Jack had been vacationing down at Miami Beach during spring break for the past week or so when it happened. He’d gotten drunk and made the mistake of hitting on this older girl. She wasn’t that much older—early 30s– and Jack felt like he had an reputation to uphold. However, his drunken lines weren’t very good, and the girl—who happened to be not just the barista, but also a witch—had enough. When he’d complimented her butterfly tattoo in a rather crude manner she smiled sweetly and then whispered something, watching him transform.

“Now you have your own tattoo, Jacqueline.” She smiled.


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