& —- @policesuited !
FIVE CANDLES SIT in the attic, the invisible lines between them creating that oh-so familiar star. phoebe’s breath catches in her chest, palms sweaty and nervous as she recites the spell;
“HEAR MY WORDS / HEAR MY CRY / SPIRIT FROM THE OTHER SIDE / COME TO ME / I SUMMON THEE / CROSS NOW THE GREAT DIVIDE.“
waiting for prue to materialize in front of her eyes, for the first glimpse of her big sister in over a year, there’s a sense of nervousness. the only person she could talk to about … any of this is beyond the reach of her spells. and prue was always the best of them; the most powerful, the most strict, the most confident but also the most forgiving. come on, she thinks, watching the candles flicker, please.
( ever got your leg caught in seaweed and just for one second - one heart stopping, blood pumping, TERRIFYING second - get tugged under the water? you can’t breathe and maybe you might never again, only a mind-blanking panic SWALLOWING you up before your toes find the sand and you push up and break the surface. it’s like that. sort of. )
andy feels it before he sees it; the familiar smell of old books and rusted bikes ten years, twenty years old. gram’s perfume (always missing parts of himself, but the blank spots always reminded him of her and now he knows why) and prue’s sweaters and his own laugh echoing through the house. let’s play cowboys! no, andy, that’s dumb. i want to play magic!
‘ you REDECORATED. ‘
