Howl
She was beautiful, and she wasn't even aware of it. She wasn't even aware of the effect she had on him. His heart would flutter in his chest, and even skip beats when he inhaled her natural scent, when she kissed him. He'd felt warmth in his chest where his heart should have been when he'd shown her his secret garden. He loved seeing the wonder and awe on her pretty face when he'd brought her to it, and he was glad that he now had someone to share it with. They frequently headed there with Markl, Heen, and even the now decrepit (and rather senile) Witch of the Waste in tow. She was so feeble and weak that one would almost have to pity her.
Almost.
Well, Sophie did, at least. Whereas Howl himself felt nothing but revulsion and disgust towards her and could not believe he'd once pursued her for her affections. When he'd finally gained them after about a month of courting her, he'd gotten far more than he bargained for when he found out that she was actually an old hag that had used a variation of beauty charms and potions to temporarily restore her youth and entrap handsome young men like himself, and then steal their hearts. Her power had once been impressive, and he admitted to once having a grudging admiration for her in that regard. In a way, it was a shame that Madame Suliman had stripped her of her powers, but it wasn't like she hadn't had it coming. The Witch had lost her heart to greed and lust for power long ago, and had become an ugly, grotesque thing. Howl was grateful that even if he didn't have a heart, at the very least his scruples were still intact, if they kept him from winding up like her. He shuddered at the thought.
Howl had been surprised when Sophie had taken her in along with Heen, and couldn't help but be moved by her compassion. Her heart was kind and her nature gentle, and no matter who they were, Sophie could never turn anyone away in need. When Calcifer had suggested throwing the Witch of the Waste back out onto the wastes and leave her to her fate, Sophie had looked angrily at the fire demon, daggers in her gaze.
Calcifer had cringed under her furious glare, his flame shrinking. That was the moment that Howl had seen Sophie's protective streak, and fell even more in love with her. He felt a fierce sense of possessiveness and protection at the thought of Sophie. He knew that without a doubt, despite his cowardly nature, he would lay his life down for Sophie in a heartbeat if it ever came down to it, as he'd done when the bombs were falling on the hat shop. She meant the world to him, and every day their love for each other seemed to grow in leaps and bounds. Every day, he discovered a new thing to love about her. How she'd ever thought she was boring was beyond him. His little mouse had turned into a magnificent swan. With her starlight hair, she was his snowy dove, and all the other women were as crows by comparison.
In his eyes, his Sophie would always be nothing less than beautiful.