She doesn't understand that it's her imperfections that make her perfect.

She's not like Nico, covered in dark eyeliner, and an image she can't live up to.

She's not like Karolina, with a mythical body and a personality that rivals that of a treestump.

It's when she yawns and reaches for her glasses that aren't there because she's wearing contacts. It's when she sits with her feet on the couch, playing with the lint on her stockings. It's when she wakes up in the morning, her purple hair all over the place, and still manages to look adorable.

These are the moments when I fall in love with her all over again.

We're sitting on the couch when I tell her. Her head is on my chest and I'm running my fingers through her hair. Her feet are up on the arm of the couch, and in her hands is an old copy of the only book she brought with her. I kiss her forehead and she giggles, putting her book down.

Without thinking, I put my lips down to her ear, and whisper, "You know I love you, right?"

She doesn't hesitate. She just reaches for my head, and kisses me deeply. "I love you, too." She whispers it, and my ears almost don't catch it. But they do.

I stare at her for a second, completely and utterly thrown by the sincerity in her voice.

"Ew, they're doing it again! Nico!" Molly shrieks.

"Chase, Gert, could you guys please try and control your hormones while we're in the room. Jesus Christ!"

But Gert just laughs and kisses me again, before nestling into my chest and drifting off. I stroke her hair until she falls asleep in my arms, and I never want to let her go.

She doesn't understand why I love her. Hell, I hardly understand it.

But when we're together, it's an island of right in a sea of wrong. And that is something I understand.