The Bird in a Cage
Summary: Howl, a wealthy CEO of a multi-billion dollar company, is threatened by anonymous letters. Bodyguards are all the rage and Howl hires only the best… ending up saddled with the infamous Mad Hatter. Sophie and Howl, AU.
WARNING: Real references from DWJ-sama!
Chapter Twenty-four
He consented
One of the negative aspects of officially living with Sophie, Howl considered, was that the woman had an incredibly deep well of energy… and the means to focus it on mildly destructive outlets. When she'd been merely sharing space with him for his protection, she allowed him to live like any man his age: in utter filth. Now that he'd personally cut her lease and claimed his home hers, she'd come undone and allowed her true nature to surge forth in a twister of cleanliness.
Howl could only sit back and watch as Sophie terrorized his prized spider collection from their homes, batting at them like a crazed baseball player. He'd intervened more than once on the argument that this was now serial killers started, slaying innocent creatures. Though he'd managed to save the lives of the arachnid population in his flat, Sophie had yet to cease and desist her efforts in turning his world upside down.
Cleanliness becomes more important when godliness is unlikely… the dark haired man mused as he pulled his feet up to avoid Sophie's vengeful broom from swiping him along with the dust and clutter that had accumulated over the week. Howl looked on miserably as Sophie pulled back her sleeves, revealing deceptively slim arms as she dominated a slow Sunday afternoon like a particularly annoyed Valkyrja.
He watched her kick up and savagely tear through the filth he reveled in with mournful eyes, but he received no sympathy from his roommate, who moved on from sweeping to mopping, swirling the mop in soapy water, wringing it and adding an undeniable shine to the floor the place had not seen since Howl had let it but a mere week ago. The air was now perfumed with the vanilla scented soap Sophie seemed to prefer and despite all of his grumblings; Howl could not help but admit that it was much homier without the vicious amount of dust, soot and bug-life. Even his beloved spiders looked much more at home, weaving new webs free from the dust Howl refused to clean. With a sigh, he allowed her to go on, though he drew the line when she attempted to stump her way into his room.
Almost like he'd transported himself, Howl stood between her and his door, moving uncommonly fast and barring her unstoppable cleaning frenzy. Despite the fact he quite liked her innovative renovations of his home, the idea that she might try to torment his room and tear it apart… it was an abominable thought. He was no longer a teenager and he had no playboy magazines to hide from curious cleaning ladies of doom, though he had no doubt if she found one she'd have a conniption and turn a fetching shade of scandalized red, but the sanctity of his room was in danger. In spite of it all, Howl was still an incredibly private man and he preferred his room to be set to his preferences rather than hers. God help him should she decide to shove her way past him and start alphabetizing his collection of books by publishing date, author and title. He shivered a little.
"Don't be nosy," he snapped when she tried to peek over his shoulder. Though she'd been in his room just two nights before, she had not looked around. Now that he was firmly in front of her to prevent her from peeking, her curiosity woke up and shone in her eyes like a laser beam.
"I'm not being nosy!" she argued, crossing her arms. Howl retaliated by propping his hands on his hips, blocking her view with the suit he loved to wear over his crisp, freshly starched shirts. "That room-!"
"You are nosy," he said, as a form of rebuke. "You're a dreadfully nosy, horribly bossy, appallingly clean woman. You're victimizing us all." He included Midnight in his reprimand, for the young kitten was currently hiding under his covers, previously frightened and shooed by Sophie in her frenzy.
"Tidying up is what I'm here for!" she threw back into his face, and Howl resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Though he'd never discouraged her enthusiasm, her main concern had never been to chase him with the broom until he begged for forgiveness.
His anger sharpened his tongue as he tartly replied, "Then you need to think of a new meaning to your life."
Sophie looked positively wounded and Howl nearly dropped like a defeated dog at her feet. He hated getting angry because it never led him anywhere and he always ended up saying something he later regretted. Seeing the apology practically oozing from his pores, Sophie softened up a little. She knew she was making life a little difficult for him, though if she afforded herself the chance to face the why directly, she knew exactly what was making her so reckless.
It did not mean she'd make it any easier for him, though. Only a little bit harder, that's all.
She therefore set the broom and mop aside, putting the pail with soapy water down as well. With a sigh, she gestured toward the puffed and newly vacuumed sofa. "Sit down and choose a movie, then. I'll make us some popcorn and we can order dinner." Howl surged forward and soundly kissed both of her cheeks in his joy, running into his room and rushing back out with Midnight and a movie in his arms.
"Ready!" He looked like a child who's Christmas had come a few days early, smiling so happily and cheerfully as he headed for the sofa. The look in his eyes was sweet, especially when she gave him permission to invite Calcifer over.
The neighboring red-head arrived with Michael in tow, who charged into the room with a bag of chips and a selection of dip. It was like some male-ritualistic version of a sleepover and Sophie almost giggled herself into a stupor as she popped the popcorn into the microwave and dialed for some pizza.
To be Continued…
Cleanliness becomes more important when godliness is unlikely – is a quote by the wonderful, and incredible P. J. O'Rourke. He has many others, but this one is the one that appeals to me the most… and reminds me strongly of Sophie and her sprees.
Almost none of the dialogue that appears is mine; instead aptly disfigured to suit my needs when it comes to trying to illustrate the life they may or may not should peace continue to hang on.
I'm a little worried.
It's the start of the third week and I'm not going for two months, but rather one. It hurts my heart to do so, but I cannot stay fully faithful to the DWJ timeline. I already tweaked it enough by going for March instead of May, now I'm shortening their period of time in which they fall in love. I am a horrible person.
Thoroughly unrepentant, too.
Words: 1,000
PS… who else is laughing about the idea of a male-sleepover? Will they indulge in a pillow fight, I wonder?