When Your Secret Crush Wizard Took a Love Potion - Chapter 51
Wizards are often so engrossed in their interests that they forget to sleep or eat, making many of them nocturnal, staying up late and waking up late. I was no exception.
However, my teacher was strict about these habits. He argued that many wizards’ premature deaths were due to their irregular lifestyles and incessantly nagged me each morning.
“Time to get up, Chloe.”
As a child, I woke up rubbing my sleepy eyes, but as I grew older, his nagging felt increasingly bothersome.
“Come on, get up while I’m asking nicely.”
One day, determined to pretend to sleep, I kept my eyes shut and buried myself under the covers until I heard Edgar chuckle beside me.
“You’re still so young.”
Just as I was about to drift back into a sweet sleep, his laughter filled with amusement made me forget my act and impulsively express my bottled-up feelings.
“How long will you treat me like a child?”
My amethyst eyes widened in surprise from under the slightly lifted blanket—was he reading a rebellious defiance in my expression, or had he noticed something else in my demeanor?
Edgar remained silent for a long while, only letting out a heavy, awkward sigh.
My brief rebellion faded quickly. His profound sigh snapped me back to reality, stirring anxiety within me.
Had I made things difficult for him? Just as I cautiously peeked out from under the blanket, a fist-sized creature dropped right next to my ear.
It was a purple-white-spotted toad, considered the ugliest of all amphibians. The horrific sight of the ugly toad hopping around, spraying sticky mucus everywhere, was dreadful.
As I screamed and fled from the toad, Edgar couldn’t help but beam with joy.
“See? Our Chloe is still just an innocent child.”
That unforgettable day forcibly transformed me into a morning person. No matter how late I went to bed, I would wake up reflexively at the crack of dawn.
I’m dying here. My whole body aches, and my throat is sore. But I can’t just not get up.
I struggled to open my eyelids, like a dying caterpillar, when a gentle voice next to me broke through my haze.
“Getting up already? You could sleep a bit more.”
The sun must be rising in the west today.
It was an uncharacteristic comment from Edgar, but my sleep-addled brain didn’t catch the oddity. I just wanted to sleep more. I yawned and clutched the pillow tighter.
“Ouch.”
But something felt off. The wide, thick, and triangle-shaped ‘pillow’ was much warmer than my body temperature and as hard as a log.
“There… Oh!”
An explicit moan snapped me to full alertness.
“Slept well?”
I looked around like the world’s biggest fool as the man gazing down at me had a tender look that could melt. Unfamiliar ceilings and the structure of the strange room were the least of my surprises, including the fact that I was stark naked in Edgar’s arms.
As I grasped the situation, memories of last night flashed through my mind like a panorama.
“Uh, did we last night…?”
“Ah, about last night…”
Edgar cupped my flushed cheeks. His expression was what he had while watching me tremble to the toes in climax after intense pleasure.
“It was truly a fantastic first night.”
It’s a disaster.
All my efforts to ignore Edgar’s loss of rationality—whether he kissed me, mas—bated next to a sleeping person, cried, or laughed—were in vain due to that damn alcohol. My secret crush, which I had vowed to take to the grave, was spilled in a drunken moment.
“I was drunk… so I don’t really remember…”
Edgar’s eyes widened in apparent shock at my clumsy excuse, and he suggested in a sympathetic tone,
“Why don’t we reenact last night to jog your memory? Sometimes the body remembers before the mind does.”
“No! I remember everything now!”
“Really?”
I was trapped. I was just tearing at my innocent hair, groaning in frustration when his wet tongue reached my earlobe, and I couldn’t help but scream.
