SUMMARY: Because as she watched him even from afar, she knew. She had found perfection.

DISCLAIMER: I still do not own Skip Beat – hence, I'm relegated to writing fan fictions. But who knows? Maybe, one day I will.

It is a truth universally acknowledged that no one is perfect.

Years before now, she might have been inclined to agree. After all, once upon a time, her childhood prince turned out to be a frog, and she couldn't change him back even if she kissed him.

But now, after several years of being with him, she'd beg to disagree. Because, as she watched him even from afar, she knew, she had found perfection.

It was stamped there in his aristocratic features – in the masculine set of his jaw; in the delicate arch of his brows and; in his absurdly long lashes that can make any woman green with envy.

It was there in his nose that should have belonged to a fairy prince; in his flawless skin comparable to a baby's, and; in his shiny, golden, blonde hair currently dyed darker than black.

Perfection was there in the way he could make any pieces of clothing seem tailored fit for him; in the way he could make a sarcastic remark seem like a kind word; and in the way he could charm people, in whatever age and gender, without exerting too much effort.

She could see perfection there, in his beautiful green eyes that shower her with unabashed love and adoration. She could feel it in his gentle touch and unwavering hold that says he would never let go. She could sense it in his innate wisdom, kindness and trust that helped her in finding and loving herself and healing her past wounds. Most of all, she could taste perfection, there, in his kiss.

But she fell in love with him, not only because of that. But also because, he was perfect, even in his darkness.

She saw it in the way he tried to atone for his sins. She felt it in the way he made peace with his demons. And she knew it because he chose her. And she chose him.

And nothing could ever be more perfect than that.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: This is um, sort of, a spur-of-the-moment story. Inspiration struck while I was attending my Election Law class, and I was really bored. I wonder why inspiration always comes when I'm supposed to be busy doing other things. Hmm. Please tell me if you like it or hate it or whatever it made you feel by dropping a review! (I hope you'd like it!)

Why do I always feel like my writing style is very rough? Maybe because I'm intending this to be some sort of a prompt? What do you, guys, think?

PPS: I hope you didn't get confused with the 'him's. (But maybe I'm asking for too much. So, I'm sorry if you got confused.)