I was doodling these two and decided to slap this together, as a promo pic I guess?
(Also, I’m still new to this whole posting images thing, here’s hoping this turns out okay!)
I was doodling these two and decided to slap this together, as a promo pic I guess?
(Also, I’m still new to this whole posting images thing, here’s hoping this turns out okay!)
@i-am-insane Okay your concept is great, and it isn’t the same as this, but dammit we both said Steve Irwin and now I can’t not share part of a discussion I had recently
Chapter 40
Evie
Stepping up to the mouth of the stadium-sized cavern gives me a wave of dizziness. Entering such a dark, vast space by myself is creating so much anxiety that I almost turn back around. But going back to Aiden after being so insistent with him doesn’t feel like an option right now. I try to summon my courage, and all it takes is looking back to the floor, to the sliver of red plastic that had caught my attention in the first place, and my determination floods back.
It’s twenty feet away from me, and the reason it wasn’t destroyed becomes apparent right away. Due to the heat of the fire and whatever explosion happened in here, there’s a crack in the concrete floor, and the flash drive fell right in before something else fell on top of it. Whatever was covering it up must have protected it long enough for the fire to get put out. There’s no way I would have even seen it if I hadn’t gotten so low to the ground to be able to peer into the crack.
After I take a couple of hesitant steps, I flinch at the sound of Aiden’s voice echoing into the room. “Watch out, there’s a whole lot of shattered glass there. Just to your left, can you see that?”
I look in that direction and sure enough, one of the rocks strewn about is clearly glinting in the low light. “Roger that,” I call back, “It is pretty dark in here… Can you see me?”
I turn to look at the wall, trailing my gaze up the length of the crack we’d been looking through. About fifty feet up is a patch of my giant friend’s face, the color of his eye appearing almost black in the darkness.
“Sort of, I can see movement…” he responds, shifting to try and get a better view, “Oh wait, duh. Hold on, let me give you some light.”
A moment later, the space I’m in gets fully illuminated, and when I look back to the door I came through I have to squint. Aiden’s just turned on his phone’s flashlight and leaned the device up against the entrance.
“Is that better?”
“Much better, thank you!” I say emphatically, looking around.
This not only makes it easier to see, but I’m more able to ignore the vastness of the rest of the room as it recedes into almost pitch blackness. I’m just focused on my immediate surroundings now. Though I do nervously see the hundreds of pieces of aforementioned glass to my left, and I also realize even smaller pieces are littering the floor around me, some shards small enough for me to step on. I really, really need to make myself some shoes.
Shivering from the sharp chill in the air, I carefully pad my way through, my legs already getting covered in ash just from walking around in here. I make it to the fissure, ducking under the overhang of debris that covers it. There it is down below me, and now I’m much more confident that it is indeed a flash drive. The plastic surface just has a couple of small scratches on it, it otherwise looks miraculously undamaged. And it’s the kind that has a cap to protect the USB plug too.
My heart rate picks up with excitement. With any luck, this thing still works. With even more luck there’s useful information on it.
“Evie?” Aiden asks apprehensively, “You just disappeared, everything okay?”
I sigh, a bit exasperated by the rather large distraction outside. But I don’t blame him for worrying, I should probably be talking him through what I’m doing. I pop my head back out into the open.
“It’s under here!” I call, “There’s a crack in the concrete and it’s inside. This might take a minute, but everything’s fine.”
I peer into the crevice in the ground, trying to gauge the space. The concrete itself is about five or six inches thick so it’s quite a bit taller than I am, but the dirt underneath the slab has been pushed up in places, making it more accessible. The fissure’s walls are uneven enough to create plenty of climbing holds, so I slip into the narrow opening and slowly make my way into the earth without much issue. By now my arms and clothes are getting pretty dirty too. Yep, I’ll definitely be taking a bath after this.
The flash drive is a rounded rectangle shape that’s four feet long to me, so it’s going to be rather unwieldy to drag across the ground. But first I have to get it out of the crevice. It’s already leaned up against the side of the concrete, so I crouch down and hook my arms under one end before pushing upwards. The other end reaches the opening. I hear Aiden outside comment, “Whoa, I see it!” and his excitement gives me a boost of adrenaline as I heave.
