Howl & Sophie (Howl's Moving Castle)

17

"Ah - it's empty."

And with that, they entered.

_____________

Sophie gasped, and while it was involuntary, it was definitely not misplaced. The person who had entered was not familiar to her at all.

It was almost as if pure beams of light had been delicately entwined into the layers of his silver hair, absorbed straight into his soft, pale skin. Starting from his fingertips, and straight up to his snowy cheeks - was a faint, rosy colour that seemed to be painted on with a brush. Radiating from his figure, seemed to be light itself - a sort of warm, innocent glow outlining his features and body... similar to that of a painting.
Pushing their pale, wispy hair behind their ear, the figure slipped into the room without a sound.

What..? Sophie thought, gulping.
Panicking, she hurried into the shadows of an unlit corner, peering suspiciously from behind a bookcase. Brushing away a hanging cobweb from above, she positioned herself perfectly out of sight.

...Did they notice me?

His eyes were bright, containing an eager, enthusiastic sparkle that had long left Sophie's. Yet it managed to bring her nostalgia, of times where overflowing adrenaline was the norm.
Turning to look at him again, her eyes narrowed in suspicion. She had never seen his face in the entirety of her life. Staring at this ethereal being was like staring straight into the eyes of perfection. As the figure took another step forward to reach for a chair, she sighed in awe at their unbelievably gentle touch.

Watching with wide eyes as they went down the aisle, Sophie leant forward as they reached up for a spell book, stroking it's hard cover with his faultless, unblemished palms.

"Saviour wants this one," the person whispered to himself, his voice as sweet and quiet as the spring breeze. Laughing quietly to himself, he hopped softly back down from the shelf, lightly pacing back out of the library door.

For moments after he had left - Sophie remained in complete silence.

_____________

"Saviour?" She pondered, anxiously crawling out from her uncomfortable hiding spot. "Did I somehow happen to stumble into a cult?"

Realising that she had been thoughtlessly muttering to herself, (like most protagonists seemed to do), she quickly sandwiched her lips together. The identity of the person was one that she did not know, and one that she was hopefully going to discover. Hurrying out of the library, Sophie made sure to quieten her footsteps, ensuring that there were absolutely no people in the corridor she had just stepped out into.
And yet, her surroundings had an entirely different feel - from its scent, to its unusual choice of furniture.
The style appeared to be... a century older?

I'm going to find Howl. He'll know what's going on...
and perhaps he'd like to explain our guest?

"There you are!!" A sudden, youthful cry from the end of the corridor broke her train of thought. That voice, surely it was-?

"Howl!" Sophie exclaimed, relief surging through her voice as she swung around to face his affectionate gaze. But while Howl's body also faced her, his eyes were unfocused and glassy - captivated entirely by something else.

And his hair... was blonde?

"Where have you been?" he smiled, walking openly towards her with outstretched arms. With a pretentious flick of his wrists, he pushed his golden-stained hair aside, pacing confidently in her direction.
But just as she thought he'd stop - he continued his stride.

What in the world..?

"Hold up!" Sophie burst out, her hands reflexively reaching out against his chest, clearly to prevent their collision. She attempted to push against him, hands firmly in the air - expecting to make immediate contact with him.