91-92

*Chapter 91: The Visit *

"Did you know?"

"Roger confessed to me today..."

"Yes, that Roger. You can't imagine how awkward it was. Everyone on the street was staring at us."

At home, a girl named Layla was recounting today's incident to her best friend over the phone, her face a mix of disbelief and exasperation.

Sitting on her bed, she idly painted her nails while chatting with her friend on the other end of the line.

"Of course, I rejected him. You know me—I’m not into Roger’s type at all."

Pouting slightly, Layla glanced at her little poodle, Carla, who was running around the room with a shoe in its mouth. She immediately waved her finger at the dog in disapproval.

"Carla! No, no!"

"Woof..."

The small dog stopped in its tracks at its owner's reprimand, whimpered softly, but soon went back to chewing on the shoe.

"Bad dog, Carla, bad dog..."

Seeing the mangled shoe in the dog’s mouth, Layla sighed. She set down her nail polish, picked up the little dog, and began playing with it while continuing her phone conversation.

"Then why did you go out with Roger in the first place?"

"Because he bought me a new handbag! I only agreed to go out with him because of that. If I’d known he was planning to confess, I wouldn’t have gone at all..."

"A handbag? After he made me so embarrassed, there’s no way I’m giving it back."

As she spoke, Layla’s eyes flickered to the brand-new handbag sitting on her vanity. She was already contemplating which outfit would best match it.

*Ding-dong!*

Just as Layla and her friend were chatting away, the doorbell rang, interrupting her thoughts.

"Okay, I’ve got to go. Someone’s here," Layla said, reluctantly ending the call.

Still holding Carla, she walked to the door and opened it.

"Roger."

Seeing Roger standing at her doorstep with a bag and a bottle of wine, Layla’s cheerful expression instantly faded.

"I’ve already given you my answer. It’s impossible between us. Please don’t bother me again."

Clearly annoyed, Layla was about to shut the door on him.

"Wait, Layla..."

Not wanting to leave before executing his plan, Roger quickly reached out to stop the door, leaning halfway into the doorway. "Just give me a chance. I’m not asking for much. I admit my confession earlier was impulsive, and I’m sorry for that. This time, I came here to apologize."

As he spoke, Roger pulled out a gift he had prepared in advance, shaking it slightly in front of Layla to ensure she noticed it.

Layla’s eyes fell on the gift—a handbag she had been eyeing for a while.

Her annoyed expression softened slightly. After hesitating for a moment, she took the gift from Roger’s hands. "Ten minutes. Since we were friends before, I’ll give you ten minutes, Roger."

"No problem!"

Roger’s face lit up with joy as Layla finally allowed him to step inside.

"Go play, Carla," Layla said, setting the dog down. She turned to Roger and got straight to the point. "Let me make this clear: if you’re here to confess again, I can tell you right now—it’s not going to happen. I don’t have any feelings for you."

Roger felt a pang of hurt, even though he had mentally prepared for her bluntness.

Reaching into his pocket to touch the vial of love potion, he mustered his courage. "I know. That’s why I’m not here to confess again. I just hope we can share a drink together—just one drink..."

"...Fine," Layla finally said, glancing at the gift he’d brought. "One drink, Roger. That’s all."

With that, she turned toward the kitchen to grab some wine glasses.

"I’ll get them," Roger quickly interjected. "I can’t let you serve me."

Layla, uninterested in arguing, shrugged. She only wanted to get this over with as soon as possible.

In the kitchen, Roger took out the love potion from his pocket and poured it into one of the wine glasses. Swirling it around, his face filled with anticipation.

"Woof, woof!"

As he picked up the glasses to head back to the living room, Carla’s sudden barking startled him.

Looking down, Roger saw the little poodle standing in the kitchen doorway, staring at him.

Feeling a twinge of guilt, Roger shushed the dog and cleared his throat before composing himself and returning to the living room.

"Thanks," Layla said, examining the handbag she had just unwrapped. Her face lit up with delight as she admired the bag.

She took the glass of wine Roger handed her and downed it in one gulp.

Setting the empty glass on the table, Layla glanced at Roger and said, "Your ten minutes are up. You should leave now, Roger."

"But I just got back from the kitchen!" Roger said, looking bewildered.

"I let you in, and I had a drink with you. That’s enough. Now, please leave."

Unwilling to go, Roger glanced at his glass of wine, trying to stall. "Just let me finish my drink first."

His reluctance to leave stemmed from his hope that the love potion would soon take effect and make Layla fall for him.

"No, Roger. If you don’t leave now, I’ll call the police. Get out of my house. Now!"

Seeing Layla’s firm stance, Roger had no choice but to set down his glass and leave, dejected.

As he walked out, he couldn’t help but feel the so-called love potion was a hoax, a trick by that professor to make a fool of him.

How could a potion to make someone fall in love even exist in this world?

"Wait!"

Just as Roger was about to step out the door, Layla’s voice called out behind him.

