trouble, let me be // howl pendragon x reader
cats cling to you like you’re gravity itself— howl smiles at the encounter, it’s sweet and he swears he’s never seen anything like it. of everything he’s seen and of everything he can questionably do, you intrigue him. you’re merely picking through a crate of berries, too. rendering the vendor curt and judgemental, you completely lack disdain towards any sort of effect the man’s attitude might have on you. sure, what he assumes to be your cats are in fact toeing all over his crop with flicking tails and nudging purredly at your arms, but you simply just do not care. hell, you even seem to be talking to the animals with that man just in front of you as well. you're so utterly unbothered, howl almost envies that about you.
“rosemary? do you have rosemary?” he watches you tilt your chin to the man behind his stand, simultaneously lifting a hand to rub along a chubby tabby cat’s head. he grumbles a “yes” of sorts before scrambling to fetch the herb. the aforementioned cat emits a sound suchlike a purr before stepping lightly into your weaved basket (he wouldn’t be surprised to find that you’d weaved it yourself), making room for you to lay the rosemary tuft at its side.
you take it with thanks, picking one or two more cloves and some bayleaves, even a handful of what howl assumes to be mushrooms. they’re large and round, pale and looking almost airy like a foam ball. the feline within your basket huffs a mrooow when the spherical things settle around its furry body. you ought to wash them later. he does not doubt that you will.
howl does not realize how long he’s been lingering along this stairwell’s corner, watching you, until you call out to him— all without name or pointers or any other kind of acknowledgment, not so much as a look his way. he understands why, once he senses the familiar drag of magic along his arms. he almost feels the need to preen himself at the so concurrently unfamiliar sensation. he smiles at such a bold motion coming from you. you’ve acknowledged him first.
“it’s rude to stare, you know.” you murmur from where you are. your voice seems to resonate so deeply within his ear canal that he can only assume you’re using your magic on him. the smile curling howl’s face almost hurts. but the vendor, heady with assumption and judgement, opens his mouth with a furrow of brows before his eyes catch howl, as pristine as ever, stepping forward with a pretty cut of eyes. the man’s mouth closes just as quickly at the sight, yanking a sign down and tramping his way inside his shop— so awfully brash. he obviously knows who howl is.
“hm? i’m merely lingering.” howl responds in tandem, brushing your magic from his shoulders gently. your hand is still hanging midair, cupping those loose (and now useless) coins you were going to pay the man for his produce. you sigh at his curt absence and pocket them instead, finally turning your head to visibly acknowledge the wizard. he makes his way to the side of you, eyes grazing over the now lonesome products of that vendor alongside you. he continues smoothly, “is that so bad?”
a dark, short-haired and slender cat rounds your ankle and hisses lightly up at howl, eyes brightly gold with flattened ears. the both of you look downward at the commentary, and you hike your foot upward to rub along its back soothingly. “it is, only because you’re stressing them out and scaring away my business.”
he gathers “they” are the cats surrounding you so dutifully. the one at your feet finds its way back beneath your skirt, but not before casting one more sidelong glance up at him. howl shakes his head smilingly before looking back at you. “only?” he repeats insinuatingly, and you mirror his motion, though unsmiling.
“the great howl pendragon, i assume? jenkins?” your body turns toward his for a moment, pressing your hip to the table at your side. he does not miss how your basket-cat peeks its head from its current abode, green-eyed this time, though equally condescending as the other. it seems to know of him as well. you glance at the feline knowingly and stroke twice behind its ear.
he leans with you, facing you full-bodied and crosses his arms at the residual feel of your attention. “knowledgeable, aren't we?” he hums, and you scoff almost immediately. “it doesn't take much knowledge to know who you are.” you meet his eyes, “all the girls fawn over you, yet fear your heart-eating tendencies.” your lips part then in what he can only assume to be purely faux amusement. “is that true, by the way?”
and, you begin walking away from him, even with the smug answer of do you want to find out? bubbling audaciously in his throat. he laughs and follows you anyway.
“i mean,” you continue, stepping as rigorous as you do graceful upon the stony walkway, “given the varying other rumors of how heartless you are, you seem to have eaten many many hearts.”
howl follows you with wide, long-legged steps. he keeps to your pace rather effortlessly, you can tell by the close clicks and clocks emitting from his fancy shoes against the cobble. though you have no doubt he’d hear it anyway, you mutter under your breath something along the lines of his “self-proclaimed prestige, honestly.”
you both come to a stop in front of the busy tracks, allowing the train to pass. “so,” howl speaks much louder now to accommodate for the train’s roaring transit. “you know so much of me, yet i know nothing of you.” he turns his head slightly to watch you from the corner of his eye, smiling with his silent asking of getting to know you. you’re silent, watching the locomotive veer by.
