Dear Jedediah,

For over five decades, I hated you. I loathed your very being, and everything you represented, for fifty years. And then Larry came, and forced us to work together to help save the museum. And then we became friends. Best friends.

It's been a few years since then, but we're being sent to the Smithsonian Archives in a few days, and I wanted to tell you how I feel. How I feel about you, and your hypnotic blue eyes, and your plump lips that I can't help but stare at.

I fell in love with you almost instantly after becoming your friend - after you told me you were not going to 'quit' me, I felt a surge of emotion in my chest, and butterflies fluttered in my stomach, and I was in love, though I didn't know it just then.

And then we almost died. Waking up in the smoking car, next to you, while you were still unconscious was one of the most frightening things I'd ever been through, and when you finally regained consciousness, I was flooded with relief. To know you were alive, to see you breathing, to glimpse into your blue orbs - I felt safe.

Your eyes are truly hypnotic - the gorgeous blues, a literal ocean of colour, are like a window, and I swear sometimes I can read your mind, just looking into them.

I'm not sure if I want you to actually read this letter - if it's just a way for me to get my feelings out into the open. But if you do read this, don't think I expect anything to change between us.

I love you, that much I can admit, but I love you enough to just be friends with you, because I care about you, and it would hurt too much to not ever speak to you.

Yours sincerely,

Octavius.