Newt through Tina's Eyes.

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters from Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them.

He was brave

She had seen it in New York. The way he went after Credence without hesitation, determined to save him. Willing to face the wrath of MACUSA to save an innocent. At that moment Tina had thought he was the bravest man she had ever met. She had seen his bravery in Paris too. In that amphitheater, standing beside his brother, ready to face Grindelwald, regardless of the damage to himself.

He had little moments of courage too. The courage he had to muster every time he visited his father, knowing it would be a trying experience but still going all the same. The courage to sit through hours of book signings, even though they terrified him because he knew his fans appreciated it. The bravery it took him to take that first step with Tina, and the next one and the next.

(She still thought he was the bravest man she'd ever met).

He was skilled.

Incredibly so. His talent for magic was incredible. His case was one such example. Not every wizard could pull off such a feat, let alone keep magical creatures alive and well in a space of his own creation. Every time Tina visited the case, she felt a burst of pride at the wonderful world Newt had created, with nothing but his own vision and merit. His battle skills were something to be admired as well. In that first awful battle with Grindelwald, not only had Newt managed to stand against the wizard but also was able to unmask Grindelwald's true image. And in Paris, he was more than capable of holding his own against Grindelwald's fanatics and their vicious curses.

He was gentle

He always was. Always petting his creatures, letting them know how much he cared for them. He never yelled, never shouted when they misbehaved. He would never do them harm. He was gentle with her too, though it was not because he thought she was fragile, but because that was his way of showing her how he felt. The soft brush of his fingers against hers, before taking her hand lightly as they walked together. The caress of his hand against her cheek as he brushed away a stray lock of hair. The way he lightly rested his forehead against hers when he was trying to express himself but couldn't find the right words. She knew he was a man of confidence underneath all that awkwardness and that he had no difficulty asserting himself during times of crisis, but his gentler side made Tina's heart melt.

He was beautiful.

He was, truly, and she made it her mission to remind him of that. After a lifetime of being looked down on and compared to others, Newt did not think very highly of himself. But Tina told him, every chance she could, how absolutely beautiful he was, inside and out. He had such a wonderful face. Tina often found herself getting lost in those eyes of his, blue, like the mooncalves, but with a hint of brown. His hair, an eternally scruffy, a mass of tawny curls that tried to hide his eyes but never could accomplish it. His face, covered with freckles, like the night sky had been reborn across his face. She would happily spend her days mapping the constellations on his face (Newt had blushed deeper than she'd ever seen when she told him that). On top of that, he had a beautiful soul. He was pure of heart, always looked for the good in people. He was a man who simply loved creatures and wanted to show the world how fantastic they were.

He was shy.

Not always. But in large crowds, he spoke with a softer voice and gripped her hand tightly. When they were at his family home for dinner, he rarely participated in the conversation, and when he did it was never more than a mumble or a quiet response. When he visited her in the Ministry he shied away from her co-workers, avoided their questions and his eyes darted to Tina's for help. There was nothing wrong with Newt's shyness, but Tina knew that he struggled with people and that he probably would for the rest of his life. (He was never shy around her though, and he took every opportunity when they were in private to smother her with affection.)

He was strong.

Not in a conventional way. But strong in his unwavering devotion to his creatures. He would die before he let someone hurt them, would rather endure torture than see them abused or used for terrible deeds. They were his children, his companions, and he would stop at nothing to keep them safe. He had a strong moral compass too and was not afraid to call others out on it. He openly questioned the rules forbidding contact between the magical and non-magical community, he would gladly contradict anyone who spoke ill about beasts and he was unafraid of backlash from the pureblood families that controlled the Ministry.

His strong will and devotion extended to her too of course. He was her rock when she needed someone to listen, to hold her when she broke down and cried until her eyes were dry. He never left her alone, never abandoned her when she needed him most. He had hexed three of her co-workers for speaking badly about her behind her back, and had, on two separate occasions, punched his father in the face for making unsavory comments about her during dinner. ("I know you can handle yourself, love. But he is my father and therefore my responsibility. He's also a twat, but there's not much I can do about that").

He loved her.

That's what he told her. He had first professed it in front of the bow-truckle tree. They had just put Pickett back for the night, and Newt had said something that made her laugh. He had turned to her and stared for a long moment, a small smile playing around his lips, then whispered softly, so softly it was a miracle she had heard it:

"I love you."

She had stopped dead, heart pounding, unable to believe what was happening. He slowly reached up and gently placed his rough calloused hands on either side of her face and rested his forehead against hers.

"I love you, Tina Goldstein. You are wonderful and lovely and spectacular. And I love you so much."

Tears had leaked out of her eyes and she had let out a little gasp at his words. She could not speak, could not breathe. Newt loved her. She loved him too, of course, had done so for quite some time, but at that moment, words failed her. Instead, she traced his cheekbones with her fingers before brushing her lips against his. This contact was brief, but the kiss still made Newt smile like he was the happiest man on the planet (which he was at that moment in time).

He reminded her of his love for her every day, which Tina found equal parts embarrassing and endearing. From that day in front of the bow-truckle tree on he called her "love". "Here you go, love" came with every cup of coffee he made her, "Good Morning, love" whenever she woke up. The only time he wouldn't call her "love" was when he was feeling particularly adventurous and would call her "darling" instead, ("You look positively magnificent darling"), which would leave her a blushing, stuttering mess. (Which Newt found to be incredibly adorable.)

He showed his love with touches too, which grew in frequency and in intensity during their years together. It began with brief brushes of his fingers across her cheek, or the small squeeze of hands while the held each other, but it grew into quick pecks on the cheek in the absence of a "thank you" and a casual arm around her waist whenever they were with company, a constant reminder that to him she would always be a priority. He whispered his adoration for her against her skin in their most intimate moments, never once letting her believe that he didn't love her with everything he had.

He showed his love with spontaneous gifts that Tina had never asked for or expected, not that she never appreciated them for what they were. Rare flowers from his garden told her he was thinking of her, even when he was with his creatures. Cakes from her favourite bakery that he brought home from work told her that he had spent the whole day missing her. Books from other countries where he traveled to research told her that he knew her well. The smile he would give her as she accepted them was always as wonderful as the gifts themselves.

He told her he loved her the day he proposed, and tears had streamed down her face when she said yes. On their wedding day, he promised to love her until the day he died, and for a long time after that too. A day did not pass in Tina Goldstein-Scamander's life when she did not feel loved by her husband.

Newt was brave. He was skilled. He was gentle. He was beautiful. He was shy. He was strong.

He loved her.

And Tina loved Newt with all her heart.

A/N: Thanks for reading!