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kinkfest2008-06-09 11:23 pm
toujourspret.livejournal.com) wrote in kinkfest2008-06-09 11:23 pm
Entry tags:
Clouds [Howl's Moving Castle, Howl/Sophie, G]
Title: Clouds
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
toujourspret
Rating: G
Warnings: none
Word count: 382
Summary: There was no use denying it—he was a slitherer-outer.
There was no use denying it—he was a slitherer-outer. Sophie’d always said so, and it would seem—as usual—that she was right. It was the only explanation as to why he was lying on his back in a field in Wales, instead of holding Sophie’s hand and helping her pick out the decorations for the baby’s room. He was a slitherer-outer, and he was a bloody coward.
He stared up at the clouds overhead, gently nudging and tweaking until this one was a rabbit and that one was a dragon. When Sophie had said, so carefully, that he might want to tell his sister he was married because she’d otherwise wonder where her nephew had come from, his entire body had gone numb but for a deep throbbing in the left-ish part of his chest. He’d been a consummate actor, of course—played elated so well that it only took Sophie ten minutes to ask if he needed to take a walk—and he’d somehow ended up here, where he’d read The Lord of the Rings some thirty times and daydreamed and played wizard as a child.
It wasn’t that he didn’t love the child, and it certainly wasn’t that he didn’t love Sophie. He wasn’t scared, either—except for that little part of him deep inside that was shaking. How did parents do it? How did they manage to put themselves aside and focus so wholly on one tiny person? He sighed deeply and continued playing with the clouds.
“No, you’ve got your eyes all wrong, Howell.” Sophie’s voice was calm and warm as she leaned against his side, pointing at the cloud. “See? Yours are all rounded, but sharp, like this,” she drew in the air, reshaping the clouds subtly.
“They were supposed to be yours. He’s already got my nose,” Howl pouted, but didn’t change it back. Sophie hummed quietly, and they watched the baby cloud drift apart into other shapes. “I’m sorry I left.”
“It’s okay. I should have thought of a better way to tell you,” she murmured sleepily under his chin.
“I’ve never been a father before,” he mused aloud.
“I’ve never been a mother. We’ll learn together,” she replied. “It’s going to be okay.”
He trusted her, because what Sophie said always came true.
Author:
toujourspretRating: G
Warnings: none
Word count: 382
Summary: There was no use denying it—he was a slitherer-outer.
There was no use denying it—he was a slitherer-outer. Sophie’d always said so, and it would seem—as usual—that she was right. It was the only explanation as to why he was lying on his back in a field in Wales, instead of holding Sophie’s hand and helping her pick out the decorations for the baby’s room. He was a slitherer-outer, and he was a bloody coward.
He stared up at the clouds overhead, gently nudging and tweaking until this one was a rabbit and that one was a dragon. When Sophie had said, so carefully, that he might want to tell his sister he was married because she’d otherwise wonder where her nephew had come from, his entire body had gone numb but for a deep throbbing in the left-ish part of his chest. He’d been a consummate actor, of course—played elated so well that it only took Sophie ten minutes to ask if he needed to take a walk—and he’d somehow ended up here, where he’d read The Lord of the Rings some thirty times and daydreamed and played wizard as a child.
It wasn’t that he didn’t love the child, and it certainly wasn’t that he didn’t love Sophie. He wasn’t scared, either—except for that little part of him deep inside that was shaking. How did parents do it? How did they manage to put themselves aside and focus so wholly on one tiny person? He sighed deeply and continued playing with the clouds.
“No, you’ve got your eyes all wrong, Howell.” Sophie’s voice was calm and warm as she leaned against his side, pointing at the cloud. “See? Yours are all rounded, but sharp, like this,” she drew in the air, reshaping the clouds subtly.
“They were supposed to be yours. He’s already got my nose,” Howl pouted, but didn’t change it back. Sophie hummed quietly, and they watched the baby cloud drift apart into other shapes. “I’m sorry I left.”
“It’s okay. I should have thought of a better way to tell you,” she murmured sleepily under his chin.
“I’ve never been a father before,” he mused aloud.
“I’ve never been a mother. We’ll learn together,” she replied. “It’s going to be okay.”
He trusted her, because what Sophie said always came true.