She was aware of him.
Aware of every line, bend and curve of his face.
Aware of his brown, most of the time unruly, but nonetheless perfect hair.
Aware of the way his brows arches in every expression he makes.
How he smiles as invitation for adventure she could never resist.
How hearing two sets of heartbeats calms her down.
Aware of his soft hazel eyes that's always brimming with emotion; Most of the time awe, excitement and playfulness, other times it's frustration, anger or panic and sometimes, in the rarest of times, it's loneliness, endearment or dare she say it, love.
He's almost human but then again, he's far from it.
He is clever. The most clever.
He could be annoying sometimes.
But he is kind.
And gentle.
And he is lonely.
And she loved him.
She loved every bit of him.
It was absurd.
It was funny to some degree.
And it was tragic.
Because he wasn't real.
And it was silly even to her, that she keeps waiting. Waiting to finally see him standing at the door of his tiny blue box with his weird screw driver, hand extended to take her on another adventure.
Then again, he's not real.
But... he was real to her though.
Real enough.
And she loved him.
