Best posts made by littlest-lily

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.

@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 55
Aiden

I’m in heaven right now.

The day didn’t start out so great. I almost got hit by a car this morning while crossing the street, and then I had a really rough day at work, so I was a bundle of nerves when I got home. But Evie has helped all of those layers of stress just melt away. She gave me a particularly sweet love note that she’d folded up into a heart-shaped origami, we’ve had a simple oven-baked meal, I’ve showered and freshened up, we talked for a good long while and… now we’re making out on the couch. Like I said, heaven.

I’m splayed out on my front, elbows propping me up and feet hanging over one side of the couch, while my girlfriend’s sitting on the armrest on the other side. I can’t imagine what it’s like for her, but the feeling of her warm, delicate little body against my mouth is like nothing else. I’ve been mostly focusing on kissing her torso as I tilt my head to the side, so that her face is still in my line of vision just past my cheek. But she’s determined to lean in, out of sight, and press her tiny lips against mine time and time again, so I frequently let my eyes close and just focus on the physical sensations. There’s the dip of her waist… that’s her entire forearm gently pushing against my upper lip… oh, yup, those are her boobs… Fuuuuuck yes.

At one point Evie lays back on the armrest to catch her breath, and we share a quiet laugh as I relent and force my mouth to give it a rest. She sighs happily and says, “If anyone had told me how much I would enjoy being kissed by a giant man, there’s no way I would’ve believed it.”

I chuckle and nudge her leg with my nose. “It’s less of a surprise to me, that I enjoy this, but still… I guess we lucked out.”

She sits up high enough to kiss the tip of my nose, and then I pull back far enough to get a good look at her. Really take her in. She had been absently braiding a few strands of her hair while we were chatting earlier, and now they’ve mostly unraveled but add a few waves to the chestnut brown locks. She’s wearing a dark blue dress that looks cozy in the way it drapes over her body, and for the first time I notice some kind of tiny gold embroidery that lines the hem. Her miniscule cheeks are flush with a soft pink. She’s biting the very edge of her smile. So many beautiful details.

I also notice the look in her eyes. I melt at the sight of my adoration reflected back at me through her own lens. But there’s also something else there… a sadness? A pain of some kind? I’m not sure.

“You okay?” I ask softly.

She blinks and perks up. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

I arch an eyebrow at her. “You know that response has become a bit of a red flag for me, yeah? It’s like… the opposite of the boy who cried wolf.”

She laughs, and it sounds genuine enough that I feel a modicum of relief. “I get that,” she says with a nod, “I know I’m still working on expressing everything… But I promise there’s no wolf. I really am fine - great, even. I just…” She pauses for several seconds, deliberating before she simply says, “I just want you.”

Aww. I give her a wide, loving smile. “Well, you’re in luck. I’m all yours.”

“Aiden…” Evie bites her lip again, and that look in her eyes returns. A yearning, I realize. Her voice comes out with a sigh, “I really. Really. Want you.”

It takes me a second to get the true implication here. I suddenly see the blush on her face in a new light. I had already started feeling a tightness in my pants a long time ago, but this is the first time that I’m seeing clear signs of a similar level of desire on her part. My pulse quickens and causes a short circuit in my brain.

My girlfriend’s vulnerability catches up with her and her skin flushes a shade pinker. “I’ve honestly been really distracted lately, I’ve been thinking about this a lot. B-but I’m not sure exactly what it would… entail,” she stutters. “I don’t… suppose… you have any ideas?”

I start pushing myself up into a sitting position, trying to stay as calm as possible. “Sorta,” I mumble, “Um. How about we just…” I make sure my hands aren’t shaking before I reach up to her. “…meander to the bedroom and…” I maneuver my fingers under her body. “…see where things lead?”

Despite both of us clearly being flustered, I still manage a gentle smile and a tender kiss on her forehead once I’ve lifted her up. This gesture is so easy for me now, I don’t even have to think at all about aiming when I kiss her. She might as well be an extension of my hand.

