Yoona had always wondered why Minho loved her so much. She had not much to offer in the first place—average looks, average hair, and average personality. Back in high school, nobody really liked her because of her ‘choding’ personality, or only used her because she was ‘Him Yoona’.

~

But then in college when she’d met someone by the name of Choi Minho, everything changed. He began to notice her, look out for her in the corridors, and sometimes drop and apple or orange by her table during break. It wasn’t long before Yoona started to realize that the school’s sports fanatic Minho had liked her.

It seemed completely unbelievable then. Minho was one of the almost-popular people. He wasn’t a wannabe, but he didn’t want to be popular so he stayed in middle-high class range. While Yoona… was in Photography and that placed her in the low-middle class. She was happy though—she wasn’t an attention seeker; Yoona had never been.

Minho hadn’t made a huge fuss of asking her out. One of those frigid winter mornings (yes, you heard that right—frigid), he’d taken her hand and led her out of the classroom and into another empty one. She was annoyed, of course, because she hated missing classes, while Minho wanted to take his time; that and the fact that he couldn't wait any longer to confess.

“Im Yoona,” he had asked, smiling sheepishly, a slight blush tainting her white snowy cheeks the moment her full name had left his dry pale lips, “I am not very good with such confessions but I know one thing. Whenever I see you walking along the corridors with your camera in hand, waiting to snap the next picture, the way you walk, the way you wait, all so patient and careful… it intrigues me, me in completely and it’s not just that… You’re beautiful, if you don’t know. The way your personality contradicts—what with your childish side and your lady-like side and your Him Yoona side and your soft, weak side… I’ve always wanted to have you by my side, in one-way or another. At first I just wanted to be friends, then best friends, but… now? I’d like it much better if you were my… girlfriend. Will you… be mine?”

And that was the moment where he pulled out a single red rose, and held it with both his hands, a gesture he had not done before, and a feeling of nervousness and excitement he had never felt before… until now. Rose in his hand and a small smile of his face, Yoona’s blush grew at an alarming rate.

“Yes.” She said simply, nodding her head and accepting the flowers. “May I… kiss you?” Minho asked. Never once before he’d asked to kiss a girl, but he felt that it was appropriate—necessary, even. Yoona’s heart raced. Some kid back in middle school stole her first kiss, and somewhere at the back of her head she remembered his name, Cho Kyuhyun. She’d always disliked him, and she probably always would.

“Yes.” She said again, and slowly, ever so slowly he brought his arms around her waist, pulling her close and he backed against the wall, as careful with her as he would handle a glass piece, firm but gentle at the same time. She found herself unconsciously sliding her arms on his shoulders, turning so that her hands met at the back of his neck.

Minho realized that their heights were perfect. She wasn’t very short, a little taller than the average girls, and he was extremely tall. While standing, Minho only needed to tilt his head slightly down and Yoona needed to tip her head slightly up to meet each other’s lips. And so it did; smiling, Minho thought this is the one.

~

She also often wondered why Minho had wanted to live his whole life with her. There could be so many other women he could spend it When she, why Im Yoona? Why not the perfect golden girl Kwon Yuri? Why not the ladylike, Korean-American Jung Jessica? Why not the upbeat and friendly Hwang Tiffany? Why the totally normal, totally boring, Im Yoona?

~

Minho hadn’t made a huge fuss of proposing to her. It wasn’t some kind of huge bombastic news ad, or radio DJ announcement—it was something much more private. And nobody had witnessed it; he was sure of it.

At that time they had already dated for two years, the longest time a couple amongst their circle of friends had lasted without breaking up over little fights. They were admired and envied by many because their love never once faded. Minho had decided, like he usually did in their relationship, that it was enough.

Minho had asked her out when they were in their final year, so they’d left the school after dating for about three months. Then they had gone out to find their own jobs, while maintaining a strong relationship.

He had made sure it was a special date—exactly two years after they dated, that morning, he sent her a text message while he was at work. He’d left early that day to finish as much as he could to make sure the second half of the day was cleared for her. She was taking a day off that day to rest; that he didn’t plan, it was simply (very fortunately) coincidental.

Come meet me by our college at about three in the afternoon, and don’t be late!

When Yoona woke up that morning to that text, the first thing she thought was, that’s it? That’s all you’re doing for our two-year anniversary—just that curt, short, almost disrespectful message? She grumbled and cursed under her breath. She’d woken up late since she stayed up last night editing her work—she was a part time columnist and part time photographer. Yoona looked at the clock. It was twelve sharp.

