A/N:

This request is for anon reviewer Guest.

And speaking of such, because I think it's pointless for some Author's to post a review to 'answer' a question. It could be drowned out by other reviews and I just think that they're trying to up their review count. Or they are and they just think that they're being clever at it. Don't mean to offend, but that never made sense to me. Anyways, to answer Aqua (another anon reviewer) about GumixLen requests: I haven't come up with one that I deem suitable for it. That, and because I'm only making ONE chapter PER PAIRING, I do NOT create doubles. It would defeat the purpose of this Fic. In any case, I haven't come up with one that's suitable just yet, and it takes me a while. Sometimes an idea will just hit me at the moment I get a request, and I just can't help but get it out. Other times, I have to revise and strike and huff and want to pull out my hair because I do what I can to please my readers. All I'm asking for is just for a little patience on my behalf. It's not like I'm some kind of machine that can churn out stories at the drop of a hat whenever a person wants me to.

Rant finished, and I'm so very sorry for this long and winded Author's Note. OTL

Pairing: Lenka Kagamine and Mikuo Hatsune

Genre: Romance

Rated: K

Warning(s): Niet.

Chapter 25:

Perfectly Flawed

The teal-headed young man huffed, tired, and the words came out before he could stop them. "Must you always be so perfect?"

Lenka's big aquamarine eyes snapped up to him, blinking in confusion as she dried off a plate. "Whatever are you talking about, dear?"

He sauntered over to her, in no rush, and put a large hand on the counter beside her, his eyes almost sad as they watched her petite little hands wiping the water from the plate. "I guess I just don't understand, is all. . ."

She observed him. Her hands had slowed in their drying, as her movements often did when he was close to her. She fluttered her eyelashes at him, almost without thinking. "Don't understand what?" She put the plate down along with the towel and shifted to stand in front of him, concerned hands going to adjust his collar.

He flinched away, though, as if her hands were on fire, and she stopped, her hands slowly retreating back. "How you can be. . ." he faltered for a moment, before choking out, "so you, and we could be here. . . and you're not gone."

Lenka tilted her head to him, a small tendril of blonde hair falling out of place from her ponytail and glinting gold in the light. It made his heart drop. "Sweetheart, whatever brought this on?"

He stared at her a long time, unresponsive. Finally, he turned around, walking away. "I don't know. Never mind it."

"Mikuo," her scolding voice stopped him, "you know I'm not perfect. You've told me before I'm not. That was one of the reasons I fell for you. You didn't look at me like some perfect, little pristine China doll, the ideal housewife, not like the rest. . . I've never heard you call me perfect before. . . It's. . . It's a little unnerving." Her voice quivered. Hardly anything bothered her, really bothered her. It shattered him.

Turning around, he walked back over to her, his hands coming up to wipe away any tears he thought might have fallen. There were none. Still, he continued the motion, if only to soothe her. "I don't think of you like that. . . Just like you said you don't think of me like some quiet, creepy freak. I don't, okay? I know you're not perfect perfect, but. . . you're perfect to me. . . Is that wrong?"

She stared at him, sorrow long faded, and just managed to shake her head.

He breathed out in relief. "I just said so because. . . I don't get why you're still with me, after all this time. I would have left me a long time ago."

She couldn't help the small giggle that popped from her lips, like the soft ring of a wind chime, musical and pure. He wanted to smile, but he held it back.

He didn't want to risk the disappointment. "Why are you still here?"

Her smile faded a second or two, before it came back, kinder than before, more loving, and she brought her hands up to remove his from her face. She held his calloused, hard hands in her softer ones, gently. "You said why yourself, silly. . . I know you think you're creepy, and a freak because you're always hiding in your sister's shadow, and whatever other ridiculous things people used to tell you. . . But I know you're not. I understand why you are the way you are, and I don't mind." She came forward to wrap her arms around him, hugging tightly, as he remained motionless, listening. "I don't care what people think, Mikuo. I only care about you. I love you. I could never leave."

It took a while for these words to sink in, but she was patient, and soon she felt his muscles shift. His arms came around her, soft at first, before encasing her tightly. He didn't have to speak, but he did anyway, "I love you, too." And she believed him, just as he believed her. Disappointment be damned.

They stayed that way for what felt like forever, and Lenka was happy. Mikuo may not have seemed like a prince to most, but she didn't care. She wasn't most. She was Lenka Kagamine, and Mikuo was her prince.

She was never going to let him go.