A/N:

An ode to Green? Kind of. Because he's just that kind of guy.

Image of perfection

He always appeared to her in her dreams. He was handsome and tall and unnervingly right - as in real life. But contrary to the real Green, her dream-version smiled at her; reached out for her; laughed,; even touched her swiftly now and then.

(She was asleep; but the brush of skins ser her body on fire.)

Still, mostly he looked at her. Just looking, with those intense eyes of him; emerald-coloured, almost as shining and invaluable as gems.

More, perhaps.

(Occasionally, his looking would turn into staring. It unnerved her and sent a chill down her spine - unpleasant and pleasant at the same time.. And she couldn't help but wonder if he knew what she was thinking.)

She couldn't tear her gaze away, and lost herself into those deep pools of green, with no emotion or thoughts or dreams appearing on the surface; all feeling stuffed behind his iron defences, blocked with sarcasm and wit and pure knowledge.

So smart, so beautiful. So perfect.

(So unreachable, too.)

His skin was fair and unflawed; tricks of the light made it seem like milk, or a more tasteful substance - and it made her want to set her teeth in it.

His hair was dark-brown; a loose spiky strand of it cast a shadow on his face, and it seemed to glisten - she knew it would be silky-feeling and it made her want to touch it.

(She almost reached our her arm.)

Those thoughts he gave her at night, she didn't forgive him. She always ended up awaking flushed or aggravated, full of want; and her heart was torn between the two emotions.

But the thing that she blamed him most for

(more than the perfect skin, the mesmerizing eyes, the unstoppable intellect)

was the fact that her dream-image would dissolve into thin air once the heavy shadows of the night retreated, showing the truth in a patch of incoming sun light.

She wished he would smile at her like that one day; reach out for her; even touch her swiftly now and then.

(And it would be better than in her dreams, she knew. Because he was the kind of guy that only could be grasped when full awake, using all your senses - and even then, a lot of the perfection would go to waste.

Almost like the gems buried deep under the ground: beauty appearing when coming above the surface - but so much leaving behind in the process. It was the price and image of perfection.)