A/N: I just want to say thank you to everyone who favored, alerted, reviewed, and read this fic so far. It's much appreciated to know that this particular one is being read, and it's also one of my favorites to write—I guess a guilty pleasure, if you will. I hope everyone finds this next chapter somewhat enjoyable, and you're all free to share your thoughts—especially on the way everyone's curses are. I really wanted to make sure that they coincide with Sophie in some way—both positive and negative. I also want Markl (not Michael) and Howl to be a little more close, despite the curse since the circumstances are different. I feel like their relationship in the film could've been shown more since he's only ten, just my opinion. Children need love, too. As for Michael, Martha will be in this fic, too.

Also, I'm not sure when I'll have the time to update again, since I've finished the summer term and the fall term is about to start and I've got other things to update. Sorry. :[

Thank you, Best regards and Much Love,

AJ

Chapter 4: In Which Howl Calls Sophie a Terror

At around three in the afternoon, Sophie was still sleeping, and Calcifer was eyeing her with an unnerving expression as two licks of red flames—which he used for arms—reached for the last nearby log in the pile of ashes resting in his grate. He nibbled on the chopped wood while his large, dark-colored eyes observed how peaceful Sophie looked as she dreamed… until she none too subtly changed into an elderly woman in her sleep—three times in one minute—causing her to groan in pain and touch her chest as she finally remained her youthful self. It was obvious that Howl was thinking about eating her heart, even while he was away.

"…That's some curse she's got there," Calcifer murmured to Markl. He flinched for just a moment, feeling a wave of anxiety attacking the heart he had resting underneath him and thumping at an irregular rhythm. From what he could tell, Howl was highly upset, nervous, and a little guilty… but also full—quite full…

He's eaten his fill, Calcifer thought. And he's probably been greedy enough to bring another heart home. He wouldn't doubt that the shame was from Howl bringing another trophy back to the castle and adding it his collection on the shelf above the workbench… The sudden emotions were making Calcifer's demonic features morph, such as his lips, which turned an eerie shade of purple, and his face colored into a thin shade of blue. He even momentarily sported two tufts of green flaming eyebrows and matching burning hair before his form reverted back into the bright, reddish-orange hue it had been once before…

Markl, however, was used to seeing this, and although he quirked a brow from where he sat on a three-legged stool in front of the hearth, his focus quickly flickered back down at the directions of a spell on parchment paper that Howl had instructed him to study yesterday. "I've tried this one all morning, and still no results, Calcifer," the child whispered with furrowed brows. Some spells were difficult to read—and mastering how to read them was just as much apart of his apprenticeship as performing them.

Between nibbles, Calcifer casually asked, "What did Howl say yesterday?"

Lowering the paper slightly, Markl gazed up at the ceiling, seeming to think the answer resided there. "Sometimes doing a spell correctly as written is the wrong way to do it," he vaguely recited. He sounded unsure of himself.

Well, that hadn't been the particular choice of words the eldest wizard had used. Magic could be quite tricky; they all knew that. "Eh," Calcifer said, shrugging. "Close enough, kid."

"You've been changing colors a lot since Master Howl left," Markl noted. He placed the paper on the floor in his lap, and he rested his arms on the stone platform before him and positioned his head on both limbs. With a huff, he said, "I do hope he's not sulking in the alleyways—you know how he can be."

Calcifer didn't need to be reminded that Howl was the king of drama—and unfortunately, he and the boy were his loyal, curse-ridden subjects. After feeling another twinge of guilt from the rouge wizard, Calcifer lapped up the last remnant of the log he'd been munching, watch as his tongue turned blue while Makrl hoped off his stool. The boy made a dash over to where the stacked wood resided—beside Sophie's new sleeping arrangements—grabbed a few logs, and returned to his seat as he dropped them into the grate. As he returned to his previous position of leaning against the stone, Markl noticed that Sophie hadn't startled when he fumbled a log during his rush, either.

Dark eyes observed with twinkles of intrigue as Calcifer's reddish-orange lips turned purple and the fire demon began nibbling at the tip of the log he now cradled. In some ways, Calcifer could be quite adorable—when he wasn't whining about his predicament—and he was almost like a cat whenever he ate. And if Markl listened closely enough, he could hear distinct 'nom-nom-nom' sounds as the demon chewed… Absolutely cute… However, when Calcifer began changing colors once more—that fierce shade of green, purple, and blue—Markl knew two things. One: Calcifer had magic worth fearing. Two: Howl was up to no good again—and hating every minute of it.

"He's getting worse by the days," Markl stated, turning so that his right cheek rested on his arms instead of his chin. "Isn't he…?" He knew that if Calcifer were any shade of the spectrum except red or orange, Howl was either around a girl—and probably eating her heart—or thinking of eating a heart. The demon knew everything about Howl.

"So are we all," Calcifer reminded. "You've been changing a lot more since that lady arrived. It's usually less frequent than this, kid."

Markl gave an attentive nod. "I think my curse has quieted now that she's asleep, though—no Michael in sight…" The name caused him to sigh and his heart felt a little heavier. "Calcifer?" Pausing from his meal, the demon peered over at him, using his inquisitive stare to probe for what was wrong with the child.

