Lily had never been particularly interested in magic.
She didn't need to be. Her body was already a miracle of nature—a self-aware, self-healing, infinitely adaptable being of translucent, cuddly goo. But lately, she'd been feeling… inadequate.
It had started small. A news story about a newscaster who used wind spells to style her hair live on-air. A viral video of a dolphin girl who could freeze a pond with a flick of her tail. Then, one night, Mirio mentioned that his coworker's fiancée was an elf who conjured little fire wisps to light dinner candles.
Lily didn't say anything at the time.
But the next morning, Mirio woke up to find her hunched over his phone, watching beginner-level magic tutorials on mute.
"…Lily?" he yawned.
She spun around and held up the phone. "Hubby… magic!"
He rubbed his eyes. "You want to learn magic?"
She nodded quickly, bouncing slightly. "For hubby."
He smiled. "You don't have to impress me, you know. I love you as you are."
But she was already dragging him out of bed.
Ten minutes later, she had a summoning circle drawn on the kitchen tile in jellybeans and bottlecaps.
"Lily… I don't think this is how you—"
Poof.
She ignited the entire floor with a fizzing, gooey pop.
When the smoke cleared, she was still standing. Sort of.
Mirio blinked. "Where… where did you go?"
Then he heard a slow, wet squelch.
From behind the counter, a square-shaped blob slid into view.
It was bright green. Clear. And… cube-shaped.
Inside it, hovering in the middle, was Lily's glowing blue core—and her embarrassed face, suspended in the middle like a helpless plush toy inside a vending machine.
Mirio stared. "You turned yourself into a gelatinous cube."
She wobbled in place, then made a sad blorp.
"Oh no…"
He crouched next to her. "Are you okay?"
She tilted inside the cube, her whole body jiggling faintly.
"Can you… undo it?"
A pause.
Then another blorp.
Mirio sat down beside her on the kitchen floor and sighed. "Well… you're still kinda cute like this."
She slowly slid forward and bumped into his side.
Her whole mass squished against his hip like a giant gummy bear trying to cuddle.
It was cold. Wet. Slightly citrus-scented.
"…You're really stuck, huh?"
She bobbed once, softly.
And so, began the longest half-day of Lily's life.
First came the cuddles. Or rather, Lily's attempt to do them. Without arms or legs, she resorted to flattening half of her cube body across Mirio's lap like a gelatinous heated blanket.
Every few minutes, she'd pulse a soft "Hubby…" from inside, voice muffled by goo.
He patted her gently. "I'm right here."
The glow from her core dimmed with embarrassment, then flared again when he rested his hand on top of her cube head like a pet.
Next came the attempts to eat.
She tried to slurp up a cookie by sliding onto it, but it just broke apart inside her, and she spent ten minutes chasing the crumbs around with a little wobbling roll.
When she tried to drink juice, she absorbed the whole glass, cup and all. Mirio had to fish it out of her center like a deep-sea diver with tongs.
He shook his head. "You're a whole disaster."
From inside the cube, she formed a soft heart shape with bubbles and wiggled proudly.
Then came the worst part: movement.
She tried to follow Mirio around the house, but every step was a fwomp, squish, fwomp, leaving a trail of sticky moisture wherever she went.
She got stuck in the hallway.
Then slid face-first into the bathroom door.
At one point, she tried to be useful and climbed onto the couch beside him—but ended up slowly absorbing one of the couch cushions into her lower half. When Mirio noticed, she had already consumed half the upholstery.
"LILY!"
Blorp.
She slowly spat the cushion back out.
Soggy.
But whole.
By noon, she was slumped helplessly in the middle of the living room like a sad, jiggly square puddle, her core spinning slowly inside her like a dizzy washing machine.
Mirio approached with a towel and a hot cup of tea.
"Still stuck?"
A tired bubble floated upward.
He sat beside her again. "Okay. Let's think this through. You tried to cast a basic transmutation spell, but you have no spell matrix, no channeling focus, and no real magical training."
She wobbled once.
"I think your slime body absorbed the magic like raw mana and freaked out. You basically short-circuited yourself into the nearest magical form you recognized."
She blinked slowly.
Then formed a tiny smiley face in her upper left corner.
"…You thought gelatinous cubes were cute, didn't you?"
She didn't answer.
Mirio chuckled and leaned against her side. "You're lucky I love you no matter what. Even if you're a mobile, sentient Jell-O square."
She slowly rolled her entire mass around him in a partial hug, muffled purring echoing from inside her body.
It was surprisingly warm.
By early evening, Lily began to glow brighter.
Her mass pulsed, the shape starting to ripple at the corners.
"Are you… changing back?"
She pulsed again.
The cube shivered.
Then… collapsed.
Into a gooey puddle.
Then swirled upward.
And re-formed.
Arms. Legs. Tentacle-hair.
Breasts.
Hoodie.
And a face.
A blushing, sheepish, very human-like Lily.
"Hi, hubby…" she whispered.
He wrapped her in a tight hug. "Welcome back."
She melted against him.
"I… maybe not do magic again…"
"Maybe stick to hugs."
"…Can still cuddle cube form sometimes?"
He groaned. "Only if you don't eat my couch again."
"No promises."
They both laughed.
And she didn't leave his side for the rest of the night.