DISCLAIMER: IDON'T OWN HOWL'S MOVING CASTLE

GLOW

Part 1: Have we met before?

"It's your turn," Sophie arched a challenging eyebrow at Howl, a laughing smile tingeing her chocolate colored irises. Blue eyes darted back and forth, assessing the situation and to her further delight, Howl frowned slightly, giving him an innocent pout, like a boy who was being denied a toy he wanted, or a sweet. Another moment's pause and the great wizard slumped a little in his chair, his elbows splaying as he rested his chin, defeated, in his hands (still pouting too.)

"You know I don't have any other moves. You're just egging me on," he half-accused, half-grumbled, leaning back and stretching. "We're going to have to find a different game to play, since you keep beating me at this one." Sophie laughed and Howl had to struggle to keep the dejected expression on his face; he liked—no, he loved—her laugh. She didn't do it often, though she did smile more these days than those of the war, and he reveled in its sparkling nature. All the witches and wizards in the world could not cast a spell like the one you have over me, he mused, the dejected look falling completely from him to be replaced by a very warm and knowing one. To which, Sophie tilted her head to one side in question as if to say, what? "Have I told you I find you beautiful today?" he smoothly answered her silent inquiry and she rolled her eyes.

"Flattery will never win you a game of chess," Sophie smiled and laced her fingers together, resting her chin on the backs of her hands. The very picture of reserved and in-control, she dissolved into something more resembling a picture of surprise and speechlessness as Howl closed the distance between them, his hands suddenly on her shoulders, standing behind her. He bent to bring his face next to hers, lips grazing her ear slightly.

"Mm, maybe so, but outside of a game of chess, what might flattery get me," he paused and dropped his voice to a whispering quality, "Hm, Sophie?" The hatter felt heat rush to her face—a little out of her inherent shyness, more out of proximity—and turned toward him.

"Well, it won't get you out of cleaning duty today," she tried to tease in order to buy herself time to regain her composure, but Howl would have none of that and he leaned in closer, very gradually, but closer still.

"We are so certain of ourselves today, my love," he breathed, his tone clearly amused with her, against the nape of her neck and she gave an internal sigh of defeat. He would not be denied, it seemed.

"You don't play fair outside of chess, so it hardly matters how certain I am," she said, staring into his eyes, glad enough to let herself fall into their blueness. In response to this, Howl simply tipped her chin up slightly and brought his lips to hers, savoring something very human and something very otherworldly—desire and love, respectively. Sophie ran her hand lazily through his hair, still black as he never did dye it back. She didn't mind, as she found him attractive in both hair colors and regardless of hue, Howl was still Howl, which she was quickly remembering as he continued his engagement with her mouth, was a good thing. He trailed the tips of his fingers lightly down the side of her neck and Sophie's breath caught. She wasn't certain what was about to happen next but she would have to speculate if she wanted any idea because the door rattled a little and they broke their kiss just as Markl, Heen and the witch barreled in. Well, Markl barreled, Heen trotted and the witch kind of meandered in, but regardless, it was plenty reason enough for Sophie and Howl to recompose themselves. Howl now stood, leaning carelessly on the table's edge beside Sophie who busied herself returning the chess pieces to their starting points. Markl paused at the table, eyeing the board's quickly dissimilating end.

"She beat you again, hm?" he looked up at Howl who started to shrug and mumble something contrary until Sophie gently, but firmly, elbowed him and he admitted defeat.

"Mm, a game," the witch said absently as she made her way at her own pace to the sofa. Heen ran in circles.

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It was late afternoon, bordering on evening when Sophie was walking through town, on her way back to the shop, and therefore back to the castle.

Howl had—since the rebuilding of the castle—placed the portals again. There was the blue which was once more for Port Haven, the yellow which was for her town and the shop, the green which was still for the wastes or in this case, the sky if they were in the air, and the pinkish red for their secret garden. They had a small courtyard type thing on the outside of the castle but they did not use the door for that. Howl had made an ingenious little exit out of the side of a window and conjured up some ladder-type thing that somehow accommodated someone as small as Markl and someone as large as the witch. Heen, when he went down, used his ears to sort of float down and that suited him fine.

The setting sun cast an even gold over the town and Sophie let her eyes wander to the sky, all dusky and twilight-ridden as she continued to make her way through the quiet and empty streets. It seemed everyone had retired to their homes today about the same time, which was not unusual in peacetime. Her boots clicked against the cobblestone of the street in a soft rhythm and the lamps began to ignite as they did each night when an unsettling wind rustled through the center of town, causing her skirts to billow slightly and her hand to clutch her hat to her head. Not entirely satisfied that she was alone, Sophie turned and scanned the area.

No one.

Hm. She shrugged it off and kept on walking at a measured and even pace. If there was indeed someone particularly stealthy following her there was no need to alert them that she had noticed. Act normal, she recalled a certain wizard telling her, and suppressed a smile. The wind came again, this time distinctly unnatural with a whistling echo and Sophie let slip an "Oh!" as—having let go seconds earlier—her hat flew off her head, floating around a corner. Exasperated, Sophie half-considered not going after it. Certainly she was not at a shortage for hats! However, this one was special. It was the one that she had thought forever lost to Madame Sulliman's staff. More precisely, it was that hat, but repaired. Somehow—and she was careful not to press too inquiringly exactly how—Howl had managed to retrieve it for her, and then in a much more explainable manner, fix it as good as new. Something of her old life that she did not wish to lose was embodied in that hat, and so, squaring her shoulders, she turned the corner to retrieve it.

Again, no one. Sophie repressed an indignant exhalation. To think she had been worried! And at what? The air? Shaking her head, she picked her hat up, and turned to continue on her way, running into something as she did so—or rather, someone.

"Oh, excuse me," she pardoned herself, backing up a step and stumbled, peering at the stranger before her. Donning a pressed and tailored black suit, coat tails and all, a man with white hair and green eyes stood in front of her, clearly unfazed by their brief run-in. His bangs were uneven at best and the overall tousled look of his hair didn't quite fit with his debonair attire, but it suited him, the white of his hair off-setting the white of his crisp white collared-shirt perfectly.

"Not a problem," the stranger waved a hand dismissively and Sophie inclined her head slightly, moving as if to leave when his hand firmly—but not harshly—planted itself on her shoulder. "Why the hurry, Sophie?" Her heart dropped and she spun around, flinching away from his touch.

"I don't know who you are, but I think you'd better leave now," she said this with more courage and boldness than she felt.

"But I just got to town my dear," his green eyes smiled at her in a way she was not comfortable with and before she could stop him, his right hand had reached across to grab her left.

"How I could be dear to someone I have never met before escapes me, but if you would be so kind, I really must be going," Sophie insisted a little more vehemently this time and snatched her hand back, rounding the corner in a hurry. The stranger shook his head, not the least bit undone by her abrupt flee.

"Ah, but you have met me before, Miss Hatter," he drawled lazily to nothing but the stillness of the air around him, and chuckled slightly. He could still hear the click and clack and tap of her boots hitting the cobblestone rather fiercely. A small frown graced his lips; he had not actually meant to frighten her so, just to surprise her. Ah well...

He would fix that soon enough. After all, he always got what he wanted—he smiled at the thought of Sophie, thinking how well her starry hair suited her—and no one would stop him.

"Not even Howl," he seemed to muse to himself and exited the side-alley, turning the corner in the same direction Sophie had headed, whistling to himself as he walked the empty street.

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First fic! Sorry I'm new. I don't even know if I should keep writing this….ahhh!

Xx

-Howl's Hatter