Best posts made by littlest-lily

Chapter 42
Evie

Of course it was password protected.

I splash water on my face, even though I think I’ve gotten almost all of the dirt off at this point. The ash was a little more difficult to scrub away, but after working at it for twenty minutes in the bath, slowly turning the water a soapy gray, I think I’m as clean as I’m going to get. I rinse myself off with the water bucket I’d set aside and grab a towel to dry off.

As I start getting dressed again, I look upwards to the vented ceiling, trying to make out what I can of Aiden through the criss-crossing plastic strips. He had brought his laptop over for us to investigate the flash drive, and once we discovered the impasse and futilely made a few attempts at breaching it, I figured I’d clean myself up while he kept trying. I took a little longer than I meant to, partly from the scrubbing but also just from the sheer exhaustion after I’d exerted myself so much at the lab. Compared to my aching muscles, I barely even notice the soreness in my ribs now.

Once I’m clothed, I come back out, noticing my friend has also taken the opportunity to clean the dirt off his face. I clear my throat and ask with very little hope in my voice, “Any luck?”

With one defeated shake of his house-sized head, he sighs, “Sorry. I’ve been trying to Google ways around it, but nothing’s working. I’m no hacker…” Finally giving up, he slips the flash drive out of the USB port and holds it up. “Maybe someone else could do it, though, if we reported this.”

“Oh, right, let’s go tell the cops we stole evidence from a crime scene,” I say sarcastically.

“I can easily tell them it was in the bag I grabbed on the way out,” Aiden insists, “I’m just saying.”

With a small, sad smile I lower my gaze. What he doesn’t realize is that I’ve already accepted my reality. This was my last ditch attempt. One final, desperate push to get myself out of this situation, just so that I can know I did everything I could without resorting to the impossible. It may not have amounted to anything. But it’s the closure that I needed.

“Thank you for trying, Aiden. Let’s… let’s talk logistics,” I say, and I start feeling an increasing fear as I try to face this dreaded topic head on. “H-how much longer are you willing to let me stay?”

He frowns at the intensity in my voice and pivots his chair to face me, giving me his full attention. “There’s no time limit,” he says evenly, “I’m just concerned for you. I’m not sure what will happen if we wait for so long.”

I shake my head. “Don’t worry about that for a minute. Remind me, how much school do you have left?”

He raises his eyebrows, finally realizing just how long term I’m insinuating here. “Uh, if all goes well… another three semesters. About a year and a half.”

“And you’d truly be okay with me staying that entire time?”

Aiden hesitates this time, and I wait with bated breath. I don’t blame him for faltering, but finally he answers plainly and confidently. “Yes.”

I mentally try to do some math to figure out how long I’ve been living here so far. It started in early February, we’re mostly through May… We’re coming up on four months. Maybe another few months of me avoiding everything wouldn’t be too much to ask?

“Give me until the end of the year?” I say tentatively, “And then we can have this conversation again?”

The giant’s intensity matches mine as he stares me down. “You’re absolutely sure? You’re okay staying small for that long?”

“Y-yes. As long as it’s okay with you. I just… still don’t feel ready for the world to find out about me. Especially with no guarantees that this can even be fixed.”

He doesn’t understand that I don’t have much of a choice in this. It’s not that I want to stay little. It’s that some things are worse. But I can’t go too far in that direction, so I choose a different one, one that I hope might lighten the mood.

“Besides,” I say with a teasing smile, “You like me better this way anyway, right?”

Aiden doesn’t laugh. His intensity doesn’t diminish. He just keeps staring at me with a creased brow and his staggering hazel gaze. I wonder if he even registered what I said.

“I mean… right?” I repeat, a bit more meekly this time, trying to maintain my smile to show him I’m just poking fun.

He breaks eye contact and turns his head to stare out the window. There are clearly a thousand thoughts passing through his brain and my anxiety builds at the sight. He clenches his jaw and his voice comes out a little tight. “If we’re talking that long, then I… I don’t know if I can keep…”

My fear goes into a crescendo at those words. Is he about to take back what he said about letting me stay? Is he actually thinking things through now? Did I just shoot myself in the foot by bringing it up?

His voice is still strained as he finally says something else. “Listen… I’m only saying this because of the potentially non-zero chance that the feeling’s mutual, but…” Aiden turns towards me again and I’m taken by surprise at the way his expression has changed. He’s not quite frowning anymore, if anything he looks… scared? “Evie, in case it wasn’t incredibly obvious by now, I’m… I’m interested… in you. I care about you… a lot.”

Oh.

A different kind of nervousness settles in instead. The kind that feels like butterflies.

He continues talking as I stand there in stunned silence. “I kept wondering if I should say something, I’ve had so many ideas on how I could make a move, but I decided to hold back and hide this because I didn’t want to make it weird or put you in a shitty position. But whether I wanted it or not, a lot has changed recently, and then yesterday happened, and I don’t think I can try to hide it anymore…” He pauses and swallows as if combatting dry mouth. “If the answer’s no, that’s completely fine and I won’t bring it up again. I’m totally happy just being friends and you still living here, unless you want somewhere else. No pressure, really, I–”

“Aiden?” My small voice is enough to stop him in his tracks. Fully aware of how much I’m blushing right now, I stutter, “Th-the feeling’s mutual. The interest is… mutual.”

After a moment of processing, his expression shifts again. Like clouds clearing out to let the sun shine, he inhales into a wide, uninhibited smile. I can see the explosion of relief and joy bursting behind his eyes. “Are you sure?” he asks, trying to rein himself in, “You’re not feeling pressured or anything?”

“N-no.”

This part’s a lie. But it’s just a white lie, since the rest of it is so, so honest. I don’t care what happened 24 hours ago. I don’t care what happened six years ago. All I care about right now is this man towering before me. I care about him so incredibly much.

“I’m sure,” I add with a nod, “Well, I’m not really sure exactly how I feel, I don’t want to rush into anything but… um… how about…”

I trail off, biting my lip as I stare at the ground for a second. Then I sheepishly look up at him again, keeping my head level as my eyes aim up.

“W-what ideas did you have in mind, exactly? On making a… a move?”

There’s a moment of silence as Aiden regards me in a new light. His smile is gentle and his pupils are expanding as he lets himself show whatever tender emotions he had been too afraid of revealing in the past. The look in his eyes is making me melt.

Slowly, he begins lowering his head in front of me, pushing his chair back and bending down so that he can get closer. I feel my insides squirm at the sight of something so massive coming my way, but I make sure not to take a step back, staying rooted to the spot.

His face is twenty feet away now, which in reality is only a few inches. I’m just below his eye level, struggling to take all of him in. The giant’s hand approaches me from the side, makes contact, ring finger pushing a strand of hair behind my shoulder.

“Can I try something?” he murmurs as he looks me in the eye, “You can stop me at any point.”

I keep my mouth firmly shut, though my breath is shallow through my nose and my pulse quickens. Feeling flush, all I can do is nod.

Aiden moves even closer. His hand tilts to rest just behind me, the side of it leaning on the table, and he puts one finger against my shoulder blades. “Hold still,” he whispers.

I don’t think I can quite do that - there’s a subtle, uncontrollable trembling in my body. But I do stay as motionless as possible, and as he comes ever closer he raises his face and now it’s his mouth that’s approaching and I squeeze my eyes shut.

I feel it on my cheek first, the soft skin of his lower lip. Then the pressure takes up more and more space, pressing up against the side of my head, my neck, the top of my shoulder. Aiden’s too close to see what he’s doing, and that must be why he has his hand on me, to help himself aim as he gives the side of my tiny face a gentle kiss. I’m so small that to him it must be like kissing the tip of a finger. He’s holding his breath and manages not to knock me over, keeping it brief and tender and warm.

I had no idea I could still feel anything so wonderful at this size.

He pulls away again and my eyes blink back open, immediately looking for his in the aftermath. He’s blushing, clearly reeling as well from the intimacy, sporting a nervous smile. I almost giggle, then almost tear up, then I just look down and try to take a deep breath.

Feeling like I’m the one who needs to say something, I manage a weak, “Okay, w-well, um…” I suddenly reach up to my face and push a few strands of hair back behind my other shoulder, exposing the untouched side of my neck. “You have to even it out now, right?” I say shyly.

Aiden beams and his breath of laughter is close enough that it tickles my skin. His hand shifts against my back to the other side now so that he can lean in once more.

I keep my eyes open this time. I see the flash of white of his teeth from his smile before the lips close and come to meet me. I can make sense of it now, the way the lower lip presses against my neck and shoulder and the upper lip brushes against the top and side of my head. I make out the way he uses his hand to touch both me and his own face to get a better sense of where I’m standing. I take in the soft pink of the skin that’s up against my cheek.

There’s still so much of his mouth that doesn’t make contact with me, and I just want to run a hand down the length of his lips, or along the tiny bumps of stubble on his chin, or against the tip of his nose just above me. I want to press myself against him in return. Maybe even turn my face towards his mouth and try to make this an actual kiss. But I’m too taken aback to do anything but soak in this amazing new sensation of a warm embrace with a person many, many times my size.

Even though I’ve just been standing in one spot on the desk, I feel out of breath when he pulls back a second time. I swear my entire body is blushing from the intensity of what just happened. And this time I’m the one beaming up at him.

"Th-thank you,” I say awkwardly with a laugh.

Aiden laughs too, and he slides his whole arm onto the table now, surrounding me with it until I’m corralled near the crook of his elbow.

"You’re so adorable,” he mumbles, and he still stays incredibly close to me, leaning further down to rest forehead against forearm, dimming the lights as he creates a half cave all around me. He lets his eyes shut, so close that the breath coming out of his nose warms my feet and his eyelashes brush against my stomach. “And so, so welcome,” he whispers.

Struggling against my overwhelm, I finally do a little something of my own. I put a hand up to his forehead, and then I lean in to kiss the space between his eyebrows. I try to channel all of my gratitude and joy and affection for him as I press my lips to his skin. It’s not much. But I’ve been wanting to do it for a long time.

It’s happening. We’re doing this. I didn’t know how on earth we’d ever be able to figure it out, how we might physically be together, but he’s gently guiding me through the possibilities in a way that leaves me desperate for more. It might be a lot for me to handle, especially after what happened just yesterday. There’s just so much of him. But right now… that doesn’t seem like such a bad thing.

I guess his enjoyment of my size is a double edged sword. It’s made my predicament less of an obstacle and more of a bonus, at least for him. I mean, I’m sure my stature is not all there is to this. I’ve been able to develop feelings for him without any kind of size-related kink. Our friendship’s been real. I’m sure it has been.

At least… I hope it has been.

As I stand there, now pressing my forehead against the giant that I’ve undoubtedly fallen for, the worries start flooding back in.

What if this doesn’t work out? What if he realizes how hard it is to be with someone like me? Realizes that the fantasy works out much better in his mind than it does in reality? What if he loses interest and I’m ultimately left heartbroken and homeless?

Or what if it goes the other way… What if leaning into this makes it so that he really does only end up seeing me as an object of his lust? What if the only reason I have a place to stay is because he likes having a tiny girl as a pet? What if me being with him is no longer a choice I’m making because I’m interested in him… but a choice I’m making to survive?

Stop it, I think to myself. Please, brain. For once in my goddamn life… just let me enjoy this. Let me be happy.

Soon enough Aiden and I pull apart, all smiles and giggles, and from there we swiftly decide we should relax for the evening and start watching our next show. He offers to make the popcorn, I ask if I can join him in the kitchen, and he lays his hand flat beside me with the biggest, happiest smile I’ve ever seen him wear.

As I step onto the palm of the most important person in the world to me, I don’t look back. I gather all of my worries, and I shove them deep, deep underground.

~ End of Part 2: Down to Earth~

@i-am-insane But see, while M/fff seems to be the standard, I have no interest in giantess, so what I’m talking about is MMM/f 🤭

---

Evening arrived swiftly a few hours later, and Blue found herself deep in thought as she perched on the armrest of the living room couch. Her legs dangled over the edge, feet kicking rhythmically as she gazed down at the distant carpet. Meanwhile Rob was on the other side of the room, busy looking through his DVD collection. Once he picked something out for the evening, he came to join his little pet at the couch and noticed the glazed-over look on her face.

“Why so blue, Blue?” he asked, chuckling at his own terrible pun as he sat down beside her.

The tiny woman seemed to snap out of it and quickly got to her feet. She attempted to smile but it was feeble, and then in a moment of tenderness she padded her way down the armrest to reach her master’s upper arm. She hugged herself around him, as far around as she could reach, closing her eyes as she held the embrace. She so deeply appreciated the connection that they shared, and she never wanted to take it for granted again. Rob had just picked up the remote so he could pull up the movie, but now he could sense something was truly amiss with Blue’s demeanor. He quietly set the remote back down and instead put his hand against her back, carefully hugging her in return.

“I can’t stop thinking about that playdate,” she finally admitted, “I loved meeting the other girls, I’d really like to do that again. But I’m really, really bothered by the way Dave was treating Lucky.”

Rob started stroking her back and nodded consolingly. “Yeah, actually Jim and I started texting about it almost immediately afterwards. That guy was a total asshole in every way. Even with us he was just being an arrogant prick the entire time, but the way he treated his pet was next level. I really felt for the poor thing.”

Blue opened her eyes again, keeping her cheek pressed against her owner. “I wish we could do something,” she lamented.

“I don’t think there’s anything we can do, sweetie. She’s his property. Since this is all underground, there’s no, like, animal services I can call to report it.”

“Well, if the law’s not involved, then… we could always kidnap her.”

Rob laughed at this. “Always the little troublemaker,” he said, playfully flicking at her hair. “Not sure how exactly I’d accomplish that. I don’t want a second pet anyway, Blue, I’m more than happy with just us.”

“But she doesn’t belong with him, Rob!”

In a rather uncharacteristic gesture, she jerked away from him and took a step back so she could look up into the much larger man’s eyes. There was a fire in her amber gaze, fierce and determined. One that was new. Since she had started her new life, Blue had never needed to think of anything outside of herself and her master. But now here she was, seeking justice for a fellow shrunken companion who was in far greater need than she was. The passion came to her as naturally as first discovering how to breathe.

Rob looked her up and down, a bit taken aback. He found his voice again, “Trust me, Blue, I agree with you. I don’t think any woman belongs with him, big or small. Actually…” He turned, frowning towards the ground for a few moments, gears revolving in his mind. Suddenly he reached to the coffee table to pick up his phone. “You just gave me an idea.”

Blue tilted her head curiously at her giant as he tapped at the screen. She was even more confused and intrigued when he lifted the phone to his ear and it became clear he was making a call. After a couple of rings, there was a muffled “Hello?” from the speaker.

“Hey Dave, it’s Rob. I just wanted to let you know, I think my girl accidentally stole one of Lucky’s accessories. She has a bracelet or anklet or something that’s not ours.”

With a gasp, Blue began panicking, gesticulating her hands wildly in an effort to stop whatever was happening. There was no way Lucky wouldn’t get punished over something like that. Rob held up a finger to try and reassure his little pet that she just needed to wait a moment, and she barely managed obedience in keeping quiet. He was otherwise focused on the conversation with Dave, who was clearly grumbling loudly on the other end.

“Listen, man, just hearing you say that,” Rob said evenly, “I’m starting to wonder if you were right today. Maybe she’s more trouble than she’s worth.”

Pause. Horrified, Blue held her breath.

“I dunno, maybe you two just don’t belong together. Nothing wrong with that.”

Another pause, coupled with a disgusted frown as he repressed a sigh.

“No, not in the woods. I’m sure someone else wouldn’t mind taking her in. You could probably even get your money back.”

Blue was swiftly calming down now, eyes widening as she realized where this was going. She broke into an adoring smile and formed a tiny heart symbol with her hands as she gazed at her master gratefully. Rob smiled right back as he continued.

“Okay well, in the meantime… Work’s about to get busy for me,” he lied, “Blue could use some extra company if you’d be open to a bit of a… fostering situation?”

---

The house was quiet. The bedroom had new furnishings. Extra water bowls were scattered throughout the downstairs. Things were strangely reminiscent of three months ago, when Rob had first brought his spirited new pet home. And yet the circumstances now were very different.

Blue stood on the floor, wringing her hands in anticipation as she watched a pet carrier, which to her was the size of a house, being gently set down in the entryway. She couldn’t see inside the plastic case - this one didn’t even have any one-way windows. She could only imagine what it might be like inside.

Rob kneeled down in front of the carrier, fiddling with the lock for a moment before slowly drawing the door open. He smiled at the interior and spoke softly. “Come on out, sweetheart, it’s alright.”

The figure who appeared made every semblance of formality. She had just finished smoothing out her scarlet hair and meager clothing. She tried to keep her head lifted as she took hesitant steps. But she couldn’t fully mask the trembling in her limbs and the darting of her eyes. Lucky was looking nothing short of terrified of the new environment.

Rob let her take a quick look around the kitchen and get her bearings before he addressed her again. “With any luck, you’ll only be here for a couple of days. Jim’s already looking for a better fit for you in his contacts. In the meantime, just a few ground rules, okay?”

The miniature woman nodded and, now that she had cleared the carrier entrance, she descended onto her knees and linked her arms behind her as she faced Rob, keeping her head lowered. He frowned and almost told her he’d rather she not bow, but he stopped himself and thought better of it. Giving the poor girl extra orders was not what she needed right now. He figured the most he could do for the little thing was use a warm and quiet tone.