Okay. I need to be really careful here. I can’t let myself get too excited. I don’t want to pressure her and, depending on where things go, I especially don’t want to hurt her. Honestly, the thought of my wild fantasies coming true in any capacity is freaking me out a lot more than I thought it would. I’m still haunted by some of the trials we’ve been through - like my unconscious assault, or that night on Diego’s birthday when she was forcing herself into a sexual situation just to please me. That’s probably why I haven’t made any moves myself yet. She might look eager now, but I want to be particularly careful about not pushing her past her comfort level. I set my expectations very low as I walk over to my bed.

Holding Evie aloft, I carefully climb onto the mattress and lower my head to the pillow. Then I set her down on it too, a few inches in front of my face. She turns towards me onto her side, propping her head up with an arm and attempting a playful smile. We’re not any closer than we were a minute ago, but the fact that we’re in bed together like this is creating a whole different atmosphere.

“Obviously you can’t… um… fit,” she says nervously, fiddling with a fold in the fabric. “I’m just really worried that there’s not much I can do for you.”

I take a deep breath in. “Trust me, there’s plenty you can do for me,” I respond quietly, “But let’s take things slow. I don’t want to overwhelm you.”

Evie searches my face, her eyes roaming what must be a vast distance from the top of my head to the base of my neck. Her voice is a little weak but still determined. “I just want to know, even if we don’t do it now. How? How can I make you feel good? I can try and like… massage it? But it would hardly be anything to you…”

My stomach is doing somersaults at this point. “Trust me,” I repeat, “That would feel amazing to me. This is part of my kink, remember? I’m… I’m excited just thinking about it.” My mouth feels dry so I close it and swallow before I try to speak again. “But there are plenty of other sensitive spots. Plus, touching you already does so much for me.”

Latching on to one particular detail, my little partner smirks as her eyes light up. “Sensitive spots? Like what?”

“That’s… classified,” I mumble.

“You’re really nervous too, aren’t you?”

“Of course I am. Just because I’ve imagined this kind of thing doesn’t mean I have all the answers. I don’t want to hurt you by accident… Honestly, the idea of you going anywhere down there kinda stresses me out right now.”

She ponders this for a moment and then reaches both arms out towards me. Knowing what she wants from the way she aims lower than my face, I slide a hand into the space between us and offer her my index finger. She takes it in her arms, kissing it a couple of times before holding it against her. She tucks her knees around each side of the digit too and I vaguely wonder if this makes me the little spoon.

“At the risk of sounding selfish…” she says, “Would you rather we just focus on me then? For this time at least?”

I immediately nod with relief. “Yes. I would. If that’s okay with you? I want to make sure you’re not forcing yourself this time, are you sure you’re ready to explore this?”

“A thousand percent. My past relationship with sex is complicated, it was super unhealthy with my first ex, but I did a whole lot of healing with my second one. I promise you, I want this. I’ll let you know if anything’s wrong.”

“Alright… Maybe we should use a safe word, just in case? Of course I’ll stop if you tell me to stop, but if for any reason that’s too hard to say, maybe we could…”

“Yeah okay, that’s a good idea. I’ve used the traffic light method before. Green light meaning all good, yellow is slow down and evaluate, red is stop everything.”

“Got it. No problem.”

“I’ll be surprised if we need it though… We both know you can touch me anywhere and it’ll feel great.” The longer we talk like this, the more we’re starting to loosen up, just a bit. Evie’s smirk is veering more towards seductive. “Noticed where any of my sensitive spots are?”

“Mmmm… right here?” I suggest. I keep my forefinger in place and use my middle finger to brush against a spot near her waist. “I’ve noticed that when I pass over your ribs you tend to…”

She shudders, and it’s the exact reaction I was looking for. I’m laying so close to her that I can actually make out the near microscopic goosebumps on her arms. Her pleasure is entrancing.

“Uh-huh. You’d guess right,” she sighs, “The entire sides of my torso are actually pretty sensitive.” The next sound she makes is a frustrated groan. “God, Aidennn… I’m so attracted to you…”

“Ditto,” I mutter with a matching sigh.

“You’re attracted to you too?” she giggles. I smile but I figure she’s just being silly and nervous and she doesn’t actually expect a response. Evie slowly unravels herself from my finger and flops onto her back, her face still in my direction. “I can’t stop thinking about when we went swimming yesterday… When I got to see a little… more of you.”