Minho on the other hand expected her reaction, and knew that it was going to anger her that he added no extra ‘hearts’ or ‘smiley faces’ or sweet nothings of the sort. She liked that, but he purposely didn’t want her to come in a happy mood. If she came slightly angry, the whole thing would be much more interesting.

Both of them, including Yoona surprisingly, couldn’t wait for three in the afternoon to arrive, and time passed excruciatingly slowly. It was painful hearing the second hand tick so slowly. When the time did come though, Minho grabbed his coat and almost forgot the ring (he ran back up to get it again, forgetting that his secretary could help him with it), driving as fast as he could to the college. Yoona was there before him.

“Late by three minutes, Choi Minho, late.” She shook her head, pointing at her watch. “Now what do you want me to do, Mister?” Her tone had an edge to it, and he chuckled softly before taking her hand and leading her inside the school. She’d forgotten much about the place. You really couldn’t expect a person to remember much unless you really loved it after one year and nine months, now could you?

And then as he reached the special classroom, he pulled her quickly into it like he did before, and held both her hands. “What, pray tell, are you doing?” Yoona hadn’t realized. Minho shook his head, a little disappointed but he figured she would realize sooner or later.

“Im Yoona,” he had whispered, and Yoona widened her eyes, because she finally realized what he was trying to do, “I never have been good at confessions like these… have I? Even since then. But the thing is, Yoona, the moment I kissed you that day I made a mental promise never to let you go, because I knew that you were the only one for me, the only one that could complete me and that you were the only one I could love wholly without exceptions. I told you how much I loved your contradicting personalities, right? I still do. I told you how much I loved the way you took photographs, right? I still do. And to add more to that list, you write. Every time I see you pick up a pen or pencil, switch on the study room lights and sit by the table writing, I have this urge to go up to you and kiss you because you look so… special. I don’t know how you make my heart race just by looking at you concentrating on something. What makes it even more special is that this beautiful woman before me is mine. Not anybody else’s, but mine. I love you, Im Yoona. Will you marry me?”

And then he bent on one knee and held out the tiny box, now open and showcasing a very special ring. It wasn’t very eye-catching—it only had one sparkling crystal on it, the rest of it was a silver band. Yoona smiled nonetheless, tearing up because she was getting nostalgic.

“Yes.” She could barely whisper, her voice choked and strained. Minho chuckled and put on the ring before wiping her tears with his thumbs. “May I kiss you?” He asked, and she laughed softly, nodding.

Just as they did before, he pressed himself against the door, as their arms travelled to secure their position, holding on tight as if they would die if the weren’t connected like that. They hadn’t grown much since then, and if it was, they only grew about one to two centimeters. Their heights were still perfect for each other.

“I love you.” He said before crashing his lips onto hers, a desperate need (because this time, he couldn’t wait to meet his lips with hers as gently) to kiss her. Yoona sensed his urgency and picked it up quickly; kissing him back with equal passion, heat spreading through their bodies, bringing about a strong adrenaline rush.

The kiss was much longer than the one they had then, but the motive behind it was the same. Yoona had never believed in soulmates, or fate, or destiny—to her, they simply didn’t make sense, but when he kissed her like that, in that same place after to years, she knew that he was the one.

~

“Penny for your thoughts, Yoong?” Minho asked, greeting her as he went into their bedroom. He’d just returned from making breakfast.

“I was just wondering why you chose me over all the other girls and all the other women you’ve seen in your life time. I’m so… plain.” Yoona replied, fixing her nightgown and her hair. Minho took her hand and stopped her from grooming herself. “You’re not plain, you’re beautiful. You’re special. In my eyes, you are more than perfect. Perhaps it’s because after so long I’ve learnt to see past your flaws and look at them as… positives. Do I have to remind you every day, that no matter what, I love you?”

Yoona wanted to fix herself again, but Minho stopped her. “Don’t. You look perfectly fine.” He smiled, carrying her off the bed. He set her down at the end of the frame of their bed, letting her stand on her own feet as both of them wrapped their arms around each other’s necks. Minho leaned his forehead onto hers and kissed her nose. “To your question, Minho, you don’t have to tell me that every day because I know it, but it’s nice to hear it once in a while.”

“I’m telling you that every day from now.” He grinned, and looked into her eyes. She blushed, smiling. “I love that I can still make you blush.” Yoona shook her head, and kissed him fully.

It was then, in that kiss, that she realized why Minho chose her over those other girls. It wasn’t because she was pretty. It was because you come to love not by finding the perfect person, but by seeing an imperfect person… perfectly.

A/N: Just a quick oneshot I wrote to satisfy my MinYoon desires before I leave the country and not post anything for a while.