That Isn't How You're Supposed to Imagine It

I'm an ordinary online writer, and every day I get into arguments with my fans in the comments over my writing. It's mostly because they complain that my descriptions are too impressionistic and don't do justice to how handsome their dream guy is. At first, I could still laugh it off. You don't know what you're talking about. This is proof of my great writing. Then one day, I transmigrated into my own book and met the dream guy my readers adored. He really was so handsome. When he smiled, it was like early spring, when the chill has just begun to ease and flowers are blooming. The moment I thought that, in the bitter winter, with snow falling thick and fast, the ice and snow at his feet melted into the earth in an instant. Flowers sprang up all over the damp soil, trembling in the cold wind. The dream guy: "..." Me: "..." The next time I saw him, I still thought he was handsome, but I didn't dare let my imagination run wild. I just thought his silver hair shone as brightly as the moon, his left eye held the stars, and his right eye held the sea. This handsome dream guy, his hair glowing faintly in the night, knocked on my bedroom door. When he blinked, I really did see twinkling starlight in his eyes. His expression and tone were perfectly composed, but his gaze betrayed the faintest hint of helpless despair. "What are you imagining now?" he asked me. "I was thinking..." I hesitated. "...Maybe I'm imagining things the wrong way."