“perhaps a name would be nice,” he tries. your hair whips in the same direction as the artificial wind as you finally turn to look at him again, lifting your gaze. “why? so that you can track me down and eat my heart?” you pry skeptically. he blinks then and you’re gone; he hadn’t noticed the then lack of mechanical rumbling, completely shadowed in your charm.
fine, he’ll use a little of his own magic.
he skews a deft hand, yet you barely flinch at his re-appearance. however, he does not miss the way your back straightens instinctively as he’s borderline leant over you now, even within just the mere second of stagnancy upon walking. you toe a loose pebble by accident and scowl his way, and he figures that if you were any more alike to your fuzzy companions, your ears would be flat as well. you give your name snippily, though in a manner that insinuates how irritating it truly is to constantly remain impassive toward him. you also begin walking just a bit quicker, but it’s no problem for your fellow wizard.
“ah, you’re a witch as well?” he prompts, gazing above your head and over the crowd. you retain your impassivity with yet another scoff. “don’t act like you hadn’t known that the moment you saw me.” your brows are now raised unconvincingly, eyes flicking toward his blouse-covered arms and then back up to him. “you were rubbing all over your arms, weren’t you?”
howl thoroughly enjoys the slight curl of a smirk beginning to adorn your face. you’d be right, obviously. he tells you just that.
withal, before he allows you your space again, you halt your stride just as you abruptly feel his thumb and forefinger drag along the back of your neck, up to the base of your skull. he pinches so very lightly, yet you feel as though he’s completely rendered you motionless with such minute touch. he tries his best to ignore the drag of your hair over his hand while he’s reached beneath it for your neck. then, he finally cuts contact, pulling his pinch from your neck with a humorsome “aw.”
you cant your head quickly to face him while he dangles a silky wisp of what looks to be a cobweb in front of your inquisitive eyes. “looks like somebody’s hexed you,” he deduces almost placatingly, flicking the strand from his fingertips. “who’d you anger, hm?” his hand plants onto his hip, punctuated by a quirk of brow.
you suspire, rubbing at the back of your neck scoffingly. “—witch of warding,” it’s near a laugh when you say it and he finds it ineffably pleasant. “she’s very hard to please, you know? all i did was—”
“you stole from her, did you not?” he interrupts fluidly, like he were there himself. you wouldn't put it past him, really. your lips remain parted over the excuse you were going to make, instead closing them and shaking your head as if to dismiss him. you still do not part with your grin. “so many questions from you…” you mutter, finding yourself inexplicably weak-willed to his innate magnetism.
just as any other girl, you think. practically begging for your heart to be ripped from you and devoured. you wouldn’t like to consider yourself just another rumor.
and just as you open your mouth again to tell him off, he reaches a hand out once more. you step back out of instinct but he follows anyway, and you’re basket-cat purrs sweetly within its slumber as it feels howl’s knuckles drag over it, skull to spine.
he could’ve gone that far with you, you ash the thought from your mind displeasingly.
you gather what his motive is once he eventually pulls back, though not before scratching behind your feline’s ear. howl holds his palm out to you now, tufts of cat hair resting there in his movements’ wake. ah.
“i’ll find you with this,” he murmurs, nodding in thanks to your furry friend. he seems to know that anywhere this cat is, you'll be there as well.
you raise your chin upon understanding, brows jutting provocatively. “you see, he'll just stay far from me, if that's the case.” he must be your tabby cat. howl begins to think that he'd just be hogging you, if that's the case. you brush your knuckles along the animal's spine just as howl had.
as he thought, greedy thing.
“i’ll count on it,” he answers, ready for the challenge. “it’ll be more rewarding.”
you laugh, “says who?”
howl begins to retort something like it were the simple act of unthought breathing, but he begins gnawing and unweaving your basket with his white teeth, chirping interruptedly. the two of you turn and watch the cat, your fingers cusping his chin to prevent him from doing any more damage. in the same moment, you and howl meet eyes. he closes his palm over the cat fur.
“we’ll see.”
you affirm, “i look forward to it.” it sounds promisingly declarative.
you begin to step backward all-so lithely, and howl doesn’t know what the motion would encompass, if not a tease. he stays where he is, letting you go.
“so do i.” he agrees. with thumb to ring, he forecounts that the castle will remain at porthaven’s door only temporarily.
he will begin searching for you in the wastes.