"I can't remember which one I'm supposed to be," Markl admitted. "I can't remember if I was born as Markl or Michael… not anymore…"

"Neither can I," was the quiet retort.

Evening had rolled around by the time Howl returned to the castle, and neither Calcifer or Markl were surprised to find him covered in dark blue feathers sporting even more blood on his beak, claws, and feathers than before. The scene did startle Markl briefly when he saw the crimson stained white cloth Howl held in his left talons as he entered and trudged over to the shelf of hearts above the workbench. The cloth was wrapped around something nearly oval in shape and large… something that had been previously beating… something that had obviously been stolen.

"M-master Howl," Markl called quietly. He gulped when he saw the creature in search of a jar, and he cautiously scooted off the stool to venture to the broom closet, where several were stored. Upon retrieving one, he slowly walked up the Howl and offered it as he twisted the lid off—raising it high. Markl nearly cowered away as Howl placed the soiled cloth on the workbench and reached for the glass item, but when the child saw the gentle manner in which Howl's claws gripped the sides—while also being mindful not to scratch the tiny human palms that offered—he stood firmly in place, dropping his hands when Howl had a decent grasp of the jar. As Howl began to morph back into his human form, both Markl and Calcifer turned their gazes elsewhere, none too keen on witnessing him add another heart to his collection.

Later, after hearing the lid sealed tight, and the sound of the jar being placed on the shelf, they both forced their eyes in his direction to see that Howl was human once again. He was trudging towards Sophie's sleeping quarters with his head hung low and his bangs shielding his ashamed face from view…

"Geez, you look awful, Howl," Calcifer stated in a curious alarm. He could feel a sudden hunger emitting from Howl's heart as he watched the wizard pace. "Don't eat her…" She may be my ticket out of here…

A ghost of smile flashed on Howl's lips as he saw that Sophie was the elderly woman he dropped from the sky just yesterday. "I couldn't even if I tried," came the exhausted reply.

"And boy do you want to," Calcifer noted. "You're making me hungry again, and I just ate!"

Tilting his head, Howl reminded himself that he wished no harm to come of Sophie, and the way her skin became polished once more caused him to reach down and stroke the back of the fingers of his right hand against her cheek… until he noticed that he'd stained her skin red. Retreating as if he'd been burned, he touched his hand against his stomach, stepping back before turning altogether. "Calcifer, run my bath."

Markl waited until Howl had completely ventured upstairs before he took in a deep breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. He was still in the same spot in which he'd given Howl the jar and his legs refused to walk any further on the newly stained, crimson floor. "He usually remembers to clean himself up before he leaves…" Turning to Calcifer, he said, "But when he dropped Sophie off, he had dried blood stains on his face."

Calcifer had lost his appetite as soon as Howl had entered the bathroom upstairs, explaining, "I don't think he noticed how he looked today..." He knew by the way Howl's heart was thumping that the wizard had finally taken a look at his disheveled self in the mirror. He relished in the feeling of knowing that Howl thought he looked disgusting. "For once..."

"Of course," Calcifer whispered. "It's Sophie fault… he can't have her, and he knows that, but that's all he's thinking about… You know how he gets when he just has to make a girl fall in love with him and eat her heart out—I bet he won't even eat hers; he'll put it on display as a trophy like some of those other girls over there." It was part of his curse: becoming obsessed with the chase. Everyone liked a good chase, after all. Howl's was just more obsessive than others… and also life-threatening.

Markl hummed in agreement, sighing when he realized that he suddenly felt a little taller than before. It was best to wear looser clothing than the garments he was currently wearing. "Well," said Michael, gesturing towards Sophie with his eyes, who was shifting herself awake. "She's definitely awake."

"And hungry," Sophie said in the groggiest of voices. She winced when she felt a sharp pain in her chest, and her right hand reached up to clutch the fabric in the area. "I feel so strange… so weak." Her heart ached.

"That's what happens when your body keeps switching between young and old," Calcifer warned. "All magic has consequences. You did this to yourself."

Sophie closed her eyes, feeling the strange urge to lie back down, despite her youthful demeanor. Even breathing hurt, but she forced in some light waves of air as best as she could. "Are you…?" She took in a deep breath, waiting for the pain to subside. Once it had, she asked, "Are you saying that my heart weakens whenever this happens?"

"I don't know," Calcifer replied blankly. "But it's not just your appearance that changes; your insides sometimes do that too with curses that make you change. I've seen it happen once or twice, and I wouldn't be surprised if those perfect teeth fall out soon, lady."

Sophie's eyes darted towards Markl—Michael—whichever name he preferred at the moment, and came to the realization that his voice wasn't the one she'd been conversing with. "…W-who was I speaking with, Markl?"

