“It’s a gorgeous purple, though,” Alicia smirked. Now that the worst shock and concern had worn off, she was beginning to see the fun in this. “All you need is a gold star, and you’ll be the perfect pride supporter.”
She cooed softly at his attempt at humour, though she was relieved that he hadn’t used any lethal combinations. In that, she trusted his knowledge infinitely. “Remember that bath salt you made a while back?” she asked him, and gestured for him to come along with him. “I think that might be worth a shot. Let’s go get you soaked?” Mostly, she wanted to hold him, to touch him and kiss him and promise him that she’d make the purple go away, but she had long ago learned, that him covered in potion residue wasn’t the right time to start touching him.