Gray really doesn't suit her, Howl thought once more, watching the pretty redhead weave through pairs of girls and their admirers. Perhaps a light green would suit her best, or the lightest sky blue—soft colors, you know—but not gray. Never gray. It almost covered that stunning sparkling of her brown eyes.

Howl should have made more of an effort to keep her: said something more charming, flashed her his dazzling smile, or at the very least run after her, but his legs wouldn't have been up for it. They felt shaky like jelly, which was very odd indeed because Howl's legs had never felt like jelly towards a girl before. His heart had beat fast, his mind had obsessed, but his legs had always been quite healthy. This thought terrified him, and Howl suddenly found himself very glad that the girl did run off. He was a coward after all, and courageous acts like facing a girl who turned one's legs to jelly were quite out of his character.

So Howl spotted another young girl and went to talk with her. Then another. Then another. But each time that pretty redhead came to mind, and no matter how many pretty girls he talked to, none seemed as grab him as she had. He couldn't deny it. He was once again caught, but this time was different. It was inevitably heavy, and this possibility of being pined down terrified him even more

Feeling quite ill, Howl escaped back to his castle where he leaned heavily against the magic door. Calcifer was leaning out of the grate, his flames flickering high with curiosity.

"Met a girl?" He asked.

"Several," Howl replied.

"Which one caught your heart? I felt it skip, you know."

"There's just too much loveliness in Market Chipping, I supposed I was moved," Howl said, crossing the room. "Heat up the bath, would you?"

He remained in there for not two, but four hours, hoping to wash away the image of her weaving through the crowd of girls. It didn't quite work, but as he stood staring in the mirror, wondering what color to call her hair, Howl found comfort in the realization that he most likely would never see her again. On that cheery thought, he grabbed the guitar, confident enough to go out to court more girls.

So it was painful irony when she appeared in his castle not a day later. He was confused at first how an old and unarguably cursed woman could get Calcifer to bend his flames for her. He thought it was witchcraft, but when he saw the woman's wretched sparkling brown eyes, Howl suspected it was her, and if it was, the coercion of his stubborn fire demon and finicky heart was caused by something much more dangerous than witchcraft. If Howl wasn't careful, he knew he might fall in love, and that thought terrified him most of all.