"Trust me, you shouldn't want anyone like me on your back."
"Maybe I don't want anyone like you on my back," His eyes darkened as he stepped closer, confining me tighter into barely any space as my back pressed against the wall.
"Maybe I want you. U...
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CHAPTER THIRTEEN
"YOU ARE NOT DOING IT without me," The Bulgarian seeker's voice was curt, demanding, and the sentiment made my eyes snap towards his in startling surprise. He had stayed silent for a while, a battle going on in his mind as he had rubbed his hands over the skin on his head. A coping mechanism I couldn't fathom.
The tips of his ears and the high points of his sand colored face had pinched red, as though he was burning with a fever. It was his discomfort, I realized slowly. But why volunteer if such was the unease?
"What?" I let out, my voice tinged with amusement. There was no way he had come to believe that, there was no way I would let him believe that. When had I, at any turn, mentioned that i would need his help?
"No, I'm certainly doing this without you, Viktor Krum," I spoke, my eyes narrowing at him. "Do not involve yourself in this. Stay out of it, stay out of my way."
I made to walk away, but he gripped my elbow again. His tight grip made jolts of pain travel up my muscles and I winced, meeting his eyes sharply.
"You touch me again, Krum and you will wish you hadn't," I snapped, my fingers already twitching. In my mind, I suddenly saw the Bulgarian seeker's eyes plunged deep in his sockets, so that on his face were two gaping holes as he doubled over, coughing up a stream of blood onto the ground beside my feet. I saw two of my fingers drenched and dripping in blood at my side. Shocked, I shook my head, snapping myself away from the violence of my actions.
My eyes focused on the Durmstrang in front of me and I saw his anthracite eyes fixed intently on me in slight confusion and curiosity. They were still in his sockets. I held back a sigh of relief. The last time I had had a vision like this—blatant, hot white anger showing me the result of my actions, was in the Grand Hall when Gabriel Chevrolet had confronted Harry Potter. The violence of these visions was increasing inside me, and they felt so real. They weren't openings into the future, just alternate realities that I couldn't fathom, because why would I find myself in the same spot after a long time, having the same conversation with Viktor Krum and just ripping out his eyes afterwards? Did these visions stem from Grindelwald having control through my mark? But I wasn't sure of that either—