“Stay away from closed doors and from the stairs - that’s to make sure you don’t get hurt. Try not to make a mess, but if you do, let me know. And always come if I call for you. Think you can do all that?”

“Of course, Master Robert," Lucky said, barely suppressing the waver in her voice.

Now realizing that what she probably needed most of all was some space, Rob carefully got to his feet again. “I’ll let Blue talk you through the rest. I’ll be in the living room if either of you need something."

“Thank you, Master Robert."

And with that the towering man took his leave. In normal daily life Blue hardly ever paid attention to the vibration of his magnified footsteps, aside from her getting excited at his approach. But she noticed Lucky flinching slightly with every thundering step. There was a lot of work to be done.

“Hi,” she said meekly, making her way to the taller woman. “It’s good to see you again!”

Lucky didn’t budge until her temporary owner was well out of sight, and even then she seemed too afraid to speak or look up. She also didn’t seem to know how to handle the situation - Blue might as well be her keeper too, a second in command.

“You as well, um… Miss– er…”

“None of that. Just Blue.”

Lucky finally glanced up at the dark haired beauty, her eyes brimming with tears but not quite overflowing. Blue’s heart clenched at the sight, and all she wanted to do was throw her arms around her and comfort her for the entire evening. But she kept herself in check, instead just smiling and reaching one hand out - not to touch but just to beckon.

“Can you come with me?” she offered gently.

The two diminutive women started slowly making their way through the downstairs as Blue tried to lighten things up by giving a quick tour of the place. Pausing in doorways, they wandered from the kitchen to the main hall, past the office and finally reaching the bedroom.

“Here, I’ll show you where we sleep," Blue said as she skittered towards the towering bed, at the foot of which sat her mansion-sized glass tank. “We’ve already got all your stuff set up. It’ll be fun, like a sleepover!"

Lucky followed obediently, able to take slower, more hesitant steps while still keeping pace. Some of her trembling had abated, and she was even able to summon a wisp of a smile when Blue looked at her with enthusiasm. She continued to remain silent, though.

They reached the edge of the tank, and Blue reflexively reached for Lucky’s hand without thinking in her excitement. She caught herself before making contact, but the tiny giantess had already recoiled, taking a step back before a look of embarrassment coupled onto her fear. She immediately dropped to her knees and bowed her head apologetically.

Blue took a deep breath and bit her lip. "Are you scared of me too?” she asked softly.

Lucky’s bright green eyes shone as she lifted her head up. “No, I… I’m sorry.” She took a deep breath before her gaze dropped again. “It’s just that being touched is usually not a… pleasant thing for me.”

Hearing it said so plainly wrenched at Blue’s heart. “Don’t be sorry, it’s not your fault!” she started with a hair too much passion before she paused. Then with a more subdued smile and tone of voice she reached her hand out again, leaving a generous gap between her and the taller woman. “How about you touch me instead?”

It took Lucky a good half minute to summon her resolve as she looked between Blue’s eyes and hand. But then, with what looked like a herculean effort, she slowly extended her arm until her fingers finally reached their destination, wrapping around as if she was gently taking a child’s hand.

Blue sighed with relief, keeping her eyes on Lucky even as she enjoyed the warmth they were sharing. Ever since the shrinking process, any time that she touched someone else, she would feel a much deeper connection than she had at her previous size, and it manifested as an internal heat. When she first met Rob, he felt like the summer sun, both overwhelming and wonderful, and over time that evolved until now his touch felt like a pleasant spring day or a cozy campfire. When she touched Peanut it had felt like a sparkler, bright and bold and crackling with energy. But this flame, in contrast, was so small. It was like a candle, delicate and soft, but it still felt so warm… so precious.

Lucky seemed very unaccustomed to this kind of connection. She reacted with a shaky gasp of surprise as she grappled with this integral part of herself that she had never really gotten to experience before. The moment wasn’t enough to thaw the frozen layer of armor around her heart. But it was something.

Blue gave her fingers the smallest squeeze. "Not so bad, right?” she said, “You’re safe here, I’m going to look out for you. And Rob’s never going to hit you or anything, okay? No matter how much you misbehave.”

Lucky nodded and her smile returned, a tad more genuine this time. Blue took this as an encouraging sign and started to tug on her friend’s arm to coax her to stand again. "Follow me. I want to show you something.”

Once again, the littlest of them walked ahead, leading them both all the way back through the house to the living room. Rob was sitting on the couch playing a video game, briefly glancing over as the two tiny women entered his line of sight but otherwise leaving them be. His loyal companion scampered up to where one of his socked feet lay on the carpet.

"You need to learn to touch someone bigger than you too,” Blue told Lucky, “Come here, it’s safe!”

Rob smiled without looking away from the screen. As much as the men had openly discussed their pets during the playdate, with the tables turned Blue was just as capable of talking as if he couldn’t hear her. He found it both amusing and adorable.

Lucky appeared to be struggling all over again. Reaching out and touching a woman who appeared about three feet tall to her was one thing. Willingly putting her hands on this monolith of a man was something else. She looked up at him helplessly, and although she seemed mildly relieved by the fact that he wasn’t staring back, she didn’t budge.

Blue insisted, leaning against the massive nearby ankle as she beckoned with an intent look in her eye. “It’s alright,” she said. “He’s literally never kicked me.”

Rob’s smile faded as he heard this. He was starting to catch on to just how far the abuse in Dave’s house had gotten. He made sure to hold especially still in the hopes it would aid with whatever was going on down at his feet.

It took another five full minutes of gentle reassurances until Lucky finally moved close enough to touch her fingertips to the giant’s leg. Her inhales grew tremulous as she took in the feel of both his skin and the warmth that bloomed inside of her as a result, her eyes growing larger with a dawning understanding.

“Yes, there you go!” Blue celebrated, coaxing a wider smile out of Lucky. “You should feel proud of yourself, that’s huge! Let’s go up, you’ve got this.”

In order to help his little friend get around, Rob had gone to a pet store and bought wooden suspension bridges made of twigs and meant for hamsters, hanging them from key spots like the kitchen table and his nightstand as makeshift ladders. There was one that dangled from the bottom of the couch cushions, and Blue hurried up the rungs with ease. Lucky meekly followed, having a bit more trouble getting good handholds on the thin rungs, but eventually managing to heave herself up onto the couch.

Now overflowing with enthusiasm, Blue had already scurried down the length of the couch and was currently climbing up onto Rob’s lap. She waved Lucky over and called out, "Come on! Getting pet is the best!”

Her master finally said something, unable to keep himself from chuckling. "Don’t throw too much at her all at once, Blue,” he said, pausing his game and stroking her affectionately with one thumb to the back of her head.

"You don’t understand, Rob. We’re made to be touched. There’s no greater joy.” Blue tried again, turning to Lucky, the fire in her eyes burning bright. Despite being the smallest person in the room, she spoke with the most authority. “I want you to know what it can feel like.”

Lucky was looking very unsteady on her feet. She still didn’t dare look Rob in the eye, and in fact her gaze was falling down to the floor. "Is… Is that alright?” she asked shakily, “I don’t want to intrude on…”

"I’m just sharing him for a little bit, okay?” Blue quipped, putting her hands on her hips, “Until you can have your own master.”

Taking the cue from his tiny partner, Rob turned his head towards Lucky and then slowly reached a hand out in her direction, keeping his eyes on her to gauge her mental state. His fingers came into her downcast view, just hovering there for a moment. Each digit was as long as her arm, and she was unable to keep herself from flinching at the sight. But she didn’t back away and she didn’t protest. She looked oddly determined in the wake of Blue’s words, fear slowly giving way to something else - maybe not hope, but at least a small fragment of curiosity.

The looming man approached her as he might a frightened kitten, letting her get accustomed to his presence before gradually moving closer. Lucky kept her wide eyes on his arm as his hand slowly moved behind her, fingertips floating just behind her head. That’s where he tentatively made contact, ring finger softly brushing against her hair. When she still didn’t panic, Rob let another couple of fingers lightly rest against her head and neck, prolonging the touch.

When Lucky felt the warmth this time, her entire demeanor changed. For a moment she looked overwhelmed and shivered from the intensity of it. But then, the longer she stood there with nothing bad happening, the more she processed the sensation instead. And as if it were happening despite herself, each of her muscles started slowly unclenching in turn. The large fingers shifted slightly against her shoulders and she found herself moving along with them, leaning into their slight pressure, until she closed her eyes with a palpable relief. Her shoulders dropped and she sighed with pleasure.

Rob smiled at his success in petting the frightened woman. This was a far more innocent touch than he might use with Blue, but there was a caring nature to it all the same. He looked down at his companion still sitting on his leg, and she was beaming back up at him, overjoyed with the progress being made.

Lucky began arching her spine as Rob’s hand reached her back, and she was shivering and sighing once more. After a few moments her tiny green eyes opened. She lifted her head. And though she still didn’t speak, for the first time she was able to give one of these towering giants an authentically grateful smile.

The foster family spent the rest of the evening on the couch. Lucky had eventually been coaxed over to Rob’s lap until she was sitting on his thigh and leaning against his abdomen, cheek resting on the curve of his stomach. Her eyes were closed and her body was limp, more relaxed than she’d ever been, like cuddling up by a warm fire that was slowly thawing her frozen heart.

Meanwhile Blue had scaled up her owner’s shirt to his shoulder so that she could reach his face. At the end of the day, Rob enjoyed the feeling of his tiniest friend and her big personality more than anything, and though they were frequently chatting about whatever was happening on the screen, he kept having to pause his game due to the occasional snuggle assault on his cheek.

“You’re a good girl, you know that?” he mumbled, returning his pet’s kisses affectionately.

“Damn straight,” Blue giggled with a cheeky grin.

@foreverlurk Oh for sure, I’d imagine it would be more of a fantasy for us SW than for the giants lol. Similar to how I’m not really into the tiny lady harem thing - or how I would imagine that the ones interested in FF/m are mostly men. I know I wouldn’t want to share the attention either

And I swear, I could probably read an entire story that consists of only dialogue haha. (Someone make a M/f radio play!)

Chapter 4

I fall to all fours, gasping, my hoodie bunching up around me as it barely seems to want to hold on to my frame. I’m swaying in the afterglow, sighing with a wonderful relief, even though I know intrinsically that whatever ordeal I’m going through is far from over. I’m no longer shrinking but I’m still so… so short. Not to mention the numbing effects of the induced calm - and even a persisting twinge of arousal - are still dominating my mind.

I look up at Ryder from my position down on my knees. My head doesn’t even quite come up to his own knee. He looks better suited to be a basketball player than a swimmer.

And I love it.

“Looks like someone needs a little breather," he chuckles, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his legs as he smiles down at me. “You look so adorable like that… Any guesses to how short you’ve gotten?”

I smile as if I’ve had a bit too much to drink and shake my head.

“You’re just under three feet tall. Isn’t that something? Mark my words, you won’t ever need to feel too tall around me." He tilts his head, beaming. "Are you enjoying this, Isabelle?”

I answer without pause. “Absolutely.”

“Me too. I look forward to spending more time together. Though I’ll let you catch your breath first."

I sigh and shudder, struggling against my clothing as I push myself up so that I can sit on my heels. I gaze at Ryder’s legs just ahead, parked on either side of me, my eyes trailing up the length of his toned, magnificent body. I notice a subtle bulge between his legs, the way his biceps flex, his tongue hungrily brushing past his upper lip, all in quick succession. He’s intimidatingly tall, but I still want him so much…

As my breathing slowly levels out, he looks down his nose at me, like an emperor observing a subject from his throne. “I do love the way you’re looking at me right now…” he muses. “I know what I said earlier, about people vying for my attention. It’s true that I’ve been getting bored about the desperation with which people have been throwing themselves at me. But… I wouldn’t have gotten to this point if I didn’t want it. I like being admired. I want people to look up to me. Way, way up. Even if I’ve gotten pretty picky about who I send down there…”

My breath hitches. I should be scared of him, I know I should feel scared. But instead I feel… special. Like I was chosen for this, whatever this is. Like I should feel honored.

Ryder’s eyes light up with anticipation and suddenly he reaches forward. His hand is as big as a dinner plate, and he settles it right on top of my head.

“Break’s over, sweetheart.”

He pushes down… and down I go. The heat transports me towards the floor as I start shrinking once again under the pressure of his hand. Shorter and shorter, until the furniture looks more like townhouses and my clothes feel more like a tent. Shorter than any person should be as the world gradually doubles in size, and then keeps growing. Ryder’s palm completely dwarfs my head now as I melt under his forceful touch. I glance up, past the looming edge of the bed, up to his increasingly towering figure, and for the first time the word “giant” comes to mind.

“Down, down, down,” he murmurs, “Down where you don’t need to worry about anything anymore…”

The panic that’s deep under the surface is fighting reeeeal hard to come out now. But whatever domination this man has over my mind is stronger. I do little more than squirm as I’m shoved into the darkness of my own sweatshirt, and I can no longer say I’m wearing clothes, I’m just caught up in a tangle of thick fabric.

From outside my prison his muffled voice continues, and it’s also growing in size. “You can just relax now… Just be. Doesn’t sound too bad, right? There’s a price for that though, Isabelle. You just have to give in. Surrender control to me. That’s all it takes for aaall of your worries to melt away…”

The shrinking stops and I’m left stunned as I struggle to hold my own against the heavy cloth. It’s very stuffy and I’m having trouble breathing in here. I try crawling forward, hoping to reach some kind of exit in the darkness. My hands pass over what I realize is my bra strap, as thick as my pant leg would’ve been not so long ago, and I slink over it, feeling around blindly.

There’s light laughter coming from the world outside. “Wrong way, sweetie.”

I yelp as everything shakes. The tent is shifting quickly and before I know it I’m sliding, then rolling, then tumbling as light blinds me and cool air hits me hard.

For a moment, I’m on my back with my dizzied head lolled to the side. I notice the blurry sight of tall, green grass obscuring my view. But as my vision clears, I realize it in an instant. I’m not laying in grass, but on a shaggy rug. Those are carpet strands.

I push myself to sitting as my neck pulls back and my jaw drops at the sight of the room. It’s become as big as a warehouse. I feel like I’ve just been transported to an amusement park of some kind, full of structures both familiar and alien - I can tell that that’s a bed, that’s a chair, that’s a table, but all of them are simply humongous. Under different circumstances I would have loved to run around and explore it all, marvel at the magnified details and what it would have taken to manufacture all of these structures. And that’s the only thing that makes sense at first - that everything around me has been built to be oversized.

But within seconds I know that’s not the truth. Because also in the room is the fifty foot human being just ahead of me. At first he looks like he should be made of stone, until he moves subtly and I process the fact that he’s very much alive. It’s completely mind blowing.

The massive living statue has something familiar in his hands. The colors are familiar at least, but the size of my clothing is not. Ryder sets the pile of fabric to the side, making me jump from the sheer scale of his movements, before he leans back over to look down at me, eyes alight with interest. “There you are. Still as cute as a squirrel. Heh. Is this short enough for you, Isabelle?”

“Holy…” I stutter out, eyes wide as I keep looking around myself, then back at him, in a double, then triple, then quadruple take. “H-how tall did you make me?” I wonder breathlessly.

He seems to hear me just fine despite how high up his head is. “Eight inches. You know what, I don’t even think ‘short’ is the right word anymore. You’re beyond the point of human height, you’re just so… small.”

It’s such a simple word. And yet it’s taken on an entire new meaning for me, becoming an integral part of my identity in an instant. By some magical force, I’ve truly become the size of a doll. I slowly get to my feet, and for what feels like minutes on end I can only stare and stare at my surroundings.

“That’s right,” Ryder says, smile widening, “Take it all in.”

I flinch as vertigo hits - I’m still easily thrown off by every mind manipulation that’s thrown at me. I get double vision for a second, and then I realize I’m seeing another vivid image in my mind’s eye.

I see myself again. Completely naked, hair disheveled, a look of fascination and overwhelm on my face. And I’m way down on the floor, sitting on the familiar grass-colored rug. On the edge of my vision are some everyday objects that have found their way to the ground - a pen, a single sock, an empty water bottle. They all look so enormous compared to me. Not to mention the pair of feet planted on either side of me and making me look like a plastic toy in comparison. Watching myself like this puts things in a whole new perspective.

“Am I seeing what you’re seeing?” I ask faintly as I try to take everything in from both that projected vision as well as through my own eyes.

“Exactly. I just wanted to show you how little you’ve gotten,” the giant says with a nod, making the vision bob with his head movement, and then the picture disappears completely from my mind. “It’s almost funny to see you like this… Careful what you wish for and all that.”

I’m blinking and rubbing at my eyes, still seeing spots. When I drop my arms again I realize they’re shaking. In fact, my whole body is starting to shiver now that I’m nude.

Ryder notices. “Aww, are you cold? Let me help.”

I look up at him, though I’m not sure what I’m expecting. For him to hand me something to cover myself with? To use his crazy abilities to magically make me warm?

Instead, he doesn’t bother moving from his laid-back sitting position on the bed. There’s a small tremor through the floor, and I jump as one of the towering legs ahead of me lifts up into the air. I take a couple of confused steps back but otherwise have no time to react - his foot swings my way and knocks right into me, barreling me over so that I’m crumbling back to the ground. He settles it onto my front, toes resting right onto my chest, easily pinning me to the floor.

