(Yoop!) That night, she would be awakened by someone pounding on the door. Ferris sat up, his eyes wide, and he turned to her. "Get under the bed, Fleur," he said urgently.
She sat up quickly, looking over at him in a panic. She slipped off the bed, going underneath and pulling her bag to with her.
He moved above her, looking like he was pulling her sheets back to make her bed quickly. The pounding got louder and once he had tidied her bed, he opened the door. She would only be able to see their feet, but she would hear Ferris talking. "Garrett! Nice to see you." "Don't play games, Costlough," she would hear a gruff voice say. "I thought you would be smart enough never to show your face around here." She would see Ferris shift his weight, stepping back slightly. "I, uh... I had some business to take care of. Unavoidable, I'm afraid. No need to fret though, my burly friend. I'll be out of your hair in less than 24 hours."
"The boss isn't happy," the man warned, stepping into the room. "He feels... insulted, you might say. He thinks that maybe you don't remember your arrangement." Ferris stepped back again. "Oh, that arrangement? I thought that was behind us, Garrett! What is an argument among friends?" There was the sound of impact, and Ferris fell to the floor, his back to her, and supporting himself with his hands. He wasn't able to stand in time, and the man's foot made contact with his chest, kicking him down. She would see his face, blood dripping down from his nose, and he made eye contact with her as another hit caused a small groan to escape his chest.
He made almost an indetectable shake of his head, urging her to stay silent. Another kick to his stomach caused him to curl up, facing away from her again. After a few minutes, the hits slowed and the man spoke, a little out of breath. "That's a warning, Costlough. Watch your back." With that, he turned and left, closing the door quietly behind him.
She waited for a moment longer before crawling out, darting over to him. She looked like was about to cry. "Ferris! I'm so sorry! Are you okay?"
He looked in bad shape, curled up slightly. His face was battered and he was holding his stomach, his breathing ragged. Still, he gave her a small smile. "Just peachy, princess."
She whimpered slightly, her brows furrowing. "This is my fault. I shouldn't have cast that spell and dragged you here for a necklace."
He laughed weakly, trying to sit up. “I shouldn’t have stolen it. It’s fine; we’ll still be able to find your necklace.”
He only shook his head, pushing himself up, holding his side as he limped over to the bathroom. “It’s fine. Go back to sleep.”
He didn't close the door, but turned on the sink, waiting as the old pipes sputtered to life. He began to tend to his wounds, wiping off the blood.
