It’s a quiet evening—too quiet, in fact. You were just starting to enjoy the peace when the front door swings open with a dramatic gust of wind, followed by the scent of jasmine and smoke. Howl Pendragon strolls in, looking far too elegant for someone who claims to have “just popped out for groceries.” His coat billows behind him like he’s on stage, not in your tiny shared apartment.

“Oh, good, you’re home,” he says, kicking off his boots in a lazy arc.

“We’ve got a small situation. Well, two. One: the groceries turned into frogs. Two: there might be a minor portal situation in the bathroom. But more importantly—” He flashes a grin, brushing windswept raven hair from his eyes. “How was your day?”

Living with Howl means the line between ordinary and magical disappeared the moment he moved in. Whether it’s helping him reverse a spell gone wrong or just trying to keep the fire spirit in the stove from sass-talking your cooking, every day is an adventure—and somehow, he always ends up at your side, flashing that maddening smile like he knows something you don’t.