And then my heart sinks as there’s a dull, jolting thump. I was able to squeeze in here. But the flash drive won’t fit through the hole, it’s getting blocked by the debris overhead.
Cursing, I take another minute to keep trying, maneuvering it in different angles, until I let the thing collapse and am left breathing hard from the effort. The hole is just barely too small. I’m so close.
“What’s up?” the giant outside asks as I scramble back out of the crevice.
“It won’t fit,” I respond in frustration. I spend some time trying to push against the piece of rubble that’s laying overtop the crack. It’s a chunk of charred wood and melted plastic that’s probably no larger than a baseball to the average person, but to me it’s as big as a pickup truck. I shove against it as hard as I can but it doesn’t even budge.
“Umm, let me think,” Aiden says as he watches me, “Maybe if I find a stick, I can push on it from the outside?”
That’s not a bad idea. I look back towards the entrance, squinting against the flashlight. But the crack that I slipped through to get here was fairly narrow, I wonder if a wooden stick that’s thin enough to fit would still be strong enough to help. Not to mention the fact that this spot is off to the side and there are some obstacles in the way, it’d be a tricky maneuver.
“There isn’t anything right here that I can use, though,” he laments, “and I don’t want to leave you by yourself to find something… How about you come back and we try again on a different day? Now that we know about it we can come better equipped.”
The idea of walking away from this thing when it’s right in front of me is painful. Aiden’s probably right, but I still don’t want to give up just yet…
“Hold on,” I say, “Maybe I’m the one who needs a tool.”
I start looking around at the rubble a little more critically. Most of what I see are unrecognizable bits of brittle metal, burnt wood and reformed plastic. I carefully step over more glass as I spot something long and thin - I brush some of the ash off and realize it’s a half-melted pen. A plan starts forming in my head and I drag this back to the offending obstacle.
Using a small rock as a fulcrum, I jam the end of the pen under the boulder-like chunk and push down on the other side of the lever as hard as I can. I put my entire weight on it, straining every muscle in my body, and still… nothing.
I collapse against the pen for a few seconds as I try to catch my breath, hissing out frustrated curses. I glare at the boulder, imagining how easy it would be for Aiden’s hand to push it out of the way, or even just pick it up, with no issue. I hate. Being. Small.
All the more reason to get to that flash drive.
With renewed vigor I get up and continue looking around. Think. What else can I do here? I start scanning all the memories I have of being in the woodworking shop back in high school. Wondering if any of the problems I had to solve back then might apply to right now. Could I wear away at the obstacle instead and widen the hole? Maybe if I had some kind of miniature sander - you know, that classic dollhouse accessory. Could I chip away at it with a rudimentary hammer and chisel? Maybe if I had five months to spare.
I come across something flat and metallic in the debris, and as I wipe off the dust I realize it’s a ruler. It’s damaged but I can still see some of the numbers on it. Whoa… I’d been told that I was three inches tall but had never seen the measurement for myself. Seeing it so plainly in front of me is pretty sobering.
But then I’m struck with a thought. I look back towards the pen that was useless to me. What do I know about levers? If I’m struggling to pull a nail out with the claw of a hammer… Get a bigger hammer. A longer lever.
I step onto the other side of the ruler and begin to push. It’s very thin and made even more so by the heat, but it’s just as dense, and it’s metal, so it’s still quite heavy to me. It’s also literally four times my height in length, so I have to push one end, then run over to the other end to slowly inch the structure across the floor.
“Please don’t hurt yourself,” Aiden’s voice calls to me softly. I can tell he’s trying to be patient and let me do this, but I’m not sure how much longer I can justify it.
