February Breath

Disclaimer: Well now, this is just getting tiresome. Would I, the queen of laziness, be writing one of these if I owned anything other than my minor OC's and plot?

A/N: As promised, the content matter is getting happier and less despair-slash-heartbreak-slash-pain and all that :D This was soooo much fun to write; there are parts in this chapter I've wanted to get to for a looong long time. This is one of those chapters where you may find yourself going "Finally!" I shall say no more—read on! (Also something might be off with the format, namely the spacing…ignore me if I'm being stupid, still ignore it if it looks weird.)

I almost forgot—I confess, I'm finally reading the book for the second time in three days! (Not all that amazing once you consider it, but with my schedule it's a miracle.) It's so good! Diana Wynne Jones is a genius. I really want to read the other related books too. Anyway! I'm not nearly as much of a genius but this is my story :)

Chapter 7

"Yeah, so, this is my room." The two had, mercifully and with much commentary from Calcifer prior to their leaving, arrived at Sophie's house right on schedule and without a snag. She was back in her regular clothes, the dress and some other things safely packed in an exact replica of her backpack that Howl had taught her how to conjure. Her parents had completely swallowed her story and Sophie had phoned her best friend just to be sure everything was alright with her. She couldn't thank her enough. She had wanted to tell her everything, but then Howl had pointed out that the Witch could easily figure out that she knew and go after her. Sophie's mouth shut like a steel trap after that and she made up the excuse of just getting away from home for a little while, going to the next town over and staying in a small inn for the night.

She was so tired from staying up late with Maria, she told her family, that she was going to bed right after dinner. Besides, she wanted Howl the womanizer away from her innocent (and prettier) sisters. The one helpful thing he'd done so far was put up a sound barrier around Sophie's bedroom so they couldn't be heard talking with each other. That wouldn't be pretty. "Sophie, are you hiding a boy under your bed?" "No Mom, don't worry, he's just a temporarily invisible but gorgeous wizard, so no worries!"

Sophie's room was pretty much the attic of the house, but well-insulated as well as with a window facing the south. It was her choice to live on the third floor, she said. Being high up combined with the peace she got was good for her. The walls were painted a deep blue, not sky-colored, not navy, just a straight-up blue that was still vibrant in its own way. Kind of like Sophie, Howl thought. Her bed, heaped with quilts, was against the right wall, extending toward the middle of the room. A cluttered desk sat in the back left of the room with piles upon piles of file folders stacked everywhere. A wooden chest and a chair were beneath the window and a colorful braided rug took up the center of the floor. The entire right wall was covered with every kind of drawing or painting one could dream up, from rough sketches and smoky charcoals to detailed still-lifes and delicate watercolors, complete with an easel folded and propped against a small section of bare wall. In the back right corner was a stereo on a stand littered with all kinds of little technological contraptions, some familiar and some unfamiliar to Howl. (He wasn't surprised he didn't recognize some of the newer inventions; he hadn't been back in Wales, in this world, to visit Megan and her family in a while. It was a little disorienting.) Draped over the beams of the high, peaked ceiling were strings of little paper lanterns with lights inside. Then gave the room a bluish glow, highlighting the loose color scheme. A door on the left wall led to a bathroom painted green. But the most un-Sophie-like thing in the room was a floor-length, two-paneled mirror also on the left wall.

Howl turned to Sophie triumphantly. "Ha. See? You have a decent-sized mirror, too."

She flushed. "Yeah, well, it's for my dance and practical things like that, not parading around like an overgrown peacock like some men I could mention."

"Ooh. Harsh." Howl was quite unperturbed; in fact, a small smile curved his lips up on one side. Sophie just shook her head and rolled her eyes, walking across the room to grab the sweats and tank top she slept in before marching to the bathroom.

She was about to slam the door for effect when she had a thought. She poked her head back out and narrowed her eyes menacingly at the wizard, who was standing in the middle of the floor with his hands in his pockets. "If you or your magic comes so much as ten feet from this door…" she threatened.

He held up his hands in a surrendering pose. Satisfied but still on her guard, Sophie spent the next half hour in the bathroom, emerging in her sleepclothes and toweling her wet hair. Even then, she left a trail of drips across the floor. At first, she couldn't see Howl and she had a second of panic before spotting him leaning lazily against the far wall, his arms folded over his chest.

"See, if I was the same as you, I would have taken four times that long in there," she teased him, in good humor now from his appropriate behavior.

"'S not fair," he grumbled childishly.

"How exactly are you planning on sleeping? I'm thinking that conjuring an extra bed, invisible or not, might pose some problems when someone walks in and slams into thin air."

He got a predictably mischievous glint in his cerulean eyes and grinned wickedly. "Who needs an extra bed?"

As she walked by him, Sophie whapped him over the head with her towel. "Not cool at all!"

"Although you did say that you sleep like a rock; maybe you wouldn't even notice if—" he kept taunting her, moving slightly closer.

"You keep your hands to yourself or I'll chop them off. And I don't mean your hands."

