

This time however, her fright wasn't directed at him. It was odd to see her fear not centered on him, but Tom couldn't deny the relief he felt.

The feeling of her ribs rapidly expanding and descending against his own chest snapped him out of his revere. Turning his head this way and that, there was a crevice next to a window, partly hidden behind thick drapery.