Mia!
Leon hovered at the edge of the bed, wide-eyed, watching Mia's form topple backward from nothing more than the gentle pressure of his fingers. His breath stalled in his throat.
He couldn't even believe it for an instant—his body reacting before his mind even had time to process. He launched himself forward, pulse racing, shaking hands as he swept her into their cradle.
"Mia!" his cry was cracked with fear. He shook her gently, holding her against his chest, longing to see her eyelashes flicker, to listen for her voice. "Mia, wake up! Speak to me!"
She didn't move. Her body lay limply against him, warm but unnervingly still. His own panic burrowed deeper, keen and suffocating.
He drew her closer into his hug, shaking her shoulders with swift, desperate motions. "Mia! Gods—no, no, no—don't you ever do that to me!"
And then—
"Hey, bro. Cut it out already. Why in the hell are you screaming like a moron?"
