“I don’t need your help!” he spat angrily and moved away from the bars, his shoulders tense.
She could feel anger and desperation radiating off his body, slowly travelling through the dirty bars of the cell, and crawling towards her. She almost took a step back. Her hands were shaking.
“This isn’t some charity I’m offering for the sake of my soul and clean conscience, you don’t deserve to be here,” she said calmly, her eyes following his pacing form.
He stopped moving and turned around, a sneer on his bruised lips.
She kept staring at him, refusing to look away. It was as if they were back at Hogwarts, playing the game of who’s going to back out first. He was waiting for her to give up and leave. But she promised herself that, for some reason, she wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of seeing her back.
“I’m not going away until you listen to my suggestion.”
Her voice was strong, but her insides were falling apart. He had a tendency of making her feel like that. It never failed to anger her.
The sneer turned into a smirk.
“Alright, then. Go on.”