This is perhaps a little too much. The sudden weight isn’t quite painful, but I’m very aware that it could be if he wanted to hurt me. It feels like I could get crushed at any second from a twitch of his ankle. I writhe as I look up and up the length of his body, my distant fear growing more intense. I manage to wriggle an arm out from underneath him and start shoving at his toes while kicking at his heel.

“Shhhh,” Ryder soothes, and I can already feel an extra dose of sedative tranquility flowing into me, “Stay calm… Just relax… There you go. Better?”

My muscles melt under his mass, until I start seeing his gigantic foot as more of a weighted blanket. It’s not that bad. And to be fair, despite this position being pretty undignified, his skin does feel nice and warm against mine, and it’s surprisingly soft. If only he wasn’t putting quite so much pressure on my lungs.

Before I run out of air, I choke out the most urgent of my questions in my tranquilized state. “How are you doing this?” I gasp.

He chuckles. “Easy. Lifted my leg up. Set it back down. I’m not even putting any weight on you, not really. Still feels like you’re having trouble breathing though, that little chest is barely budging…”

I had, in fact, run out of breath, but Ryder seems to sense this and eases up on me, so that I’m able to clarify, “No, I mean, how is this all… possible?”

The giant smiles as he doubles over and lowers his head, looming over me. Jesus, his face is as big as a king-sized mattress getting pushed out of a third story window.

“I know what you meant,” he says, “I guess I’ve always been different. The details aren’t important right now. Influencing people’s thoughts and emotions is easy for me. As for the shrinking part, well…”

He curls his toes and I wince as they fondle my breasts in the process. Without my better judgment to guide me, I sigh longingly.

“…that’s special. You and I have a unique bond now, Isabelle. I can influence not only your mind but your body. All it took was a little kiss…”

He puts his fingertip to his lips, and then reaches all the way down to the floor to touch it to my mouth. The pad of his finger takes up over half of my face, and he holds it there for a moment, making it even harder for me to get any air. Weakly I kiss his finger back, and he smiles approvingly. His hand lifts up, hovering a short distance above my head. And he bends his fingers to playfully wave me goodbye.

I’m starting to feel a bit too warm against his skin. But a split second later I know why… The weight of his foot grows even heavier. His toes inch further up my chest. He’s got that signature smile on as he does his magic, previously infuriating but currently entrancing. I don’t want to lose sight of it.

But his giant body has other plans. I’m becoming small enough to get completely eclipsed underneath his foot. I manage one last strained breath as if about to be plunged underwater, and then his increasingly massive toes are sliding over my head. I should be thankful that he’s clean, nothing but the faint scent of chlorine persistently clinging to his skin from all the time at the pool. Still, I feel disgusted, humiliated, anxious and afraid.

And yet I’m not particularly bothered by any of these emotions. Not when it feels so right to be immobilized out of sight like this. To somehow be so lovingly embraced and carelessly dominated, all at once.

I briefly think about the little experience I do have with men. There were some jerks in the mix, but overall I’ve been lucky and was treated with respect and consideration the couple of times things got physical. As much as I appreciate that, though, in the back of my mind I’ve always fantasized about something else. Those fantasies only strengthened when I met Ryder, who always seemed to be the kind of guy to pin you to the wall and throw you on the bed. And now here I am, literally pinned underneath his foot in the darkness. Maybe this is what I wanted all along.

I have no idea how small I am when the shrinking stops. I’ve turned my face to the side to get whatever air I’m able, and I struggle to see in the dimmed light. The fleshy ceiling feels unbearably heavy, and I try to find comfort in the pressure best I can. I wonder how long I’ll have to deal with this. I can hear the giant’s tendons creaking with every minute movement, making me flinch and wince.

I gasp at a magnified voice that vibrates all the way down through the sole of the titanic foot. “Just hang tight down there. I’m almost ready for you, little one.”

I would lay here forever if he asked me to. Not that I have many options at my disposal. I mean, the fact that I’m content here isn’t even a feeling of my choosing… but it’s alright. I don’t mind not having a choice. At least, I don’t think I do.

With one last little push that compresses me into the fibers of the rug, I finally suck in clean air again as the foot lifts up and away. Holy shit, I can actually get a sense of its size now, it’s over fifteen feet long from toe to heel. I gaze at it rising up and up, like a truck-sized UFO that decided not to abduct me after all. Then it moves to land off to the side, and I suddenly take the rest of him in.

I can feel tears gathering up in my eyes for a moment, whether from awe or whatever deeply buried terror is still inside me. Ryder is standing now, shirtless and grinning, absolutely towering overhead. From my perspective on the floor he’s as tall as a ten story building. I feel like I’m looking up at a god, as if Apollo himself is standing over me, toned muscle and tan skin and a stature that takes my breath away.

“I’m sure it’s hard to keep track, so I’ll just tell you,” he booms, “You’re down to four inches now.”

The volume of his voice carries enough authority that I immediately scramble up to attention, clumsily hurrying to my feet. I take a couple of steps back just to try and get a better sense of what I’m looking at. I guess while I was out of sight he had started taking off his clothes, and him lifting his foot up just now is what allowed him to finish slipping off his shorts. He’s left in nothing but his boxers, well on his way to joining me in becoming nude.

There’s a prominent outcrop jutting from within his underwear - his hard-on is big enough to cast a shadow over me all on its own. Ryder takes amusement in this, and he redistributes his weight casually between each leg, causing subtle quaking in the ground as he briefly blocks me from his sight with his own member.

“I imagine that must be quite the view from down there. Is it sinking in how tiny you’re getting?” he asks. Maybe the question was rhetorical, but I’m finding myself nodding feebly, and he nods back. “Good. Then let’s get you off the floor.”

@blehb Hell yeah! Oof being fought over would be its own level of fear/excitement. Meanwhile I keep thinking about two male lovers working together to use me as a toy for their amusement and pleasure. 1v1 when there’s a shrunken party already is unfair, but 2v1 becomes impossible.

Chapter 5

I don’t feel ready for the sight of this colossus’ mighty body collapsing in on itself like an avalanche as he crouches down. His hand is reaching out towards me, as big as the falling ceiling of a room, and I’m taking timid steps back, eyes wide, until I brace myself by covering my face with my arms.

When the expected heavy impact doesn’t happen, I finally peek out from behind my tangled limbs. I spend a moment taking in the titan’s new crouched stance. His knees are jutting out well over my head. His bulging erection within his boxers is way closer now, making me shyly look elsewhere. His bare chest and his head are still so high up. And he’s set his hand down onto the floor beside me, waiting patiently for me to notice it. When I look up high enough for us to lock eyes, he smiles and the nearby index finger ticks upward a couple of times, beckoning me.

“I’ll take it easy on you,” he rumbles, “Plenty of grabbing to come later, I’m sure. Hop on.”

I still hesitate, but not for much longer. I can’t resist him. Obediently I walk over, and then I trip over a carpet strand that’s wound its way around my ankle as I reach him. I tumble right into Ryder’s hand, kicking away the offending green rope as I push myself up to all fours. Honestly, I’ll be glad to get out of this grassy expanse. Especially since being in this gigantic hand, it’s… Wow. It’s so much better. Warm and pliant under the weight of my frame, even though I must feel so light to him. I want to examine every inch of it, but I don’t have time to take much in as the giant immediately stands back up.

I gasp dramatically and curl in on myself as I hurtle upwards. Through a small gap between the fingers that make up part of my floor, I stare at the ground growing distant incredibly fast, and I tremble as I try to keep my balance on hands and knees. The fleshy platform elevators all the way up along the mammoth body, not giving me enough time to appreciate it, until it stops right in front of Ryder’s face. His eyes are so large, the irises like windows to the sky and the pupils as big as baseballs.

“This never gets old,” he murmurs. Even speaking quietly, his voice makes the air quiver like a speaker system.

I take in the details of his face, magnified to a staggering degree. I can make out every individual hair in his eyebrows and eyelashes, I notice the tiniest red speck of a blemish near his temple, and even though he’s clearly recently shaved, I can see the pinpricks of color heralding future stubble on his skin. Without thinking, I shift forward and reach an arm out to touch the tip of his nose.

“Ryder, this is… incredible,” I stammer, and I keep touching his face in awe. Robbed of my inhibitions, my habit of inspecting my surroundings takes over. I use his nose as leverage to stand up, then run my hands across his cheek and upper lip. The giant seems to enjoy this and eventually lifts me a little bit higher, so that I can access his forehead and brow. He closes his eyes for a moment to let out a content sigh, and I waste no time in brushing my fingers against his closed eyelid, marveling at the way it twitches gently at my touch. Then he pulls his hand further away, interrupting my exploration, so that he can better see me. I hold my arms out to catch my balance, managing to stay on my feet in his palm.

His fascination with me has only seemed to grow more. He speaks softly but intently, “I have to know… Have you ever fantasized about being this small, Isabelle?”

“Yes.” I surprise myself with this confession, but then backtrack and try to clarify, “Well, it was never quite like this in my mind. It was more during those horrible moments of getting called out for something and me wanting to vanish. Sometimes I’d imagine myself becoming invisible and sneaking away. But sometimes I would feel so embarrassed and down on myself that I would imagine myself shrinking, so small that no one would pay attention to me any more.”

Ryder’s breath hitches. For the first time since I’ve met him, he seems to lose his composure for a second. He shuts his eyes to regain himself, exhaling deeply and blowing my hair back with his warm, powerful breath.

“I’m sorry,” he says, opening his eyes again. “That’s very sad, but… also really hot.”

I keep my gaze trailed on his. Seeing that moment of his poise slipping is making me curious about him in turn. “What about you?” I ask, “You’ve fantasized about this before?”

“I’ve done this before. Many times,” he says. “It’s been a while, though. Something feels different this time.”

I raise my eyebrows. “Many times? Why? Just for fun?”

“Various reasons. But I mean, come on.”

I cry out as the ground underneath me suddenly shakes, the giant hand quickly moving from side to side to knock me onto my butt. Ryder claws his fingers up and around me, and since I’m sitting down now they’re easily taller than I am.

“Who wouldn’t want this kind of power?” he purrs.

My breath grows shallow as I see the hunger in his eyes. It’s humbling. And it’s exciting.

“Actually… I guess you wouldn’t,” he laughs, lowering me down to chest level so that he can intentionally loom over me. “That’s why you’re down there. And I’m up here.”

My eyes dart over to the edge of the palm I’m sitting in as I notice movement. The index finger of his other hand is sliding over the edge and glides over to me. It makes contact with my foot and slowly starts slithering up my leg. I shudder and take a tremulous breath in.

“Just relax while I get a good look at you. Gotta take in all these little details…”

His middle finger joins, catching up with the first and brushing over my other leg. The fingertips gradually float up the length of my frame, leaving goosebumps in their wake. I moan and struggle to keep it together as I soak in the feeling of getting lightly touched by digits that are as thick as my torso. The muscles in my crotch tighten and I press my legs together reflexively. The fingers reach my shoulders and begin pushing them down, until I have no choice but to let myself lay back in his hand.

Ryder indulges himself by spending a good while exploring my breasts. He circles each one with a fingertip, then his thumb joins in to gently pinch. I groan with pleasure, waiting longingly for the moments when his skin passes over my nipples, stimulating me without him really trying. My eyes dart between his fingers and his face, the concentrated look in his eyes driving me nuts.

“Why am I so turned on by this?” I finally gasp, putting a hand on his thumb but making no effort to push him away. “Are you doing that to my brain too?”

His eyes flick up to mine, hardly bothered by the interruption. “Not quite… It’s like I said before. It’s all right there inside of you. I’m just helping you feel what you want to feel.”

I close my eyes and wince at another prod. “I dunno…” I slur, only half present, "I don’t think sober me would… mmmnhh… would ever want this… It’sss… It’s dangerous. You’re so much biggerrr… You could hurt me by… by accident.”

I’m too enraptured to properly make out which of his fingers is where exactly, but while still being touched all over my torso, I also feel what might be a pinkie start nudging at my crotch. I open my legs in invitation, and even though there’s no part of him that can fit inside me anymore, the pressure of his finger is enough. The wonderful texture of his skin slides against my dripping sex, the ridges of his fingerprint driving me to insanity.

“There’s nothing to worry about,” he soothes, finding a gentle rhythm with his fingertip. “I’ve gotten good at this - you’re safe. And aren’t things so much better without that pesky fear? Although… I will mention that I’ve never had anyone just go to town and start touching me all over like you did. I didn’t make you do that, Isabelle. That’s all you.”

My back arches from a wave of pleasure. I tilt my head back and moan helplessly. I’m hardly listening to what he’s saying but I’m loving the rumbling feeling of his voice.

“Just enjoy this, you horny little thing… Fuck, it’s so easy to get you to this state…”

As if sensing that I’m on the edge, the rubbing speeds up, and after a few moments a blissful bubble overtakes me, ballooning and bursting, and I cry out from another intense orgasm. My entire body tenses as I ride the sensation for several seconds before going limp in the giant’s hand, still moaning, still gasping, my skin on fire. God, I already know I could go again. I never want to stop.

I’m so out of it that I didn’t notice Ryder’s face approaching until it’s right on top of me. He gives the side of my body a tender kiss, and I still feel so sensitive that it’s enough to make me groan again. His lips are so huge. From my perspective he should look monstrous, as if he should be some mythical beast or a massive piece of machinery, and yet I’ve never felt more physically attracted to anyone before.

“There’s more where that came from,” he mutters against my stomach, “Better recover quickly, little one.”

I push myself up to sitting so that I can press myself against his cheek. I’m trying to calm back down, and in an effort to ground myself I start absently touching him again. First I trail my fingers against his chin, taking deep breaths. Then, with a bit more intention, I take a closer look at the hand I’m still sitting in. I hadn’t really gotten the chance to get a good look at it yet. I examine the folds of his palm, pushing against the springy flesh and tracing each line with interest.

Ryder pulls back to watch my investigation, biting his lip in amusement. “See, that’s what I’m talking about,” he says, “I’ve never been with anyone who’s quite so… inquisitive?”

I look up into his eyes. Simply existing under his gaze is humbling. There’s something about being small that feels incredibly vulnerable. Not just in the obvious physical way, but in the way where I feel like I can tell him anything. I blink up at him, hesitant, until finally I squeak out a confession.

“I… I-I… I really like dinosaurs, okay?”

There’s a short pause as the giant’s eyebrows shoot up. “I’m sorry, what?”

“Um… When I was a kid,” I explain, “I wanted to be a paleontologist. I knew everything about prehistoric life and would collect all kinds of fossils. My favorite thing was to bury stuff in the yard and pretend they were dinosaur bones, and later I’d dig them up and wash them off and study every detail. I was just so curious - I loved exploring and discovering and examining things. I was so heartbroken when I found out that a career in paleontology is a bit more complicated than that, but even to this day I’ll go into thrift stores to look around at all the weird stuff and just kinda pretend I’m an archeologist."

Whew. Definitely have never told a guy that before. Like I said… vulnerable.

Ryder’s smile has grown wider and wider during my little monologue. “There it is. I knew you had to have some kind of hobby.”

I wrap my arms around my chest and hang my head. “I know. It’s embarrassing.”

He scoffs, “What are you talking about? Who doesn’t like dinosaurs? You want to talk embarrassing, I like reading poetry.”

I’m about to tell him that I think his hobby is wonderful, but instead I gasp loudly as just then, without so much as a warning, he pinches his fingers around my torso from behind and lifts me into the air. My legs kick reflexively and I cling to his hand, trying not to look down as he dangles me in front of his face. He keeps talking as casually as if we were at a coffee shop.

“I love you wanting to be a little explorer, actually. That’s so freaking cute. In fact…”

I hang on tight as the giant begins to move. He glances around himself and then sits down, reclining back so that he can lay on his bed, and bringing me along for the bumpy ride. I drop even further as he lowers his hand down to his bare abdomen, depositing me right at his center of gravity. Even though he’s not particularly careful about whipping me around, the way Ryder sets me down is much more delicate, easing me into a kneeling position before his fingers release me.

“There you go,” he says, and I can feel more goosebumps forming on my legs from the tickling vibration of his voice running up through them. “Look around to your tiny heart’s content.”

I’ll be honest… I’m still really aroused right now. A part of me is frustrated that I’m no longer being fondled, and that part’s fighting against the side of me that’s inclined to examine and discover. But when I get to my feet and stare out at the expanse of Ryder’s chest, I start to think a happy medium can be found. His skin is shaved smooth and is taught against his muscles. His pecs are like two shallow hills. His abs are as vast as a luxurious hotel room. His head is propped up on a couple of pillows so that he can still watch me, meaning I can enjoy the beauty of his face in the background. This absolute specimen of a man is at my disposal, just as much as I’m at his mercy.

I start taking unsteady steps forward, though I quickly realize that walking is going to be a problem. The simple act of the giant’s breathing makes me lose my balance within seconds, and as he sees me flail my arms when I almost fall over, I now have to contend with his soft laughter jostling me too. I collapse to my knees when I reach his ribs, and I start crawling.

It hasn’t left my attention that I’m completely naked right now. I’m only sort of well endowed, and at this point my breasts are no bigger than blueberries, but my posture seems to be pleasing my massive keeper all the same. In the distance I notice the tip of his tongue protruding from the edge of his smile as he observes me scrambling over his chest.

