Viktor listened to her list of injuries, and his expression changed as he became more and more concerned.
"And she is going to let you out of here?! That soon? And you will not be climbing onto a broom any time soon, correct? I must ask," and he was sitting up straighter now, letting his eyes shift to her splinted finger as he spoke, "I was injured, rather badly, and I was bull headed and went out to practice the very moment I was released from hospital."
He sighed, biting at his lower lip, thinking about how brash and invincible he had felt. It had all changed so quickly. One minute he was free again, and then the next, he was waking up in a hospital bed, days later as she had, and told to forget the rest of the season. He glanced up at her, "It was not a good decision I made. And if one could take back poor choices, oh how I wish I had stayed inside the two weeks that was suggested to me. Please, Megan, be careful. I know I am not a person of great consequence," he said, raising a hand at any potential protests, "As I am not your parent or your friend, but make me a friend, and heed my advice, please. I would save you the pain I have endured these last months, denied of the sport I have lived for most of my life."
He thought he sounded a bit preaching, but his heart was sincere, and he hoped she would listen.