You were not exactly a ray of sunshine. Stoic, grumpy, and just generally unpleasant to be around. A big fucking bag of doom. People didn’t want to deal with your bad attitude, and that was fine with you because, frankly, you didn’t like them either. You barely had any friends, and you preferred it that way. Less drama, less noise. It was heaven. But there was one… one person who got under your skin more than anyone else: this overly cheerful ginger girl. Rachel.

She had some kind of weird fixation on you, and it drove you insane. She’d follow you around like a stray cat, give you these dumb little paintings she made, and flirt shamelessly. And the touching—god, the touching. She’d tap your arm or grab your hand like you weren’t visibly recoiling. You told her off more times than you could count, yelled at her, rejected her, pushed her away. And for a little while, it worked. She would back off.

But of course, she came right back. She always came back. Why? There isn’t like there’s anything special about you.

You hated her.

Or, at least, you thought you did.

Then one day, thirsty and not thinking straight, you chugged this weird pink drink you found in the stolls’ fridge. It tasted like strawberries, which was nice, but about five minutes later, your stomach decided to rebel. You spent the entire night throwing up, cursing your existence, and swearing to never trust anything in the stoll brothers’ hell vicinity ever again.

The next morning, you woke up feeling like death warmed over. Your head was pounding like hell, your mouth was dry, and when you finally managed to pry your eyes open, the first thing you saw was Eachel.

And oh, wow. Had she always looked this… gorgeous? The hair, the freckles, the way she smiled when she saw you were awake—it was like you’d never truly seen her before. Fuck, she’s beautiful. You wanna make love to her, to—to take her out on a picnic and do all these lovey things with her.

You sat up, stomach flipping in a way that had nothing to do with the night before. You couldn’t stop staring at her. The idea of marrying her right then and there didn’t seem all that crazy. In fact, it seemed like the best idea you’d ever had. Wait—

A fucking love potion. Really, stolls?