"It's Michael," the boy corrected. He was giving her a somewhat irritable look while he huffed. "Oh, I do wish you'd stop doing whatever it is you're doing. I change more when you're awake." To prove a point, he shrunk a few feet, and his chubby cheeks were sporting a wrinkled nose and his lips giving her the most unwavering of pouts. He looked cute enough to hug in Sophie's eyes. "Are you a witch, Sophie?" His eyes were rounded with anxiety.

"You really think I'd let a witch in here?" Calcifer asked, rolling his eyes. It wouldn't suit him to have a witch roaming about, although he probably wouldn't tell Howl out of spite if he met one that had the power to help them.

"I-I'm no witch!" Sophie exclaimed, standing. Her eyes flickered up, hearing what sounded like running water. "Where's Howl? What's going on?"

"What isn't?!" Calcifer whined, flailing his little hands about. He ignored the frightened way Sophie shrieked and nearly fell back on her bed as she finally noticed the fire demon. "'Calcifer, run my bath' he says! 'Sophie's here to help' he says!" The demon made a 'bleh' sound and he pointed at Michael—er, Markl... "Mark my words, everything's only going to get worse now that Howl's got his meal living with us." Unless Sophie could actually break our curses…

"You… you talk," Sophie whispered in disbelief with wide eyes. Perhaps I'm still dreaming…

Calcifer sulked, resting his hands on the wood he occupied in the grate. "Yeah, and according to Howl, I also eat enough for two—but my appetite depends on his mostly." He wanted to mention that the wizard often told him he complained far too often, but kept it to himself in favor of… well, not proving the man's point.

Sophie missed the random hint Calcifer had just given her in favor of examining the way he would sometimes change colors. "I… I suppose you're cursed, too?" It seemed obvious enough, although Sophie didn't know any other talking fires that she could ask for comparison…

Calcifer pressed his lips together while reaching for the last log Markl had left him earlier. "You sleep a lot… I bet your heart hurts from all that changing, and sometimes your old lady aches and pains mix in with your youth. That's why you want to sleep. Who did that to you?"

"I…" Sophie's lips jammed shut and her hands darted towards them, failing to pry them open. After removing the confession from her tongue, her mouth shot open and she gasped for air. "W-what…?" She was breathing heavily. Taking a curious step closer to him, Sophie nodded, curling her hands timidly as she brought them towards her chest. "What you said before… Do you know more about my curse?" She was only a few feet away from him now. "Could you help me—and Howl, too?"

Calcifer rolled his eyes, giving her a pointed stare. "Look lady, I can't help you until you help me, and in order to help me, you have to break my curse."

More people asking me to help them first, she thought in vexation. "And how do I go about doing that?"

Calcifer took note of the feisty tone she was now using, and he was none too shy about giving her the same persnickety attitude right back, voicing, "For starters, you can help Howl, since I can't."

Sophie's left brow rose. "How?"

He sighed. "I can't tell you."

"Why not?"

"That's cheating."

Sophie merely blinked, folding her arms. "…This isn't a game, you know?" Although she appreciated a good riddle every once in a blue moon… Her eyes watched his carefully. "Might I ask your name?"

Tiny arms spread wide and Calcifer lifted his body upward, widening his eyes. "I am Calcifer, the great and powerful fire demon!" He waggled his tongue at her when she giggled at his introduction.

"You're not all that frightening for a demon," she mentioned once her laugh subsided.

Markl seemed to disagree by the way he went over to stacked wood and tossed a few fresh logs into the grate. He then paced over to Sophie and peered up at her, curiousness glimmering in his eyes. "How are you going to help us break our curses if you don't even know what they are?"

"Agreed," Calcifer chimed in.

Sophie resisted the urge to frown by taking in a calming breath. "I…" She hugged herself, slowly shaking her head. "I don't know…" As she turned from the fireplace and lowered her head, she gasped at the blood she saw covering the floor. "Goodness!"

"Howl's back," Calcifer explained. He'd spoken this as if the blood was nothing new.

Sophie kept her focus on the floor, feeling her face twist between fear and discomfort. "I could clean this," she volunteered. Her eyes flickered towards Markl's. "Do you have a mop, and a pail?"

Markl was rushing back towards the closet before Sophie could ask anything else of him. After retrieving the items, he hurried over to her—while taking heed to not step onto any of Howl's bloody footprints. "Here, Sophie." He was just happy that he didn't have to clean the stains himself, for once… Cleaning everything else in the castle, though, that was not on his 'to-do' list, nor Howl's for that matter.

Sophie balanced the pail in her left hand and the mop in her right, giving a bow of her head. "I suppose I'll need some hot wa—" Her growling stomach had other ideas. "Or maybe something to eat first. I'm awfully hungry."

Markl made a humming sound as he turned to the items on the table. "We've got some cheese and some bread." He began grabbing them while Sophie placed her mop and pail near the fireplace, and she lifted her dress so that she could see where she was stepping as she approached the table and avoided the grim reminders on the floor.

"Are those eggs?" She was reaching for a nearby pan before Markl could answer. "And you have some—!"

"I'm not cooking any of that bacon, Sophie!"