I pause every so often to pass my fingers over his skin, feeling the slight fuzz of micro hairs that are practically invisible to the human eye. My little limbs occasionally make him sigh or twitch, and every time I trip over myself from one of his movements, Ryder seems to get a kick out of how helpless I am. I’m on one side of his chest when I curiously prod at the darker circle of his nipple, and between his reverberating groan and the fact that his hand briefly raises up into view, I think he’s on the brink of snatching me right back up. I’m not the only one practically drooling over the situation.

Several minutes of my exploration have passed, and I’m up near his collarbone when he finally moans, “Alright. I can’t take this anymore.”

I look up and sit at attention in response to the authority in his booming voice. I wait for an instruction or for a hand to come my way or something, but nothing of the sort happens. I crawl to a more reasonable distance from his face so that I can make eye contact, and he’s just staring at me. After a few moments of staring back in confusion, I take notice of the fact that I’m pretty warm. Thankfully his body heat has been enough to keep me going thus far, but… This is something else. This is a bit more like a sunburn. My head jerks up as I look back at the giant in abrupt realization.

“Yes,” Ryder says softly with a devilish smirk, "I’m shrinking you again. Veeery slowly this time. Until you get to your destination.”

The open-ended nature of this one leaves me nervous. “Wh-wheres that?” I ask.

He chuckles and rolls his eyes. “Take a guess. Where do you think I want you right now?”

I notice the level of lust in those massive sky-blue eyes and from how shallow his breath feels underneath me. It doesn’t take some kind of mind manipulation for me to know exactly where his own mind’s at. Instead of answering verbally, I turn my head to look down the length of his body, to the faraway gray patch of his underwear that I’d avoided up until now.
I can hear the smile in Ryder’s voice as he rumbles, “Better hurry.”

@blehb Seconded! A beautiful elf man would be very much up my alley

In any case would prefer anything that’s not orc/goblin/etc. I feel like so often (mostly talking mainstream stuff here) giants are portrayed as big ugly ogres, which does nothing for me personally.

Part 3: Something in the Air

Chapter 43
Evie

There’s a breeze coming in through the open window. It’s gentle, rolling across the surface of the desk like incoming tide. It ruffles the fur of my plush lion nearby and makes a notepad flutter. The warmth it carries presses against my skin like a blanket, a pleasant pressure on the side of my body. Except I’m in just enough of a precarious balance that it almost knocks me over. I overcompensate, not wanting to slip to the side and tumble eight feet down to a hard surface, and so I fall forward instead and immediately crash against the bridge of my friend’s nose. A nose that’s over half as big as I am.

“You good?”

The soft, deep voice rumbles through me, and the vibration feels intimate enough to make me blush. I push back against skin and try to regain balance on the massive arm that serves as my perch at the moment. “I’m good,” I confirm, putting a hand up to gratefully pat the space between the giant’s eyebrows.

I smile at him, even though he can’t see me right now, as his eyes are firmly shut. Aiden’s currently sitting at his desk chair and is leaned forward so that his chin is resting on top of the table, arms folded in front of his face. I’ve climbed up onto his forearm and am now sitting mere millimeters away from eyes. Any awkwardness around me getting all up in his face like this has largely disappeared - we’ve gotten pretty used to it now.

I have what serves as a large painter’s palette next to me, with a single dark brown color filling the container. One of the many miniatures that came home with me and has sat around uselessly for months is a makeup applicator, and I’m wielding it in my hand right now. As I rub the sponge-like applicator into the makeup, I notice that the huge eye that I’m sitting next to isn’t just gently closed anymore. It’s forcefully squeezing shut.

“Relax,” I say with a laugh, giving the giant another pat, “This’ll be fine.”

Aiden lets out a long, deep sigh that’s muffled by his arms. “How did we even get here?” he laments.

Well, I guess we originally got here almost four months ago, when I first got tricked by a literal mad scientist into becoming three inches tall, and was then rescued by the man who would become my closest friend… and perhaps something more. But as for the makeup, that’s just because Moira gave me some eyeshadow to use. The other day I mentioned to her in passing that I hadn’t put on any makeup since I became tiny, and she immediately found the smallest palette she had for me to play with at home. It was fun, finger painting my eyelids, pretending to be back in a world where that kind of thing mattered to me. But as soon as Aiden came over to see my progress, I was struck by a most devilish idea.

“Okay, hold still,” I say, getting onto my knees as I lean closer to one of the giant’s eyelids, sponge in hand. He goes very stiff and his brow is furrowed with concern. “Seriously, relax!” I laugh and I finally touch the makeup to his skin.

“Nnngh…” I almost fall over again as my friend tries and fails to keep from writhing. “I haaaate it.”

I pull my hand back and ask, “Does it hurt?” The tool I’m using is intended for foundation and isn’t exactly meant for eyelids.

“No…” Aiden grumbles, “It just feels so weird!”

I giggle and return back to my work, sliding the applicator and spreading the brown color just over the lashes. “Aww, poor baby,” I coo sarcastically, “Such torture that I’m putting you through…"

“I may never recover,” he responds dramatically.

I chuckle again, although I’m also trying to get this done quickly so that I can leave him alone. He’s making it very difficult. “You’re so twitchy!”

“What do you–” he scoffs, “You’re literally poking my eye!” But I can hear the amusement in his voice now as he tries to keep from laughing and shaking me again.

I finish thickening the line, opting to just make it look more like eyeliner than anything else, and pull away. “I’m almost done,” I assure him, “Just gotta do the other side.”

He’s quieter this time, sensing the end approaching, and I finish my masterpiece. I climb off of his arms and start taking some steps back to admire my handiwork with a big grin on my face. Sensing that I’m off of him now, Aiden blinks open his large hazel eyes and lifts his head off the desk, looking down at me skeptically.

“You look like a rockstar!” I chirp excitedly.

We had set up one of my old hand mirrors onto the desk so that I could see myself, and the giant bends down now so that he can assess the damage. “Oh okay… that’s not so bad,” he mutters.

“I didn’t put on much,” I say, walking over to look at him through the mirror as well. “And I didn’t touch your waterline. No way you’d be able to handle that if this was already too much for you.”

“I have no idea what a waterline is. But thank you for sparing me.”

I look back up at him and can feel all of the butterflies waking up inside me. They sure like to come out these days and flutter around my chest. “Yeah, you look great. It really helps bring out the green of your eyes.”

I notice the slightest bit of color blooming into his cheeks, and as he sits up to his full height he gives me the warmest smile. “Thanks, Eve. Yours looks really good too!”

"Thank you! I never owned much makeup so I’m no expert. We should get Moira to do a better job on you next time.”

“Uhhh yeah we’ll see about that,” he chuckles, “Okay, can I go wash this off now?”

“What, you don’t want to go out on the town like that?” I laugh. “Wait, before you go, can we take a picture of it? Please? You have no idea how good you look.”

He shakes his head in defeat, but he’s beaming nevertheless. “Only if you’re in the picture too.”

“Deal!”

I run closer to him excitedly as he fetches his phone from his pocket and turns on the front facing camera. He leans his head forward, all the way down so that I can stand just beside it. Well, a little bit in front of it too. I could use all the extra size I can get, even if it’s just from perspective.

“Is this our first selfie?” Aiden wonders after snapping a couple of shots.

“I think so!”

“Could we take some more later, without the makeup? Don’t get me wrong, I love what you did on yourself, but you look so pretty without it too.”

Whatever picture he took just then would be featuring me with widened eyes and a redder face. Lovely. Not embarrassing at all. Even though it’s been a week since we both admitted that we were interested in each other, not all that much has actually changed in most of our interactions. I’m still not quite used to this type of compliment.

“S-sure!” I try to say casually, and then in an effort to change the subject I add between snapshots, “Uhh, are these stored on the cloud or anything?”

“No, I never got around to setting that up… Oh, but I guess that’s a good thing, isn’t it? Don’t worry, I’ll be really careful about keeping pictures of you private.”

I thank him and go back to smiling for the camera. We’ve probably taken almost a dozen photos by now, just to make sure there’s a nice one in the batch. I shift my gaze to look at the display instead of the camera lens, and seeing myself on the phone screen… I can’t help feeling a little sad. I look so ridiculous next to him. Like a tiny action figure. Or just a smudge on his cheek.

After another moment I start stepping forward, wondering if getting even closer to the lens would help. Sure enough, the closer I get to the phone, the less puny I look. In fact… maybe I could…

I see Aiden frown from behind me, his expression reflected on the screen, as he tries to figure out what I’m doing. I’m walking right up to the device, until I stop juuuust in the right position. There we go. My head’s about the same size as his now.

The sight is striking, somehow. Or it would be, if the camera wasn’t currently struggling to figure out what to focus on. I’m so close that it can’t get a clear picture of the both of us - either I’m a blurry shape in the foreground, or then I move and become clear while he fades into obscurity. Even on a screen it’s like we don’t quite belong side by side.

“There.” His booming voice makes me flinch as his thumb suddenly presses the digital shutter button. He pulls up the picture he just took, right as the camera was refocusing, so that we both look equally blurry. He chuckles, “Perfect!”

I laugh too - it’s a little hollow, but not forced. I appreciate him so much.

I get a warning in the form of Aiden’s reflection suddenly growing larger on the phone screen, along with the sense of his sheer mass approaching me from behind, as quiet as a hot air balloon drifting in for a landing. He gently kisses my upper back, a gesture that happens from time to time now - it’s the one significant thing that has changed between us. Since I’m on my feet he hardly puts any pressure at all to avoid knocking me over, relying on me to push back against his lips instead. And I do, leaning into him with a more genuine giggle. He’s definitely succeeding in making me feel better.

We’ve been easing into this connection the two of us share. Not rushing it, letting the relationship bud at its own pace, especially since in retrospect it was a bit of weird timing to admit our feelings the day after he accidentally assaulted me. We haven’t really talked about that night since. For now we just enjoy the occasional lingering touch or extended eye contact, an affectionate comment here and there, and sometimes his lips find my back or the side of my head. I wouldn’t say that we’ve “properly” kissed yet as I’m still not sure exactly how to do that, and I don’t quite see ourselves as a “couple.” But whatever we are, I wouldn’t change a thing right now.

“Thanks for being a good sport,” I say as Aiden sits up again. “You can go clean it up. You might want to use makeup remover, I still have some in my bag.”

I briefly give him instructions on how to take off the eyeliner and he nods before responding, “Roger that. While I’m at it I should probably go put away some laundry, I’ve been putting that off… Need anything from me?”

“I’m good! I think I might study for a little bit, actually.” I motion to the Construction Technology spiral textbook that’s already sitting nearby on the desk. I’ve been getting a lot of interesting information from it, surprisingly, and I’m determined to finish reading it.

“You have fun with that,” Aiden says as he makes a face. Classes and studying are clearly the last thing he wants to think about now that he’s on summer break. And with that I’m left to my own devices for a little bit.

I’m glad this is the one textbook I have where I can easily turn the pages on my own, the laminated sheets both stiff and light enough for me to lift and push against. Before getting started, I pause to gaze at the cover for a moment. There in the corner, written in marker, is the name “Evie Ondine” - a relic from a time when I had much larger hands. It trips me out every single time I look at it.

I’m currently working my way through a chapter about prefabrication, and some of the examples are giving me ideas for how to independently package the minis I’m painting for my future business. I now have over twenty of the figurines ready to go and have some more blank ones on the docket - all that’s left is taking product photos and setting up a little packing station and I’ll be ready to launch in hopefully the next couple of weeks.

It wasn’t during such a calm afternoon that I expected disaster to strike.

It happens as I decide to go take a quick note about something I read - I’m keeping some paper nearby for just that purpose. I walk along the binding of the book, and as I step off of the laminated page, I slip on the slick plastic surface. My feet slide forward and the rest of me falls back, and I discover something I’d never noticed before. The wire that coils into a spiral and forms the binding of the textbook curls in on itself at the end. But the little loop extends slightly further than it should into a near imperceptible defect, even to me. And the tip of the metal spiral is very, very sharp.

I feel a sudden hot pain in my left calf. Disoriented, I look around myself, realizing I’m flat on my back now. My leg has passed right over the small knife-like point that was apparently protruding, leaving a long gash in my skin, from just above my ankle to just below my knee. Blood immediately begins pouring out, and I stop breathing at the sight of red quickly spreading onto the desk.

“Shit,” I curse under my breath. For a second the pain disappears as the adrenaline hits. What do I do?

The first aid kit. It’s on the opposite side of the desk from where my living space is, about a foot away from me now, though to me that means over twenty feet. I have to reach it. The pain is quickly returning but I flip onto my stomach anyway, fighting against the growing agony as I crawl forward. I glance over to the side as I drag myself, and I briefly notice the visual timer is actually a much closer target. A spin of that dial is apparently enough to make the thing beep loudly. I’ve still never used it… No, it’s fine, I just need to get to the bandages. All I need to do is stop the blood, I’ve got this. And I keep lurching forward, not thinking straight, just desperately pulling myself across the table.

I’m halfway there when Aiden walks by, a looming figure in the distance, casually strolling from his bedroom to the kitchen. I honestly hardly take notice of him, so incredibly intent on getting to the medical supplies first and foremost. For a split second he shoots me a passing smile, just a quick glance in my direction in the midst of his chores. But then he does a double take, looking back towards me again and freezing in place. For a second he’s very still, eyes widening as he processes my small figure that’s leaving behind a trail of red. And before I know it he’s rushing over to the desk without a word, flying into action.

Not a moment too soon. I’m in so much pain now that I’m struggling to breathe. I have to stop moving, and I crumble to my side as I reflexively clutch at my leg, which is completely covered in blood. There’s a flurry of movement above and around me - Aiden’s reached the first aid kit and he’s extracting a disinfecting wipe from its pouch as quickly as possible.

“Let me help, okay?” he says softly, tightly, and without waiting for an answer I feel his fingers pinch my ankle. I give in to his sudden authority over the situation, and I shield my face with my hands as the injured limb is lifted up. This is apparently the wrong move, though. The metallic smell of the blood that’s now all over my hands almost makes me vomit in my dizzied state. For a second I’m blasted back to a distant memory. The last day I spent in my house as a family of two. I remember the birthday cake on the floor, red ceramic and a red dress and red liquid spilling over my hands…

I’m snapped back to the present as I’m rolled onto my stomach so that Aiden can reach the back of my leg. And then I feel something cold and I can’t help it - I scream. The stinging of the disinfectant is excruciating. I curl in on myself, pressing my face into the ground, trying to muffle my own cries.

“Sorry, sorry…” Aiden whispers, and just a moment later the wet wipe is replaced by a dry gauze, “Are you able to hold this here? Tightly?”

I roll back onto my side and do as I’m told, clutching the tiny scrap of gauze that had thankfully been cut ahead of time for just this kind of emergency. I realize that putting pressure against the wound is important. Meanwhile my giant friend is moving quickly, smearing antibiotic ointment onto a fresh piece of gauze and prepping the already thinly sliced bandage.

“I’ve got it,” he says, taking over again and lifting my leg up high. I’m flipped back onto my stomach, and I bury my face in my arms as I try not to hyperventilate. He’s able to put on much more pressure than I am, though he’s careful not to crush the limb, and then he slowly begins wrapping the calf up. It’s surely a delicate process for him, my leg not much thicker than a matchstick.

The seconds drag by until finally the twelve minutes of terror are over. Aiden’s finished wrapping the wound and just lets my leg rest on top of his finger that’s sitting on the desk, keeping my foot elevated. I hear him exhale tremulously, and if anything the shaking in his hands is actually getting worse. Whatever forced calm he’d been able to summon in the thick of the crisis is crumbling away now. I’m breathing hard, still lying face down, gritting my teeth. The pain isn’t quite as bad as it was a few minutes ago, but god does this still hurt.

Finally there’s a slight tremor - one large elbow coming to rest on the desk as the giant leans back in. “You still with me?” he asks weakly.

I flash him one tiny thumbs up just to show him I haven’t in fact passed out. And then I slowly flip myself over, ankle rotating against the enormous finger as I keep it propped up. I lay on my back and raise my chin to gaze at him. He looks as pale and breathless as I feel.

“Yes,” I finally answer.

Aiden’s jaw clenches as his eyes pass over the length of me before meeting mine again. “We should get you to a hospital, Evie,” he says quietly.

“What?!” I gasp, my emotions heightened by the pain. “No, no, it’s fine! It’s not as bad as it looks… See? I can still move my leg fine. It hurts like a bitch, but it didn’t hit muscle or an artery or anything like that.”

“But what if you still need stitches or something?”

“I don’t. I got really scraped up from how I fell but it wasn’t that deep a cut. Look, the bandage isn’t overflowing. Maybe the bleeding’s already stopped.”

Aiden still looks doubtful. But I’m not just speaking out of fear - although that’s certainly part of it - I really do think this isn’t as serious as it might have appeared. Time will tell. If the bleeding doesn’t stop then we’ll reevaluate.

“I got my tetanus shot right before starting school,” I insist, “Let’s just… let’s just give it a minute before we rush into anything. Okay?”

I think I’ve convinced him, at least for the moment. He takes a deep breath in through his nose and now his gaze starts wandering over the surface of the desk. “What happened?” he asks.

With an unsteady hand I point vaguely towards the textbook. Yikes, there’s so much blood on the way. No wonder I feel so dizzy. “I fell on the tip of the… the spiral…” I say.

