Eyes fixed on the homework, she could only feel his presence. Her mouth pinched, twisting, like something sour lingered.

He also stared ahead at nothing, but not because he wanted to. Every time he tried to face her, his skin prickled, like he awaited something cold to wash over, freezing him more than the snow storm outside had.

She tapped her pencil against the table, lightly, not enough to disturb their baby sibling upstairs. Falling into muscle memory somehow dulled her headaches. Her jaw loosened, and that’s what he saw from the corner of his eye.

Maybe this was his chance.

Turning on his feet, he opened his mouth, then closed it.

She stopped tapping, and her eyes flicked upwards, then sideways to him - a poison frog showing its bright colors, expecting a mouth to open on its skin.

He swallowed the lump growing in his throat, and his tear ducts stung. He didn’t know why.

Fingers picking at his jacket, still wet from the melting snow, he backed up out of the kitchen, each step slow but unsteady.

After holding her breath for so long, she finally exhaled.