Curious [Howl x Reader]

Chapter One: When (Y/N) Met Howl...

Summer. That blessed season when the sun painted the sky gold until nine, only to be replaced by the crepuscular luminescence of fireflies in June and the glow of the fireworks festival in July. The part of the year you planned to consume simply napping, reading, and strolling through the square.

And today was no exception. After an hour-long nap after lunch and a literary rendezvous with a little Jane Austen, you'd elected to spend the rest of the afternoon running errands in the village square, where you currently were.

For once, no one was in the square, not even the firework merchants. A cool breeze played around your ankles. In the distance, a clock chimed three times. In response, an old hound dog, napping in the cool, blue-gray shadows on the butcher's doorstep, yawned and stretched itself out, then turned back over. A lazy silence hung over the air.

The only thing punctuating the quiet that permeated the square was the sound of your boots, tapping out a muffled rhythm on the cobblestones beneath your feet as you headed down a small side street. Small shops lined it on either side. On the right, your aunt's apothecary. On the left, a cobbler.

As you passed a milliner's shop, your pace quickened. You squeezed the strap of your satchel. Down this road, if you remembered correctly, was an antique shop. The perfect place to find your aunt a nice set of wine glasses for her birthday—and at a good price. While she did have a passion for crystal and fine china, the best birthday gift you could give her was a good deal.

You continued until you were standing at the very end of the street, where it terminated in a dead end. Here, despite the almost complete absence of clouds in the sky, the buildings, hunched together, created a large pool of shadow, casting a veil of obscurity over this forgotten corner of the street.

You squinted at the signs hanging overhead. You knew from experience that the one on the left was a bookstore, the one in the middle was a carpenter, and on the right...

On the right, squeezed into a corner, was a shop you had never seen before. A tiny storefront with a smooth, light gray stone façade stood there. It was unadorned, save for a small window and a sign above the simple wooden door.

The window drew your eye first. Behind its glass, a plant, heavy with blossoms, hung over a short stool. The broad, white petals, layering over each other like scales on a fish, were speckled with color as if a careless artist had flung on them all the shades they could find: carmine, goldenrod, azure, indigo.

Around the main cluster of blossoms fanned out odd, zig-zagging dark green leaves. These brushed against a few of the other oddities on display: a grotesque, scarlet boar mask, a many-geared golden mechanism that blew out iridescent bubbles every few seconds, and a shield with a gauntlet and several spikes protruding from the left side.

Huh, you thought to yourself. Never saw anything like this at the other shop. I bet the owner here travels a lot. I mean, where around here could they get a plant like that?

Your eyes traveled from the window to the hand-painted sign above. Next to a drawing of a vase with a tendril of smoke curling around it, someone had written in neat, white lettering the words, "Howl's Curio Emporium."

You tapped your chin as you stared at the sign. Howl... the name sounded familiar. But how? Howl, Howl, Howl... A vague, half-remembered memory almost surfaced in your mind, but like a minnow in your hands, it escaped.

You shrugged. It didn't really matter who this 'Howl' was, so long as they could sell you some nice wine glasses. That WAS what you were here for, after all. And so, with a squeeze of your satchel strap, you pushed open the door and crossed the threshold.