Aiden looks to where I’m motioning and reaches for the bottom of the book’s spine, thumbing the metallic end in question. Without a word he closes the pages and slides the entire thing off the desk, dropping it to the floor below. He takes in just how long the streak of red is that stretches across the desk.

Then he speaks again, and there’s a new edge to his voice now. “Why didn’t you call for me? I was just over there, you were right next to the timer. Why go all the way across the desk instead?”

I look away in shame. I hadn’t realized how ingrained my habits were. “I don’t know…”

There’s a long pause. A heavy sigh. “You have got to learn to ask for help, Eve.”

His frustration is all too clear. I haven’t stopped trembling since I cut myself, but the anxiety gets worse at his harsh tone. I grasp at words, trying to come up with an explanation. “I thought I had it, I… I just… I didn’t want to bothe–” I stop myself, knowing how stupid I was about to sound.

He fills in the blank anyway and raises his voice sharply, “Alright well it bothers me that you lost so much blood just now!”

“I’m sorry,” I whimper. My leg slips off of his finger and I fearfully curl into the fetal position, facing away from him. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry…”

Aiden sighs, this time not out of frustration but out of guilt. His hand comes closer, not quite touching me but cupping to align with the curve of my spine. His ring finger softly makes contact with the top of my head.

“No, I’m sorry,” he says with a much more gentle tone, “I know this isn’t helping. Now’s not the time.”

He leans all the way down, resting his forehead on his hand so that he can be right above me, his face becoming my ceiling. His eyes are closed next to my head and I feel his exhale pass over my feet.

“That just really scared me,” he whispers.

I’m completely silent, still shaking, covered in a thin sheen of sweat, my new makeup smudged and mixing with the blood I’ve smeared on my face. My leg is throbbing. My mind is heavy with the reminder of how fragile my entire existence is. One wrong move is all it takes. We’re always just one small step away from all of this falling apart.

Another breeze rolls in through the window, mussing our hair, and this time it’s anything but pleasant. Right now it just feels cold.

@i-am-insane I think for a lot of us there might be an important distinction to make here. Are you asking us why we find the fantasy appealing? Or are you asking why a a character in a story might want to actually shrink?

Because for me, I could tell you all the reasons I love the idea of being tiny, but a lot of it works much much better in fantasy than it works in reality. The fluff stuff might transfer over (like the idea of being comforted and protected and cared for by a giant, that sounds pretty good IRL). I could go on and on about that if you like~

But a big part of my kink side is being dominated - someone else making me smaller and smaller and having their fun with me. The loss of control and the fear itself play a big role for me in that fantasy - but of course, that doesn’t mean I want to be violated in real life. So for a character in a story, I’m not sure that kind of motivation would necessarily work? I suppose you could have a character who has a size kink and so is curious to explore that if she gets the opportunity (and either it’s all sweet and consensual, or she gets in over her head). But if you’re wanting to write a character who doesn’t have the size fixation to begin with but still wants to get small in the story, that might affect her motivations.

Chapter 45
Evie

I’ve been staring out the window for a very long time. There are residual raindrops from the storm last night still clinging to the glass. Rays of light are beginning to shyly peek out from the clouds. The streets are empty as far as I can tell, almost eerily quiet.

There are subtle sounds in the apartment behind me. Occasional magnified footsteps, a waterfall running in the sink, the distant buzz of the refrigerator. But I just keep my eyes on the window as I sit upright on my bed. There’s a tree within eyeshot, its foliage level with the second story where I am. For way too long last night I was watching a bird trying to take shelter from the rain in those branches. The wind kept knocking the poor thing askew as it continually shook water from its wings. It fought hard to wait out the storm, but it was just so vulnerable and helpless. Eventually it flew off to look for better shelter. I hope it found some.

I can tell that the footsteps are heading in my direction now, but I’m too busy staring to acknowledge them. Finally there’s the sound of the chair creaking behind me.

“Need anything?” Aiden asks softly.

I shake my head. “I’m good, thanks.”

One massive hand floats over to my side as the giant lightly touches my arm with the back of a finger joint. “Talk to me. What’s up?”

I finally turn away from the window to smile up at him. “Sorry. Just didn’t sleep great, I guess. I’m fine.”

He sighs, and the smile he gives me in return is sympathetic. “When’s the last time you were able to get much sleep?”

I laugh wryly. “How long ago did I hurt myself?”

“About a week.”

“About a week.” I shrug. “The pain at night’s getting better. Hopefully no thunder tonight and then I’ll be totally rested tomorrow.”

We chat for a little bit longer before Aiden leaves to get me some breakfast, and I decide to sit facing his direction now, away from the window. I watch him with interest, his too-large body traversing vast distances with such ease. We’re stark opposites of each other in that regard. But I’m glad to have him around. I look forward to being able to climb into his hand without any assistance, or walk along his shoulders in a light massage while we watch a movie, or just be able to get up from the bed and write him a note like we normally would. If the universe ever decides to give me a break, I promise to myself to never take that kind of thing for granted again.

I’ll be seeing less of him today, though. Summer classes are starting soon, which means my roommate will be going back to work. Thankfully he won’t be gone all that much compared to a normal semester where he’d also be taking classes himself, but he has orientation today and it’s scheduled to take up most of the day.

Thankfully Moira’s coming. I’ve been looking forward to it - I haven’t seen her in quite a while now since she’s been so busy with work. We’ve been texting and talking on the phone a little bit, but it just hasn’t been the same. We’ve already vowed not to let this much time pass without hanging out again.

Oh hey, speak of the devil. I sit up straighter at the sound of a knock at the door. Aiden lets her in and I can tell she’s trying to suppress her bubbliness as she crosses the room with him. She looks so adorable, her strawberry-blonde hair half pulled back with a summery ribbon. I beam at her, as tired as I am, waving excitedly. Our voices climb up in pitch as we reunite.

Once we’ve all caught up a little bit, Aiden talks Moira through our setup, showing her where he keeps various new supplies since my injury. We spend some time explaining the best way to lift me up, finger and thumb just under my arms, so that my leg is spared when I need to be relocated. Mo practices with some hesitation, and it takes a little bit of time but she’s able to transfer me onto her palm without issue. I go ahead and stay there as she finishes talking to Aiden and he finally heads off to work.

Once it’s just the two of us, Moira turns back to me, setting her hand on the table’s surface and crouching down so that her face is level with me. Now that she doesn’t have to think as much about logistics for the day, it seems like she’s finally taking me in.

“Aww, Evie…” she says quietly, “Your poor leg. It’s such a big cut.”

I smirk and gesture at my heavily bandaged up calf. “What are you talking about? It’s less than an inch long.”

She rolls her eyes. “Hardy har. Are you okay right now, can I get you anything?”

“Maybe just a change in scenery?” I admit with a wince. “I don’t even care where.”

“Sure!” she chirps, carefully getting back to her feet while moving her arms as little as possible, “Let’s go down by the ottoman for a bit?”

It’s only a couple of feet away, but to me it’s akin to going to a different room in the house, so I welcome it anyway. Moira sits down and rests her hands with me in them onto the ottoman. She makes no gesture to take me off of her though, and I gratefully linger in her palm.

“How have things been otherwise?” she asks me avidly, “I can’t believe it’s been over three weeks since we’ve hung out.”

“I know, I’ve missed you,” I answer with a smile. “Um, I’ve been pretty good I guess, up until the injury.”

“So you and Aiden have been doing alright then? Ever since…?”

Oh, right. I’d called Moira on the phone just after Aiden accidentally grabbed me in his sleep, but we haven’t been able to talk about it since. I haven’t even told her about our trip to the lab yet. I nod and say, “Yeah. It was just an accident, we’ve been figuring things out. Things have been… great, honestly.”

I can already feel myself blushing a little bit as I squirm inwardly. I also haven’t told her about just how close Aiden and I have been getting. I’m still not completely sure what it will all amount to, and I don’t know if I feel ready to talk about it yet. Thankfully she doesn’t pry.

“I’m glad to hear that. You two are handling all of this like champions. Although - and please don’t take this the wrong way - you look really exhausted, girl.”

I shrug, still feeling awkward from the previous subject, and I try to brush aside her concern. “It’s hard to sleep with all of this bandaging. But it’s healing. I’ll be just fine.”

“Hang in there… I can actually relate a little bit. It sucks when you’re trying to recover from something, but said thing is keeping you from getting the rest you need. It’s a vicious cycle.”

My eyebrows shoot up at this new fragment of information. “Oh? Have you dealt with any injuries before?” I ask curiously.

“Not exactly. I had a heart condition when I was younger, and sometimes the episodes would happen at night.” She reacts to the sudden look of horror on my face by waving her free hand reassuringly, “It’s all good now though!”

“Moira, I had no idea,” I stutter, still very concerned about the current state of her health. “You’re sure it’s all good now?”

“Oh yeah. I eventually had a procedure done that completely took care of it. But I was struggling with it for years since my parents didn’t take it seriously. Until I ended up in the hospital, and then the doctors were able to see exactly what was happening.”

I’m seeing her in a new light now that I know she’s battled through something so major. I wish I could do something as simple as crawl over to her thumb so that I can give it a hug. But even that would be a struggle right now, so I just try to commiserate. “That must have been so rough.”

“Yeah, it was hard,” she mutters as one corner of her mouth turns up. “Probably not as hard as being inches tall with a busted leg, though.”

I smile up at her weakly. I think we’ve just formed a new level of kinship here.

Her tone shifts as she says, “You know what helped make me feel better when I was going through that?” She turns to the side and uses her unoccupied hand to rummage through her purse before pulling out a small grocery bag. “Baking. I brought blackberries!”

I perk up. “Yeah, that sounds great. You’re welcome to use the kitchen if you like. I just wish I could help.”

“You can!” she says eagerly. “You’ve mentioned one of your favorite recipes was blackberry cobbler, right? I’ve never made cobbler myself, so… can you teach me?”

Despite the fatigue, I straighten up fully with budding excitement. Maybe having a task to do is just what I need right now.

Moira carries me to the kitchen and helps me find a comfortable seat on a bag of brown sugar. Between what she brought and what’s already in the cupboards we have everything we need, and I recite the recipe steps as best as I can from memory. I’ve helped teach Aiden how to make many different meals at this point, but while he was a fairly inexperienced cook when I moved in, Mo already knows her way around the kitchen tools, so she makes my job easy.

“My childhood friend Lynne taught me this recipe,” I say once the cobbler is safely in the oven. “Maybe that’s another reason why I’m so fond of it.”

“Oh, I’m not sure you’ve ever mentioned her to me before,” Moira says as she gets back to standing. “Do you guys still keep in touch at all?”

I tell her the same story that I’ve told Aiden before, that I was good friends with this kid in elementary school, how they were the one who got me into baking and anime. And how the moment they talked to me about feeling confused about their gender and my mom overheard our conversation, I was forced to change schools and never saw my former best friend again. It’s a bit of a downer of a tale, but revisiting Lynne in my mind is kinda nice. I bet they would have gotten along really well with Moira, actually… I wonder how they’re doing now.

My giant friend looks sympathetic. “Hmm. Sounds like your mom was… a little close minded?”

“You could say that,” I mumble. Talking to her about the hard stuff is always cathartic, but I need to be careful. I’m starting to head into forbidden-conversation territory.

“So is mine,” Moira sympathizes. “My dad’s even worse.”

My shoulders slump. “I’m sorry to hear that. You get along with your sister though, right?” I remember her mentioning that her sister was planning to visit in the fall.

“Yeah, we get along okay, I guess. She’s the only family member I still talk to at all.” Suddenly she winces and clasps her hands together apologetically. “Sorry, Evie, I don’t mean to keep bringing things back to me.”

I laugh out loud at this. “Are you kidding me? First of all, I want to be there for you too if you ever need to vent. Second of all, you’re helping me feel less alone in my problems. I literally have no family left… Not that I miss them.”

She nods with relief and says, “Hey, blood ties can be overrated. I personally prefer friends.”

I stay silent and thoughtful for a minute as she starts cleaning up the countertop. The only reason I’m friends with Moira is because Aiden introduced me… because I was lonely. I’ll admit, I still get lonely sometimes. I’ve dealt with various levels of loneliness my entire life, even when I was surrounded by people. The difference now is that I can say with absolute confidence that my only two friends are some of the best people I’ve ever met. That’s something to be thankful for, at least.

“Hey, Moira?” I call out. She looks down to acknowledge me, her big green eyes bright and attentive. From my still seated position, I stretch my arms up towards her face. “Can I have a hug?”

For a second she just blinks in surprise. Then she smiles shyly as she crouches down, until her eyes are level with me on the counter. “That’s not reserved for a certain someone?” she asks sheepishly.

My fingertips spread out for emphasis as I say, “It’s reserved for the people I really care about.”

She leans in slowly, cautious about doing anything that might hurt me, but she lets her eyes close once I make contact with her face. I lean against her nose and then hug my arms to her cheek, pressing my own cheek against her skin. Her head is markedly smaller than Aiden’s, her features are so dainty, and she smells like lilac instead of cedarwood. It’s a completely different kind of intimacy, but a tender one nonetheless. I feel like the smile that’s on my face is the first genuine one that I’ve had all day.

Soon the cobbler’s ready and we’re back in the living room enjoying the sweet treat. After that we play some conversation games like Would You Rather and 20 Questions, where I don’t need to stand up to participate. Later we watch a Disney movie as we cool off with some iced tea.

My heart soars with gratitude. Even when Aiden was unable to help with my shit mood today, there was Moira, ready to take the baton. I can’t wait to share some of this cobbler with him once he finishes work. At long last I’m feeling like I can see the light at the end of the tunnel despite this injury. I’m finally able to return to my usual mantra - don’t give up, fight back, work harder. Take that, universe.

Chapter 52
Evie

We hang out with Diego for a couple of hours that morning - afternoon? - while we wait for Star to get back from out of town. Aiden makes some food, and we fill in my new acquaintance on what actually happened to me back in February and how we’ve been managing since. I come to like the guy, even though he really is “a bit much.” I’ll admit that I’m relieved when his wife finally swings by to pick him up. Thankfully there’s no insisting on me needing to make her acquaintance today - even Diego figures he should probably talk to her first. I’m open to meeting her, but the past 24 hours have been a lot and I’m bone-tired.

Once he’s gone, Aiden and I both agree that we need a nap in our own beds. After a good two hours of rest and eventually a light dinner, we finally start to feel more like ourselves again.

In a silent request to join him on his journey to the kitchen, I climb aboard the giant’s plate once we’ve finished eating. “Couch cuddles after this?” I suggest with a smile.

He perks up with a nod and delicately lifts the plate with me in tow. “Yes please.”

The dishes are tended to, and now we can finally relax together. Aiden lets out an audible exhale when he sits on the couch, and I’m already wriggling between his fingers in anticipation as he stretches his legs out and then lowers me to his stomach. I touch down just above his navel and collapse into a happy heap, sprawling out on his shirt as if I’m feeling out a luxurious bed. I’m shaken by a chuckle and look up to see a giant face gazing down at me from the sky, before it disappears as he leans all the way back onto the armrest.

That nap apparently gave me some good energy back. The hand that was carrying me settles just behind me to soon become my blanket, but I want to get closer to his face first, and I want to get there myself. I start climbing, grabbing at the thick fabric of his shirt to help me traverse the angled plain of his body. Up past his ribs, and then over the subtle hill of one of his pecs as I fight to stay stable through each rise and fall of his breath.

I think Aiden’s enjoying my little escapade. I hear the occasional whoosh of a content sigh and his muscles seem to be relaxing underneath me. I’m still being mindful of my leg, so it takes me several minutes to traverse his torso. But finally I make it to the top of his chest, and I hoist myself over the tree root-like hump of his clavicle. I park my rear right in the dip above the collarbone, and I lay back, feeling rather proud of myself for journeying all the way up here. I’m getting pretty skilled at this whole being tiny business.

“You feel good,” Aiden murmurs, and his hand finally catches up with me, an idle finger trailing against my arm.

“You are good,” I respond, reaching up to kiss the base of his neck.

For a long while we don’t need any more words. We just exist together, unburdened and at peace. The minutes pass in silence as I gaze up the length of the giant’s neck and the underside of his jaw, taking in every last detail. It’s a little strange - we’re not the same people we were a day ago. At least, I’m not. The simple act of telling my story last night has left me feeling like a new woman.

But… I’m not sure how it makes him feel. I should probably check in on that.

I eventually sit up and shimmy over to the center of his chest so that I can slide down his sternum. As if stirring from sleep, despite being dutifully awake, Aiden turns and readjusts his head to watch my progress.

“Where to?” he asks with a curious smile.

I stop right above his diaphragm and turn to sit cross-legged with my face aimed upwards. I start the conversation gently.

“I just wanted to talk. And see where, um… where we stand, with everything? How are you doing with that bombshell I dropped on you last night?”

There’s a pause as Aiden looks down at me thoughtfully. I’m more than willing to wait as he puts some order in his mind, keeping myself from getting too nervous by focusing on the ups and downs of his breathing. Then his hand slides up beside me, fingers already reaching around my frame.

“May I?” he asks, and when I nod he tenderly pinches the digits around my torso. He wants to sit up straighter for this conversation, so he readjusts himself and bends one knee up. That’s where he places me, right on the balcony-sized surface of his kneecap so that I can have a steady seat. His fingertips linger at the edges of my waistline.

“Listen, um… First I’d like to mention something that’s been on my mind…" he mutters. “I owe you an apology.”