Well then, she’s just taking all of the steps forward, isn’t she? I grin at the implied request and lift my head up from the pillow, cautious about not destabilizing her. Then I sit up sharply and promptly take my shirt off.

“You mean like this?” I say, tossing the garment off the side of the bed. Evie’s blinking up at me wide-eyed, looking a little overwhelmed by how quickly I’ve moved, and then she takes me in hungrily. I go for a playful looming, propping my hands by either side of the pillow so that I can look straight down at my little one from above. This slightly dominant gesture is making me ache longingly from the inside out.

She’s laying on her back and I can’t help but notice that one of her hands is drifting over a spot just below her stomach. In fact… it looks like she might be thumbing the waistband of her shorts through her dress…

She’s trying to give me a frisky smile in return, though she’s a bit too overcome to manage it. Her voice is a little weak but I still catch it when she says, “Man… I need to remember to thank Diego for dragging you to the gym so often."

I laugh. “Please don’t. He already mocks me relentlessly for not being able to put on nearly as much muscle as he does.”

“Well, lucky for me, I prefer your tone to his bulk,” Evie chirps, and I swear she’s started pressing her legs together under that dress… subtly moving them this way and that… The fact that I’m intentionally towering over her like this is definitely enough to feed my own arousal, but apparently I’m not the only one affected. Damn, she just looks so adorable down there.

A few moments later, the tiny woman reaches an arm out to pat the space that’s next to her. “Okay, okay, I’ve done enough staring… Can you come back?”

I close back in, swooping down to lay my face alongside her again, and the weight of my head causes her body to rise as the pillow buckles. It was such a small gesture for me and yet enough to make her lose her balance… She’s just so little. So delicate and enticing. As she lays on her side, the ups and downs of the hills of her body call out to me. I just want to touch her again, so my hand sneaks in from behind and I explore the miniscule bumps of her neck and shoulders as we gaze into each other’s eyes.

“I can’t stop staring either,” I say wistfully.

Evie’s muscles stiffen a little bit and she mumbles, “I guess it’s only fair if I…” Her hands drift down and gather up the hem of her dress, which started just over her knees. It’s now slowly crawling up higher as she tugs at it.

She freezes then, hesitating. Her jaw tightens and her gaze droops lower as the seconds drag. I get it - this is a big step. I lift my head up just enough to slide my face towards her, pressing my lips against her forehead.

“No pressure, sweet girl," I say soothingly, “Only whatever you’re comfortable with.” I shift back but am still only inches away, and it suddenly strikes me just how big and prying my eyes might look to her. “Am I too close?"

“No," she says quickly. “I want you to be close… I really want to do this.”

I’ve seen her naked before. It was just for a split second, an accident, and it was immediately followed by her distress as she tried to cover up. I now experience the exact opposite end of the spectrum. Evie’s movements are slow and deliberate as she pulls her dress up higher and reveals more and more thigh. She’s wearing shorts underneath, black and form fitting, accentuating the length of her graceful, slender legs. Her hips transition into her waist as she uncovers her abdomen. And then with one smooth, lightly undulating motion she pulls the dress right over the top of her head. For a second my eyes dart straight to her breasts, spectacularly bare, modest in size and perfect in shape. Then as she slips off the garment I see her face again, flush, her hair tumbling over her shoulders, framing the dainty shape of her body with the slightest unkempt flair.

She’s so close to me. I’m suddenly seeing that much more of her skin and it’s all right in front of my face. It hardly seems fair that I can take in so much of her from such close proximity. My shrunken partner lets her dress fall to the side and for a second she just looks up at me as if awaiting judgment with bated breath. But then she sees my expression and reacts with a heart-melting little giggle. She puts her hands out in front of her like she’s warming herself by a campfire.

“I think I can feel the heat coming off your face from here,” she remarks teasingly.

I open my mouth a couple of times, trying to think with my brain for a second. Finally I manage to whisper, “You’re just so gorgeous, Eve… I just… You’re… I mean…” I pause with a slight shake of the head. “Words are hard.”

She smiles and sits up a little straighter on the pillow, pivoting her lower half so that her legs are folded beside her. Between her posture and the way her hair spills over the curves of her body, she looks like a tiny mermaid.

