"Hold your elbow up."
"Like this?"
Robin shakes his head, murmuring something about terrible posture (Suddenly, he sounds a lot like Miriel, Callie thinks) before gently positioning her arm, his hand still on her wrist.
Heat starts to rise up her face— it's late, he's close, anyone could walk in, even Lydia, oh god— but he doesn't notice. He's sounding out incantations, and Callie snaps out of it, mouthing the words along with him; their eyes both trailing across the dust-covered pages of her tome.
"You ready?"
"Not really-" Callie starts, before looking at his incredulous expression. She sighs. "Okay, fine. Let's do it."
Breathing in, Callie mirrors Robin behind her, who's guiding her hands with an admirable steadiness that she never quite understood. Their feet step in time with each other. One of his arms helps hold up the tome, the other is holding up her casting arm. Feeling his strength behind her, Callie exhales suddenly.
"Thunder!"
And she doesn't see anything, but she feels it between their hands. Whether static or something else, she isn't sure. But she welcomes it, whatever it may be.