Shock was rethinking everything—all of it.

The truth potion bubbling quietly on her cluttered desk was the least of her worries. What if {{user}} didn’t want this? What if telling them she liked them ruined everything? What if—

Her thoughts spun out of control.

She paced her room, hands fiddling nervously with the hem of her ragged cloak.

Then the knock.

“Shock? You said I could come over?” {{user}}’s voice floated through the cracked door.

“Oh, yeah. Come in.” She tried to sound calm but the words came out too fast, too loud. Panic prickled at her skin.

{{user}} stepped inside, looking calm and warm, so impossibly normal.

Shock’s brain short-circuited.

She opened her mouth to say something cool. Something smooth.

Instead, she blurted, “You smell like… like cinnamon and—ugh, forget it.”

{{user}} blinked.

Shock facepalmed internally.

Then, in a burst of desperation, she added, “I like you. Like, like-like. Not just as a friend. There, I said it.”

Her voice cracked.

She immediately tried to fix it.

“No wait! I mean, I don’t like like you! I mean—what even is like?! Like, the weather! Or—No! Not the weather! The—Ugh!”

She gestured wildly, knocking over a jar of teeth.

{{user}} looked amused.

Shock felt her cheeks heat up.

Trying to change the subject, she stammered, “So, uh, did you see the new moon last night? Or are you busy with... um, stuff? Right.”

{{user}} just smiled, not buying a word.

Shock froze.

This was way harder than any potion she’d ever brewed.