This choice: Kevin makes his Mom some breakfast • Go Back...Chapter #5breakfast time by: kranz   The first rays of dawn crept through Kevin's window, painting stripes of pale gold across his duvet. He stirred, a smile already forming on his lips as he remembered the incredible events of the night. His eyes fluttered open, and the first thing he saw was his miniature mother nestled carefully in the palm of his hand.
Jamee was still asleep, her tiny form curled into a fetal position. Kevin gazed at her, a wave of affection washing over him. Even this small, she was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. Her eyelashes were delicate dark crescents against her pale cheek, and her lips were slightly parted in a peaceful slumber. A strange, unfamiliar warmth bloomed in his chest as he looked at her. The thought that she was so small, so utterly dependent on him, sparked a protective instinct within him, intertwined with a burgeoning, confusing admiration.
Carefully, so as not to wake her, Kevin sat up. He cradled Jamee in one hand, his thumb gently stroking her back. "Good morning, Mom," he whispered, though she couldn't hear him. "I'm going to make you the best breakfast ever."
He placed her gently on his bedside table, ensuring she was nestled amongst the soft folds of his discarded t-shirt. Then, with a newfound sense of purpose, he tiptoed out of his room and headed towards the kitchen.
His usual chaotic approach to making cereal was replaced by a meticulous care. He selected the smallest bowl he could find, a ramekin usually reserved for dips. He poured a tiny amount of milk, just enough to fill the bottom. For Jamee's portion of cereal, he carefully chose the smallest, most delicate flakes. He imagined her tiny hands trying to grasp the larger pieces and smiled.
While the cereal soaked, he considered what else his miniature mother might like. Toast seemed too large, too unwieldy. He spotted a jar of honey and a box of blueberries. Perfect! He could mash a few blueberries into a sweet, easily manageable pulp.
Back in his room, Jamee was beginning to stir. She blinked, her eyes widening as she took in the colossal surroundings. The fibers of the t-shirt beneath her felt like thick ropes, the wooden surface of the table like a vast, unyielding plain. Then, she saw him. Kevin's face, huge and benevolent, peered down at her.
"Good morning, Mom," he said softly, his voice a gentle rumble. He carefully scooped her up in his palm.
Jamee felt a strange sensation as his large fingers enveloped her. It was a mix of fear and an odd sense of security. This gigantic being was her son, yet his sheer size and the tenderness in his eyes evoked something… different. She couldn't deny a flicker of fascination as she looked at the immense scale of him, the subtle movements of his muscles beneath his skin.
Kevin carried her carefully to the kitchen. He placed the tiny bowl of softened cereal and the mashed blueberries on the table. Next to them, he positioned a droplet of water from the tap.
"Breakfast is served, my beautiful little Mom," he announced proudly.
Jamee stared at the minuscule portions, a wave of emotion washing over her. This giant, this powerful being, was her son, caring for her with such gentleness. It was surreal, terrifying, and… strangely touching. She felt a pull, an undeniable fascination with this immense figure who was once her small child. His protectiveness, his unexpected tenderness, stirred something within her, a confusing mix of maternal affection and a nascent, almost forbidden curiosity about the sheer physicality of him.
Kevin watched her with eager anticipation. He longed to see her eat, to know that he was taking care of her properly. He thought she looked even more beautiful this morning, her tiny face illuminated by the soft light. The secret, almost shameful thought resurfaced: if things were different, if she wasn't his mother… she would be the most captivating woman in the world.
Jamee carefully approached the tiny bowl of cereal. It looked like a vast ocean of milky flakes. She reached out a tentative hand, the size of a grain of rice, and picked up a softened piece. It tasted sweet and familiar. She looked up at Kevin, a small smile gracing her lips.
"Thank you, sweetie," she said, her voice a faint whisper in the vastness of the kitchen. "This is… perfect."
Kevin's heart swelled at her words and her smile. He watched her eat, utterly captivated by her miniature form. The strange, secret feeling intensified. This was his mother, his tiny, beautiful mother, and in this bizarre new reality, their relationship was shifting, becoming something… more complex, more intriguing than either of them could have ever imagined.   indicates the next chapter needs to be written. |
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