Taste test the Happiness, M
From Create Your Own Story
You eye the bottle, and make an obvious move to the stones. What's the worst that could happen?
"You know we should really test this before you head off too class. I mean, what if it doesn't work?" You point out, leaning in to take the bottle from Nathan, who quickly pulls it out of your reach. He put on his disappointed older brother look.
"Testing homemade potions outside the confines of a controlled environment is akin to playing with fire, my friend," Nathan warned, his gaze following yours to the shimmering concoction. Returning his eyes to you, a subtle shift in expression hinted at the brewing uncertainty. "I'm no expert, mind you. There's a genuine risk of it exploding or something equally catastrophic."
His cautionary words hung in the air, but the allure of their own creation seemed to infiltrate his rationality. Popping the lid off, he puffed out his cheeks, grappling with the decision. "Though, I do have aspirations for a passing grade," he mused, "so, theoretically, one taste shouldn't hurt."
Predictably, Nathan, ever the pragmatist, found a logical loophole to override his better judgment. He extended the bottle to you, and with eagerness, you accepted it, stones in hand. Taking a sip, you surrendered the stones back to Nathan as the elixir's warmth enveloped you, leaving behind a residue of utter contentment. You hummed in approval, understanding how easily people could succumb to the allure of this magical creation.
Nathan, too, seemed immersed in the experience, happily stowing the bottle and stones into his bag, destined for the upcoming class.
However, as the comforting warmth lingered, it transformed subtly, pooling in a manner that, while not discomforting, felt undeniably peculiar. The initial tingle of contentment evolved and intensified.
"Erm, Nathan?" you breathed out, your awareness suddenly sharpened to the undeniable handsomeness flare of the eldest brother. Immaculately groomed, a thought whispered through your mind, wondering how he would appear with tousled hair, a disheveled charm. It seemed Nathan, too, was undergoing a similar internal shift, as if seeing you anew.
He bit his lip, an attempt to retain composure, averting his gaze momentarily. "Maybe we should fetch some water," he suggested, "to wash it down." The words were casual, a mundane solution to the inexplicable stirring and fervor growing between them.
