Chapter one: a prisoner is attempted to be captured
"What are you doing Sophie?" Howl asked a look of interest on his handsome face that Sophie knew was a lie. "You know what I'm doing Howl. I don't think you are stupid, though you act childish and never take anything seriously." She answered and gave him a matter-o-fact look to go with this witty remark. He gave her a fake wounded look. "My beautiful Sophie," He said dramatically with a hand to his heart. "You wound me painfully!" "Oh, woe is you!" she remarked, adding a fictional swoon for effect. "I thought I was the only one who could be dramatic in this house!" Howl remarked as a look of surprised swept across his face that looked so realistic Sophie almost believed it. I said ALMOST. They lay in the meadow that howl had used as a getaway in his childhood. Sophie put down the daisy chain she had been having no difficulty stringing and grabbed Howl's hand before he could protest and began tracing lines, circles and all kinds of squiggles on his palm as he fell asleep. Suddenly, and very quickly, Howl's hand snapped shut like a Venus flytrap had just caught its evening meal. "Howl!" she squeaked, "Let go of my hand!" "It's mine now." A devilish grin across his face and, to Sophie's both surprise, and utter dismay, made him even more charming.
"Howl!" She wined putting on her best puppy dog eyes. "Nope! Those eyes of yours won't get you out of this one my pretty!" putting on one of his best witch cackles. Sophie face went into the best glowering state she could manage. "What do you want?" She huffed. "Oh, nothing much," he said examining his flawless nails with the hand that was not keeping Sophie's imprisoned. "Just your soul!" He said, making a wild grab for Sophie while pulling her closer by the hand he had captured and kissing her. She couldn't help but giggle about it after he finally let go.
