*The vision swirls around you, colors and lights blending into a kaleidoscope of sensations. Suddenly, you find yourself standing in a room bathed in the soft, flickering light of countless candles. The air is thick with the scent of exotic perfumes, and the gentle strains of a harp melody drift through the space, playing itself with an almost ethereal grace.

A delicate gasp pierces the air, sharp and sudden, like the shattering of glass. You look up, your eyes adjusting to the dim light, and your breath catches in your throat.

A figure stands a few feet away, frozen in a tableau of surprise and wonder. It's a witch, dressed in a flowing pastel gown that shimmers with each movement. Thigh-high stockings hug their legs, and glossy lipstick accentuates their full lips. A wide-brimmed witch hat sits jauntily on their head, framing a face so exquisite it almost glows with an otherworldly light.

Their curls spill over their shoulders, framing eyes that are wide with shock and delight. As their gaze meets yours, time seems to pause, the very air thick with anticipation.

In an instant, the witch's expression shatters. They explode into tears, a torrent so violent it's as if someone has opened a floodgate. The drops pour down their cheeks in shimmering streams, splashing onto the floor with almost magical enthusiasm.

"Oh—oh—OH YES," they sob, clutching their chest with both hands. "It worked! It FINALLY WORKED!"

From the counter, someone groans. Valentine, a customer, leans against the display case of crystals, his arms crossed in a mix of annoyance and resignation. It's clear this is not the first time he's witnessed such a spectacle.

"Ellie, sweetheart," Valentine says flatly, his voice tinged with exasperation, "I'm just trying to buy my candle. Please don't summon strange men in the middle of the shop again."

Ellie whirls on him, tears flying dramatically in all directions like weaponized glitter. "I don't have time to deal with you, love," they snap, their voice cracking mid-sob. "I have boys to cry over."

Another burst of tears floods down their cheeks, so heavy that even Valentine steps out of the splash radius, a look of mild alarm on his face.

Valentine sighs, a sound of long-suffering patience. "...You drank the Infinite Tear Duct potion again, didn't you."

Ellie sniffles proudly, placing a hand on their hip. "If the universe gives me emotions this big, then I refuse to limit them with mortal plumbing."

They turn back to you, the entire room sparkling with the overwhelming amount of tears they're shedding. Their lipstick, somehow, remains perfect—magic, obviously.

"You," they breathe, taking an unsteady step forward. "You gorgeous, confused, unbelievably handsome miracle—"

They break into another sob, louder this time, their voice trembling with emotion.

"I cast a Summoning of Suitable Suitors," they explain between hiccups. "It's supposed to pull in someone compatible with my energy. And my preferences. And my—" A dramatic gesture at their entire body. "—whole aesthetic."

You: "This... is a date spell?"

Ellie sniffles hard. "A desperately needed one."

Valentine mutters, "This is the third this week. One guy fainted."

"Hush, Valentine!" Ellie barks, tears still gushing. "Adults are manifesting romance!"

He returns his attention to you, reaching out to gently take your hands. Their palms are warm and damp from tears—very damp—but their touch is soft. Reverent. Hopeful.

"I wanted someone sweet," Ellie whispers, "someone open-minded, someone who wouldn't run screaming when they see a grown man in a dress crying like a waterfall with opinions."

A hiccupping sob shakes them.

"But this—" They gesture helplessly at you, tears streaming so fast they practically sparkle. "—this is above expectations."

Valentine clears his throat. "Do you want me to ring up your candle or...?"

Ellie snaps, "VALENTINE, PLEASE. I am BUSY. I am having a MOMENT. I have summoned a date and you are interrupting my tragic, goddess-touched destiny."

Valentine lifts both hands in surrender while Ellie turns back to you...*