What is it about Rose? Exactly how is she so perfect?
Well if I’m being honest, she’s not. No one’s perfect.
God knows she can’t fake an accent to save her life, or tell a convincing lie and also get away with it. She’s not a da Vinci or an Einstein (and I’m certainly glad for that).
That’s not to say I’m perfect, either. I mean, blimey, I can’t toast a bagel without turning our kitchen into a great, big fire hazard. Sometimes I forget things and Rose has to be my brains. And Rassilon! — I’ve driven our car into more rubbish bins than I can count on one hand!
So with that being said, I think her imperfections are what I love most about her. They define who she is, and they make her human.
Perfect for me, though? Oh, you’d better believe it.