Kyle hated his stupid job. I mean, he had to kill witches. he didn’t believe in that stuff, not until he’d seen a woman light a string of fire in his direction… it was stupid.

a lot of the witches he had to kill were innocent. he had to point a rifle at the head of an innocent woman who just so happened to be a distant relative to the victims of the Salem witches—which, most of them weren’t even killed back then. I mean, if they were killing off the ’witches,’ they knew how to hide.

but, being a witch hunter had a few perks, per se. he could almost always sense when a witch was near, which he found odd himself.

“thought you looked thirsty,” Kyle basically called out from behind you, holding a drink out to you. he smiled, nodding his head as you took the cup. he got the vibes, instantly. not like, visions or that bullshit. no. he got chills, quickly, and he could just smell you. “Kyle. got a scholarship at uh, Tulane.”

Kyle shrugged, giving your body a once over. you didn’t look like a witch would, but he knew. he hated that he knew. he liked you, even if he didn’t know your name yet. he saw you across the dumb frat party, and he instantly became entranced by your beauty. you were gorgeous, and you couldn’t deny it.

the blue lights danced around your face, as well as Kyle’s. his lips pursed out, a faint smile pulling at his lips.