What a whiny little thing, Sophie thought. She noticed that her cough sounded gruff, and when she peered down at her hands, she saw several liver spots, moles, dryness, and worst of all… wrinkles. Her nose had grown so long she could see the tip perfectly well as she gazed down at it, along with a wart. "Oh no," she murmured, sounding none too pleased about her current state.

"Howl's thinking about eating your heart," Calcifer stated. As proof, Calcifer glowed a pale blue. "Even while pampering in his comfort room…" Even after eating before he came here… It was quite sad indeed. "Does your heart hurt?"

"It does," Sophie said, plopping down in the nearest chair. "And I'm so drained."

"Are you going to be okay, Sophie?" Markl asked in a worried tone, touching her shoulder.

Sophie reached up—seeing that her hand was involuntarily shaking as she did this—and she patted Markl's anxious grip. "I'll be fine Michael—Markl," she corrected before the boy could. "I just need a minute, or two."

"Or three," Calcifer added for good measure.

When Sophie winced and gripped the fabric nearest her chest, Markl suggested, "Or four…"

All too soon for either male's liking, Sophie stood. "Well," she said in a strained tone. She paused briefly when her neck snapped, groaning as she rubbed the spot. "Time to move this tired old body and get some food in my system." She hadn't eaten since yesterday—some hours before arriving at the shop in which Lettie worked so it was safe to assume that the girl was starving. As if agreeing with the notion, her stomach rumbled, to which she offhandedly patted it like a mother would an awaiting child.

"What?!" The disbelief radiated off both the demon and the lad.

"Sophie!" Markl called, ignoring the way he suddenly grew a few feet into Michael. "Don't strain yourself!"

"He's right," Calcifer said. "You don't wanna hurt yourself." And Howl would be upset if his meal were damaged before he could do it himself…

Sophie ignored them in favor of grabbing the skillet. "Oh, hush up the both of you!" came the breathy hiss. "I may look ancient, but I'm quite capable of utilizing the stove, thank you very much." Grandma Sophie was quite saucy when provoked.

Calcifer made a 'tsk' noise as he crossed his arms, huffing as he watched Sophie reach for an egg. As she cracked it, he said, "Listen, lady. I'm not making any breakfast for you." He was frowning as she ignored him in favor of pouring the yoke into the pan. "I mean it."

"What good is a fire if you can't even make something this simple?" Sophie challenged, none too shy about speaking with him now. She'd forgotten about the blood on the floor in favor of grabbing the frying pan and slowly making her way over to the fireplace. "Come now, Calcifer. It won't take long."

Offended, the fire demon pressed his lips in a tight line to avoid saying something foul. However, as Sophie approached, he said, "Look, lady. I told you I'm not making any—hey!" He was scooting around, desperately trying to avoid the frying pan about to be positioned on top of him. "Hey, lady!" His eyes were wide in his sudden panic. "Lady!" His tiny hands pushed up at the steel item as best as he could in favor of not being flattened, but the attempt was in vain. The fire demon was no match for Grandma Sophie.

She had won within that same second, and easily crushed the weight of the frying pan on top of him, all while gesturing with her free hand for Markl. "Pass me the bacon," she commanded.

Markl, who'd observed the scene with a bit of admiration for the elderly woman, found his mouth agape. "Calcifer's doing what she says…"

"Markl?" Sophie called.

Tiny feet began to move, causing Calcifer's eyes to peep out from under the cooking utensil. "Don't help her!" But Markl was already handing Sophie the strips.

"Thank you, Markl," Sophie said. When she noticed the stool, her feet practically begged her for some rest, and she seated herself at a good angle in front of Calcifer to continue her cooking.

The fire demon grumbled something to her as he sulked, but Sophie could only catch the last sentence: May all your bacon burn. It made her smile, nonetheless. "It won't take long," she assured.

"You're mean," Calcifer groused.

Markl's eyes darted towards the staircase as soon as he sprouted in growth. "Master Howl," Michael said in greeting.

Glass eyes were far too focused on Sophie as he sauntered downstairs and approached the fireplace with a gleam of mirth in his small smile. As he stood to Sophie's left and tilted his head, he said, "Calcifer, you're making breakfast?" It projected like a question, although it was a statement filled with wonder and barely there hilarity.

"She bullied me!"

He does whine an awful lot, Sophie thought, rolling her eyes.

The tantalizing chuckle from Howl caused her eyes to dart towards his, and her old heart sped up a few beats once she saw his head turning to seek out her own gaze—to which she quickly peered down at their sizzling breakfast. But Howl was difficult to ignore. For starters, his grandeur of a scent emitted euphoric waves every time she got a whiff of it. He smelled of dulcet hyacinths, too. It wasn't overbearing, and it certainly wasn't soft—just the right blend to please anyone's nostrils who stood within a two foot radius. Sophie even had to fight the urge to draw herself nearer to him due to that splendor of a smell. It was almost enchanting in a way—if not peculiar that Howl would choose something that wasn't loud and showy…

Well, the old woman grumbled. His gaudy outfits certainly make up for it. He was sporting a baby blue cloak with a clean, white robe to go with his dark slacks and brown shoes.