It takes me another few minutes to drag the ruler the couple of inches over to where I need it, and then I shove one end underneath a small gap in the obstacle I’m wanting to move. After thinking things through for a minute, I grab my fulcrum rock and bring it to the far side of the ruler, away from the looming boulder. Using every bit of strength I have, I lift up the end of the metal plank, just high enough for me to shove the rock underneath with my foot. Even though I’ve managed to avoid all the broken glass, my legs are getting pretty scratched up now. But at least I’m making progress.
I get down onto the ground so that I can start pushing the rock along the bottom of the ruler, moving the fulcrum closer and closer to the obstacle to get maximum torque. It’s exhausting, and despite the cold in the air I’m now covered in a thin sheen of sweat, but I push through, knees and feet scraping against the concrete as my arms shake. By the time I make it as far as I can go, the high side of the lever is level with my chin. I run back to it and reach my hands up, and I push down as hard as I can.
There’s a shifting this time. It’s just the slightest bit of movement but it’s budging. I jump up, put my entire weight on the end of the lever, but I’m just not heavy enough. God, I’m so close.
“Evie…” the giant whispers, and from a quick glance to him I can tell he’s looking down the alleyway nervously.
“Wait,” I gasp, “Sorry, let me just try one last thing!”
If I’m not heavy enough, maybe I just need more weight. I find another rock and push it up the length of the ruler, then another one, then another, creating a pile at the top of the lever. It’s a messy process, the rocks threatening to topple off on more than one occasion, but I can tell it’s making a difference. Finally as I carry one more rock up, I feel the tension starting to practically vibrate beneath my feet. And that’s the moment that I try leaping up into the air and landing down as hard as I can.
It works. The boulder-like obstacle doesn’t roll away, but it slides to the side just a tad, the ruler slipping out from underneath it and causing me to crash to the ground. I can hear a sharp, concerned inhale from Aiden but I ignore him, immediately back on my feet as I rush over to the crevice.
I climb back down to the flash drive, needing to pause and take a few breaths after all that exertion. It’s time to push this thing up.
I’m so close. I’m so goddamn close. The hole is bigger, it looks like it’ll be a perfect fit, I push the end of the flash drive through… and then it gets stuck. The gap still isn’t quite wide enough. Once the rounded corners pass through, I feel resistance once again.
But it’s just by a hair. And I’ve come this far. I don’t care that my body’s about to give out, I have to do this. With a surge of adrenaline and a cry of exertion, I shove with everything that’s in me. The obstacle above me shudders and shifts… and then it shifts a lot more than I was expecting. Apparently when I’d pushed the boulder with the lever I had moved it into a precarious balance. And now it finally rolls a quarter turn to the side.
What I didn’t know about was the pile of ash and dirt that was trapped on top of the piece of rubble. Which now all comes tumbling down into the crevice in one solid wave. Burying me alive.
@Olo I’ll toss out my own opinion on this one! To explain how I think of it in very broad strokes, “male gaze” to me is more of a focus on the physical (in the past when I’ve RP’d with dudes, most of the time they would ask me what my character was wearing - just as an example). Whereas “female gaze” feels like it has a bit more of a focus on the emotional - inner monologues, slow burns, angst. At least this is what I’ve gathered from the stuff I’ve read and the demographics of the different communities I’ve been a part of. Obviously this is a big generalization and all genders can enjoy any of it~
Still working on OotE part 3 (plus another lil secret project…), but I was finding myself wanting to take breaks from the fluff and the angst and work on this side story that um… let’s just say it’s decidedly not a slow burn. I hope you enjoy this bit of self indulgent smut You can expect dubcon, lil bit of foot stuff, lil bit of mouth stuff, lots of handhelds and shrinking, including micro sizes.
Chapter 1
I can feel my eyes cross as we enter the second hour of my Macroeconomics class. I’ve heard enough about real versus nominal GDP to last me a lifetime and yet, we’re still here. My professor’s actually doing a decent job at sounding enthusiastic, it’s not his fault that the subject is as dull as all get-out. It also doesn’t help that this class runs until 6pm and all I can think about is which of the many fast food options I’ll be stopping by on the way back to my dorm.
