The Lonely Prince (BTS Jungkook)

Its Just a Potion

 "Hmm. If it's not cranberry, then maybe blueberry?"

The forest was alive today, with various birds chirping and a nearby river babbling on along the rocks. It was peaceful and charming, just the way I liked it. The midday sun peeked through the tree canopy, offering a small dusting of light on the fallen leaves. My floppy brimmed hat hid most of the light from my face, and I was thankful for it when the summer heat was almost too hot to bear.

I stand in front of a large berry bush, picking blueberries and putting them in the small wicker basket that settled in the crook of my arm. For years I've been trying to perfect my potion, but to no avail.

Each recipe that I try ends up in failure, plus it doesn't help that the recipe books were ages old. I picked out each ingredient with pinpoint precision and delicacy, but no concoction that I managed to whip together did the trick.

"What am I missing?" I ponder out loud, putting my hand on my hip in a sassy manor. "I had the beetroot, mice tail, and cranberry... So why was the last try a fail?"

I continue picking the berries when something catches my eye through the trees. Or when someone catches my eye. A man, a rather tall one at that, marches through the forest, a sword on his hip, and the leaves crunching below his boots.

I quickly duck behind the bush, pulling my floppy hat off in the process. My eyes linger on the old wooden broom at my feet. It was my quick escape in case something went haywire. Such as seeing someone in the forest.

I can hear the leaves shuffle slowly closer to me, and I dig in my pocket. Pulling out a blue vial, a thought comes to my mind.

This is the fourth man this week that's been here in my forest. Four times I have tried potions with no avail. What's one more?

I blame my extreme longing for human affection for when I slowly raise my head over the bush.

Just one peek. If he's handsome, then I'll try this last potion. If not, then I'll leave.

My eyes rise just high enough to get a peek over the blue fruit speckled foliage. Not even twenty feet from me stood the most gorgeous man to ever grace these woods. His tattered black shirt didn't help to hide his tensing muscles under the thin fabric. A leather belt hung at his waist, sheathing his sword. Worn brown jeans and a set of matching leather boots finished off his look. It was a typical outfit of a hunter, but I haven't seen one so handsome before.

The sunlight crashes onto his rugged features, lighting up his dark eyes that scan his surroundings closely. Black hair frames his brow, with the rest being tied into a topknot in the back.

I spin back to my hiding spot, my mouth gaping open.

"Jackpot!" I whisper to myself, grabbing my broom. The smile that erupts on my features can't be stopped, and I find myself getting giddy with excitement. It had been some time since the forest brought me a man as handsome as this one, and I'll be damned if I let him slip away that easily.

Sure, being a witch has been outlawed since like, forever, but I was only in trouble if I got caught. And I did not plan on getting caught today. I need a test subject, and the way I see it, the more handsome he is- the better. If it didn't work then he'd be angry, but that's a risk I'm willing to take. Besides, if this potion flunks out, I won't be seeing this guy ever again.

My broom flies into my hand as I sit on the wooden dowel, flying high into the treetops. I'm as silent as a hawk, my eyes fixated on my new prey. This isn't the first time I've love-dusted someone, so I know not to get too close. I hover until I'm right above him, praying that he doesn't become alerted to my shadow that's right beside his.

Most hunters are careless, only coming in from the closest village to catch their dinner. There's a stream where many catch fish for their families, and even wild rabbits that scurry around. This made me somewhat nervous, however. He didn't carry any weapons but a sword, and no fishing rod anywhere that I c see. He seemed to carry himself with an unusual confidence that was so unlike any of the other men I've seen tromp through these woods.

Shrugging off any last-minute hesitations or nervous thoughts that appear, I pop the cork on the top of the vial and dust the unsuspecting gentleman under my heels. A plume of blue smoke and sparkles dances in the wind, and I finally hear the man's voice for myself.

"What the hell is that smell?" His gruff voice echoed throughout the forest, causing squirrels to hide and lizards to scamper from the sudden noise. He sounds mad.

Realizing the blue potion was the one that required animal bones and bluebird feathers, there's no wonder that it stinks. Luckily, I'm above the dust, so I don't catch wind of the stench. Although, when I brewed it in my cauldron, I remember having to open the windows of the cottage to let the stink out.

I don't have much longer until I'm noticed, so I close the vial and shove it into my pocket. Taking a deep breath, I raise my voice.

"Hi traveler!" I catch his attention, him arching his neck up to get a look at me. Please work. Please work. I lower myself on the broomstick, allowing him to clearly see my face under the black large brimmed hat. "You come here often?"

I eye him carefully, analyzing the effects of the potion. He stares up at me with a blank expression which quickly turns into anger. My face drops my nonchalant smile, my eyes widening. Just before I kick my broom into hyperdrive to leave, I feel something grasp my ankle. Looking down, I see his determined and irritated features focused directly on me.

Man, he looks hot. Trying to tune out my lovesick brain for five seconds, I can conclude that the potion definitely did not work. Unless this weirdo shows love by being irritated. He yanks my ankle with enough force that it completely knocks me off my broomstick. I yelp, feeling my hat lift from my head and a sturdy grip find its way to my waist and behind my knees. The impact with the ground never came, and when I finally muster up enough courage to open my eyes I'm met with piercing brown ones.

My face heats up at the sudden close contact, the feeling of a man's hands being on me foreign. I begin to wriggle myself from his grasp when he speaks up again.

"Finally got you, Love Witch of the Woodlands."

There's an arrogance in his eyes as he glares down at me, a cocky smile to match his other features.

***