HMC drabble
I've taken to writing on buses ... and it's been rather productive. FwG is progressing on those journeys now - thankfully, after my block with the chapter I'm working on!
And this little drabble came out of nowhere. It's not HP, but I suppose it's about time I properly dabbled in the HMC fandom after lurking about for several months.
Title: More Than Words
Fandom: Howl's Moving Castle
Pairing: Howl/Sophie
Rating: PG
Word Count: 440
More than words is all you have to do to make it real
Then you wouldn’t have to say that you love me
‘Cause I’d already know …
She doesn’t need to hear the words.
Her sister and mother’s husbands are full of sweet, sugary platitudes. ‘Beautiful dove,’ Mr Sacharavell Smith calls her mother Fanny; ‘Dear heart,’ Ben Sullivan says to her sister Lettie; Michael Fisher tells her sister Martha that she’s his darling. They all vow, frequently, to their wives, ‘I love you.’
They are appalled at what she puts up with from her own husband. Howl calls her ‘Mrs Busybody’, ‘Old Long-Nose’, and ‘Meddling Sophie’. They can’t understand how she tolerates the way he flirts with female customers in their flower shop. They shake their heads sagely when she and howl have their rip-roaring rows (at least once a week). They pepper her with well-meaning advice, to beware in case he slithers out of their commitments to each other.
She doesn’t blame them, for she faced the doubts they have now during the early month of her marriage. There are things she knows now, however, things which no one else would understand. If they did, they would never question Howl’s faithfulness.
They don’t see the light in his eyes when he calls out to her, a flame that is never present when he addresses those other girls, no matter what he says to them. No one seems to catch the fondness of his tone, which belies any insults, and is reserved solely for her.
In one ‘Mrs Nose’, he packs more affection than her in-laws’ multitudes of ‘sweet’ and ‘honey’ ever could. She would rather have this than the false, honeyed words he uses when flirting.
When they quarrel, outsiders always here the angry words she and Howl shoot at each other, but never see the gentle touches, the penitent gestures, the soft apologies when they make up, that make the rowing worth it.
So she waves off her family and friends’ concern with a smile that tells more about her content than any words possibly could. She is happy, she is loved, and she doesn’t need to hear it to know it.
Words, after all, are meaningless. Nobody knows that better than Sophie, whose husband is an incorrigible liar. His heart, however, cannot lie, and from it come his actions, which tell her, louder and clearer than any of the declarations Michael, Ben, or Mr Smith make to their wives, that he loves her.
And his love is so much more than words; it permeates his every touch, glance, and sound. It fills the senses; Sophie does not know how anyone can limit it to mere words alone.
After all, love, like Howl, is far too great to be pinned down to three little words.
Then again, it was probably the song that inspired it in a way, although I only properly thought of that song after I started writing.
Back to HP fiction now. I finally submitted Starting Points to Checkmated. Thanks for the beta, msmoocow!
Speaking of CM, there's a new Scribbulous prompt out. I want to write in that. And I have the time stamp meme queenb23more asked for, which I have a good idea what to do with (sorry, dear, I meant to pen it down today but haven't yet). There's sowritesauds's time stamp memes to read (I read the first I asked for today, and it's fantastic, Auds!), and peki updated Shall Rise Again, one of my D/G favourites. Whew. Much to do on the to-do list, isn't there?
Busy seems to be my mantra these days. :D
And this little drabble came out of nowhere. It's not HP, but I suppose it's about time I properly dabbled in the HMC fandom after lurking about for several months.
Title: More Than Words
Fandom: Howl's Moving Castle
Pairing: Howl/Sophie
Rating: PG
Word Count: 440
More than words is all you have to do to make it real
Then you wouldn’t have to say that you love me
‘Cause I’d already know …
She doesn’t need to hear the words.
Her sister and mother’s husbands are full of sweet, sugary platitudes. ‘Beautiful dove,’ Mr Sacharavell Smith calls her mother Fanny; ‘Dear heart,’ Ben Sullivan says to her sister Lettie; Michael Fisher tells her sister Martha that she’s his darling. They all vow, frequently, to their wives, ‘I love you.’
They are appalled at what she puts up with from her own husband. Howl calls her ‘Mrs Busybody’, ‘Old Long-Nose’, and ‘Meddling Sophie’. They can’t understand how she tolerates the way he flirts with female customers in their flower shop. They shake their heads sagely when she and howl have their rip-roaring rows (at least once a week). They pepper her with well-meaning advice, to beware in case he slithers out of their commitments to each other.
She doesn’t blame them, for she faced the doubts they have now during the early month of her marriage. There are things she knows now, however, things which no one else would understand. If they did, they would never question Howl’s faithfulness.
They don’t see the light in his eyes when he calls out to her, a flame that is never present when he addresses those other girls, no matter what he says to them. No one seems to catch the fondness of his tone, which belies any insults, and is reserved solely for her.
In one ‘Mrs Nose’, he packs more affection than her in-laws’ multitudes of ‘sweet’ and ‘honey’ ever could. She would rather have this than the false, honeyed words he uses when flirting.
When they quarrel, outsiders always here the angry words she and Howl shoot at each other, but never see the gentle touches, the penitent gestures, the soft apologies when they make up, that make the rowing worth it.
So she waves off her family and friends’ concern with a smile that tells more about her content than any words possibly could. She is happy, she is loved, and she doesn’t need to hear it to know it.
Words, after all, are meaningless. Nobody knows that better than Sophie, whose husband is an incorrigible liar. His heart, however, cannot lie, and from it come his actions, which tell her, louder and clearer than any of the declarations Michael, Ben, or Mr Smith make to their wives, that he loves her.
And his love is so much more than words; it permeates his every touch, glance, and sound. It fills the senses; Sophie does not know how anyone can limit it to mere words alone.
After all, love, like Howl, is far too great to be pinned down to three little words.
Then again, it was probably the song that inspired it in a way, although I only properly thought of that song after I started writing.
Back to HP fiction now. I finally submitted Starting Points to Checkmated. Thanks for the beta, msmoocow!
Speaking of CM, there's a new Scribbulous prompt out. I want to write in that. And I have the time stamp meme queenb23more asked for, which I have a good idea what to do with (sorry, dear, I meant to pen it down today but haven't yet). There's sowritesauds's time stamp memes to read (I read the first I asked for today, and it's fantastic, Auds!), and peki updated Shall Rise Again, one of my D/G favourites. Whew. Much to do on the to-do list, isn't there?
Busy seems to be my mantra these days. :D