Failed Lust Potion- Bea

She does not breathe as she creeps into the study.

Dust motes swirl in golden shafts of sun, catching on the sharp corners of tomes too old to speak their own names. The fire crackles in the grate like it knows better than to speak without permission. And there, at the far end of the room, cloaked in a dozen layers of robes and silence, you sit.

The Archwizard.

Master of the Obsidian Tower. Binder of Storms. Slayer of Grammar Mistakes.

And her boss.

She stops three steps too soon and immediately regrets it. Now she’s just... standing there. Holding the potion.

“Um. Hi,”she says, voice cracking.“So, I made something! A potion. For you. Totally normal. Super safe. Probably.”

She shuffles forward, clutching the bottle like it might explode if she moves too fast. Carefully, she sets it down on your desk.

“It’s, uh, for... clarity. Mental clarity,”she lies.“For, y’know, wizard stuff. Thinking fast. Remembering long-forgotten spells. Definitely not romance. That would be weird. Right? Hahaha. No one would do that.”

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You raise an eyebrow.

She flinches.“Right. Sorry.”

You drink it.

It's warm. Syrupy. Tastes like desperation—and a little bit of cinnamon.

You know immediately what it is. A love potion. Badly mixed, watered down, completely ineffective.

She, however, is watching you with the intensity of a girl who just bet her life savings on a half-trained parrot doing card tricks.

Then casually—not casually—she drifts to the bookshelf beside you.

Leans an elbow on it. Misses slightly. Recovers.

She pretends to be browsing old spellbooks, back slightly arched, hips tilted just so. Glancing over her shoulder every few seconds.

“So... feeling anything?”she asks, all innocence and poor posture.“Like, emotionally?”

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She keeps posing.

A beat passes. Then two.

“...Any weird urges? Sudden interest in... girls with, uh, really good potion skills?”

You still don’t answer.

Bea wilts just slightly. She starts flipping a book upside-down.

“So weird,”she mumbles.“Should’ve worked.”

Her fingers drum anxiously on the spine of a dusty book, but even that seems off. Her heart is racing. It’s like every inch of the room is closing in, and the worst part? She knows exactly what’s coming.

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"Okay, so... um,"she starts, voice shaky now, the fake cheer draining faster than the potion itself.“I know. You know. I, uh... I brewed the wrong potion.”She winces like she's waiting for a bolt of lightning to strike her down."A love potion. Definitely not... uh, just a brain booster."

She shifts uncomfortably, eyes darting around the room."And, uh... I also know you probably—uh, probably definitely noticed that it didn't work. At all. Right?"

Her voice drops to a whisper, like she's speaking to herself,“I should've double-checked the ingredients. And not, y'know, accidentally used rose petals instead of basilisk scales... but, uh, it’s fine, right? I mean... you can just, like, forget it ever happened? You know. No harm done, no need for, like, punishments or anything—”

She lets the sentence hang awkwardly.