“I used to feel a bit more confident in how I look," she says with a waver to her voice, "I just can’t shake the feeling that I don’t have much to offer. Like, literally.”

“It is… so much. Seriously. I feel like I’m falling in love all over again.”

We’ve gone back to simply gazing at each other. My hand is still close by, hovering just behind her back. But I can’t get myself to make contact this time. It just seems too risky, somehow. She’s just so exposed, and combined with her nervous expression it makes her look oddly helpless. It’s like I’m afraid of breaking her, as if she was made of glass.

I notice a shivering in Evie’s body. In response, I open my mouth to gently breathe on her. The warm air is enough to cause a flutter in her hair and a relaxing of her muscles. She lets out a quiet, wistful moan.

“Don’t you want to touch me?" she asks, eyes widening into a slight pout.

“Absolutely," I say, “I just, um… you sure? You… have this look on your face, I want to make sure you’re still okay…”

Her expression shifts, eyebrows curving and smile widening. “Thanks… I appreciate you being so considerate with all this. Yeah, I guess I’m a little scared, it’s kind of a vulnerable moment for me. But that doesn’t make you any less desirable. I still absolutely want this.”

Evie slides out an arm so that she can gracefully lower herself back onto her side, her eyes never leaving mine. She’s started pressing her legs together again, twisting them against each other.

“Even though you’re lying down like this, you’re just… towering over me, it’s… it’s honestly…”

And now her hand is slipping right under the waistband of her shorts, almost as if she doesn’t realize it. My heart is hammering away as I recognize every last indication of lust in her expression and in her stance. And I’m surprised that she’s emphasizing the difference in scale, just enticing me all the more. My hormones and her size are calling out the primal part of my brain that wants to claim this beautiful little creature as my own. Which doesn’t seem so wrong… since she wants me too.

“S-sorry,” she suddenly says, as if now realizing where her hand has gone to, “I guess I really am just focusing on me.”

“Don’t apologize,” I respond softly, “If it makes you feel any better, I’m doing the exact same thing as you right now.”

She raises her eyebrows and looks down, along the length of my body. My own waistline is quite a distance away, but she must have seen it for herself as she looks back up at me and seems enlivened. She lets out a small gasp and her voice is tight. “That’s… actually really hot.”

“Okay, good. Because honestly, watching you do that is, um…”

I trail off as Evie closes her eyes for a few seconds, and at first I just think she’s overcome with arousal, but then I notice her little brow is furrowing with actual discomfort. Her whole body tenses, her eyes fly open and she says urgently, “Wait. Before we go any further I want to tell you something. I-I have a confession…”

This gets me halfway to sober in an instant. I lean in just a tad with worry, giving her my full attention, and she plows right on.

“Yesterday, on the way home from the pool, I couldn’t stop thinking about you and how much I wanted you and I…” Her mouth quivers and she looks down in shame as she squeaks out, “I started diddling myself in your pocket!”

I lay there for a moment, just blinking. But then I can’t help but smile. “Did you just use the word ‘diddle’?”

Evie covers her face with the back of an arm. “I’m sorry. I’m so embarrassed.”

“Why?” I ask gently, already starting to feel warm and fuzzy again, “I mean, yeah, I wish I had known I guess, but it’s all good. In fact…”

I start really processing what she just told me. This happened yesterday? While she was on me? If I had simply glanced down at my pocket instead of keeping my eyes safely on the road, I would have caught her in the act? I can’t believe I couldn’t tell, the movements and the sounds must have been too subtle. Fuck. That’s how small she is. So incredibly tiny, to the point that I didn’t even notice her touching herself when she was so close to me. My breath catches, I feel a pang of pleasure between my legs and I have to voice it to her–

“Evie, that is insanely hot,” I say breathlessly.

Now she’s the one to take a moment to blink in the silence. “Oh. Really? Wow, that’s… that’s a huge relief.”

God, and she was touching herself thinking about me? Not to mention the fact that she felt safe and relaxed enough around me to even go there. As if I wasn’t already overwhelmed with affection for this girl… If this confession isn’t proof that she wants me as much as I want her, I don’t know what is.

