Imperfection is beauty
So Namine is beauty

She would get up every morning at seven o'clock, right before I woke up for work, and make pancakes. Well... try to make pancakes. They would end up being dark brown and have an unappealing smell to it. I wouldn't even go on to describe the taste of them. They were horrible, just flat out bad. I would walk downstairs and see her trying to flip them in the air, and on several occasions they would get stuck to the ceiling. The first time I saw her trying to scrape it off the ceiling I nearly died laughing. I got a slap across the face and she didn't talk to me until later that day, when she saw I was cleaning up the residue of her catastrophe.

--

My last birthday she had planned a whole party with all of our friends. I said I could help her plan, but she insisted on her doing the whole thing herself. Our old friend, Olette, had given her the number to a food caterer. So Namine had called up the caterer, and it was all set. The day of the party quickly came, and everyone had a really good time. Finally, after a bunch of people complained about being hungry, the caterer came. It was a tall slender woman, with bright red lipstick, wavy brown hair, and a skimpy little sailors outfit, with no food. I saw Namine's eyes become wide, and she quickly went to find Olette. She slapped herself, her face becoming red. She dialed the wrong number.
Most of the guys at the party forgot about eating.

--

Once I had mentioned to her how the front yard had become too wild, and I had to mow it when I got the chance. I was so busy with work I rarely had time to do anything. One day I had come home two hours earlier then usual to see her next to the giant mower. She sat on the ground looking puzzled. I walked over to her, and kneeled down next to her. "What are you doing?" I asked. She turned to look at me and blushed, burying her face in her hands. "It took my shoe."

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One day I came home and she was sitting on the couch, her arms were crossed and she looked like she was going to explode. When our eyes met she opened her mouth but no words were said. I could tell, she was pissed off. "Whats wrong?" I asked. She glared at me and stood up, putting my cell phone out for me to see. There was a text that said, 'Hey baby.' but there was no name. "Who is she!" She exclaimed. I grabbed my cell phone and put my hands on her shoulders. "Look, calm down its not who you think it is." I said quickly. She grabbed the cell phone and called the number. "Who the fuck are you, you...you whore!" She exclaimed when the woman answered.
It was my mother, she had gotten a new cell phone.

--

Once I left on a business trip for a week, and she had come to pick me up at the airport. So I waited to see her face, but there was a giant crowd around me. I peeked to the side and saw her, with a grin on her face. I called her name, but she couldn't hear me. She was looking at someone else, and I saw her jump on someones back, laughing. The man had spiky blonde hair like mine. So I watched her face as she realized it wasn't me.

--

"Roxas you don't plan on publishing this book do you?" She asked, holding a blue book up, her eyes narrowed. Namine: Imperfection

"Hehe... uh oh..."