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The first rays of May sunlight, filtered through the tiny, perfectly crafted windowpanes of their miniature diorama home, stretch across the rumpled linen sheets. Jedediah stirs, a soft sigh escaping him as he reaches for the familiar warmth beside him, only to find cool, empty space. His eyes, still heavy with sleep, flutter open.
A pang of something akin to loneliness, fleeting and quickly dismissed, flits through him. It’s his birthday, and the quiet of the morning feels unusually profound.
He pushes himself up, the miniature quilt pooling around his waist, and swings his legs over the side of the bed, his bare feet meeting the cool, smooth floorboards. The air in their tiny abode is already fragrant, a delicate perfume that whispers of celebration. He wanders through their meticulously detailed miniature home, a place of comfort and shared dreams. His gaze catches on the overflowing vases and pots strategically placed throughout their living space.
Massive amounts of lilac, their tiny, clustered florets a symphony of deep purple and soft lavender, spill from ceramic pitchers on the mantelpiece and the kitchen counter. A secret smile plays on Jedediah’s lips; these are his favorite shades, a fact Octavius, with his keen eye for detail and even keener heart, must have remembered. Interspersed with the lilacs are delicate sprigs of Hawthorne, their white and pink blossoms symbolizing hope and protection, and the elegant, bell-like blooms of Lily of the Valley, a potent declaration of the return of happiness.
It all screams love, success, and a future brimming with joy. Each bloom, perfect in its miniature scale, seems to hum with the quiet anticipation of their life together.
A new scent, rich and savory, cuts through the floral sweetness. Bacon. Sizzling, crisping bacon. His stomach gives a delighted rumble, and Jedediah’s bare feet quicken their pace, carrying him towards the kitchen. The sounds of gentle clinking and soft humming grow louder. As he rounds the corner, the sight that greets him warms him from the inside out.
Octavius, in a miniature, perfectly pressed linen tunic, stands at the tiny stove, his back to Jedediah, a small, intricate spatula in hand. On the counter beside him, perched with an almost comical dignity, is a miniature version of a Swainson's hawk, its feathered head cocked slightly, its beady eyes fixed on the bacon strips. It’s a gift, Jedediah realizes, a nod to his love for the wide-open plains and the creatures that soar above them.
A wave of pure affection washes over Jedediah. He closes the small distance between them in two quick strides, wrapping his arms around Octavius’s waist from behind. He feels the lean strength of Octavius’s body, the steady rhythm of his breathing. With a playful grunt, Jedediah lifts him slightly, swirling him in a gentle circle, a soft, contented laugh bubbling up from his chest. He leans in, pressing a tender kiss to the back of Octavius’s neck, just where the soft hair meets his collar.
Octavius lets out a surprised, fond laugh, a sound that always makes Jedediah’s heart swell. He turns in Jedediah’s embrace, his spatula still clutched in one hand, his emerald eyes, bright and sparkling with affection, meeting Jedediah’s. In that moment, Jedediah gets lost.
He drowns in the depths of those green pools, seeing not just love but a shared history, a vibrant present, and a bright and full-of-promise future stretching out before them. The world outside their miniature kitchen, the vast, silent museum, fades away. There is only Octavius, his warmth, his laughter, and the profound connection that binds them.
“Happy birthday, my love,” Octavius murmurs, his voice a low, melodic rumble that vibrates through Jedediah’s chest. He reaches up, his fingers gently tracing the line of Jedediah’s jaw, his thumb caressing his cheek. “Did you sleep well?”
Jedediah leans into the touch, his eyes still locked with Octavius’s. “Better now,” he says, his voice a little husky with emotion. He pulls Octavius closer, resting his chin on his shoulder. “All these flowers… and the hawk. You shouldn’t have, Octy.”
“Nonsense,” Octavius replies, a soft smile gracing his lips. “It’s your birthday, Jedediah. And besides,” he glances around their flower-filled home, “they bring a certain… vibrancy to our abode, don’t you agree?” He gestures with the spatula. “Now, the bacon is almost ready. And then, my dear, we have a very important appointment.”
