Her arrival is welcomed with a chuckle and, after letting her snatch up the gift, with an eager embrace. Howl can hardly keep himself in check with her here now - the purpose of this rendezvous should be patently obvious. He's barefoot, enchanted with fresh beautifying spells, and his shirt is unbuttoned, pulled open wide to expose his collarbones, and barely still tucked into his unzipped pants.

"It is," he says, his voice low. One of his hands cradles the back of her knuckles and he leans his face in close to hers, smiling. "For you, but for us both, too. You can open it now, or..."