Perfect

Her laugh broke the silence. It was a quiet laugh, one that was used to cover up tears, one of exasperation and pain.

"God," she muttered through the laughter, "is it really that impossible for someone to think you're perfect?"

"Yes, it is, because I'm not. All you see is what you want me to be," he replied sadly. She wiped away the tears hastily and looked up at him.

"Why would I see you as an imperfect asshole then? I know that you're a complete dick, and that you're not the most attractive being on the planet, but that's the point isn't it?" she rambled. "You're not perfect, but perfection is just an illusion! The definition changes with every person!"

"I'm not perfect, and I'm not the same person you fell in love with."

She gave another heart-wrenching laugh. "I know," she said with a sad smile, "but I can't stop loving you."

She turned to him fully. "You're my best friend. You are the most important thing in the world to me. You mean more to me than-- than Harry Potter! Than all my fandoms! I wouldn't be alive if it wasn't for you! I--" She stopped, her voice breaking.

"Just-- thank you."

And with that, she got up and left.