I now finally have the courage to move the hand that’s next to her ever closer. My fingers hover just above her body, a hair away.

“This okay?” I whisper. She perks up and nods encouragingly.

I touch her bare skin. It makes me sigh with a strange relief as my muscles unclench. She’s here, she’s with me, she’s real. And she’s so lovely. My fear over breaking her fades away. This is just like touching her normally - my hands are well practiced and already know just how gentle to be. But now I can enjoy how warm and soft and smooth she feels.

Evie shivers all over as my fingertips run along the side of her frame. I briefly remember that night just a few days ago when she was forcing herself to make things sexual, just before we had our fight. It was clear then that she was pushing herself too far, that she had some kind of underlying fear. It’s so different this time. This feels infinitely more genuine and passionate. And her arousal is so addicting. I just want to help it build and build.

I’m still hesitant on touching her naked breasts, but she solves that problem for me as she rolls onto her back, into my touch, taking my finger and pressing it against her. It’s not like she’s never hugged me before, how does it feel this much better when her chest is naked? The round, perfect little pillows make me twitch, and I almost squeeze her a bit too tight as my fingers close around her.

For a couple of minutes we’re just feeling each other, me massaging her entire body within my hand as she writhes and wriggles against me. We make frequent eye contact, silently checking in with each other as our breathing gets more and more shallow. I have to hold back so much, forcing half of my mind to stay incredibly aware of how much force I’m using as I fondle and caress and squeeze.

At one point my thumb passes over her thigh, and Evie lets out a louder moan in response. This makes me pause, like a scientist who just made an unexpected discovery. I focus in on her legs, gently touching them again, gradually teasing them open. Her eyes snap up to meet mine, and for a second I’m worried I’ve screwed up. She’s pulling away from the prying digit, and that’s all I need to completely let go of her, lifting my hand off to hover above her body on the pillow.

“No, no,” Evie tries to explain breathlessly, “Don’t stop, it’s still green light, I just need a second–”

I realize she’s pulling at her shorts, slipping them off as quickly as she can and kicking them away. And just like that, she’s fully nude. Leaving nothing to the imagination anymore, from the generous curve of her rear to that sacred spot between her legs.

Frozen in time for a moment, I’m too busy staring at the full picture, but my little partner is desperate to get back to it. My hand is still floating above her head and she sits up to reach for it. I immediately follow her lead, more than willing to bring my fingers around her again as she lays back onto her side. I use my index to give her backside a cheeky caress and my thumb slips between her legs from behind, almost as if I was about to pinch the base of her torso. Evie lifts her knee up and takes the tip of my thumb in her hands, looking at me as if she’s asking for permission. Carefully I massage the inside of her thigh, nudging tentatively higher, requesting permission right back. We meet in the middle and I feel gentle moisture, like a little dewdrop against my skin.

The tiny woman exhales heavily upon contact and closes her eyes for a second. She grips my thumb with her legs, one hand on the digit and the other clutching at her own breast. I squeeze ever so slightly, and she gasps in surprised pleasure. She starts writhing her hips, grinding against me.

“This is…" she gasps, "I thought this would be rougher, but…” I don’t even quite mean to move, I’m just having such a hard time staying still, but I twitch and it elicits a high-pitched moan. “Oh my god, babe, I… Yeah. Keep going.”

“Evie…” I breathe out her name in rapturous pleasure. I’m already so close.

Her eyes glisten with sudden tears when they meet mine again, filled to the brim with gratitude and with care. “Aiden,” she finally sighs, “Kiss me…”

Without needing to be told twice, I keep my thumb in place and cup the rest of my fingers behind her back, and I drag her to my mouth. My lips envelop her abdomen and from there I start completely covering her with kisses. She wriggles and writhes and gasps, and even the smallest of my moans seem to vibrate through her and cause euphoric sighs in return.

It doesn’t take me long at this point. About a minute later I have to brace myself, trying to disguise my groan of pure ecstasy as just a regular sound of pleasure. I’m still breathing hard as I keep kissing her, keep angling my touch in whatever way she seems to enjoy most. And it’s just a couple more minutes before she shudders and clenches her knees against my thumb as she lets out a high-pitched, quiet, shuddering wince and I feel a new level of wetness against my skin. She shivers and looks at me with a spark of concern in her lust-drunk gaze.