Jedediah pulls back slightly, a playful grin spreading across his face. “Oh? And what might that be, Caesar?”
Octavius playfully swats his arm. “You know perfectly well, you scamp. It’s cake testing day! We only have 117 days until the wedding, and we simply must finalize the confectionary masterpiece that will grace our reception.” He winks. “Unless, of course, you’d prefer to leave such crucial decisions entirely to me?”
“Never!” Jedediah exclaims, feigning horror. “This is a joint venture, Octy. Our wedding cake, our future. I wouldn’t miss it for the world.” He inhales deeply, savoring the scent of bacon. “But first, breakfast. I’m starving.”
They settle at their tiny kitchen table, the miniature hawk observing them from the counter. The bacon is perfectly crispy, the eggs fluffy, and the coffee, brewed in a minuscule pot, is rich and dark. They talk, their voices low and intimate, about the day ahead, about the wedding plans, about small, everyday things that, in their shared space, feel monumental. Jedediah recounts a dream he had, a fantastical adventure in the museum’s African exhibit, and Octavius listens with rapt attention, offering insightful comments and gentle teasing.
As they finish their meal, the museum above them begins to stir. Distant footsteps echo, the soft whir of cleaning machines can be heard, and the hushed murmurs of the early morning staff filter down. It’s almost time for them to emerge from their miniature world.
“Right then,” Octavius says, pushing away from the table. “Let’s prepare. We need to be discreet.”
They move with practiced ease, gathering the few items they might need for their excursion into the human-sized world. Jedediah checks his miniature cowboy hat, adjusting it just so. Octavius ensures his tunic is immaculate. They share a look, a silent understanding passing between them. The museum is their home, their playground, but also a place where they must maintain their secret.
With a final glance around their cozy home, they make their way to the edge of the diorama. The transition from their miniature scale to the vastness of the museum floor is always a slight jolt, a dizzying shift in perspective. They scamper out, their tiny forms almost invisible against the polished marble floor. The cavernous halls stretch out before them, silent and imposing.
They navigate the museum with the stealth and agility of seasoned explorers. They dart from the cover of one exhibit pedestal to another, using the shadows cast by towering dinosaur skeletons and ancient sarcophagi as their allies.
Jedediah, with his cowboy swagger, takes the lead, his eyes constantly scanning for any sign of human presence. Octavius, ever the strategist, maps their route, mentally calculating the quickest and safest path. They pass the Hall of African Mammals, where life-sized elephants and lions stand frozen in dramatic poses. Jedediah pauses for a moment, admiring a majestic giraffe, its long neck reaching towards the painted sky of the diorama.
“Still think we should’ve gone with the safari theme for the reception,” he whispers, a mischievous glint in his eye.
Octavius rolls his eyes, a fond smile playing on his lips. “And have our guests dodging miniature wildebeests? I think not, my dear. The Roman garden theme is far more elegant and, dare I say, less chaotic.”
They continue their journey, their destination the museum’s large, modern kitchen, where the catering team prepares for various events. It’s a place they rarely venture during the day, but today, the promise of cake makes the risk worthwhile. They slip through a barely ajar service door, finding themselves in a bustling, scent-filled corridor. The aroma of freshly baked goods, sweet and intoxicating, grows stronger with every step.
Finally, they reach the main kitchen. It’s a whirlwind of activity, giant humans moving with surprising speed, clanging pots, and the hum of industrial ovens. Jedediah and Octavius find a vantage point behind a stack of oversized flour sacks, their eyes wide with wonder and a touch of trepidation. On a massive stainless-steel table in the center of the room, an array of cakes, each a towering, frosted masterpiece, awaits. There are at least half a dozen, each a different flavor and design. A tall, elegant woman with a chef’s hat, presumably the head baker, stands beside the table, a clipboard in her hand, talking to another human.
“Alright, Jed, operation cake-tasting is a go,” Octavius whispers, his voice filled with a mix of excitement and military precision. “We need to be swift and precise. A small sample of each, for accurate assessment.”