"Not many people can do that, you know?" the wizard asked, taking the handle from Sophie in a fluid movement. "I had a hunch that you might be a witch—or maybe an enchantress since your face is always in my thoughts as of late." There was a tease in his voice, one that made Sophie's heart flutter again—although when her body morphed into her youthful self, she was certain that she felt an agonizing sting—enough to make Howl drop the frying pan handle and try to catch her before she could topple over.

"Sophie!" Howl called, grabbing her by the shoulders.

Calcifer sighed as he turned his casual reddish-orange hue, pushing the pan towards the ashes so that the breakfast wouldn't be completely lost, although he did manage to furtively snatch up one of the three strips of bacon. "You've gotta stop thinking about eating her. Every time you do, her insides start to change, and she can't handle it—no one in her position could."

Howl was watching Sophie's face twist as she closed her eyes and he took in how tense she felt in his grip… "I can't guarantee that."

"But you're trying," Calcifer mentioned. "I can feel what you feel, remember? You don't want to hurt Sophie."

"Do you think she could die if she keeps changing as a defense mechanism?" Michael asked, sounding weary as Sophie fluttered her eyes open and touched her chest.

"I think it's likely," Calcifer answered. "If it hurts that much…"

Sophie took in a deep breath, wincing as she performed the action. "It feels as if I'm dying every time it happens now… almost as if I've condemned myself."

Howl disagreed with a firm shake of his head, his hands giving her arms the gentlest of squeezes. "Sophie." His eyebrows were furrowing, but he paid no mind to the crinkles forming on his forehead in favor of the grave look he challenged against her aggrieved one. "You may have cursed yourself, but only in defense against me…" His pitch dropped as he murmured out, "I am a murderer, after all…"

Sophie's lips parted at the confession, disappointed that Howl would think so lowly of himself. "Howl, you can't help it—"

"For all of this to be happening to you," he whispered. "It's my doing, not yours." My fault...

"Howl—"

"I condemned you the moment I laid eyes on you, Sophie—and worst of all, I felt a little proud of seeing you as a target…" The admission caused the room to silence, and Howl refused to give into the hunger he was feeling for Sophie's heart—even if he was in range of taking it—of feasting on it. He knew she'd change if he had, and he didn't want that.

"…How long has she been changing?" Calcifer asked, breaking the silence.

"Since I met her yesterday," Howl murmured. He brushed a stray strand of her hair back in place. "Can you stand on your own?"

Sophie almost nodded, but part of her wanted to say "no" in a bid to be under the comforting touch of Howl's hands—which were rubbing soothing circles with their thumbs. Howl mistook the action for hesitancy, and stubbornness. "If you can't, I wouldn't put it against you, Sophie. No need to put on bravado for me." He sounded genuinely concerned now. "I can hold you for as long as you need, or maybe you'd like to rest on your bed?"

Howl, Sophie thought meaningfully. She slowly nodded, stepping away from him. "I'll be fine, so long as you control your hunger."

Missing the action, Howl's fingers twitched before he dropped them at his sides and briskly turned, pulling his cloak closer to him so that the sleeve area he wasn't wearing around his arms wouldn't fall off his shoulders. "My feet itch," he announced. "I'm going for a walk on the hills."

Sophie reached for him, only to pause mid-action. "Howl," she said, curling the fingers slightly on her extended palm. "You're supposed to help me solve—"

"I'll just be an hour," he assured her. "No more, no less." As he made it to the door, he whispered, "You should eat."

Sophie gave no further dispute as he left; although Calcifer detected the hint of relief in her eyes at Howl's declaration of returning. Little did Sophie know that Howl was unconsciously willing himself to leave, just to see Sophie's eyes light up upon seeing him return. It confused the fire demon because he was sure the curse wasn't in effect. If it had been, he'd be changing colors. If it had been, he could feel it.

Howl, the fire demon thought. I can tell these random feelings for Sophie might be real… even if you can't just yet. He knew the wizard had an unintentional fascination with Sophie Hatter, regardless of the curse; it was Howl who was unaware. I hope you know it might hurt even more if you two fall in love...

Howl was indeed walking the hills, and with quickened paces at that. He seemed to be searching for something in his mind that clearly wasn't there: logic. The infatuation he was feeling with Sophie Hatter—a girl he'd met yesterday, mind you—was eating at his own heart. "I'll just keep my distance," he assured himself, giving a curt nod. "And she can break our curses and we can both be rid of each other…" It was simple enough.

Sighing he paused, lowering his head to rub his temples as he brooded. The wind made his hair blow about, but he didn't mind. He did notice that his bangs had grown, though, and he knew that he was in need of a suitable trim. With that in mind, he did an about face, intent on going to the place he loved the most in the castle, the bathroom. However, once he returned, he knew that having Sophie around would be a problem, in more ways than one.

My God, this is dreadful!

It was a horrific sight to behold, really—mayhem even.

Sophie Hatter was cleaning.

Oh dear... Howl shook his head as the door closed, and no one noticed his entry amidst the chaos that was Sophie. Inclining his head, the wizard thought, I should've seen this situation arising… how unpleasant. His mood had become inure, and he sensed a squabble in the near future, although he didn't like quarreling with people.

