You can't place a word on it, but there's something about her that makes you happy.

The others call her Phlegm, but they don't see what you see- she tries so hard to get your family to like her, how she relentlessly practiced her English so it's better than yours now.

Privately, you call her your little flower, although she's nearly a foot taller than you.

She was born as perfection. Brave. Beautiful.

You were born as poor. Disgusting. Beastly.

But somehow, inexplicably, you fit.

And isn't that all that matters in the end?

.oOo.

Written for the No Names/Drabble Competition, where the rules are to write a drabble without mentioning names. /The pairing was BillXFleur, by the way/

Also, the Fairy Tales Challenge /Beauty and the Beast, a stretch, I know/

Love you all!

xxCJxx