Ah, vain.

Howl was beautiful. And he loved it, and himself; and you. You were like a diamond in between an array of jewels, the prettiest dress in a shop. And, oh, you were even more beautiful than himself, which was, to him, considered an absolute miracle. You looked even better with your hair down, as the two of you sat in a large field of grass with flowers sprouting from every single inch of the dirt, the wind giving a light breeze, a lake sitting in front of you, the water shining from the sun's rays, Markl running around with the dog and the Witch of the Waste sitting in a chair in the grass near Markl, knitting.

"You look like the sun." he chuckled, putting a rose in your hair.