He saw that Sophie was sweeping up a storm in a mask made of white cloth, little Markl was standing on the workbench—looking none too pleased, and albeit afraid, as he eyed Sophie's wide, unrelenting movements of the broom—and poor Calcifer was dangling from a pail by a piece of wood that was breaking in the middle. He'd probably been placed there because Sophie had been using her broom to clear off the ashes from the fireplace. Dust had taken over the atmosphere and even Howl couldn't deny that he felt sorry for Calcifer as he pleaded, "Sophie, help me! I'm going out!"

It was like watching a kitten hanging from a windowsill.

Sophie was ignoring him, though. She was far too busy with cleaning. "Oh hush up," she said. "It won't take long."

"Sophie!" Calcifer whined. His little bottom was moving in a desperate swinging motion so that he could get some leverage and try to climb atop the thin wood, only for it to snap. He plummeted into the bucket just as Howl calmly paced over to him. He saw that the little demon had turned into a blue ball around his heart, and he gently scooped him up, blowing lightly before placing Calcifer back into the fireplace, and giving him fresh wood.

"I'd appreciate it," Howl said to Sophie, who had finally noticed him. "If you didn't—"

"Try and kill me!" Calcifer whined out. "If I die Howl dies, too!"

Sophie missed the hint, pointing at the floor. "But it's a sty in here," she retorted.

"Master Howl!" Markl shouted, to which Howl went over to him and lifted him off the stool when the boy reached for him. As he placed the child on the floor, he even took the time to brush some dust off his hair while Markl's dark eyes gave the indication of a cry for help. His gentle touches were filled with a deep affection while he inspected Markl's upset demeanor. "She says she can't help us until the place is clean!" He looked genuinely unsettled by those words.

Offended, Howl snapped his head at Sophie. "...You're quite the terror, aren't you?" He had a bit of a bite in his tone.

It was Sophie's turn to appear offended, and she cut her eyes at him. "This castle is a mess." For emphasis, she pointed her broom at a spider web, were a large black widow had made a home. "Just look at all the spiders!" Indeed they were abundant.

Howl's eyes darted around the room, noticing that one of the webs in the corner was gone, and the spider along with it. That was all it took for him to loose his temper. Sophie Hatter had the audacity to bother his precious spiders. "Confound it, woman!" He nearly stomped his foot, but fought against it in favor of not alarming Markl. "Leave the spiders alone! They've done nothing to you!" I should've suspected she'd come after something of mine, since Markl and Calcifer have already felt her wrath.

You should've never let her in here! Calcifer thought grudgingly, crossing his arms.

"They don't need to be here, and this place is filthy, Howl!"

"This is my castle!" he reminded in a high pitch, none too concerned with the disagreeable look she was giving him. He gave it right back, like a mirror. "I've a right to a pigsty if I please, don't you think?!" His nostrils were flared and he was getting a headache. Sophie was the first woman to make him lose his temper to such a degree.

Sophie's brows rose, challenging his reflective stare. "I can't live like this!" Calcifer thought it odd that the two were arguing like a commonplace, rather unhappy, married couple. Still, he enjoyed the show, both for Sophie managing to get Howl upset, and for Howl making her stop antagonizing him via cleaning.

Howl groaned, spreading his arms as he lowered his voice and said, "You're lucky to be alive at all, all things considering…"

Sophie was seething, but she nodded, nonetheless. "But it's unbearable like this," she said, bringing her voice down. "And you…"

"And I what?" he questioned. When she remained quiet, he urged, "Tell me, Sophie." His tone was softer now. I do wish I hadn't done all that yelling. It's certainly not good for my voice. I don't want it to resemble a strained old gent this soon.

"You had blood prints on the floor earlier…"

He flinched at the same time Calcifer had, which didn't go unnoticed by Sophie. "I see…"

Hurrying up the stairs, Howl shook his head, only to stomp back down midway and point. "You may clean, but don't bother the spiders." His chin was up, as if he were giving a royal order, although Sophie was under the impression that he was being a royal pain in the arse.

"Why not?"

"Because they get rid of flies, naturally," Howl responded with a poised shrug of his right shoulder.

"What about upstairs?" Sophie queried. "May I clean up there?" She opted not to give him a false curtsy, as it might've encouraged his dramatic behavior. Your majesty? She was sure that if this floor had this much filth, surely every other room in the castle was just as untidy.

Howl's right brow arched, observing the way Sophie's did the same with a twinge of amusement. All too quickly, it vanished as he politely said, "…Don't touch my bedroom—and should you find yourself cleaning my comfort room, don't touch any of my potions." He had his hair to think about. Heaven forbid Sophie switch anything. The bathroom contained all of his prepping materials—necessities that made him look less like the mud-color haired man he was born as and more of the man he wished to be.

"Fine," Sophie said simply.

Howl crossed his arms. "Fine…"

"You're upset," she noted.

