"I'm imperfect you know."

Anna stared intently at the cold angel before her. His eyes darted towards her; she could barely see the garnet-brown irises beneath his shaggy long burgundy hair that were staring intently at her. His face remained flinty and he stared at her, blinking once. Anna waited for a response, realizing that none would come she continued.

"I talk in my sleep for one… you already know that. But there's more. My hair never works the way I want, it just flops around like a dead fish in clumps…yet at the same time is completely wild like tangled vines…. What's more, these freckles – I mean they make my face look all speckley. Can't say much about my figure either… any curves I had went away from neglect at the ranch… and they won't come back. But it's more than appearance. You know I'm loud… I talk too much. I get bored with everything… sometimes I smell!"

"A simple yes or no would have sufficed…" the mercenary mumbled. But whether she heard him or ignored him was anybody's guess. She continued her rant.

"The only thing I can cook is tomato soup, and we both know how that turned out."

Kratos shuddered as he pulled his eyes away from the ranting woman.

"And I have a mole at the bottom of my foot! Who has a mole at the bottom their foot? It's weird! Unnatural I tell you."

"I am aware of the mole…." The stony man muttered quietly.

"In addition to talking, I kick and flail in my sleep… that's a problem. I eat everything in sight and no matter what I do some food always ends up on my fingers in a sticky mess. I don't know how to manage money or even know if I can make money."

"…"

"I rant when I get nervous… that goes with the talking too much. Sometimes it takes me a while to understand things. I am not nearly as smart as you. I always get dirty… you always comment how there's always mud on my face or in may hair… look I get along better with adults than with children! Oh! And I am clumsy.., always dropping things… tripping…I… I am not very good at cleaning either…I can't sing, or fight well, or have any real talents to speak of so…"

"Anna."

"Not to mention the scars…" she lifted her hands protectively to her shoulders, crossing her arms across her chest, "Those are…."

"…Anna…."

She continued, her voice picking up it's pace and seemed to be becoming more hysterical, "But not just the physical scars. The emotional scars. I mean, I can't stop the nightmares or the…" her voice became more frantic as she closed her eyes, "the memories… I am damaged. You don't want that…. And what if… what if I lose control and turn into one of those…things… what if we have children… we can't do that to them it wouldn't be fair. I'm! I'm no perfect! I am a million things, damaged, broken, but I am no perfect. I am only –"

"Enough." Kratos commanded. His voice was soft and gentle, yet stern. Anna glanced over at him, her mouth open, her tongue poised for the next complaint. She stopped and closed her mouth, turning her gaze from the intense eyes of the man before her. She could feel the hot tears filling her eyes. She hugged herself more tightly as one warm tear trickle down her cheeks.

"I'm just…. Not perfect."

Silence reigned. Anna took a deep breath in, trying to calm herself. How could she, the person farthest from imperfection be with such a perfect man? Yes, he was stony, silent, but everything he touched seemed to turn to gold. He could do it all, fighting, cleaning, speaking…. He was so eloquent, so smart. So… perfect. She swallowed. And looked up into the sky as more tears silently dropped down her cheek.

"Anna…" the tender voice called to her once more. It was deep and calming, like the sound of waves upon the shore. Anna did not respond at her name. She simply closed her eyes again. She was next aware of two strong arms enfolding about her from the back. She stiffened. Red-brown hair began to caress her cheek as the man slid her face next to hers, his breath upon her ear; his smell was of deep earth, fresh and growing yet somehow damp and musky. Her breath caught in her chest, her tears stopped.

"Anna…." He whispered, "your one flaw, is not being able to see how….beautiful and strong you are." Anna continued to stare, eyes wide, as the man dropped a small kiss on her check from behind. His lips were warm and landed on one of her tears, spreading the moisture on her cheek. It felt strangely cool when he withdrew his lips. He continued, turning her so that she was facing him. "Ever freckle…every out of place hair," he tenderly reached up and tucked a wayward strand behind her ear, "every word you say, every murmur in your sleep…" Anna tried to look away, but he gently placed his finger under her chin and turned her head towards him once more, he looked at her seriously,

"Every scar…" he leaned in and kissed one of the smaller scars on her neck, he lingered a moment, taking in her scent before lifting up his head once more and looking in her eyes.

"Everything… every thing that you deem as an imperfection…. Is perfect. You are perfect."

Anna remained speechless. Kratos adverted his deep red-brown eyes.

"It's me who is imperfect. And mine is a selfish request… for such a fallen man to ask such an angel to be…. It was foolish. Forget I asked."

Anna ran her fingers through her messy hair. Part if fell upon her shoulder as she did, sending her sweet scent, something light like cream and honey. She let out a sigh and could not bring herself to look at the quiet man beside her. She swallowed.

"It' no… it's just…" she stammered. Why was it that she could talk about anything but what she actually wanted to say, "All I meant is… I am imperfect… I wanted you to be aware so if we did… you know…. " she said the next two words quietly, almost as if they were a secret "Get married…..That you wouldn't be disappointed."

Kratos looked up at her, his strange red-brown eyes studying her every feature. Anna bit her lip and glanced away.

"I could never be disappointed in you…" He promised solemnly.

Anna let out a long sigh….

"So… is that a yes?" Kratos asked once more, his voice quiet. His tone was flat, but as Anna stole one more glance at him she could see there was a glint of hope in his eyes… what was more, and what was irritating, was there was also a spark of confidence. He knew what her answer would be….
Anna did not say the word "yes." She simply leaned over and pressed her lips against the quiet man's own mouth. The kiss in itself conveyed her feelings – she was trusting him. Trusting him with all of her imperfections. He returned her kiss with one of his own, deep and passionate – a promise that he would accept her, hold her, love her forever. When they broke apart, she settled into his arms once more. She felt like she fit there; his arms rested perfectly over her shoulders, allowing his hands to fall right into her own hands; she was the perfect size for him.

Anna let out small audible gasp at her sudden realization.

"What is it?" he asked.

Anna smirked slightly to herself, "It's nothing." Whispered.

The mercenary didn't pry – he rarely did seeing as talking was not one of his favourite pastime, and prying was even more irritating to him.

Anna snuggled closer into his chest, taking in his deep scent one more time.

Anna knew that she was not perfect. In fact, she was probably the farthest thing from perfect.

However, she knew that she was perfect in one way.

She was perfect for the man who held her in his arms.

And that, for her, was perfection in itself.