“You sure you’re qualified for this?” the sheriff asked, blatantly skeptical even as he led the way towards the morgue. “You look a little...young.”
Mark chuckled, the sound awkward and just a little wry to his own ears. The sheriff wasn’t wrong. He was twenty-three. It made Mark wonder what the man would think if he knew Mark had been doing this since he was even younger.
“I’m uniquely qualified, actually.” Unfortunately. He gave the sheriff a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “Don’t worry, though, sheriff. If I fail, you don’t have to pay or anything.” I’ll probably be dead, after all.
(or, Mark has it rough, and magic was supposed to be better than...this.)
Bookmarked by LexiRod99
02 Jun 2020
What the actual fuck, this is the best thing I've read in the last five years.
TOTALLY RE-READING MATERIAL.