I drew a picture. .

And then I wrote this. It's not very good, but it was fun. Enjoy!~

"Perfect..."

The Witch Princess peered down into the cauldron, a malicious smirk playing upon her lips. She finally mastered her potion. After many years, she FINALLY completed making it. The witch threw back her head, laughing with delight, but her laughter quickly stifled as she realized that she needed to test it... But on who?

She sighed as she climbed down the ladder that lead to the top of her gigantic cauldron, now stumped. Perhaps she could use it on the farmer, Jack? No, she didn't really care for him. The Harvest Goddess? EW! Heck no! Hm, then who?

As the last rays of sun shone through the window, she suddenly had an idea. Of course! How on earth could she forget him? As she grabbed a small bottle, and filled it with the pink potion, another thought occurred to her. Yet she dismissed it, and slipped the corked bottle into her pocket before stepping outside. She quickly glanced around the garden, then murmured a spell...

The Witch Princess opened her eyes, to find herself standing in the middle of a graveyard. She smiled in satisfaction, heading for the building beside the cemetery. As she placed her hand upon the building's side, a burning feeling enveloped her hand, but she ignored it, her heart pounding. She whispered another spell, and her body vanished from sight. She walked over to the front door of the building, and grasped the handle. She nearly cried out from the pain, both from her hand and from the furious beating of her heart. The witch shook her head, and opened the door barely a crack. She slipped inside, and glanced around before darting behind some pews even though she was invisible.

She saw the object of her affections look up from his reading, furrow his brows, then go back to reading. The Witch Princess simply sat there, entranced by the man's appearance. He seemed to glow with a holy light, his dirty blond hair occasionally falling into his light gray eyes. Unconsciously, she reached up and tried to smooth her own matted hair down, again forgetting that she was see-through. She continued to watch him for another hour, completely unaware of the time. Finally, the man closed his book, and entered the small confessional for a minute or two. He then reemerged, having taken off his robes. He lit a small candle, and shuffled around the church, blowing out all the candles around the altar and along the walls.

As she watched him, the Witch Princess then remembered what she had come for. She hid behind a curtain, and snaked her hand out, pushing the curtain back a bit so she could have proper access, the tiny bottle of potion clasped tightly in her hand. She closed her eyes, and took a deep breath as she placed the bottle down. She then heard a gasp and the sound of something hitting the floor. The witch looked down, and gasped herself. She had been so intent on sneaking the man the potion that she had lost her focus on her spell. Meaning that she was now visible.

She darted her hand back behind the curtain, terrified of being caught, but she knew it was too late, now.

"Oh, Majo...You frightened me," a curt voice said.

Now she was definitely caught. She sighed, then walked out from the curtain, her eyes stinging with tears for some reason.

"Carter..." she murmured.

She looked up at him, as he picked up the tiny candle, and lit it again.

"Is there something you need?" he asked, setting the lit candle onto the table. He eyed the bottle of potion there, with a skeptical look.

She pursed her lips, glanced at the bottle, then back at his perfect features. Well, they would be perfect if his face was a little leaner, but his slight chubbiness was what made him so adorable. She then noticed that she had been staring, and thus quickly looked back at the potion. 'Might as well be blunt...'

"I want you to drink that," she said, pointing to the bottle.

Carter looked at the bottle, then back at her. "This?"

"Yes."

He picked up the bottle, and opened it. The Witch Princess watched with baited breath as he sniffed it.

"What is it?"

"A love potion," she blurted, but quickly clamped a hand over her mouth. Ah! Now he most certainly wouldn't drink it!

"...a love potion...?" he repeated, then corked it again, turning to her. "Why would you want me to drink it, then? It is against the Church regulations for a clergyman to dwell in the sin of lust."

"It's because I love you!" she cried out, and staggered back, utterly dumbfounded by her brash statement.

Carter's face grew stormy, and he shook his head. "Majo... I apologize, but I do not feel the same why. As I had said," he turned around, and took the candle from the table, blowing out the large on the same table, "I am not allowed to dabble in that sort of thing, even if I did care for you." And with that, he briskly walked off.

The Witch Princess was shrouded in darkness, her tears spilling down her cheeks. She couldn't believe her stupidity. She had known that he would refuse; he was so hard to trick. She began her slow trudge to the church door, carefully moving around the pews in the dark. She reached the door, and turned around, but could see no more lights. Carter must have blown out his tiny candle. Although...why would he do that? She then felt a hand under her chin, lifting her face upwards. Before she could cry out, something soft pressed against her lips, taking her breath away. She stepped back, and leaned against the door, her whole back feeling as it were aflame, yet it didn't compare to how her heart felt.

"You are banished from this church... Forever," Carter whispered, as he pulled away from the kiss.

The witch gaped at him, though not from his words, but from the fact that he moved away. Although it was short-lived as she felt the burning in her back disappear, being replaced with the coolness of the night. She fell back onto the ground, and looked up at Carter. His head was lowered, his hair covering his face making it appear completely black, yet she could just barely make out the glimmer of moonlight, as if there was a droplet of water where his eyes would be. 'A tear?' she concluded, just as the doors of the church slammed shut. She quickly stood up, and grabbed the handle, but was knocked back by a strange force. She cried out, as she fell again. She stood up shakily, and stared at the building, willing the doors to open again, but knowing that they would not.

'A tear...' she thought again, closing her eyes.

A teardrop.

'You finish reading and have an urge to write your own Warter.'

Go do it now. And tell me. I love this couple.