“Are you…?” she gasps, nodding in the general direction of my body.

“I’m good,” I assure her, smiling and still short of breath. “I’m so good.”

We devolve into breathless giggles and discover that apparently our only vocabulary in the aftermath of post-coital giddiness is just variations on the words “I love you.” I’m kicking myself for not having brought a towel or something to have at the ready for her to clean up with - I eventually opt for the nearby tissue box that I’ve thankfully left on the floor within reach. I grab a few so I have some for myself too, and then I make sure to leave my hand on her to keep her warm as she presses the giant tissue between her legs. She’s still shivering a little bit, but I think it’s just with excitement. She’s got the biggest grin on her face, and I’m sure I have the exact same expression.

"Thank you, Aiden,” Evie gushes. “That was amazing. You’re amazing.”

I chuckle and nuzzle into her with a sigh, practically laying my face on top of her as I go into full relaxed mode. "The pleasure’s all mine. Let’s do it again sometime.”

"Can I ask you something?”

"Anything.”

"What are your other sensitive spots?”

I laugh again, and groan with pretend exasperation. But I go ahead and answer. "My ears. I’ve got sensitive earlobes, apparently.”

"Ooooo. Yeah that’s dangerous information for someone like me.”

"Hence why I hesitated telling you in the first place. A bit on the sides of my neck too, but you’ve probably figured those out already.”

Evie wiggles out from under my cheek to sit up and lean her arms onto the bridge of my nose, beaming as she looks me in the eye. "I promise I won’t abuse the power,” she says with an obviously mischievous tone.

She’s so close that her figure’s a little blurry, so I close one eye to help me focus in on her face. “Uh huh,” I respond simply, clearly unconvinced. “Hey, do me a favor. The next time you want to diddle in my pocket… invite me to the party?”

She laughs. “While you’re driving?”

“Hey, it’s my pocket, it’s only fair. I can make it work.”

She leans in and gives me a long kiss in the space between my eyes. “Deal.”

We transition into the most wonderful, relaxing time just resting together, without putting our clothes back on. For the rest of the evening we cuddle on the bed, skin to skin, as we drift in and out of conversation. Sometimes she’s laying in my hand, sometimes she’s up against my throat, tucked below my chin on the pillow. At one point she’s sprawled out on my forehead as we stare at the ceiling. At another point she’s curled up on my bare chest with my palm against her back.

I’m telling you. I’m in heaven.

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…

I’ve always loved the idea of being able to send myself to someone like that. But then the actual process of getting delivered sounds like an absolute nightmare lol

@ivythefairie Let me add my voice to the chorus!

@Olo Poor girl’s just a wee bit overstimulated

@HentaiHunter1 Oh wow, I didn’t think of that. Good point!! An extra nightmare

@skysayl Oooooh wait… I’ve actually written an ASMR script before… I don’t want to commit quite yet because I have so much going on right now but…!!

@Olo As much as we’re all into this fantasy, I think we can agree that if it actually happened we’d all be a little freaked out (And did I decide to write in a super convenient and discreet way for her to go the bathroom because I didn’t want to deal with that challenge? Yes. Yes I did lol.)

@SmolChlo I’m the same way! The only situations I would be okay with something like that is 1) non-con evil giant and us girls gotta stick together, or 2) maybe just 2-3 pets and it’s a loving polyamorous thing between everybody.

@Olo Haha well then, here you go! https://youtu.be/uwClJ-JRhU0?si=RQQAfvuSqx4cRk8y

This actually reminds me, he did one in the biggo role too, and it’s one of my absolute favorites! I’ve actually been meaning to put together a list of giant ASMR videos and post them here but just haven’t gotten around to it. I’ll share this one now though: https://youtu.be/egP_zxZgKEw?si=NQkrqEWBJNp0VtN5

@Olo HA, I’m sure Aiden is beyond paranoid about avoiding evidence of sites such as this one with her around

I love handheld interactions so damn much. I really enjoyed writing this chapter, I was happy to finally get to more fluffy stuff ️