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‘Arghh!’ Howl awoke with a cry of pain. ‘My head feels like it might explode and-‘. Before he could complain about his stomach he was met with a gurgling sound that indicated he needed to get to the bathroom immediately. Sophie, who was just waking up next to him, chuckled - what a nice way to wake up.
While Howl was bringing his guts up in the bathroom, she thought she may as well start breakfast.
‘Morning, Calcifer!’ She chirped as she made her way downstairs.
‘You’re awfully perky this morning.’ Calcifer could never get a read on Sophie’s moods, and her being cheery was always suspicious.
‘Howl’s hungover.’ She let out a small giggle, failing to hide how entertaining his pain was to her. ‘He’s currently emptying his stomach contents into the toilet.’
‘Must have been the vodka.’ Calcifer sighed.
Sophie began readying the necessary ingredients for a Welsh hangover cure - a ‘fry up’ as Howl called it - eggs, bacon, sausages, bread to be toasted, mushrooms, and of course, the ‘black pudding’ Howl had brought home from Megan’s the last time he visited.
‘You’re not expecting me to cook all that are you?’ Calcifer whined, as he did every meal time. ‘I’m not a slave to Howl anymore, you know?’
‘I know but you are his friend, and you wouldn’t want him to go without breakfast, would you?’ She reasoned.
‘Gah, I’m too nice to you guys.’ He conceded, allowing Sophie to place the frying pan in his fiery mouth.
She thought the smell of cooking bacon would lure both the boys down to the kitchen, though Howl was probably still feeling the effects of last night’s vodka.
‘Has Michael gone out already?’ Sophie asked.
‘He left before you got up, said something about Cesari’s and cream buns...’ he trailed off, preoccupied with the egg shells Sophie was feeding him. ‘Meh, I wasn’t really listening - you humans bore me.’
‘Charming,’ she smirked as she continued shuffling the frying pan about on top of Calcifer. Howl had certainly been a long time - he couldn’t have been beautifying himself, he was too sick for that today, so maybe he wasn’t quite finished puking yet. Sophie thought about checking on him, but before she could fully think this through a loud groan startled her.
‘Urggghhhh!’ Howl dragged himself down the stairs. His blonde hair was tangled in knots, his skin was paler than a sheet, though with a green tint, and beneath his normally sparking blue eyes were dark, dull circles. ‘I think I’m dying.’
‘Wow,’ Calcifer cackled. ‘You look terrible.’
‘This is how you treat a dying man? I liked you better when you had a heart.’
‘Stop being so dramatic, you’re just hungover.’ Sophie chuckled - she really needed to do a better job of hiding how funny she found the situation.
‘Well I’m never drinking again.’ Howl slumped down onto the sofa, concealing a gag as he did so - not that there was anything left to bring up. ‘What’s that smell?’
‘A fry up,’ Sophie said unsurely, making quotation marks with her hands as she did. Howl’s face turned greener at the thought of food.
‘Sophie... I really think that if I eat now, I’ll die.’
‘Howl, you’ve just spent half the morning throwing up everything in your stomach - probably your stomach as well - if don’t eat, you’ll feel worse.’
Sophie was probably right. Though Howl would never admit it, she was right about most things. Slowly, he elevated himself from the sofa, steadying himself as he did so since the room had started to spin. After a few shuffles he’d found his way to the dining table, where a full plate was now waiting for him. He flinched a little at the sight of food, though it did smell wonderful. Sophie came over with a tub of cutlery, placing it down on the table with a loud thud.
‘Argh!’ Howl cried out, clutching his head.
‘Woops!’ she snickered. She hadn’t meant to put the tub down with such a clang, though subconsciously she did enjoy getting her revenge on Howl after the previous night’s antics. ‘Eat up.’ She said, handing him a knife and fork.
He stabbed the piece of bacon and gnawed at the fat. While a fry up usually cured his hangovers, today was a different story - after all, he hadn’t had vodka in a really long time, and he’d forgotten how strong the after effects could be.
‘Sophie, I don’t think this is working, I can’t eat anything.’
‘Well if you’re not gonna eat it then I will!’ Calcifer said as he stretched out a fiery arm to grab the plate, pouring its contents into his mouth. He so rarely was able to enjoy the fruits of his own labour, and if he did say so himself, he was a first-class cook.
‘You’re too old to be getting yourself in such a state, Howl,’ Sophie sighed while tucking into her own breakfast. She would have been annoyed that he didn’t eat the meal she’d prepared, but at least Calcifer seemed to enjoy it.
‘Old? Old? I’ll have you know I’m in my twenties!’ Howl said as he dragged himself back to the sofa, lying down in a foetal position.
‘You’re basically 30...’ she reminded him. ‘Plus you can’t make a habit of coming in drunk in the middle of the night and waking everyone up, not when there’ll be more people living under this roof soon.’
‘Don’t tell me you’ve invited Martha to stay? Or worse, your mother?’ Howl couldn’t stand the idea of Fanny sticking her nose into his business - it seemed the Hatter women had a talent for that.
‘No, not them.’ Sophie smirked, still tucking into her breakfast, which Howl noticed was a much larger portion than she usually managed.
‘Then who?’ He asked.
‘I think all that alcohol is making you stupid.’ Calcifer crackled, still chomping on Howl’s leftovers.
‘Huh?’ Howl looked up to see Sophie, leaning back in her chair with her hands on her belly.
‘I’m pregnant, you silly wizard.’