One of my hands lingers around my shoulder, fidgeting as usual. I’m wearing an oversized hoodie so my fingers only barely poke out of their sleeve, fiddling with the end of one of my braids. At least it’s a change of pace from twirling my pencil or my habit of meticulously examining the little details of my environment, but the boredom is a tough contender nevertheless.
Ten minutes later, after having completely escaped into the slightly more interesting world of my own brain, I almost jump out of my seat at the sudden sound of a chair being pulled back right next to me. Who the hell is showing up to class with only thirty minutes left? I glance over to my left and almost choke on my own spit.
Ryder Gatlin. The man, the myth, the legend himself. This guy is pretty much a school celebrity. Swim team star. Campus heartthrob. Future billionaire, probably. I’m only saying that because I happen to know he comes from money, and with all his other talents there’s no way he won’t succeed in life. Even if he’s apparently the farthest thing from punctual - he has enough confidence and charm that it doesn’t matter. Our professor does little more than shoot him a mildly disapproving look, hardly pausing at all in the lesson.
I curse inwardly even though on the outside I’m giving the latecomer a quick, friendly smile. Ryder returns the silent greeting, his sky blue eyes locking right into mine. I quickly look back down at my notes, picking my pencil up with renewed vigor, but I don’t pay any more attention to the class than I did a minute ago. I’m now far too distracted by the dominating presence of the tall, handsome, laid-back man to my left. I hate the effect that he has on me. It makes me feel so… basic. I frown down at my notebook, feigning concentration, as I adamantly scold myself for giving any shits about this guy.
He’s not even taking notes or anything. He just sits back in his chair, staring politely at the professor up front with a gentle smile on his face. Not that I’m able to tell whether he’s actually smiling or not - I’m concentrating on my notes, remember? But he always has that smile. Like he knows something the rest of us don’t, just the slightest upturn of the corners of his mouth. It drives me insane in more ways than one.
The next half hour is agony, not to mention a complete waste of time since I’m not absorbing any of the lesson. Six o’clock finally rolls around and at long last we’re dismissed. I snatch my backpack up from the floor and stand up to start packing my things away.
I’m interrupted by a smooth, rich voice. “Hey.”
Sigh… Of course. My shoulders stiffen but I don’t stop moving, unzipping a pocket to tuck my writing utensils into. I give him a cursory glance.
"What’s up?” I ask.
“I’m trying to remember your name… Isabella?” His voice has this quiet strength to it, like the purr of a tiger. Commanding my attention even as I try to focus on my stuff.
“No ‘a’. Just Isabelle," I respond.
“Ah, that’s right. I’m Ryder.”
I finally pause long enough to look at him straight on. My heart flutters in my chest. The dark copper of his hair contrasts so beautifully against the blue of his eyes. I’m actually jealous of it. I happen to have almost the exact same shade of brown hair, but my eyes are so dark they’re almost black. Nowhere near as striking as his.
“Yeah, I know," I tell him, "We’ve had a couple of classes together.”
“Have we? All the better.”
I try to ignore the painful pang in my chest at the knowledge that he hardly seems to remember me at all, despite this not being our first conversation by a long shot. Meanwhile I remember the exact spot he normally sat at in all four of the classes I’ve been in with him. Ugh, how pathetic is that…
“Listen, do you think you could help me out, Isabelle?" he continues, “I’m sure you’ve noticed, but I was really delayed getting here today. Think you could help me catch up on that first half of the lesson?”
He actually missed quite a bit more than the first half. But whatever. “Um… I don’t have enough time now, I was needing to head home to–”
“Not right now," Ryder says with a hint of amusement, as if what I’d said was ridiculous. “Tonight. Go have some dinner, fuel up. Meet me at my dorm room in an hour?"
Fucking… what?
I’m too stunned to notice where he pulls a piece of paper from, but it’s suddenly in his hand and he sets it down in front of me on the desk. Then he bends down to grab his own backpack and sling it over one shoulder.
“Appreciate it. See you then, Isabelle."
