Howl

Chapter Nine

Howl's POV

    "No! No! You are doing it all wrong!" Before I can correct the movements of Artemis's long, thin, bare arms, a puff of black smoke bathes our faces. I choke for a minute, before Artemis squeeks.

    "Sorry! I didn't know you had to stir a certain way!"

    "For this, you have to stir it like you do an omelet," I explain.

    "I have never made an omelet before," Artemis looks down at her feet, which are clad in looped, worn leather boots that reach just below her knee caps.

    "We must correct this. One question, Artemis."

    "Yes?"

    I try not to wince as I ask, "How have you cooked so many things in your life, but some how not have ever made an omelet?" 

    "I guess it never occured to me that I would need to know how to make omelets in order to learn how to make hair deying potions from a moody wizard," Artemis snaps, and I smile as we make our way down the stairs, to Markl, who is trying to order Calcifer around, yet again.

     "That's my girl," I can't help but sigh, with a smile towards Artemis.

    "Howl!" Markl practically shreiks. "I thought you only ever said that around Sophie!"

    This clouds my mood, which I thought had been pleasant. "Well, Sophie is gone now, isn't she?" I swear that I see tears begin welling in the young boy's eyes. Markl dashes back up the stairs, off to sulk in his room.

     "That was a little harsh, don't you think?" Artemis shoots a glare like daggers in my direction. I dismiss her accusation with a shrug of my shoulders. "What is so special about how you stir the potions? They all end up stirred in the end-"

    "Why do you always wear that sleeveless . . . thing?"

    Artemis raises both of her dark eyebrows at me. "It's called a tank-top, Howl."

    "And what about the tight trousers?"

    "The pants? I find them more conveniant than skirts," Artemsi describes. "Skirts get in the way of tree climbing, fighting, you know, basically everthing."

    "So it has nothing to do with your clumsiness?" I press, as she trips over thin air, almost landing in Clacifer's fireplace.

    I recieve another dirty look, before Artemis asks, "So what is with all the questions? Aren't you going to explain why hair dying potions are so important and precise?"

    "I am plannign on dying my hair blonde, like it was before you came along."

    "Do that and I will shave your head!" Artemis threatens, half heartedly.

     "So you like it natural, huh?" I tease. "Which means you don't completely hate me . . . " I have made my way over to Artemis, and I lean above her, hardly having to look down to meet her eyes.

    "I never said that I hate you, you daft as-"

    I press my lips to Artemis's, silencing her curses, and therefore allowing the omelets to burn, before we are interrupted by Calcifer. 

    "May all your bacon burn!" The fire demon shouts.

    "Calcifer, we aren't making any bacon," Artemis sighs.

   "I shall not take your orders, human!" Calcifer tries to defy Artemis. She simply puts the omelet pan on top of him again.