Perfection.

It's a word that varies between people, and holds it's own meaning in your heart and in your mind.

In you heart, it's the way his whole body moves when he lets out a laugh.

In your mind, it's the way he can break down your wall, go beneath your mean nature and find you.

It's the way he's patient with your fights; he doesn't yell, he doesn't call you names, he does tell you that you're over reacting, but you understand. A lot of the time it's nothing more than a misunderstanding, mixed in with a little insecurity here and there. He lets your fire simmer out before trying to speak, especially when he sees how frustrated with a subject you are. He'll hear you out, then talk you down in a matter of moments. How you aren't surprised to hear the truth from him, because you trust him.

Perfection is the feeling you get after the battle. How he lays down and pulls you close to him, as you rest your head on his chest. You can't tell if your heart is pounding from the anxiety of stating your opinion, or how close you are him.

After two years, he still has that effect on you.

You've never had someone like him. A person to understand you in every way that you need it. To accept your rational behavior, your jealous moods, your aggressive plans, your artistic outlook, not to mention your bitchy comebacks.

It's how he knows just how to grind your gears; by not texting you constantly, by wanting guy time instead of time with you, regardless of having spent the entire day with you, the way he would wake you up early on Saturday. You know he only does it to bother you, it's his way of making you act like you care.

Although it doesn't quite bother you that he comes over at odd hours of the morning, as long as he's quiet. At first it would scare you to hear your bedroom window slowly slide open, and have someone crawl in next to you, for obvious reasons, but once his arms wrap around your waist, you know it's okay.

He needs you, too, you know. His days seem to be a little more dreary without you around, according to your friends. He smiles less, stays out of most conversations, and is almost constantly day dreaming. They only guess that it's revolving around you, and you truly hope that it is.

As he is your best friend, you are his. The one he goes to when he's on the verge of tears, and the first one he calls when he has exciting news. His days are incomplete without hearing from you. How he would go to the end of the earth, if he knew it would make you happy. How the thought of losing you scares him to the core.

Perfection is the way he loves you, would do anything for you, would put up with everything, would defend you on anything, would go to the ends of the world to see you smile.

Perfection is the way you love him, sacrificing anything to make him happy, knowing that whatever he says, it's only because he cares about you. How he knows you care by your odd little ways of showing it. A kiss on the cheek here, a note in his locker there, a picture left in his car. The simplest things can mean so much to him.

It's the way he needs you, and the way you need him.

Perfection is how she's Jade, and he's Beck.

And they're perfect.