Today was the annual spice festival, and probably the biggest one you’d ever seen. There were stalls everywhere, the scents of delicious food and an overabundance of spices floating on the air. Normally, this was one of your favorite events of the year, but you found yourself increasingly bored as you wandered from stall to stall.

It was because you had to go by yourself this year, you knew. Your best friend Seokjin normally went with you every time, the two of you making your way about the festival laughing and eating way too much, always going home with tons of new spices and recipes for things he wanted to try cooking, using you as a guinea pig. Today you were simply walking around, picking up all the things on the list Jin had written for you since he couldn’t get away from work. And since you’re his BEST FRIEND, you get every single thing he asks for, and some extra treats that you think he’d like.

You hated the term best friends.

Every time you heard him use it in relation to you, it made you cringe. To you, he was not your best friend. He was someone you’d secretly been in love with for years. He never seemed to notice you, though. You were increasingly getting sick of being his just his friend, but the other alternative of cutting him out of your life completely made you feel worse.

As if the gods had heard you and decided to mock you, you found yourself in front of a stall advertising love potions and spells. You pause, staring at the stall covered with colorful bottles and little bags, momentarily tempted.

What is wrong with you?

You scoff, upset with yourself that you would stoop so low as to consider a bunch of twigs and flowers a viable way to make Jin love you. You shake it off and start to walk away when the stall owner steps in front of you.

“Here, sweetheart, this one is on me. You look like you need it.” The extremely normal looking woman places a little red bag in your palm, smiling up at you. You had almost assumed someone who sold love potions would look more…intimidating, but the stall owner simply looked like a sweet older lady.

“How do I use it?” you find the words pouring out of your mouth, much to your horror. You totally weren’t going to really use it. Nope. You were just curious.

“Make him a stew, and place this in the pot while it’s cooking. The herbs will brew with everything else and be undetectable, making a powerful love potion. Good luck dearie!” The woman finished her speech and walked briskly back to her stall, leaving you staring at your hand.

You weren’t REALLY thinking about doing it, were you?

What could the harm be, though, really? At worst, they would make the food taste funny. At best, you’d be making Jin his favorite stew. And maybe, somehow, with some sort of weird miracle that you totally didn’t believe in, it would work and Jin would finally look at you as more than his friend. You gathered all your goods together and made your way home before you could second guess yourself.

Your apartment smelled amazing. You had the stew bubbling away on the stove top, the herbs that you totally didn’t believe in safely tucked away in the cavity of the chicken. You’d tested it a few times, and sure enough, you didn’t taste much of a difference. You’d called Jin before you started cooking, and he agreed to come over after practice to pick up the things you’d gotten him from the festival. 
Just as you’re setting the stew on the table, you hear Jin punching the code into the keypad, having done away with knocking years ago. You pretend that you’re oblivious to his presence, even though your heart is beating so fast you think it’s going to give out at any second. Suddenly, you are enveloped in big, sweaty man as he wraps you in a back hug, chin on your shoulder.

“Wow, that smells good. Did you use spices from the festival?” he asks, as you shrug him off, nose wrinkling. Hot and sweaty Jin is not something you can handle right now.

“Of course.” Boy, did I ever. “I figured you’d be starving after practice.”

“Ahhh, you’re always so good to me. It’s because I’m handsome, isn’t it?” he chuckles, plopping onto one of the bar seats.

“Hey, whatever, but you stink. I’m not eating with that next to me. Off with you. You brought clothes, right?” You shoo him away, and he stands up with a groan.

“Fine, woman. I’ll make it quick because I’m hungry. I didn’t bring anything though. I just rushed over after practice. I’m sure I’ll find something here. Maybe one of the fifty pairs of sweats you’ve “borrowed” over the years.” You give him your best cute and innocent face, hearing him laugh on his way to the shower.

You decide to just sit at the table and wait. The stew pot sitting there. Mocking you. Can stew pots laugh? You were pretty sure you could hear it laugh.

You heard the shower stop, him stomping to the bedroom and ruffling through your drawers, and a loud “AHAH!” as he obviously found what he was looking for. He waltzed back into the dining room wearing…nothing but black sweats hung low on his hips. No shirt, or even socks. You hated him.

You were trembling, and nervous, so you busied yourself with serving the food. He plopped into the seat next to you, and you could swear his body heat was burning you. You watch as he takes a huge bite of the stew, at the taste.

“This is really good!” he exclaims, shoveling more stew. You give him a small, nervous smile while taking tiny bites. You weren’t that hungry, and you weren’t really sure what the “Love Potion” would do to women.

Suddenly, there was a cough. A small one. Followed by two more. Soon he couldn’t seem to stop. You jump up, pounding on his back.

“Jin?! Are you OK? What happened?” You frantically yell, peering into his face.

“I don’t know. There’s something…I’m not sure. Maybe. Wrong. Pipe.” He manages between coughs.

“Should I do the Heimlich? Are you choking?”

“If I was choking, could I tell you I was choking? Did you put something new in this? Maybe I’m allergic?” Tears are running down his face as the coughing racks his body.

“I don’t know what’s in it.” You whisper, hoping he didn’t hear over himself.

He heard.

“WHAT? What do you mean? Did you buy it from the store?”

“No. It’s the herbs. I got them at the festival.” you twist your hands, wondering if you should be calling the ambulance.

“What kind were they? They didn’t tell you anything?” he asked hoarsely. It seemed as though the coughing was subsiding, but you were pretty sure you’d poisoned him.

“I don’t know what’s in it. She didn’t tell me. IT’S A DAMN LOVE POTION!” You’re screaming now, tears running down your face. You were so worried that you had killed the man you loved. You shoved your face into your hands, crying, and you hadn’t noticed that Jin had stopped coughing, and was taking a sip of water when he heard you say Love Potion.

He looked up at you in shock.

“Does this mean I’m…lovesick?”

“ARE YOU SERIOUS RIGHT NOW?! You’re dying, I killed you, and you’re going to go out with a pun?”

The sounds of his windshield wiper laugh finally pierced through your panic, and you look at him clearly, relieved to see that he was fine. You let out a shaky breath, smacking his shoulder.

“Hey, how dare you hit me!” He says, tugging you so you fall into his lap. He settles you face to face.

“You don’t need to ruin good food to make me love you, dummy. I already do.”

“Oh.” You look at him in shock, your eyes falling to stare at his plump lips.

“Yes, Oh.” He mocks and kisses you sweetly.

“What’s for dessert? Something with mint sounds nice. Why? Because we’re mint to be!”

(Yes, I did just write a fic so I could be punny.)