You're pretty sure you've experienced a lifetime's worth of embarrasssment by now +  “You stood up for me against that really rude costumer who almost made me cry, thank you"

You’re sitting behind the counter, humming to yourself as you page through the yellowed parchment of your potions textbook. The potion shop is empty, giving you peace and quiet to study for your upcoming Magicks exam.

You wince at the door squealing open—you make a mental note to oil them later—and bookmark your page, standing up. The customer, a short, stocky lady dressed in unfamiliar garb, saunters in and lets the door creak shut behind her. She eyes the posters on the wall behind you that advertise the latest sales and list the best-selling potions of the shop.

“Is there anything I can help you with today?” You give her your sunniest smile.

“Yes,” she replies, curtly. “I want a custom potion.”

You try not to let her snappy, authoritative tone bother you. “Alright,” you say, with false brightness. You reach for your pen and notepad. “What will it be?”

“I’d like—“

At that moment, you hear the door squeak again, signaling the entrance of another customer. You glance up, distracted, giving the handsome guy who steps into the shop a smile and a nod.

“…got it?”

You blink in surprise at the customer in front of you and redden in embarrassment at the sudden realization that she had been detailing her order to you the entire time. “I’m sorry, could you repeat that?” you ask, shifting uncomfortably in your spot. You hate telling people that; no one likes being told to repeat themselves.

She stares at you with a look of utter annoyance. You give her a nervous smile.

“Alright, sweetie,” she replies, rolling her eyes. Her voice drips with passive aggressive venom. “I would like you to make me a potion that has blue rose petals and fairy dust in it—“ You nod and quickly scribble it down.

“—with the effect of a love potion.”

You pause mid-word and look up at her, confused.

“I’m sorry ma’am, but did you say love potion?”

She rolls her eyes again. “I’m sorry, are you deaf?”

Your eyes widen at the insult. Nope, nope, forget the passive aggressive part; she’s definitely full-on aggressive now.

The customer continues on, unperturbed. “Yes, I did say love potion. Is there a problem?”

“Y-Yes,” you say, finding your voice after the initial shock. In all honesty, no customer has insulted you. Ever. But then again, you suppose, there is a first time for everything.

“Well?” She taps her foot impatiently.

“We don’t make love potions here. It’s against policy.”

“What?” The look on her face suddenly morphs from haughty annoyance to something on the borderline of wrath. You’re about to open your mouth to explain when the customer angrily cuts you off.

“The poster says in big, bold letters that you guys will make ANY custom potion, girl,” she growls, jabbing her finger towards the bright red poster behind you. “You’re gonna have to try a lot harder to fool me, because I’m not stupid, like you.”

Your mouth drops open at her audacity. You feel tears threatening to fall, having been caught off guard and rudely insulted. Twice. You’re just an apprentice studying to become a potion master, which is why you decided to take a job at the local potion shop. You know how to make potions. You know the policies involving selling potions. You know to classify potions. But what you don’t know is how to deal with…this. Rude customers. And situations involving them.

“Um,” you say, panicked. Before you can continue, a deep voice interrupts.

“Sorry for cutting in, but don’t you think you’re being a bit rude?“

You turn towards the source of the voice and realize it’s the handsome guy from earlier. You breathe out a sigh of relief; you’d almost forgotten he was here.

“Um, who the hell are you?” the customer retorts, turning to face the man next to her. You flinch at her tone; the guy, however, seems unaffected.

“Can’t you tell that she’s just an apprentice? She has no control over what the store can and cannot make.”

The customer opens to speak but the man stops her with a raise of his hand.  “Plus,” he continues, sharply, “Potion shops have changed their policies. They’re refusing to make love potions, mostly because their usage has been deemed unethical by the Magic Board. You’re not from around here, are you?”

“W-Well,” the customer splutters. “Even so, it says any potion. If you guys are goin—“

“What’s going on here?” You immediately whip around at the sound of your manager, Yixing, entering the shop. He must’ve heard the yelling from his office. All eyes turn to Yixing as he shuts the door to his little office and walks over to the counter. He glances at you, and, noticing your glassy eyes, he waves you off. “I’ll deal with this,” he says, firmly.

You nod at him gratefully, gather your books, and head for the back room–but not before shooting the handsome man a thankful smile.

He smiles back as you leave.

//

You’re at the potion shop again, frantically flipping through your textbooks. Exams start in two days and the impending sense of doom has hit you. You usually work at the shop everyday after school, using the time to study. But for the last week, you’ve been avoiding going to the shop after what you’ve termed The Incident(Yixing was understandably okay with you doing so) and ended up deciding to spend the extra time lying on the floor, staring at the ceiling.

And now you’re paying for your poor decisions.

You’re busy trying to analyze the chemical composition of pixie dust and compare it to that of fairy dust when someone politely clears his throat, startling you.

You jump in your seat and look up and see it’s the handsome man from before. The squeaking of the door would’ve alerted you to his arrival, but you guess someone finally oiled the hinges.

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