---

(Chapter end)

Chapter 92: A Dream Come True

"I'm here!"

Hearing Layla’s voice, Roger immediately stopped in his tracks. He turned around, his heart full of anticipation as he looked at the girl.

“Take the wine you brought with you. I don’t like having someone else’s wine in my home.”

However, Layla’s next words crushed Roger’s hopes, plunging him back into disappointment.

With his head hanging low, he dejectedly picked up the half-empty bottle of wine from the kitchen. Experiencing two consecutive blows in one day was more than Roger could bear.

As he left the kitchen, his eyes briefly swept over the living room. Layla was casually inspecting her nails, completely ignoring him. This confirmed what Roger already suspected: the so-called love potion given to him by the professor-like man had no effect.

Slouching, Roger dragged his heavy body toward the door, his hand resting on the doorknob as he prepared to leave this heart-wrenching place.

In the living room, Layla admired her newly painted nails. She glanced at Roger’s despondent figure heading toward the door and, inexplicably, found his back much more pleasing to the eye than before.

“Wait.”

She spoke instinctively, stopping Roger in his tracks.

Hearing her voice, Roger felt no surge of excitement this time. Instead, he turned around calmly.

Layla stood up from the sofa, her gaze fixed on him. For reasons she couldn’t explain, Roger’s once-ordinary appearance now seemed brimming with charm. Memories of his unwavering devotion made her heart beat faster. She was surprised—why hadn’t she noticed this before?

“Perhaps... you could stay a little longer, Roger.”

Layla’s icy demeanor melted away, replaced with a tender tone that was almost intoxicating.

“But you—”

Roger was momentarily stunned by her sudden change in attitude.

Soon, however, he noticed the infatuation in her eyes and realized what had happened—the love potion had worked.

“Can I? I mean... of course, no problem!”

Struggling to contain his excitement, Roger stumbled over his words.

Layla stepped forward, taking Roger’s hand and leading the dazed boy back toward the living room. Her gaze never left his face.

For the first time, she noticed how captivating Roger truly was.

---

“Enjoy the love you’ve always dreamed of…”

At his home in San Marino, Allen watched Roger’s lovestruck expression on the system screen, a mysterious smile tugging at his lips.

“If you can handle it, that is.”

His eyes drifted to the wine glass on the screen, where a trace of the love potion still lingered.

“Wastefulness isn’t a good habit,” he muttered.

As Allen’s thoughts shifted, the system’s data panel showed a deduction of 500 plot points. Simultaneously, the script for The Magic Potion was revised.

---

Meanwhile, in the living room, the wine glass sitting on the coffee table suddenly tipped over.

Clink—

The glass rolled onto the carpet. A small dog named Kara, napping nearby, noticed the movement. Curious, it waddled over, sniffing the glass before lapping up the remaining wine.

“No, this is bad!”

Roger’s face, which had been glowing with joy since Layla held his hand, instantly changed when he returned to the living room and saw Kara drinking from the glass.

“What’s wrong?”

Noticing his expression, Layla followed his gaze to the dog near the coffee table. She then turned her attention back to Roger and said softly, “It’s just a little wine. It won’t harm the dog.”

“Roger, I didn’t know you cared so much about animals.”

“I’m just... a little concerned, that’s all.”

Roger forced a smile, avoiding the truth about the wine, and locked eyes with Layla’s gentle gaze.

“Woof! Woof!”

Kara, having finished the potion-laced wine, wagged its tail wildly and pawed at Roger’s pants.

“Looks like Kara likes you too, Roger,” Layla said, covering her mouth as she laughed.

“Yeah,” Roger muttered helplessly. He, the only one who knew the truth, was at a loss.

The potion’s effect was extraordinary—not only did it work on Layla, but apparently, it worked on Kara too.

Love knew no boundaries, not even species.

---

In the days that followed, Roger basked in the warmth of love.

Layla, once cold and distant, was now deeply enamored with him. She even accepted his confession and became his girlfriend. Her newfound attentiveness made Roger feel like the happiest man in the world.

The two were inseparable. Their sweet, idyllic life made Roger endlessly grateful that he had gone to the address written on that mysterious note and purchased the love potion—for only one dollar.

It gave him the perfect love he had always desired.

---

“Yawn~”

One morning, Roger stumbled groggily into the bathroom, scratching his messy hair. Half-asleep, he picked up his toothbrush to start his morning routine.

When he glanced in the mirror, he was startled to see Layla’s reflection.

His mind instantly snapped awake, and he turned to see Layla standing silently behind him.

“You scared me! When did you get here?” Roger asked, his face pale.

“Sorry, darling.”

Layla smiled sweetly and said, “I just came to tell you breakfast is ready.”

Her loving gaze met Roger’s, and the fright he’d felt moments ago quickly dissipated.

“Give me a few minutes, and I’ll be ready,” he said, his expression softening into a happy smile.

“Do you need help, darling?”

“No need. It’s just a quick wash-up—I can handle it,” Roger replied.

(End of Chapter)