a/n: This chapter initially came out "sideways." It's 200 words over my personal limit, but I like it much better now!
"Howl's Love Advice"
Chapter 11: Centrifugal Forces
Two months earlier…
The number of winks and compliments that Howl lavished upon his female coworkers emphasized his most convivial mood.
How could he not be generous after last night?
After all, his Alma Mater's rugby team had won the Regional playoffs!
In celebration, Howl was wearing his rugby jacket to the office. It was trimmed in gold and the sleeves were a cardinal red. The harlequin-patterned vest sported the colors of coral and lavender. On the back splayed the words "WIZARDS RUGBY, USK." The University of the Sciences in Kingsbury had chosen a wizard for their mascot because the students had determined that they were obviously as ingenious as the magical.
Sure, the jacket was a few years antiquated, but there was no denying how good it looked on Howl. It was also in mint condition, and Howl planned on keeping it that way.
He slipped the pretty secretary a rare coupon to the Hatter's Boutique before strolling down the aisle to his own famed desk: Desk 27. He thrived on the attention he received along the way, even stopping to discuss last night's game with the few males whose egotism could hold their own against his.
Howl arrived at his destination and snagged a piece of mail from the pile spilling across his keyboard.
"Ah, from Jasper M., December nineteenth," Howl read aloud, leaning against his desk and crossing his feet at the ankles. Betty slowed her typing and angled in to listen.
"'Dear Doctor Pendragon. I have been reading your column for some time. Your advice has been entertaining and totally irrelevant to my life - until now,'" Howl read in a dramatic voice, causing Lucy to giggle. "'What would you say to a cynical, hard-hearted man who has suddenly fallen in love?'"
Howl grinned. "I dunno, Marianne, what's it like to fall in love?"
"Why, I don't know, Howl," came the brunette's immediate response from the right, her dark eyes sparkling as she twirled her phone cord. "Like eating chocolate and taking a bubble bath, I suppose."
Roger snorted good-naturedly. "Sacrificing your dignity and your wallet is more like it."
Howl trashed the unfinished letter and paced the aisle. "Boring," he declared. "The concept of falling in love is severely romanticized."
"Finally someone with common sense!" a man grumbled as he walked past.
"What an un-love-doctory thing to say," Marianne scolded.
"No, Howl has a point," Roger commented. "It's this unrealistic 'the stars are aligning' sort of thing."
"Exactly!" Howl said, his feet planting solidly in the middle of the aisle. "Why not interpret falling in love as... literal?"
He smirked and then, as if to emphasize his point, theatrically flung his arms into the air. Everyone watched in horror as a floor mouse turned the corner and walked straight into them.
The woman gasped and desperately fumbled with her coffee tray.
Howl responded without thinking.
(Later that day)
Dear Jasper:
Falling in love...
It's a centrifugal force.
It is a desperate dive at a forty-five degree angle and your body slamming into hers, her coffee burning down your favorite harlequin coat, the both of you tumbling to the ground.
Your strong hands are saving her from uncertain doom, gripping her shoulders. Then her braid is unraveling towards the floor.
The sleeves of your favorite, mint-condition jacket are drowned in coffee but you are taken by her fearful, brown eyes.
If you have not physically experienced a sudden encounter such as this, then you have certainly not fallen in love. In fact _ l
Howl abruptly spun away from the keyboard and stared at the "WET FLOOR" sign. His coworkers sent him questioning looks.
His mind's eye could remember her mouth, her uniform, the ink-stained tips of her fingers.
But for the life of him!
"What on earth is her name?"