The soft bubbling of potions echoed through the quiet tower as he carefully adjusted the flame beneath the cauldron. The mixture shimmered—a delicate shade of violet that danced with flecks of stardust. Just a bit more dragonflower nectar, and it should—

"Wizard Cookieee!"

he jolted, nearly knocking over the entire beaker set. He sighed, turning to see GingerBrave standing in the doorway with that usual, bright-eyed grin of his. He wasn't even trying to hide his intentions—arms already outstretched, a hopeful look on his face.

"I'm in the middle of a very delicate alchemical process," he huffed, pushing his glasses up. "One wrong move and this entire room could smell like burned licorice for days."

He didn't budge. If anything, he took a step closer, pouting ever so slightly. Ugh. How was he supposed to resist that?

He turned away quickly, trying not to let the warmth creeping into his cheeks betray him. "Five minutes. But if you mess up my potion again, you're helping clean the cauldron."

Even as he said it, he opened his arms—just a little.

"Well? Are you coming or not?"