I raise my eyebrows. I can see it now, guilt and shame plain on his face, and I wonder where exactly it’s all stemming from. I’m glad he kept his finger nearby so that I can hook my arm around it and tug it forward. He lets me, and I lay his fingertip on my lap, petting it like it’s a cat.

A whisper of a smile graces his features, and he keeps going. "No matter how I was feeling last night, I should never have lost my temper the way I did. I shouldn’t do that with anyone, but it’s particularly unfair with you, since you can’t just walk out of the room if it becomes too much. If I ever start getting really frustrated about something in the future, I promise I’ll step away first so I can keep my cool. I’m not usually quick to anger, I don’t see this being a big issue, but I’d rather address it…”

I slowly nod and look down to focus on the giant’s finger in my lap. I absently start tracing vague shapes across the surface of his fingernail as I ponder my response.

“Thank you,” I say, “I appreciate that. The more I’ve thought about it, though, the more I understand why you were so frustrated. I want to communicate more, I’ll try to get better about opening up…” I stop making invisible doodles and look back up at him hesitantly. “But I’ll say it now. I don’t think it’s quite like a switch. I’m so used to repressing everything…”

Aiden bends forward to kiss the top of my head, and then he hovers there. “That’s alright. I can be patient, especially now that I better understand why. My communication hasn’t always been the best either - I was blaming you for bottling up your feelings, but clearly I had a lot pent up too. We can work on it together.”

I tilt my head up to return the kiss before he pulls away. My spirits are lifted by how much better it feels to speak from the heart and not constantly be trying to hide something. Things are already feeling healthier. And I want to keep going with this newfound open line of communication.

“Are you, um, sure you’re not too freaked out by the fact that I have a stalker?" I ask with a tilt of the head. I can’t help worrying, since literally everyone else I told had major problems with it.

Aiden raises his shoulders in a little shrug. “I don’t want to make light of that. I’m concerned for you of course, but I’m not concerned for me, if that’s what you’re asking. I don’t care who he is, I’m not abandoning you. If anything I’m honestly feeling more determined to keep you safe than ever.”

“He hasn’t stopped looking for me for almost five years,” I insist, “He’s probably still looking for me right now.”

“Well, the good news is that right now…” Aiden lifts his finger up from my lap so that he can lightly bop the top of my head, “…you’re very easy to hide.”

I chuckle and reach up to grab his fingertip again, hugging it against me with a playful possessiveness. But then with a sobering tone I explain, “See, that’s why I’ve been really wanting to hide.”

He frowns. “I hate that he’s what’s keeping us from attempting to get you your life back.”

“Well, I wasn’t lying about the rest of it,” I say, “I’m still really intimidated by the idea of going public and having who knows what kind of tests run on me. But yeah… he’s at the center of it. I have no idea how he’d react to seeing me like this, but I don’t want to find out.”

Aiden sets his jaw. “That’s assuming he’d even see you like this… Let’s talk through it? Say we go to the local police. We tell them everything. What happens next?”

I feel a rush of fear take hold. Of course I’m still going to be afraid when I think about this. But now the difference is that I have someone else to lean on as I try to work things out. I take a deep breath.

“Whether he sees it on the news or finds my name in a police record or anything else… the second he knows where I am, I’m at risk of him finding me.”

“But… he wouldn’t actually haul you away against your will, right? That’s… that’s kidnapping.”

Yeah, he doesn’t quite get it. Maybe I need to share more of the nitty gritty details. I clench his finger a little tighter, holding it like my anchor as I revisit another painful memory.

“That night after he took me to the woods… when he knew I wanted out of the relationship… he locked me in the closet until morning. So that I could ‘think things through.’ The next day he decided he still didn’t feel like I could be trusted alone at home, so he tied me up and stuffed me into the pantry so that no one would hear me scream while he was at work. I managed to break out and that’s when I ran away but… no. I don’t think he’s above kidnapping me.”

Aiden tenses up and looks heartbroken to hear what I’ve been through. “B-but he’s a cop,” he says with a tone of desperation, “Would he really double down and risk his job like that? He’s supposed to uphold the law, not break it…” I can tell by the look on his face that he’s not convincing himself whatsoever. It’s not like police officers are universally model citizens, far from it.

But I opt to hammer it in. “He would do tons of stuff he shouldn’t, all the time. Excessive speeding. Illegal gambling. Sex with a minor… He’s taken criminal evidence home before just because he thought it was cool and wanted to show me. I doubt he was allowed to wave around his state-assigned firearm when he threatened his own life in the woods. I’m sure half the shit he’s done to keep figuring out where I move away to isn’t legal either. Not to mention the stalking itself. He totally thinks he’s above the law.”

I sigh as I gaze down towards Aiden’s chest. “And honestly, he is above the law. For better or worse, he accomplished a lot out in the field. Saved lives in pretty dramatic fashion. Every precinct in our area saw him as this hero. Hence him being able to transfer so easily whenever I moved to a new county. He got along well with the other officers, did some favors to keep them in his pocket. They would always look the other way when he did something he shouldn’t.”

I shudder as I go back through our imaginary scenario of me revealing myself to the cops. “I really don’t think I’ll be safe with the local police, even if I tell them about him first. I think they would listen to him before they listen to me. Once I’m under their custody, all it takes is him pulling some strings. Or just sneaking me out.”

“I won’t let that happen!” Aiden interjects, “I’ll never let him take you away.”

There’s a squeezing in my chest from pure appreciation. “I know you’d do what you can,” I say softly, “But once shit hits the fan and other people are involved… you don’t think I might get separated from you at some point? Even just for a little bit?”

He doesn’t answer, just looks past me with concentration, trying to think of some kind of solution. I shrug as I try to take out the tension in the air.

“I might be wrong about all of it. Maybe the cops would be perfectly accommodating and listen to what I have to say. Or maybe my situation is so extreme that I’d be under enough scrutiny and he’d never get to me anyway. Hell, maybe Brock would have zero interest in me now that I’m tiny. Or we could go to a hospital and they run a few tests and fix this right away, before the police even find out. It just doesn’t feel likely that it would be easy. I’m terrified of all the risks.”

With a quiet sigh of defeat, Aiden nods. “I get it.” The massive finger I’m holding comes to life, snaking its way up to touch my cheek as he repeats, “I get it. And I’m not exactly complaining, you know. I like you here, like this.”

I smile, immediately comforted by him stroking the side of my face. “You know what?” I say, “Same. I really enjoy my life with you, as scary as it can get sometimes. I know I need to face all that stuff eventually, but I’d feel better if we waited a while, let Brock chase his tail for a bit so that he’s hopefully far away when the time comes. If you’re okay with it, let’s stick with our original deal and talk about it again at the end of the year?”

He nods in agreement, and that settles that. Now taking on a more feline role, I rub my cheek against his fingertip, practically purring with affection. His other fingers give me little back scritches, and if this keeps going I’ll surely melt into a little puddle and slide right off his knee.

But Aiden switches gears. He turns his palm to my back instead and nudges me with it. I understand that he’s wanting to pick me up, so I start raising into a kneeled position and it’s enough for him to scoop me right up into his hand.

“Speaking of liking you here. Can we address something else you said last night?” he asks, slowly lifting me higher. “About whether I like you… or the idea of you.”

I half forgot that I admitted that. Alright. So far so good with this communication thing. Let’s keep going.

“R-right…” I respond.

“I don’t want to assume anything. How much of that do you think is past trauma, versus something you’re legitimately worried about?”

“Uhhh.” I sit there in silence for several seconds, frowning as I think things through. Finally I answer, “I don’t know if I’ve ever really thought about it being because of my history… But… damn. Yeah, come to think of it, Brock totally objectified me. His compliments were always about how I looked, and he had certain expectations too - he didn’t want me above a certain weight, for example. I knew that, but I didn’t realize that I might have been projecting some of that onto you. Shit, I… I’m sorry.”

Aiden quickly shakes his head. “No, no, don’t apologize. Honestly, all that aside, I think it still makes sense that you’d worry I was just objectifying you too. I told you I’m into tiny girls, and then I turn around and tell you I like you, literally the next day. Of course you’re going to have some doubts. So… I want to make it very clear.”

He takes a deep breath and brings his other hand up so that they’re both cupped around me, gently cradling my frame. I feel a blooming heat inside my chest.

“Yes, I like you little,” he says, his hazel gaze bathing me with tender care. “I think you’re the most beautiful person in the world, and this way I can see all of you so easily, hold all of you, all at once. I like it in the same way I like the rest of your body… like the shape of your legs, or how you smile with your eyes.”

I can’t help beaming fondly at him, inadvertently proving his point, and he breaks into an adoring chuckle, for a second overcome with emotion. I feel a prickling in the back of my eyes.

Aiden regains himself. “But when I think about us, I think about our conversations. I think about how good of a listener you are, and how you always know the right thing to say when I’m feeling down. I think about how fun it is to play a game with you, or how nice it is to relax together and watch a movie. I think about how excited you get about things, how infectious that is.”

I’m starting to feel short of breath.

“I was falling for you just from our letters to each other. Where it hardly even matters how big the size difference is. You’re so much more than what I can see on the outside - you’re creative and thoughtful and hardworking… and you make me feel like I’m actually worth something.”

I rub a tear away with the heel of my hand.

“I don’t care about the rest,” he says, and he wipes another tear from my cheek with the pad of his thumb, “Whether you’re Evelyn Frost, or Evie Ondine. Whether you’re big or small. Whether you’re happy or you’re scared, no matter how strong you are or how weak you feel. None of it makes a difference to how I feel about you.”

He lifts me higher to be eye level with him.

“Because I know you, Eve. And I’m in love with you.”

My tears are falling freely now and my entire body is filled with heat. Tears are welling up in his eyes too but his smile cuts through them as he adds, “I’ve been wanting to really commit to you for a while. I guess I’m stumbling into that right now.”

I catch myself before I start sobbing and shakily get to my feet in his hand.

“I don’t have such an eloquent speech prepared in exchange,” I say breathlessly, “But I love you too, Aiden. If you’ll have me… I’m yours.”

He leans in to kiss me. Our joy overflows and we meld into each other as if we were made of pure light. It doesn’t matter that to him I’m the size of a mouse, or that to me he’s the size of a building. To us it’s a perfect fit.

Chapter 74
Evie

I hum with pleasure as I burrow myself into the crook of Aiden’s neck. I’ve dragged the loose collar of his sweater to drape over myself like a blanket, soft and weighted. We might as well be outside by the campfire again, it’s so cozy.

I feel his chuckle in response to me making myself at home, and it’s like he’s moving in slow motion as he carefully leans forward from his seated position on the couch. He’s got a small portable propane burner set up on the coffee table just ahead of us, and he’s holding a large skewered marshmallow out for roasting. Earlier we realized we hadn’t had any s’mores yet on this trip, and that felt like a travesty. So even though we’ve relegated ourselves to the loft upstairs for the evening, away from the rest of the group, we’ve figured out a way to enjoy the sweet treat regardless.

“You all packed up?” I ask him lazily, gazing down the long length of my giant’s arm leading towards the little flame on the table.

“Yeah, pretty much,” he responds. “I’ll be ready to leave first thing in the morning.”

“Sounds good. I think I’m mostly there. Oh, I’m just remembering - we left some of my things out to dry in the living room from the hot tub. Like my swimsuit and stuff.”

“Oh, right, we did. I’ll make a mental note… Whoops.”

The marshmallow has just caught fire in a small burst of orange. Aiden quickly brings it to his mouth, and I tense up at the heat coming so close. But with a quick puff of air he blows out the flame.

“I think it’s ready," he muses, twirling the skewer between his fingers to assess the damage. There’s a small patch of black but the rest of it looks perfectly toasted. My mouth is already watering.

“That smells so good,” I groan, and as much as I hate to abandon my warm little nook, the scent of the sugar is calling to me. I crawl forward and turn around to climb down the front of the titan’s chest, easily finding handholds in the chunky sweater.

“Careful,” Aiden murmurs, his tone tinged with amusement as I make my way down his body. His free hand approaches to hover nearby in case I lose my grip, but to his credit he lets me make the quick journey to his lap on my own.

I walk along his thigh to get closer to where the rest of the set up is on the coffee table, the graham crackers and chocolate ready to go. I sit on his knee to watch him assemble the massive gooey sandwich, and then he breaks off a corner so that he can hand it to me. My portion is the size of an entire pizza, but it’s enticing nonetheless, the chocolate already melting against the hot marshmallow. The nibble I take is simply divine, in that cheap artificial kind of way.

“I can’t even remember the last time I’ve had s’mores,” I ponder.

Aiden finishes chewing his own bite and then beams down at me. “You’ve now officially experienced camping. Congratulations.”

I tilt my head back to respond with my own grin between bites. We eat in silence for a couple of minutes as we hear the sudden raised voices coming from excited conversation downstairs. There’s some laughter as I catch that Diego is poking fun at Star for something. And then it sounds like they’re all relocating from the dining area to the living room, and Camila is avidly telling the other girls that she wants to take some pictures for her Instagram. It’s a good thing I’m not there, actually. The last thing I want is to end up on social media, even if it’s by accident.

But I really do wish we could be down there and hang out with the rest of them. Part of why I was so excited for this trip was to spend more time with Moira, Diego and Star. And yet for all of our last day together we spent it separated. It’s such a bummer.

“I do hope we can do more stuff like this with the others,” I say, brushing off some of the graham cracker crumbs I’ve been leaving on my boyfriend’s leg. I don’t have to specify what I mean when I say that. He obviously knows I’m excluding someone with that statement.

Admittedly, I haven’t told Aiden at all about what happened in the kitchen earlier today, so he doesn’t know just how much I’m wanting to avoid Camila at this point. I really do plan on telling him eventually. I just don’t want to stir the pot right now. All it might do is make him angry enough to confront her without thinking things through. Moira said they’d be keeping an eye on Camila tonight to make sure no more altercations happen, so it just feels pointless to cause a fuss… I can vent my heart out on the car ride back tomorrow morning.

My towering partner gives me a sympathetic smile in response to my current lamenting, and he softly strokes my spine with the back of a finger joint. “I’m sure we’ll get more chances to do fun things with them. Remember the other day during the hike, when Diego was suggesting that you, me and Moira come spend the night at their place? Does that sound like fun?”

I lean into his touch and nod. “Yeah, it does. And maybe we can actually travel somewhere else with them. I doubt the logistics would work out, but that Disney trip sounded pretty great.”

“Totally. This weekend isn’t the end all be all, there will be other opportunities.”

I let myself slowly collapse all the way back now, so that I’m fully laying over his hand as I look straight up at him. I sigh, “You always know how to make me feel better.”

Aiden’s smile softens as he murmurs, “I’m glad.”

“Okay, I’m going to stop before I get a stomachache,” I add, lifting my still-huge portion of the treat up towards him. He laughs and pinches what’s more like a crumb to him out of my hands so that he can pop it into his own mouth.

He starts cleaning things up at that point, but I’m still splayed onto his fingers. They twitch below me, gently requesting I get off of them, but I refuse, simply flipping over so that I can cling to them even more. This doesn’t escape the giant’s notice, and he pauses in his one-handed tidying to address me.

“Hey, I need that arm,” he finally says with a raised eyebrow.

“No you don’t,” I insist, and at this point I’m trying to crawl inside his grasp and pull his fingertips to close around me. This captures his attention all the more. Aiden drops the box of graham crackers and pivots in my direction, causing my heart to flutter as he suddenly takes up more of my vision. He lifts me off of his knee and relocates me to the armrest of the couch that he’s on, so that he can encircle one arm around me. And he leans in close, so close that his breath tickles my skin and I could reach out and touch his lips.

“You are so goddamn cute,” he whispers, his eyes scanning the length of me. I revel in being the center of his attention.

“Mm-hmm,” I hum, “That’s my secret weapon. It seems that I’ve tamed the fearsome giant.”

“You keep telling yourself that, short stack," Aiden teases and he kisses me, his mouth pressing heavily against my chest. I flop back, buckling under his weight and struggling not to laugh at his playful showing of dominance.

“I got you to stop what you were doing, didn’t I?” I insist, shivering with pleasure as his lips move on to caress my neck and shoulder.

He maintains contact and so his voice rumbles through me. “Mmmm, true. Alright. I surrender.”

I can’t stop giggling as we snuggle into each other. This is one of those moments that’s overwhelming for all the right reasons. Sometimes I really adore the fact that there’s so much of him.

“I love you, babe,” I tell him wistfully.

He stops kissing me so that his face can descend, my view of his mouth quickly replaced by the stunning hazel of his eyes instead. He’s so close that I can practically see my reflection in them. “I love you too, Evie.”

He lays his head down and appears to settle in beside me, sighing contentedly and relaxing his posture. But soon his smile shifts into a look of consternation instead. And then he sheepishly shifts gears.

“Actually… I suck for interrupting this, but… mind if I go downstairs real quick? Just need to go pee.”

I smile. “Yeah, go ahead. I’m fine here,” I say, scooting back. Then as he sits up I suddenly think of something that has been subtly bothering me with how dry the air has gotten. “Actually, would you mind finding my lip balm while you’re at it?”

“Sure, do you remember where it is?”

“Check the shelf just in case, but otherwise it’s either in my black pouch or somewhere in your duffle bag… Sorry, that’s not very helpful.”

“No worries, I’ll find it. Be right back.”

