For you, I will || howl x reader

< 14 >

You P.O.V.:

I couldn't prevent my mind from going back to Sophie's mother and the witch. I was distracted all day. I got the kettle to heat up more water. Something tells me that I would be awake all night and I think tea can help calm the disturbing feelings that stir inside me.

What would cause this division between them? And how do they know each other?

The kettle whistled and I distractedly reached out to grab it, just to scream and throw my hand back, feeling the burn in the palm of my hand. Getting out of my thoughts. The area was bright red, but it didn't look very serious. I turned off the stove and ran my hand under the tap, letting the cold water relieve the pain.

It flowed through my fingertips, dripping continuously at a constant pace.

I can't stand it.

Turning off the faucet, I silently returned to the living room to find the Witch of Waste taking a nap with Heng wrapped in her lap, her old and wrinkled fingers buried in his cream-coloured hair, breathing coming in and out irregular wheezing.

Calcifer's diminished orange and golden flames threw a weak glow on their faces.

"Psst, hey."

I blinked and approached him, hopeful and wishing he was well. "Is everything okay, Cal?"

"I think Sophie may have forgotten our agreement," he mocked. "All she has done recently is get depressed and distracted. Not to mention tense and grumpy."

I laughed weakly, "You could say that again." I sat slowly on the floor. "It's partially my fault, actually."

"Oh, seriously," he said, almost in a bored tone, his flame getting smaller and smaller every second with more smoke forming. "This must be a real story."

"Yes..." I looked at the ceiling. A peaceful calm, almost meditative, took hold of me.

"Anyway, I need you to do it now."

That moment was broken.

"Do what?" I asked, arching my eyebrow.

"I need you to break the curse between Howl and me," he begged. "Come on, (Y/N)."

I inhaled abruptly. A lot was happening, but I could put that aside. However, something kept bothering me deep in my brain.

The pieces of the puzzle were not right.

"Cal..." I said slowly.

"What?" He replied quickly, decreasing to the smoke. I tried to ask if he knew anything about what happened, but I decided it was better to let him rest. Whatever the witch did to him, he would need Howl to heal. I just hope he comes back soon.

"Nothing," I sighed. "I'll be right back..."

I got up and straightened my cotton dress, then went to the open purple bag. I took it and let it rest in the palm of my hand, turning it to see if there was anything left inside that could give me a clue. I turned the small bag upside down and shook a little to just find dust.

Disappointment took hold of me, and I was about to throw it at the Witch when I noticed something crumpled hard in her right hand. My heart beat faster, and I reached out to carefully take her fingers off the object to find an old newspaper article. It had the same vanilla and lavender scent as the bag, and something told me that's what I was looking for.

Interested, I gently smoothed the crumpled parchment and realised that there were not only creases of the Witch's relentless grip, but also creases that seemed to have been folded and opened again until they almost fall apart in quadrants. It seemed so fragile, and looking more closely that I could see the photo of a couple hugging in black and white.