Was it my frown, or my tone, that gave me away, Sophie? He gave her a dismissive wave of his left hand before returning to his original stance. "I don't like quarreling with people—especially not in my own home."

"Neither do I."

Howl offered her a rueful smile. "I beg to differ." He started to turn, but stopped himself, lifting his index finger as he gazed at her. "Do you really want to wear that dress while you're here? I'd be happy to make you something else. That's rather ghastly."

"Oh, do shut up," Sophie said, feeling her temper rise. Howl had been on about her clothing since she'd met him.

He had gotten under her skin, enjoying the lovely shade of red her face flamed. "I'm only offering. I am a wizard, after all. I can make you something that isn't even on the market yet." He sounded delighted by the very mention.

"So I noticed," she mused, eyeing his gaudy cloak.

For a moment, they simply stared at each other, seeming to be debating on whether or not they should find something else to argue about. During their disagreement, Howl had forgotten that Sophie's heart was his soon to be meal, and Sophie had all but pushed the thought of Howl being a cursed murderer to the back of her mind.

Although they had a quarrel, it seemed… normal? Comfortable?

Safe.

It was Howl who noticed the feelings—and the situation—first. It made his eyes round briefly before they relaxed and he paced the rest of the way upstairs.

"I've never seen him argue so much," Markl said. "But you did bother his spiders."

Sophie hummed in agreement, feeling emotionally drained from all the trouble she'd caused—if not a little satisfied that she'd managed to make Howl looked baffled as he had before he retreated. Not many people can do that, she thought in triumph, remembering what he'd said before about how she'd bullied Calcifer.

The little fire demon soon added in his two cents. "And you haven't changed, which means he wasn't thinking about eating you, Sophie." He sounded genuinely surprised, and was that a hint of pride lacing his tone that Sophie managed to detect?

Releasing a calm breath of air, Sophie bowed her head and placed the broom against the wall. "I suppose I won't bother anyone by cleaning upstairs today." She couldn't help but roll her eyes at the way a newly transformed Michael and Calcifer breathed in relief. At least she'd had breakfast—well, a late lunch—and knowing all her meals afterward were going to be on clean dishes from now on put her at ease.

It wasn't until a few hours later that Howl returned downstairs to find Sophie and Michael seated at the workbench, taking notes about everyone's curses. Sophie was using Howl's everlasting quill pen to scribble brief lines, while Michael chatted about what he knew of Howl's curse.

"Once he meets a pretty girl," the boy said. "He has to pursue her."

Sophie jotted the words down—verbatim. "And he can't let up?"

"Not ever," Michael said, shaking his head. "They all have to be young and beautiful though, like you, Sophie—or else the curse won't urge him to chase the woman."

Howl kept quiet at the top of the stairs, watching in amusement as Sophie flushed a brilliant red. You truly aren't aware of how lovely you are, he mused. Even if you dress awful. He couldn't help but grimace at her attire, knowing full well that if he had his say, he'd fix that maddening dress.

"But," Sophie whispered, placing the pen on the table. She shyly began twirling the braid that hung over her shoulder. "I'm not very pretty…" She claimed his often—too much for Howl's liking. It was appalling, unattractive—while also still being somewhat attractive—when a woman didn't know how appealing she was.

"You're beautiful," three voices assured her.

All three occupants on the first floor turned upon hearing Howl's voice among them. "Your curse, Sophie," Howl started as he slowly stepped down each step. "Make sure you take consideration of it against mine."

"That's right!" Michael encouraged. His breath hitched as he dwarfed back into Markl, huffing in annoyance that he was now shorter than he preferred. "Your curse counters Howl's curse," he continued, although he was pouting slightly. Howl could tell that the child had taken a liking to Sophie already and he found it endearing to see Markl's chair so close to hers from where they sat.

It had taken him a few weeks into his apprenticeship before the child dared to scoot so close to Howl. The memory caused the wizard to crack a fond, reminiscing smile as he watched them and quietly descended the stairs.

"And when Howl's curse makes him think of eating your heart," Markl said. "Your curse can activate, even in your sleep."

Before Sophie could reach for the pen, Howl came behind her seated form and leaned over her so that his arms were on either side of hers, and his chest brushing against the back of her head. Keeping his left palm pressed against the table, he took the pen in his right, and he scribbled down some sentences about Michael and Markl.

"He changes more when I'm around?" Sophie asked, peering up at the same time Howl glanced down. His hair was tickling her face, draping around it like a curtain, even if he had trimmed it into a straight line.

"Yes," was the reply from the wizard.

"I see," she replied, sounding guilt-ridden. Even feeling remorseful, she couldn't deny that Howl was making her think things she was sure she'd never felt before—quite like how she pictured most women feeling whenever they met him. It was as if his soft eyes—although glass-like—could urge her to come forward… could bend her will. She momentarily fought against leaning back to bury herself into his chest, and she blinked away the fantasy of him embracing her in his arms. Blushing, she lowered her head and whispered, "Oh dear…"

Thinking that she was feeling guilty for his sake, Markl took her hand, squeezing it.

