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"You need to stop doing this."

"Stop doing what?"

"Writing me into your stories."

"...why?"

"Because…it scares me. I'm not this guy that you write about. I'm not some kind of Prince Charming and I'm certainly not a sea God or whatever you like to say about my eyes every now and then."

"Oh really?"

"Yeah. You really need to work on your judgement of people, because this is all wrong. It's like you don't know me at all!"

"So why don't you correct me and I'll fix my idea of you accordingly."

"Well…firstly, I'm a really nervous person."

"Yeah. Your hands are either fiddling with your hair or your sleeve, or you're biting your nails."

"And I don't like going out. I'm a hermit."

"Except to your best friends' houses, or to the animal shelter, or to me."

"And I'm dead inside."

"Says the boy who hides his tears at the sight of an injured puppy."

"I do not."

"Yes, you do."

"Anyway, I'm not always nice to you. In fact, I really don't do enough."

"You're right. Except…you're the one I call when I'm upset, you're the only person who tells me you love me every night, you drive half way across the city to see me-"

"-it's still not enough. I barely give you the kind of attention you need."

"And yet, I can sleep in absolute peace next to you."

"Still, I'm nowhere near this guy you write about."

"What, and you think that Prince Charming has absolutely no flaws?"

"I highly doubt he does."

"You know what I think?"

"What?"

"I think your judgement of Prince Charming is all wrong."

"Sorry?"

"He's Prince Charming, my love. Not Prince Perfect."