At this Howl winced painfully. "Alright, alright, jeez." He folded himself into the chair by the window gracefully, his lithe body reminding Sophie of a large, lazy cat. As Sophie climbed into bed under her multitude of covers that protected her from the winter chills in the air of the northeastern US, she truly started to appreciate how tired she really was. She wouldn't be surprised if she woke up and didn't recognize her own room, she was so delirious, she thought amusedly. It was only seconds before she was asleep.

In the middle of the night, Sophie awakened so silently and quickly that she hardly noticed that she was conscious. What could possibly have woken her up? Then, her eyes roving around, she caught a glance of her open window over one of her quilts and a man's shape clearly outlined in front of it. This so wasn't happening. A burglar? Just her luck. She was terrified. What if he had a gun or something? She nearly thought to scream, but realized it wouldn't do her any good, and she came close to hyperventilating. The man crossed the floor, not too fast, not too slow, but not towards Sophie either. He barely made a noise.

Ohhhh my gosh, someone's breaking into my house and he's RIGHT THERE and what are you going to do Sophie, what can you do, think, breathe evenly, don't move, what can you do… Then her train of thoughts was cut off as she realized he was moving in a straight, unhesitating line for the steps that led down to the second floor. To the rest of her house. To her parents. To Martha and Lettie. NO!

And what she did was a little bit like when she had thrown herself off that building. She didn't realize that she had so much as made a decision to move when she threw the covers off and sprang off the edge of the bed in one motion, throwing herself at the intruder's back just as he heard her move. Her only vaguely coherent thought was, Not my sisters, you bastard!!

The force knocked him to the ground, hopefully also knocking the wind out of him, and again she moved out of instinct, sitting on his back and keeping him pinned to the floor while snapping her arm around his neck in a chokehold. "Going somewhere?" she growled. Quiet Sophie, being quietly independent and strong all on her own with no one else realizing it.

The man was, she assumed, shocked into silence for a second before tremors began to shake him. He was laughing! As a general statement, that was never good. She tensed, unsure of what he might do, and then he spoke.

"Calm down, Sophie, it's only me," said a deep voice like silk around her restricting arm. Only one person in the world had that voice and would have the first thing to come out of his mouth be "calm down" when speaking to her.

Her arms loosened slightly as logic came flooding back into her senses. He just opened the window for some air… And he probably just wanted to walk around… Oh. Oh.

Howl flipped over on the floor and after a second she quickly got off him, very conscious of the fact that she had been straddling him. He sat up and coughed slightly. How did a pretty little thing like her get to be so strong, he wondered, and he voiced his curiosity.

Sophie blushed slightly at this. "It's a gift," she shrugged, offering a hand to help him up. He took it, but was obviously still very much himself because instead of pulling himself up, he pulled her down beside him. She inhaled sharply as he knelt in such close proximity to her. "Sorry about that. I didn't mean to—well, I—" she made an attempt to cover her now doubled embarrassment, looking anywhere but his eyes that were just as intense in the near-dark. When that failed she stood up quickly. Howl then did the same.

"You didn't have to tackle me, you know," he grumbled, his brief chance lost.

"You didn't have to start sneaking around in the middle of the night!" she forgot her discomfort and her temper flared slightly. "What were you doing, anyway?"

"That's my business." He was also getting more irritated by the second.

"For god's sake, Howl, you're in my house!"

"I don't deem it necessary to tell you absolutely everything."

"Clearly not. You've demonstrated that much already." Sophie planted her hands on her hips.

"I thought you slept like a rock anyhow, what happened to that?" He slithered out of the accusation.

"Something was obviously wrong with my surroundings, because you were standing there looking like a freaking burglar; that's why I woke up." She gestured toward the window and took a menacing half step toward him.

"What, so now I can't so much as breathe without giving you a heart attack? I'm that scary?" The several inches in height he had over her were particularly obvious now that he was in her face, snapping at her.

She angled her head farther up defiantly, partially to see him better. "You wish. You don't scare me."

For a moment they stood there glaring daggers at each other, sapphire meeting stormcloud gray. Then Howl had a spontaneous stroke of inspiration, and before Sophie could react in the slightest, he had caught her chin in one hand and looped his other arm around her waist. He tilted her face up and pressed his lips to hers.

Her eyes widened in utter shock. She tried to push away and protest at the same time, but Howl's lips moving expertly over hers effectively silenced her as he pulled her closer. Sophie had only ever kissed a boy a few times, and each time was only something like that of a fleeting peck during a game of truth-or-dare. This was nothing like that. And as much as she tried to hold the feeling down…she liked it. She almost forgot to breathe for a minute, and then realized she was simply dizzy with enjoyment.

Howl pulled back slightly, disengaging himself for a second, teasing her, before he swooped in again. Sophie's mind began to object to what was happening, but she shoved the disapproval away, even if she did balk a little at the fact that it was Howl who was kissing her.

Her hands were currently resting on his chest, her arms pinioned due to Howl's tight embrace. His fingertips grazed lightly along her jawline to gently brush her free-flowing hair away from her neck, sending shivers up and down her spine. She slid her hands up over his shoulders to put her arms around his neck and began to kiss him back. When he responded by tilting his head to kiss her more deeply she let out an involuntary sigh and twisted her hands in his flaxen hair that was shining silver in the moonlight coming in the window.