I watch him leave and sigh as I lean back against a couch cushion. At least I can catch my breath. I’m feeling so warm from pleasure and from my boyfriend’s proximity. It’s a little dizzying after such a long day. A long three days, if we’re being frank.

Actually, what would be really nice is a quick breath of fresh air. I glance upwards and off to the side. Right next to this couch is a window, unfortunately closed. But I’m starting to be good at noticing invisible paths. If I were to walk along that windowsill, I could hop onto a nearby table… and on the other end of that table is a second window, opened by a crack. It’s not all that far. What the heck.

The most strenuous part is going from the armrest to the top of the couch backing, since the cushion that I’m climbing is so pliant. But from there I quickly make my way from platform to platform, and I’ve reached the open window in under two minutes. I notice nervously that there isn’t any kind of mosquito screen, just a gap that gives out to a cliff from the second story. I give the opening a very wide berth, moving as far away from it as I safely can on the table.

I take a seat and gaze out at the night. A big, almost-full moon shines like a melting snowball in the sky. The rustling of distant trees fills the air, devoid of their rich colors in the dark. I do get some of that fresh air I was craving. Yikes, the temperature has severely dropped since we last went outside, I guess that cold front must have hit. I should’ve asked Aiden to get my coat too, maybe even a scarf. Meanwhile I was feeling so warm from his body heat that I’d taken my socks and jacket off, and they’re still on the couch.

A breeze brushes me from behind and I shiver. Alright, I can’t handle this, I need to go back to the couch right now for the warmer clothes. I get to my feet and frown as I realize something. The breeze was coming from behind?…

I’m abruptly knocked down to my hands and knees. Wind whips at my hair and I curl up reflexively, gasping at how suddenly and violently it just pushed me. I realize that there must be another open window nearby, maybe in Camila’s room, and it’s causing a draft. But this split-second thought is useless to me as I don’t have any time to react to what happens next.

The following gust is so powerful that I find myself airborne for a moment. I cry out in fear as I tumble forward, bouncing against the table as I roll out of control. Desperately I try to get back up, grab onto something, drag myself out of the way of the air current, but it’s too strong, too fast, and it’s like I’m getting inhaled towards a dark, gaping maw. All of it happens within just a couple of seconds so I’m in complete shock as I fall right out the window.

Thankfully my arms grab reflexively the second I hit any surface. I grip tightly to some kind of flimsy platform, and I hold on for dear life. I can’t see anything, can’t make sense of it, but I’m not falling - I’m being whipped around and am too terrified to make a sound, but I manage to hang on until the wind finally relents.

I’m gasping for air as I look up, towards the light of the room I was just in. It’s a good twenty feet above me now. I shiver in the dark, wondering what I’ve even landed on. It’s relatively stiff but quite thin even to me… oh, god. I’m hanging onto a leaf. There are vines that have scaled up the side of the cabin walls with large, bedsheet-sized leaves having grown firm with the season. That’s all that’s keeping me from plummeting to my death.

I have to climb up this vine, back up to the window. But I’m scared to budge, to do anything that will cause me to lose my grip. Fuck, fuck, what do I do?!

And then I hear voices. I didn’t notice them coming up the stairs while the wind was blowing at full force, but I can hear them now that they’re in the loft proper. One is Star, and she’s talking to someone, surely to Aiden. He’ll be looking for me, he’ll figure it out, he’ll find me out here, I just need to hang on–

“Oh jeez, it’s freezing!” Star complains, “Crap, we’ll need one of the guys to help close the window in your room.”

“I’ll at least close this one, hold on.”

My heart sinks. No, not Aiden. And the two girls might not know that I was still upstairs. They don’t know to look for me. But Camila said she was going to the window, she’s coming this way. I have to get her attention.

I see her silhouette looming behind the glass pane over my head. To these giants, I’m only a few inches away. I’m so close. Camila puts her hands on the edge of the window, but before she pushes down she takes a quick glance outside, up at the moon and then down… at me. Our eyes meet. I break into a relieved smile right as I shout, “Camil–”

The window slams shut. Her name dies in my throat. I stare wide-eyed, still cast in her shadow, as she locks the latch. She’s no longer looking at me. I could have sworn she saw me, but… Oh my god. What the fuck do I do now.

At this point I’m trembling from the effort of hanging on to this leaf. I have no choice anymore, I have to move before I lose my grip. Maybe I can still climb up the vine and start hitting the window. Aiden will be back eventually, he’ll find me. He has to.

I reach one arm out, up the long stem that attaches this leaf to its trunk. The tumultuous weather is making it exceedingly difficult, it takes several seconds for my fingertips to even touch the stem. But even when I reach it the wind is unrelenting, and I’m pummeled by another gust with the power of a hurricane. I watch in horror as the stem that I’m holding onto detaches from its anchor. The vertigo hits me with so much force that I’m unable to scream as I careen into the night.

Chapter 75
Aiden

“Has anyone seen Evie?”

I’m breathless from hurrying down the stairs and into the living room. Four pairs of eyes turn to me as everyone goes silent.

Star is the first to speak. “I hate that you just asked that question.”

Moira’s already on her feet and rushing over to me. She puts a hand on my elbow as she looks at me intently, keeping her voice calm and even to counter the panic that’s clearly rising in my chest.

“Where’s the last place you saw her?” she asks.

“I was just with her up in the loft, like, less than ten minutes ago,” I pant, “She wasn’t on the couch where I left her, but… I thought I just heard people on the stairs so…”

Everyone else is also standing and approaching at this point and Star says, “Yeah, Camila and I were up there just now. We didn’t see her. Figured she was with you, though, so we weren’t looking particularly close.”

“Maybe she’s still up there then?” Diego adds with a furrowed brow.

It feels like there’s a vice squeezing around my heart. It’s true that I didn’t search for very long when I went up and saw the couch was empty. I figured she must have left with someone, for whatever reason. But if that’s not the case, then my mind is jumping to worst case scenarios. If she was still in the loft, why didn’t she call out for me?

“O-okay, I’ll go back up,” I stutter, fighting a wave of dizziness.

Camila frowns and says, “She has to be up there. Can she even get down the stairs?”

I shake my head. “I don’t think so. At least, not that quickly.”

Diego starts glancing around the room. “We’ll take a look down here just in case she somehow hitched a ride.”

“What, hopped onto one of our shoes? Without us noticing?” Star asks incredulously.

“I dunno, maybe!”

“Why would she do that though…” I mutter, but I don’t linger here to chat about it - I’ve already turned to leave.

Moira’s on my tail. “I’m coming with you.”

“Alright. Um…” I take a pause right as I’m about to head out of sight, looking towards the rest of the group. “Everyone, just… watch your step.”

We hasten back up to the loft, scanning the stairs as we take them two or three at a time. And we begin the search.

Option one. Evie fell and hurt herself.

I look everywhere around the couch first - under it, behind it, circling the perimeter and eventually pulling back cushions. There’s a windowsill right next to the couch, a table alongside that, another window on the other side, and I search the floor diligently under any of these platforms that she could have reached. I even look a little further, around another chair that she miiiight have been able to get to if she jumped far enough. I don’t know why she would even risk that, but I look anyway. Nothing.

I do feel a modicum of relief at this. I was so terrified to find her tiny crumpled form on the floor, unconscious or worse. But her sheer absence is still wildly disconcerting.

Option two. Evie climbed down, possibly to get something.

I take a closer look at the couch to see if there are any loose threads or something that she might have used to get herself to the ground without falling. I don’t notice anything right away, all I find are her little jacket and minuscule socks. I try to remember what else she was wearing - could she have dropped something that bounced away, and then managed to climb down to fetch it? In my agitation my memories of the state of things right before I left her are a bit fuzzy.

This line of thinking widens my search to nearby structures that she’d be able to reach by walking. I call her name a few times as I look, but the futility of that is readily apparent.

She’d asked me to get her lip balm. That’s what had taken me so long, I wasn’t able to find it. Maybe she got tired of waiting for me? Could she have tried to borrow some from Moira, whose bed and belongings are up here? There are several bags close by, it’s not impossible that Evie got trapped in one of them. I let Mo search that while I head into Camila’s room to start searching the bags in there, eventually making it to the bathroom and sifting through some of the toiletries that are accessible from the floor. Nothing.

Option three. Something scared Evie and she’s hiding.

Could an animal have gotten into the house? I quickly decide that the odds of that are fairly slim. It’s dark out and all of the lights are on in the cabin, surely a deterrent for most critters. All the windows are closed downstairs. The only open window is the one that’s stuck open in Camila’s room, since it’s still as busted up as when I was wrenching at it yesterday. There aren’t any trees near that side of the cabin for some oddly behaving squirrel to jump from. I suppose a bird could have tried, but even if something was really determined to get in, the window is barely open at all, I don’t think even a sparrow would be able to squeeze through the gap.

A bug perhaps? While I’m not sure how likely it would be for a spider or roach to crawl in through the second-story window, and the house otherwise seems well sealed as we haven’t seen any insects in the cabin during our stay, I doubt that it’s foolproof. It’s certainly possible that some kind of large bug is lurking in one of these rooms and might have freaked little Evie out.

This gets me to start opening up cabinets and drawers. I get down low and try to imagine the world from her perspective, try to ask myself where I would hide if I was frightened at three inches tall. Within the folds of the shower curtain, inside a cupboard, behind lamp stands, under the beds, on top of luggage. Nothing.

Option four. Evie’s playing a prank on me.

This seems like the least likely of options, but after twenty minutes of nerve-wracking investigation, it briefly passes through my brain nevertheless. If she’s fully conscious, it’s just so weird that she hasn’t said anything. Unless she’s keeping quiet on purpose?

Moira’s downstairs now and I’m doing one last sweep up here before I stop and stand still in the center of the loft.

“Eve, please let this be a joke,” I say to the room desperately. “We always said that you’d be good at hide and seek. You win, okay?”

I wouldn’t even be mad at her if that’s all it took for her to show herself. I try to will her into existence, imagining her popping out from her hiding spot and calling to me with a giggle. But of course… no such luck.

Even though I can’t think of a plausible way she could have made it downstairs, I’m running out of ideas, so I join everyone else and start searching each room in turn. I look under every couch and chair. I search the pantry and kitchen floor for any recently dropped crumb trails. I’m sifting through baskets and bags and boxes. I closely examine her camp on the nightstand, trying to remember how I’d left it, though as far as I can tell it’s untouched.

Everyone else is diligently searching as well, moving cautiously from room to room, tiptoeing as their eyes scan the floor. It’s so bewildering that not only have none of us found her, we haven’t even found any sign of her. It’s like she vanished into thin air.

After over an hour of fruitless searching, I’m alone back up in the loft, feeling beside myself with worry. I take a second to sit down, on a couch opposite to the one that I had left her on. I sit and stare at the armrest where I last saw my precious little girlfriend.

Option five. Evie’s upset with me.

After tearing the place apart, it just makes no sense that none of us have found a single clue. Unless she was actively avoiding us by moving from one hiding place to another?

"Did I do something wrong, babe?” I ask softly into the air. Silence is my only answer.

Has she been suffering over something I wasn’t aware of? Did the Camila-related stresses get to her even more than I realized? Did I not do enough to make sure she felt secure and safe and loved and heard? Should I have insisted that we go straight home this afternoon? Or is it the opposite, did I overreact and it ended up frustrating her? Sometimes she still closes in on herself, sometimes she can still be hard to read, especially with how tiny her expressions are, how weak her voice is - maybe I missed something, maybe it was me. At this point I would rather it be that she’s avoiding me than any of the far worse alternatives.

“Please, Evie. Come back,” I say, my voice breaking. Tears blur up my vision and I drop my head to bury my face in my hands as I quietly sob, "Please, please be okay…”

I cry uncontrollably for the next minute or so, dangerously close to coming completely undone. I just don’t know what to do anymore. All my brain is giving me are new and horrific ideas on what could have happened to her. I’m getting eaten alive by despair.

It’s the sound of the staircase creaking that gets me to go silent. I rub at my eyes and take a deep breath before looking up at whoever’s come up to join me.

It’s Camila. Her posture is meek and tense, her expression hesitant. Her dark eyes meet mine, and she sighs as she walks over.

“Oh, Aiden…” she says quietly, “I’m so sorry. You must be so stressed out…”

I stiffen as she approaches, but I let her hug me. She sits down on top of the armrest right next to me and wraps her arms around my neck. I take in the little comfort I can get from this, silently letting it happen. I don’t feel motivated enough to fight it.

That is, until she slips down onto the couch proper after a minute, so that she’s sitting right at my side. She extends the supportive embrace by taking my arm in hers and leaning her head onto my shoulder. Something about it makes me naturally recoil - it feels too much like last night when she got drunk. And when I glance at her face and notice her expression looking far too serene, a spark of anger flashes inside me. Her advances suddenly don’t feel like they come from someone who’s just trying to comfort a friend… but rather someone who’s trying to take advantage of the situation.

I pull my arm away from her and give her a dark look. “Seriously, Camila? Seriously?”

Her jaw clenches and she stutters, “I-I’m just trying to–”

“Save it,” I snap, getting to my feet. “I can’t deal with you right now. In fact…”

I pause and go still as I glare at her. My exhausted mind starts working. I’ve been desperate and confused ever since my partner’s disappearance. But maybe this should have been obvious from the start. Maybe all of the answers are staring me in the face.

Option six. Someone else is responsible for Evie’s absence.

There’s hardly any emotion in my voice at all as I lock eyes with Camila and confront her. “You were up here, right? Just before she disappeared.”

She holds my gaze for several long seconds and extrapolates from my accusatory look. “You’re implying I have something to do with this?” she asks, eyes narrowing. “You seriously think I would do that?”

I speak quietly, tensely. “You’ve had it out for her from day one. You’ve said things I didn’t know you were capable of saying. I don’t know what you’re capable of anymore.”

She’s the one who ups the volume as she abruptly gets to her feet. “Aiden, that’s ridiculous! I would never do anything to hurt someone.”

“You already have. Can’t you see that?” I say with growing agitation. “How can you not realize how shitty you’ve been to Evie? You can’t blame me for getting suspicious at this point!"

Her shoulders move up and down with her breath as she gets more and more riled up. She’s glaring at me with intensity as a thousand thoughts seem to pass through her mind. Finally she snarls, “I don’t know what she told you, but I didn’t lay a hand on her in the kitchen. I didn’t do anything!”

I fall into stunned silence for a second. “The kitchen?” I ask, “What are you talking about?”

Camila stiffens and doesn’t respond, looking down at her boots. My heart is racing. Did something happen that Evie didn’t tell me about? What the hell is going on?

“What happened, Camila?” I insist, taking a step towards her. “When was this? What did you do?!”

“Nothing!” she protests, “We just… we just had an argument. I didn’t say anything I hadn’t already said.”

I throw my arm out, my voice edging towards unhinged. “Oh, you mean about how you think she’s a freak? A charity case? That I’m better off without her? All of that is ‘nothing’?!”

“See, this is exactly what–” she stops herself, shutting her mouth forcefully. I can see it in her eyes, I know what she was about to get at. The fact that Evie is missing is proving Camila’s point from earlier about my relationship causing me stress. But she has enough wisdom not to say it out loud right now.

“Aiden, I don’t think it was her,” a soft voice interjects. I whip around to see Moira reaching the top of the stairs, looking weary. “She was with us all evening, aside from grabbing something from her room. Star had eyes on Camila the whole time they were up here.”

Star’s coming up behind her, nodding forlornly in confirmation. Diego’s there too, and he doesn’t say anything, looking conflicted about the way I was just accusing his cousin. Moira herself seems uncomfortable in coming to Camila’s defense, but she’s looking at me with pleading eyes.

“Then where is she?!” I exclaim desperately. “For fuck’s sake, she could be dead right now!”

Moira flinches at that, tears springing up from the suggestion. Subconsciously I know I’m just making things worse. I’m too distraught to think properly. Suddenly Diego steps around the two girls, marching right up to me. I reflexively recoil, but he grabs my shoulders.

“Bro. Look at me.” He leans down to make firm eye contact as he turns me to face him, fingers digging into my arms. “We’re gonna find her. Okay?”

I waver on the spot, and he pulls me into a tight hug. At first I’m still incredibly tense. But as I try to catch my breath and the despair seeps back in to replace the anger, I end up letting my head hang, leaning it against his chest. For a moment it’s like I’m seven years old again, crying and being held by my best friend on the school playground after I’d just found out my family dog died. No matter how many years have passed, Diego’s still the same supportive guy.

And the embrace is helping me come back to my senses. Because unlike when I was seven, I’m not surrounded by the other kids from the military base, sniggering and pointing as they tossed out homophobic slurs. Instead I’m with people who care about me. And they care about Evie too. I’m still not completely convinced of Camila’s innocence, but I definitely shouldn’t be lashing out at my friends. I need to pull myself together.

I look up at Diego and give him a grateful nod when he lets go of me. I take one long, shuddering breath in as Moira steps forward too.

“Could she have gotten outside?” she suggests quietly.

I manage to make my tone calmer this time. “I’ve thought about that… God, I hope not, but I guess anything’s possible at this point. But why? And how? All of the doors are locked shut. The only open window is the broken one in Camila’s room. And even if she wanted to, Evie would have had no way to get up to that windowsill.”

Diego’s eyes sweep the room. “Show us exactly where she was when you left.”