Jedediah grins, his cowboy spirit ready for the challenge. “You got it, Octy. Let’s get to it.”
They wait for a moment of distraction – a delivery truck rumbling outside, a burst of laughter from a nearby prep station – and then they move. They scurry across the vast floor, their tiny legs moving as fast as possible. They scale the leg of the stainless-steel table, using a discarded dishcloth as a makeshift rope. The climb is arduous, but the promise of cake fuels their ascent.
Once on the tabletop, they are in a wonderland of sugar and frosting. The cakes loom over them like edible mountains. The first is a classic vanilla bean, its white buttercream frosting adorned with delicate sugar flowers. Jedediah takes a cautious sniff.
“Smells like… happiness,” he declares.
Octavius, ever the pragmatist, gently nudges him. “Taste, Jedediah, taste. We must be objective.”
They carefully chip off a tiny crumb from the base of the cake. Jedediah pops it into his mouth, his eyes widening. “Whoa. That’s good. Real good. Like a cloud.”
Next is a rich chocolate fudge, dark and decadent. Octavius, usually reserved, lets out a small gasp of delight as he tastes it. “Magnificent! The cocoa is truly exquisite.”
They move from cake to cake: a tangy lemon raspberry, its layers bright and refreshing; a spiced carrot cake with cream cheese frosting, warm and comforting; a red velvet with its dramatic hue and subtle cocoa notes; and finally, a pistachio almond, unexpected and uniquely flavorful. With each taste, they exchange glances and murmur comments, their tiny faces alight with the sheer joy of it. Jedediah, despite his initial enthusiasm, finds himself gravitating back to the vanilla bean and the chocolate. Octavius, surprisingly, is torn between the pineapple and the sophisticated pistachio.
“This is harder than I thought,” Jedediah admits, wiping a smudge of frosting from his cheek. “They’re all so good. How do we choose just one?”
Octavius nods, his brow furrowed in concentration. “Indeed. A truly monumental decision. Perhaps… a combination?” He looks at Jedediah, a mischievous glint in his emerald eyes. “A two-tiered cake, perhaps? One layer of pistachio, one layer of vanilla bean?”
Jedediah’s face lights up. “Octy, you’re a genius! Best of both worlds. And then we can have both of our favorites.”
He leans in, giving Octavius a quick, sweet kiss on the nose, leaving a tiny smear of pineapple frosting. Octavius laughs, dabbing at his nose with a miniature napkin. “A practical solution, my love. And one that ensures both our palates are satisfied.” He looks around the vast kitchen, the human activity a distant hum.
“We should make our exit. We have enough data for a definitive decision.”
They retrace their steps, the sweet taste of cake lingering on their tongues. As they make their way back to their diorama, the museum feels less imposing, more like a familiar friend. The thought of their wedding, now just 117 days away, fills Jedediah with a warmth that rivals the May sun. He glances at Octavius, walking beside him, his hand brushing his. Octavius catches his eye, a soft, knowing smile on his face.
Back in the safety of their miniature home, Octavius collapses onto their tiny sofa, tired but content. The lingering scent of lilac and lavender mingles with the faint sweetness of cake. Jed, on the other hand, lights the fireplace and grabs his guitar from its stand. He begins to strum, adding today’s adventure into the lyrics for the latest song he’s writing. His voice is lower than usual, and the emperor gazes at him as though in a trance. Even with simple lyrics about pistachio and vanilla bean, Octy is captivated. Once the lyrics are added, the cowboy sets his guitar down and slides onto the couch beside his love.
Octavius rests his head on Jedediah’s shoulder. “Your voice always pulls me into its very orbital path,” he declares softly.
The cowboy winks, “Just tryin’ to keep my emperor in line.”
Octy playfully swats at him, then turns his head. His emerald eyes, still captivating, meeting Jedediah’s. “Happy birthday, Lewis. May all your days be as sweet as this.”
Jedediah smiles, pulling Octavius into a tight embrace. “With you, Clark, every day is.”