The house was quiet, sunlight spilling in through the stained-glass windows in fractured rainbows. The clock on the wall said 12:03 p.m., and Dandy blinked himself awake. Petals a little ruffled from sleep, the rainbow-colored flower sat up, yawning as his pale green limbs stretched. The other side of the bed was empty, still faintly warm.

“Dyle?” he called softly, though he already knew where the clock-headed gentleman would be. Padding on bare, soft feet, Dandy shuffled into the kitchen.

There he was—Dyle. Even at midday he looked impeccable, the dark-blue suit pressed perfectly over his crisp white shirt, rainbow tie knotted neatly, vertically striped rainbow pants catching the light. His moustache-shaped clock hands glittered now, dusted with a faint sparkle that made his dark blue eyeshadow seem deeper. Seven rainbow tick marks circled his golden face, each pulsing faintly like a heartbeat as he sipped coffee from a heavy mug.

For a moment Dandy just watched. His wide grin softened into something warmer as he saw the way Dyle’s shoulders eased under the slow ritual of morning coffee. The flower drifted forward without a sound and slipped his green arms around his husband’s waist from behind, pressing his cheek against the cool metal of the pocket-watch head.

Dyle let out a quiet tick, then a hum, leaning back into the embrace without even turning. “You’re up late,” his voice tick-tocked, gentle and amused.

Dandy giggled, his blush stickers crinkling at the corners. “You’re up early. Didn’t want to wake me?”

“I like watching the minutes go by while you sleep.” Dyle’s clock hands quivered slightly—his version of a smile. “Besides, someone has to make sure the day starts on time.”

The flower swayed them both gently, his rainbow petals brushing against Dyle’s rainbow tie in a mirror of color. “And someone has to keep you from getting lonely,” he murmured.

The ticking softened. Dyle reached one gloved hand up, fingers brushing Dandy’s pale green arm. “You’re good at that,” he said simply.