"It's okay, Sophie," he assured. "It doesn't hurt my heart like it does yours to change."

"How long have you been changing?" she asked him. She felt Howl retreat from her, and she instantly missed the contact—even if Howl's intentions had been innocent.

"I can't remember," Markl whispered. "But Master Howl does…"

"You were Michael first," the wizard clarified, pacing over to fireplace. He noticed the stacked wood—which was within Calcifer's reach and he quirked an amused brow.

"Sophie did this for me!" the fire demon exclaimed, easily reaching to grab one. "Isn't it great?!" He began nibbling on the edge of the log while keeping his gaze focused on the wizard.

They shared a brief moment of understanding, and Howl knew for certain that Calcifer had felt all the flutters Howl had when he was standing against Sophie's seated form earlier. There was an all too telling look in Calcifer's eyes, a false innocence of a warning in his large irises that simply said: I hope you know what you're getting into. The way Howl tore his gaze away in a bored fashion proved that the demon was right.

Howl had a crush on Sophie.

"Someone cursed you," Howl said to Markl. "It was while I was away and you ventured into town to see… someone." He missed the relieved look Markl had given him to keep his special someone a secret to Sophie. "Your curse prevents you from saying who it was that cursed you, but I presume it was the Witch of the Waste." Crossing his arms, he murmured, "It seems everything ties into that dreadful woman."

"Why does she hate you so much?" Sophie suddenly asked. "Did you eat the heart of anyone she knew?"

Markl blurted out, "I wish," at the same time that Calcifer scoffed and said, "If only..."

Howl took a seat in the nearest chair beside the fireplace and he sat back, lifting his left leg so that he could prop it on his right. As he rubbed the back of his neck, he closed his eyes. "I used to think she was quite beautiful—the second most beautiful woman I'd ever had the privilege of courting." He grimaced as he opened his eyes and locked them with Sophie's. "And then I realized she wasn't, so I fled. She was as horrendous as her heart, Sophie—an unseemly sight to behold."

Sophie couldn't help the slightly bemused look she gave him, but she relaxed her expression once she asked, "Who is she?"

"The witch?" he inquired.

"No, the most beautiful woman in the world?"

Howl smiled fondly at the thought, tearing his gaze away from Sophie's curious eyes. "Believe it or not, I don't know her face myself, or even remember her voice, to be honest… It's always blank in my dreams, but I know in this dream, her hair is short and—"

"Don't forget that she knows our names!" Calcifer piped up, having had the same dream as often as Howl. "Even though we've only heard her say it once."

Howl agreed with a bow of his head. "I fear she may actually be a dream now… but the way she reaches for me reminds me that she must have some purpose than just being a dream." He touched his chin as he pondered this. "Sometimes, I think that she's using our first meeting in the dream as a bid to not make it the last, to save me somehow—no, to save the three of us… and I adore her for it."

Sophie found herself smiling, although she did feel a tad jealous. The story itself had her feeling sentimental, though. "That's so romantic, Howl." I never heard of such a thing...

"But she's only a dream," Howl insisted. And she can't help us break our curses…

"No," Sophie whispered. Finding some courage, she stood, spreading her arms. "Howl, they must mean something—and perhaps this woman is very much alive and still searching for you!" She was getting excited about the idea, and Howl thought it sweet of her to wish him a happy ending, even if he was a murderer…

The dreamy gaze he found himself giving her surprised even him, and he whispered, "Sophie?"

Realizing how loud she was being, she blushed and touched her lips with the tips of her fingers. "I'm sorry, Howl. I—"

"Even though you're quite the terror, I appreciate your company." In spite of everything that's happened to you, you're still keeping positive about the situation—if not commandeering it.

Markl, who'd just turned back into Michael, was smiling as he watched the intimate exchange, and Calcifer couldn't help but pause mid-bite after witnessing the chemistry radiating from them. He could feel Howl's heart fluttering again.

"When none of us think about our curses, no one changes," the fire demon noted.

"You're right!" Michael quickly jotted that down. However, Howl and Sophie's remained focused on each others.

Maybe it's best that the woman in my dreams stays a dream… He knew he was playing with fire when it came to Sophie Hatter, but part of him—a small part that he rarely knew existed most days—was willing to take that risk…

Finally, Sophie murmured, "And I appreciate yours…" She was sure he wouldn't be saying that once she scoured his comfort room tomorrow. No, that room was in for the cleaning of its life.

…

Replies to Guest Reviews:

Beda: I think I was on a roll: two updates in one month! That's a rarity for me lol Idk, sometimes it feels like the longer the chapter the bigger chance I have of rambling and making something too verbose but I only apply that in my case. I guess 7,000 isn't too bad.

Jack Malvine: Side effects? I feel like for every action, there's a reaction and nothing comes without consequence so there may be more side effects. ;)

YoungMe: Thank you!

Otaku. review: I will remember your tip! Grandma Sophie is pretty sassy in the novels. :D I love them both equally, too—just for different reasons lol

James Birdsong: Yass! Thanks so much!

Guest: Thank you! Hopefully my little twists I'm trying to incorporate will work.