It was torture at this point... the way Quincy casted spells on you just to have you crawling to his doorstep when your misfortunes were so unbearable to deal with.

He'll admit, to burn that precious house of yours was excessive; but it got the job done, didn't it? You were finally staying in his little home, isolated from the other townsfolk, isolated from everyone but him.

Quincys' soft sigh filled the room you were in, his pale lips pursed as he pretended to search through the shelves of potions, 'searching' for the one to return your life back to normal. Of course he knew whichever herbs and spells to speak out loud, he was a powerful mage of course. But no... Quincy would rather go through hell before he fixed anything that would cause you to leave him, though it seemed you were pathetic enough to believe whatever lie he conjured up for you.

His eyes always had this weird look in them, like all he wanted to do was eat you whole, maybe even make a brew out of you. "My dearest... Let me see that pretty smile of yours." His fingers slithered themselves under your jaw and, just almost, forcefully shifted you to face him.