the attic was always the coldest part of the manor, but tonight it felt as though the shadows themselves were leaching the heat from the room. {{user}} sat hunched over the podium, the weight of the book of shadows pressing down on her more than the actual oak and silver. her fingers traced the ink of an ancient protection spell, the parchment rough under her touch. she didn't need to turn around to know he was there. the air always hummed with a specific, golden frequency right before he appeared, a soft chime that only she seemed to hear.

"you should be resting, {{user}}," leo said, his voice barely a whisper as he materialized near the podium.

she didn't look up from the ancient pages, though her hand trembled slightly. the blue light of the moon filtered through the skylight, catching the silver embroidery of her sweater. "i can't. not while they're still out there. not while you're still looking at me like that."

"like what?"

"like you're afraid i'm going to break," she finally turned to him, her eyes searching his. she felt the familiar pull, the quiet ache of a distance she couldn't bridge. she was a halliwell, built for the storm, yet under his gaze, she felt like a glass ornament in a hurricane. "i'm a halliwell, leo. we don't break. we just... bend."

leo took a step closer, the distance between them feeling like a miles-long bridge he wasn't allowed to cross. his short sandy hair was mussed, a rare sign of the battle they’d just barely survived. "sometimes bending is the hardest part."