Bad Witches Have More Fun . . . Sometimes
Azana stared down at the black cauldron-shaped cup, the phrase “Bad Witches Have More Fun” painted in bright orange on the front. It was at this moment that she absolutely despised her boyfriend.
Or at least allowing him to stay with her.
She looked up at said human in front of her, a Cheshire-grin growing on his lips.
Her eye twitched, “What?”
“How do you like it?”
“You mean this?” She pointed at the cup, lifting it up with her aura, the bright yellow contrasting with her irritation.
“I got it just for you!” he cheered. “I saw it at the bookstore in the Halloween section–”
Usually, she could tell what humans were thinking . . .
“–they had it with all the Wiccan stuff–”
Why they did what they did . . .
“–but I knew you wouldn’t like the books on Wicca, since you hate it so much–”
It was no magic, just an instinct she had developed over time . . .
“–but this! This cup is really cool! I thought you should have it–”
So, why in the hell did this man-child always seemed to baffle her?!
A sigh escaped her lips as she placed the cup back down. “I’m sorry. But I can’t accept this.”
His grin melted away. “But why not? I got it just for you.”
“It’s supposed to be ironic or something.”
“No. I don’t even have room for it. My kitchen is too small.”
“Take it to work, then.”
Her brows knitted into a frown. “Seriously? I work with family. I can’t have it there.”
“But I thought . . . I don’t know. You are always misplacing your coffee cups or having them supposedly stolen by that one chick–”
“–yeah. I thought at least with this, you’d have a cup that was completely yours. And if Chelsea tried to steal it, you’d know right away.”
She forced herself to stare into his hazel eyes and scowl as harshly as she could, ignoring his puppy dog pout. “No.”
“Take it back.”
“Oh, come on, Azana! Liven up your office. It’s always so dreary in there.”
“I said no.”
“But, you don’t–”
“End. Of. Discussion.”
He opened his mouth but was interrupted by the grandfather clock sounding its presence with seven great booms.
“We have to leave.” She grabbed her briefcase and laptop bag. “Come on.”
He followed her out the door, his messenger bag with the animated pop-idol print dragging behind him.
She ignored him as she locked the door behind them. He hopped on his moped and put on his helmet, trying to catch her eye before he left with his pouting lips. She made sure to keep her eyes on her front seat as she loaded up.
He hung his head in defeat.
She kept her eyes on the steering wheel, listening to him scooting out of the driveway and onto the street. A few seconds later she heard the tiny monster coming to life, then buzzing away.
Azana allowed herself to breathe.
No more guilt trip.
She leaned over to hook up her phone–
Her phone was . . .
She grabbed her keys and rushed back into the house. She ran to the counter and grabbed her phone, bumping the cauldron cup off, sending it straight to the floor.
“Thank God it’s plastic.” She bent down, noticing the bottom.
A golden ‘A’ was painted with curling lines. Like a Cheshire-grin.
Azana sat at her desk, trying to organize the mess of papers and files, when a young man knocked on her door.
Reagan walked in, a cross expression popping up on his usually solemn face.
“That.” He pointed towards the small cauldron-shaped cup. “What is that?”
She shrugged. “I thought it was cute.”
“It’s supposed to be ironic.”
He shook his head, laying a few more files on her desk. “You and your human.”
He left, closing the door behind him.
She chuckled. It was always fun to annoy him.
Though, she knew if her mother had seen the cup . . .
She shrugged off the thought, looking at the new files. She wrapped her fingers around the handle of her cup and lifted it to her lips. For some odd reason, her special coffee brew tasted better in this cauldron.
But she’d never admit that to him.
© E.N. Chaffin 2017. All rights reserved. Any reproduction without author permission is against the copyright laws of the United States of America.
against the copyright laws of the United States of America.