Sophie felt so content in his arms it almost frightened her. He was familiar just by being himself: the way he smelled of hyacinth and something else she couldn't place, his mannerisms, his kisses. And oh, how she loved it. Did she love…him? He, himself? She didn't know. The idea both thrilled her and scared her out of her wits. But how could he have ever killed her, if what he was showing now was any indication?

And it hit her. This was exactly what he had done before. The first time, and the last, he had chased after her incessantly and she had refused him. The first time, it was he who killed her. The last, too, when she considered it, if only indirectly. Maybe, she thought, just maybe, if I do allow him to pursue me…I won't die. Great. What a fantastic thought.

Howl felt her losing enthusiasm and reluctantly pulled out of the kiss. "Is something wrong?" he asked, now a little worried. What could be wrong?

"I…well…I'm scared, Howl!" she blurted out. When he blinked confusedly she clarified. "Not of this! I mean…I'm scared of the Witch, and everything to do with her, and not living to be eighteen, and—"

"Hush." He placed a finger over her quivering lips. "It's all right for now. You're safe, cariad." He hugged her to him, resting his head on hers as she buried her face in his chest. "I'm with you."

He hadn't even noticed what he'd called her until a few seconds after he said it. Cariad. He used to call her that, all the time. He waited for a minute, cherishing the time he had to hold her. He knew all too well that it wouldn't last. "But right now you need your sleep. Come on. Let's get you to bed." He guided her gently back across the room and she was asleep as soon as she was back how she had been laying before. A small smile made her lips curve up and she looked so peaceful in her beauty that it would have hurt Howl's heart if he had one. As it was, the amount protectiveness he felt made it hard to believe that he didn't. Although he knew that the real feeling should be a thousand times more intense. Calcifer should be getting that feeling right now, seeing as how he was the one in possession of Howl's heart, he thought, grimacing. At times it was so annoying to have a demon be able to feel all the emotions that he should be feeling instead. He invisibly extended and modified the chair he had slumped down in with his magic, and quite comfortable, he fell into a light sleep as well.

I awoke at 7:08 the next morning to the sight of a pair of blue eyes mere inches from mine and a beautiful voice hissing, "Sophie! Wake up, goddammit, wake up already!" My eyes opened a little more as I covered a yawn. "Chill out, chill out, it's all good—" Suddenly I remembered the events of last night and I knew there was no stopping the blush that colored my cheeks. Howl knew what I was thinking about and he gave me a dazzling, sly smile. Glancing at the clock brought me back to my senses and I yelped.

"Eight minutes late!? Crap, crap, crap…" I muttered, jumping out of bed feeling surprisingly awake and well-rested. Way too rested. I should have been exhausted. So, naturally, my first instinct was to glare at the resident wizard suspiciously.

He laughed out loud. "All right, I confess. You didn't exactly have a peaceful night so I thought I'd be doing you a favor."

I huffed. I couldn't wait until I could properly harness my powers, I thought glumly.

"What about the blue one?" Howl suddenly suggested. I blinked. I had been rifling through my drawers to find a t-shirt to wear. The one he was talking about I hadn't worn in weeks. It was a really pretty color that was similar to the color of my walls, with a V-neck shallow enough to be modest, and was slightly tighter than some of my other shirts. What the heck, I might as well listen to the wizard. The wizard who was a really good kisser… My thoughts drifted briefly before I grabbed my favorite pair of jeans and headed for the bathroom. I was out and ready to go in ten minutes, to which Howl stared at me in disbelief.

"No makeup? Nothing else? How'd you do that?" he demanded.

"No, never. My only issue is my hair." I waved a hand at the strict high braid that I had twisted my long tresses into.

"Yet you're still so beautiful." I barely caught the words he said under his breath. "Why don't you just…let it go?" He cocked his head to one side slightly.

I chose to overlook the (false) comment that I pretended not to hear. "I…I don't know. I always keep it like this."

"Ever try something new?"

I got the feeling that he was referring to more than my hair. "Hm," I considered. "Maybe it is time for a change," I murmured. "Enough seems to be turning on its head around here anyhow."

"Someone slept in—" Martha began to tease me as I bounded down a third flight of stairs into the first-floor kitchen. Then she stopped to gape at me.

"Er, Sophie? Your hair?" Lettie just looked confused. I never would have left my hair down like this, let alone actually forget to put it up without even noticing.

"No, that's intentional." I casually rummaged in a drawer for a granola bar. "I just felt like it was time for a change, you know?"

"All right…" Martha said slowly.

Next to me, a Howl visible only to my eyes smiled. See? He seemed to say.

A/N: Finally, yes? Haha, I was trying to come up with a way for it to happen as they were snapping at each other and then had this hilarious idea of Sophie not remembering that he was in her room and freaking out… Personally, my favorite line was "You keep your hands to yourself of I'll chop them off. And I don't mean your hands." I got that line from my friend at a Superbowl party, lol. Well some more funny stuff happens later, I shall keep updating if you want me to! Reviews greatly appreciated :)