Page 60 of Summer L.A.W.

“Heart-chakra resonance,” she countered.

He adjusted his glasses. “It’s reacting to heat.”

“It’s reacting to hope.”

For a moment, neither spoke. The liquid pulsed softly, as if it were listening to them argue.

Wally squeaked and dropped the laser pointer into the cauldron. A tiny burst of light shot up, briefly painting their faces in rose and gold.

“Wally!” Magda scooped him up and set him on the floor. “Bad familiar. No electronic sacrifices to Venus.”

Sebastian peered at the glowing mixture. “Actually, that increased luminescence by eighteen percent.”

Magda arched an eyebrow. “So, the magic worked.”

“I said luminescence, not magic.”

She smirked. “You keep saying that word. I don’t think it means what you think it means.”

They both watched the potion swirl, light dancing in its depths like slow fireworks. Then she reached for a small pipette and dipped it in. “Moment of truth.”

“Wait! Protocol requires dilution first⁠—”

She touched a drop to her wrist. A gentle warmth spread up her arm. “Mmm. Feels like first crushes and impending stomach butterflies.”

“Magda!” He snatched her hand and checked her pulse. “You can’t just apply untested compounds to living tissue.”

She smiled at him. “Relax. I’m still breathing, aren’t I?”

His fingers lingered against her skin longer than necessary. The warmth wasn’t all chemical or magical.

For a heartbeat, the world shrank to the space between them. The hum of the centrifuge faded, the cauldron’s glow softened, and even Wally stilled, sensing something more interesting than a red dot.

“Your concern is touching, but I know only harmless botanicals are in it.”

Sebastian released her hand abruptly and took a step back. “We’ll, uh… need a full compositional analysis.”

“Of course.” She pretended to jot a note, though her pen trembled slightly. “And maybe a follow-up test. For consistency.”

He nodded too quickly. “Reproducibility is essential.”

“Absolutely. Science demands reproduction.”

Their eyes met again, and the air went hot enough to steam the greenhouse windows.

Wally sneezed. The spell, if it was one, broke.

They returned to work with forced professionalism. He adjusted his spreadsheets; she cleaned her tools with exaggerated care. Every movement said, I’m totally fine, and every stolen glance said, you’re wrong.

An hour later, Sebastian leaned over the laptop. “Preliminary data suggests an unstable compound. It keeps polarizing toward the positive spectrum, which shouldn’t happen.”

Magda tipped her head. “Positive energy. I told you… hope.”

“Or contamination.”

She smirked. “Could be the same thing, depending on who you ask.”

He sighed but didn’t argue. In fact, he looked almost impressed.