With a sigh I walk over to the couch by the wall and point. “Here. Right here. She was sitting on the armrest.”

From my new vantage point, I notice Camila reacting subtly. She had stepped off to the side in brooding silence when the other three showed up, hugging her arms around herself as she stared at the floor. But she looks up towards me now, suddenly frowning and growing a shade paler.

“Wait,” she says softly. “That’s the couch you guys were at? By… by that window?”

“Yeah,” I respond, keeping my eyes fixed now as I try to get a read on her. “But again, these windows are shut…”

“Actually… um.” Camila stutters. She’s now locking eyes with Star, who has also gone wide-eyed in sudden realization. “About that…”

Chapter 75
Evie

“Oof–”

The wind is knocked out of me as something punches me hard in the abdomen. I cough and gasp for air. I’m sure that rib is damaged, possibly even broken. But by some miracle I’m alive.

The impact has knocked me silly, and it’s only when I realize that I’m slipping off of whatever I’ve landed on that I scramble to grab hold. I hoist myself up onto a sturdier platform than the leaf I was just clinging to - this one is made of rough wood. It’s so dark that I can’t make sense of where I am, but I use my hands to feel my way. One side of the horizontal pillar I’m on is getting narrower, and the other side is getting wider. I make my way to the wider side, hurrying on my hands and knees as I’m desperate to find a stable spot.

Before I realize it, I crash into a wall head first. I curse with the pain, seeing stars for a second. But the wind doesn’t feel quite as vicious in this particular spot, the wall is protecting me for now. I take a dizzied look around myself, trying to make sense of where I ended up as my eyes adjust to the darkness.

There’s the cabin. It’s lit up on the inside so the sight of it is clear as day. It’s so far away… Almost half a mile to me. I must have gone for a ride on that leaf as if it was a runaway paraglider. Which means I’m in the forest? Yes, I… I’m on a tree branch… I’m… I’m hundreds of feet up… in a fucking tree.

“Ohmygod, ohmygod, ohmygod,” I whisper to myself. I’m so close to hyperventilating. I cling to the branch I’m perched on, pressing myself against the tree trunk. One wrong move and I really might plummet to my doom this time. “I’m dead, I’m dead, I’m so dead…”

The horrid gales change direction, reaching me now. I hunker down, holding tightly to the branch. It’s swaying, as are so many other branches around me. It’s a nightmare of movement all around as the trees are buffeted by the wind storm.

I squeeze my eyes shut, burying my face in my arms as I wait this out. God, it’s so cold. I don’t have my coat, I’m not even wearing shoes. And it’s loud. There’s the creaking of wood, the occasional snap of a branch that echoes like thunder, making me feel like I might get crushed at any second. Not to mention the terrifying knowledge that the ground is impossibly far away, waiting for me to meet it the second I slip.

This is hell. I’m in hell.

Think, I tell myself in the darkness behind my eyelids. How do I survive this? What can I possibly do?

I should count myself lucky that I was carried somewhere instead of falling straight down. I’m not where I want to be, but at least I’m not a mangled corpse on the ground. At least, not yet. I just… have to… make my way back. I have to climb down this tree. And walk back to the cabin. That’s the only choice, right? I can’t expect that my friends are going to find me here. I’m too small and too far away. I have to go back to them.

The wind dies down again and I peek over the edge of my arm, trying to get a sense of just how high up I am. It’s too dark and crowded with foliage to make out the ground. Not a good sign. But if I look out to the cabin, try to figure out how high I am in comparison to it… I’m level with a spot that’s somewhere between a first story and second story window. That’s over ten feet. Which to me is closer to 250 feet, straight down. I might as well be trying to climb down a clock tower without a harness. It feels impossible.

Carefully I try to form any kind of path down this cliff in my mind. Can I use the gnarled texture of the tree trunk for handholds? There’s another branch below me, just six or seven feet away at my scale. Let’s just… start there.

I shift over, pressing myself against the wall of the tree trunk, and tentatively stretch one leg out. My toes curl into the rough bark of the tree and, after several seconds of having to convince myself to move, I slide off the branch to begin the descent. My arms are already shaking from the cold and from the adrenaline. I cry out the second all of my weight is off the branch - the pain in my ribs from my crash landing is sharp and insistent. Especially when I’m halfway down to the next branch and I almost fall from another errant gust. I have to stop and hang on desperately and I very nearly lose my grip.

I’m whimpering by the time I make it. I’ve only traversed a few inches and I’m in agony. It’s so hard to see in the darkness or to move in the wind. There’s just no way. I’m not going to make it.

I spend several minutes looking down, trying to solve this impossible conundrum. Could I construct some kind of climbing gear from… something? Or at least make myself a parachute out of leaves? Or find a way to connect individual branches and form a path that way? It all feels so ridiculous. I’m completely losing hope.

Finally I decide to look upwards instead. It doesn’t seem like a productive thing to do, but I just have to look at something else for a second. And that’s when I see it. Off to the side, about thirty feet above me, I notice a small cave in the wood. A tree hollow.

Maybe there is another choice. Reach shelter. Wait out the storm. If I can get through the night, survive until morning when things are forecasted to be much calmer… Maybe in the light of day I’ll be able to find my way down and have a better chance of not getting knocked off.

Of course, that means I would have to climb even higher first. But as difficult as that seems, climbing up the shorter distance seems like the smarter thing to do. The only thing to do. I just have to keep moving. I can’t overthink things right now, my aching muscles have a time limit.

The journey takes me over half an hour. I almost lose my grip over a dozen times. My abdomen is screaming at me every time I hoist myself up and up along the tree trunk. My arms and legs are getting all scratched up, my hands and feet are going numb from the cold. I’m about two thirds of the way up when I break down into panicked cries, exhausted and completely convinced that there’s no way I’m going to reach my destination. But after an uncontrollable yet completely useless pity party, I eventually press on. And somehow, despite everything working against me… I make it. I reach the hollow and collapse into it. I’m a complete mess, trembling and weeping, but I’m still alive.

Oh thank god - whatever squirrel last used this spot as a nest has left behind clumps of fur. It’s old and there’s not much left, but I immediately burrow into it, covering myself in leaves and pine needles and fuzz. It helps, a little bit. But… it’s only a very little bit. The wind is still thrashing outside, and the temperature slowly continues to drop.

Several minutes later, I’m shivering more than ever. And I realize something dire. This isn’t sustainable. I’m losing more heat than I’m producing. Even if I don’t fall to my death tonight, I may instead get claimed by hypothermia. I have to do something about it.

I try to think about my long-ago college classes, racking my brain for any useful knowledge about heat transfer. I was supposed to take an entire heat transfer class at some point, too bad I never got there… The only thing that comes to mind is insulation. I need to think like a squirrel. And I need to make myself a better nest.

Well, if there’s one thing I can find close by it’s leaves. I hate the idea of venturing back out onto the tree branches, but I simply don’t have a choice. I’m convinced that I won’t be lasting the night otherwise.

I peer out of the hollow, and I can actually see a bit better now that I’ve gotten so used to the dark. It’s slightly brighter out here due to the lights coming from inside the cabin. I wait for a moment where the winds aren’t so tempestuous, and then I dart out. I try to move quickly but not recklessly. There are enough leaves and fallen pine needles in my immediate vicinity that I make swift progress, as tiring as it is to hoist what feels like oversized pool toys. At least it’s easier to move along the horizontal perch than it was to climb up the tree trunk. Over time I need to start venturing slightly further along the branch, each trip providing less and less success.

Out of nowhere I’m startled by a sudden light. I freeze in place like a rabbit, staring towards the cabin. The front porch light just turned on. And someone’s rushing out. First he’s peering his head out, and I can’t make out what he’s saying but his mouth is moving. Then he’s stepping outside, head whipping around as he scans the ground. Aiden’s looking for me. He must have realized that I’m out here!

Logic flies out the window. I start yelling at the top of my lungs, waving my hands, grabbing a nearby branch and shaking it - anything to get his attention. At first I’m just calling Aiden’s name, but as he ventures further onto the porch and more people start trickling out, I’m shouting the rest of their names for good measure.

“Behind you!” I cry, “Look up! Please, just look HERE!”

It’s useless. It’s so completely useless.

“FUUUUUCK!” I scream into the night, falling to my knees as despair rolls over me. The universe is just mocking me now. Fuck you, world. Fuck. You.

My throat is searing with pain at this point, but despite using everything in my power to make them notice me, all I’m doing is wearing myself out. I can barely make out the sound of their voices over the wind, they’re just too far away. Maybe I’d have a chance if they get closer, but… why on earth would they do that? Why would they assume that I’m as far as the tree line? In fact - yeah, Aiden’s making his way along the exterior wall of the cabin, still scanning the ground but hurrying directly towards the space under the loft. Of course he is. If they figured out that I fell out of the window, the assumption would be that I’m near said window. If only I’d gotten a better grip on that vine instead of soaring off into the woods…

I watch them for much longer than I should as I crouch down in the entrance of my meager shelter. They’re right there. They’re searching so desperately, it feels like they have to find me eventually. Star’s on her hands and knees, sifting through the grass and bushes on the ground. Diego’s giving Aiden a boost, hoisting him up to stand on his shoulders and get a closer look at the wall that’s near the window. I notice Moira’s silhouette is in the window itself - I’m guessing that’s where they all started looking before some of them branched off to go outdoors. I feel nervous for her, seeing how far she’s leaning out to be able to reach some of the vines. Camila shows up to join the rest on the ground, wearing warmer clothes and carrying several other coats and hats for the others to bundle up.

But they’re still too far. Even if they search all night, the odds that they’ll find me are so slim. It’s agonizing, but… I eventually realize that I have to stick to my original plan. With a clear view of my panicked friends to keep me company, I force myself to continue harvesting leaves.

Soon enough I’m starting to run out of material that’s in the vicinity. I could risk climbing to a different branch to get more, but it feels so dangerous - I’ve already come close to toppling off of this one several times. And at this point the hollow is mostly full anyway. Honestly, it’s this damn wind that’s the problem. Already a few leaves have escaped my little den, snatched right out of my hands by a vicious gust of air. I’m starting to worry that this shelter isn’t quite as dependable as I’d hoped.

I do what I think is my last run, scrounging up whatever remaining pine needles have gotten caught towards the end of the branch. But on my way back, something well above my head catches my eye. Even though I’m currently in what I think is an oak tree based on the shape of the leaves, there’s also a pine tree looming nearby like a cliff overhang, which is where all the pine needles must have come from. At some point it must have dropped a sizeable pinecone too, which is now perched precariously on a thin branch about fifteen feet up. When I scramble back into the hollow, my mind is very preoccupied. Because you know what might provide extra insulation while also protecting my tree cave from raging winds? A door.

I sit there for a while, trying to think about how I might possibly acquire the pinecone. I just wish I had better tools up here. If I at least had some kind of rope…

I look over the random assortment of junk that I’ve gathered into my cave. I briefly consider tying pine needles together, but when I try I’m unable to get the knots tight enough. It’s even worse with leaf stems. Maybe I could take some of these bits of broken twigs and acorns and try to just throw them at the pinecone to knock it down?

But then I’m looking at myself. Even in the dim light I can tell that the tips of my fingers and toes are bright pink from how cold I am. I don’t have a hat or gloves or a scarf, just some loose pants and a lightweight sweater that I’d crocheted. But that’s when I get a thought. I hate this idea, I’m not sure that it’s worth it but… I do have a form of rope at my disposal. I could start unraveling my sweater.

As I’m debating whether it’s worth making myself colder to get access to the thread, the universe taunts me again by sending a particularly nasty gust my way. It makes a branch snap somewhere nearby, and it sucks out a few leaves that are too close to the entrance. Things aren’t going to get any better - I need to act. I can bundle squirrel fur back around my torso later. It’s time to reveal some midriff.

I find the knotted end of the fine yarn at the hem of my top, and for a moment I fumble at it with numb fingers, until I give up and use my teeth. Eventually I rip into it, and from there I’m tugging at the thread, and it comes away easily, erasing hours of crochet work in seconds. I wind my arms around and around my abdomen, the garment becoming shorter and shorter. As soon as a sliver of skin is revealed I’m starting to regret this as I feel more precious heat escaping my body. But I push through, gauging how long my rope is and continuing to lengthen it until my sweater only reaches my ribs. I use my teeth again to saw off the string and try to retain whatever garment is left by tying off the end.

I loop my rope up into my hands as I think through the next step. I could try to form a lasso? Not sure how good I’d be at attempting fancy ropework in this windstorm, though. So ultimately I decide to tie the end of the thread to a broken piece of twig, figuring it would be easier to throw.

Shivering more than ever, I crawl back out into the open, face aimed high as I scuttle along the branch. Pinecone’s still there. I try to calculate in my head the best angle to approach this from and position myself accordingly. I have to hunker down for a while, grabbing onto a shoot that’s coming off of the main branch, while I hold out for the right moment to strike.

As I wait, laying almost flat against my swaying platform, I look over to my friends. All of them are searching low to the ground now, meticulously parsing through grass and foliage with the flashlights from their phones. They’re dramatically expanding the radius of their investigation, as I’m sure they’re figuring I could have been knocked farther by the wind, but it’s still nowhere remotely close to where I am, and none of them are looking upwards. Still, they’re putting so much effort into finding me. I have to do the same.

Between flurries of wind I make my attempts. Like a shot putter, I pull back my arm near my head and then launch my projectile as hard as I can. The first dozen attempts miss completely. And then finally the broken twig I’m throwing bounces off the top of the pinecone and tumbles to the other side. I yank on it and let out a victorious shout as the thread gets tangled in the pinecone’s scales.

And then I almost die.

I’m such an idiot, I should have just tied down the other end of the rope, to make sure I didn’t drop it if nothing else. But instead what happens is that the second I try to pull the pinecone towards me, I lose my balance on the unstable branch. My stomach lurches as I fall forward, my rope slipping between my fingers for a second before I cling to it in a panic. And I’m dangling in the open air now, below the branch I was just standing on, only being held by a pinecone that’s teetering on its perch, dangerously high above me.

“Fuck… this… shit…” I gasp, and I’m already looking around myself for any kind of solution. At first I try to scramble back up the rope, but I’m slipping, my fingers aren’t strong enough. I’m going to fall off before I get up. The only reason I haven’t fallen quite yet despite the potential injury in my abdomen is sheer adrenaline and many months of practice at being this size. I pause and try to think…. Think… Come on…

The unrelenting winds attack me with a vengeance. I’m whipped so hard to the side that it feels like my arms will get ripped out of their sockets, and I almost crash into the trunk of the tree.

Wait, I think as I swing back the other way, curled up in a ball like a pill bug. Actually… that can work. There’s no way I can scale the length of this rope right now. But maybe if I used momentum…

Moving quickly, I first carefully use my legs to thread the leftover rope that’s dangling between them, and I hook it around one of my thighs. I take a chance by sitting back on the rope a little bit as I raise my ankle to lift the slackened thread up. Moving as quickly as possible, I hold on tight with one hand while I use the other one to snatch at the loose end of the rope, and then I’m immediately gripping the main line with both hands again, gasping with fear. I clumsily use my teeth and my fingertips to make a simple knot, and I now have a loop to sit on instead of just depending on my arms as I dangle. This is still incredibly precarious - I’m gripping both ropes together for dear life, not daring to rely on my shoddy knot alone.

I begin to swing. I don’t even think about how this might knock the pinecone off, it’s a risk I have to take. It’s actually not that difficult to gain momentum, the goddamn wind is seeing to that. The tricky part is aiming. I lurch towards the trunk without quite reaching, once… twice… And then I’m pushed towards it with so much speed that I’m certain the impact will ruin me – at the last second I twist and loosen my grip instinctively and I sail upwards, past the home branch–

And straight through the entrance of the tree hollow. I crash and roll, the impact mollified by the nest that I’ve built. I’m in so much pain. But I’m incredibly lucky to have made it.

I’m still holding the end of my thread, and there’s no way I’m giving up on that pinecone after all that. I do what I should have done from the start and stay safely inside my tree cave, bracing my feet against the edge of the entrance and pulling with all my might - which isn’t saying much at this point. The pinecone is eventually dislodged from its perch and drops down in front of me, onto the branch, and thankfully it’s light enough that I can drag it the rest of the way without too much issue.

I glance one last time at my friend group, completely ignorant of what I just went through. I stare at Aiden’s profile as he gets to his feet to look up ahead of him, looking crestfallen and desperate. Tears well up in my eyes, and then I yank onto the pinecone to wedge it inside the entryway as much as possible.

I use leaves to stuff the empty spaces around my new door, and with this added layer of insulation it’s quieter now. It’s darker, too. I feel around blindly as I push myself under the remaining layers of leaves, bundling up my rope against my stomach in a meager attempt to patch up my sweater, and burrowing into the squirrel fur as much as I can.

My muscles give out. Everything hurts. I can feel my scar on the back of my calf throbbing from the bitter chill. I’m still so cold. Am I going to survive the night?

I squeeze my eyes shut and reach for my old mantra. Don’t give up. Fight back. Work harder.

I wince at the sharp pain in my ribs. They feel worse than ever after my most recent fall. Will I even be able to climb down come morning if they’re broken?

Don’t give up… Fight back… Work harder…

I start wrapping my extra thread around my hands and feet to protect the extremities that have gone completely numb. It feels pointless.

Don’t give up… Don’t…

I just want to see him. I just want him to hold me again. Please.

Don’t…