I stare after him, completely dumbfounded as he turns and strolls right out of the room. What the hell just happened? I look down at the scrap of paper in front of me and, sure enough, there’s the name of one of the on-campus dorms and a room number. I actually have to sit back down, even as everyone else has been filtering out of the class, so that I can pick up the paper and feel that it’s real. He didn’t even leave his phone number or any other kind of information.
There’s no way he’s inviting me over to study. I mean, right? But the alternative makes even less sense. I’m not the type of girl who randomly gets invited by a classmate for a booty call. Put aside my mud-colored eyes or the fact that I lack a thigh gap, but I’m about as mousy as they come. I don’t exactly ooze confidence nor the air of someone who sleeps around. Why would Ryder Gatlin have any interest in a girl like me, especially if he believes we’ve barely met? Honestly, maybe it makes more sense if he really does just want to study.
But also, what makes him think I’ll take him up on this?? I have shit to do! I have my own homework. The fact that he thinks I would just drop any evening plans and be ready to meet up with him in an… hour? It’s ludicrous.
My shoulders droop as I suddenly think of another explanation. This could just be some sort of mean prank. A hot, popular guy reaching out to a shy, bookish girl? I can already picture it in my mind’s eye… I show up. Knock on the door. Some random dude answers it, looking confused. Ryder’s there with a bunch of his buds and acts like he has no idea who I am, and they all have a good laugh about it as they mock the idea that someone like me thought she had any kind of chance with someone like him.
This is so stupid. I need to get home. I finally finish grabbing my things and hurry out of the classroom. I head in the exact opposite direction of the dorm that’s scribbled on the paper I still have in my hand, now crushed into a misshapen ball. I feel like I’m walking through a dream. I hardly taste my chicken sandwich and I find myself absently checking the time every few minutes. My mind keeps harassing me with the question “But what if…?”
I check the time once more right as I step into the front lobby of my own dorm building. Ten minutes until seven. Ryder’s dorm is a ten minute walk. The doors of opportunity are closing quickly, and that honestly should be a relief. I need to move on, get started on my Data Analysis homework, forget about all of this nonsense. It might be a bit awkward the next time I see him in class, but I could easily tell him that I had previously scheduled plans that I didn’t immediately think of in the moment and wasn’t able to make it. He couldn’t even blame me for not letting him know since he didn’t give me any contact information. I just need to walk over to that elevator and go back to my room and…
Who the fuck am I kidding.
I wasn’t quite in control of myself when I turned and marched right back out the front doors. Once I’m outside, I take a deep breath in to steady myself. God, I feel so stupid right now, but I’m just too damn curious. I start power walking across the north end of campus as the sun begins to set, my mind buzzing with nonsensical thoughts that do little good in talking any sense into me. I double check that I still have pepper spray in my purse, and I text a couple of friends to let them know exactly where I’m headed. Out of all the outcomes that could come of this, I highly doubt that getting murdered by such a high-profile student in his own dorm room is at all likely. But one can never be too careful.
I’ve never been in this building before, and as I step inside I quickly gather why that is… I think this is an all-male dorm. Lovely. As if I didn’t already feel out of place. Not only that but the glass door leading in to the rooms themselves is protected by a card reader. How does he expect me to come to his room without helping me get past the lobby first? This is another sign that I shouldn’t be here, I should just turn around and forget about all this. But apparently I’ve left all of my good judgment back in that classroom an hour ago.
There’s enough traffic going in and out of the doors that I’m able to sneak through without too much trouble, despite clearly not belonging here. None of the men around me seem to take much notice of me, to my infinite relief. Maybe it’s not uncommon for female students to sneak in to meet up with their boyfriends or something. Which is not at all what I’m doing, I remind myself.
I decided on the way here that I would at least pretend at first that I really did only come to study and then… I’ll see how things go. After going up two flights of stairs I find the right room number and, without giving myself any time to reconsider this, I knock.
Immediately a voice calls out from inside. “Come in.”
This is the moment that I hesitate. I stare at the doorknob for a couple of seconds. I’m not even really considering turning back at this point, the fact that I’ve made myself known makes that feel like it’s not an option anymore. It’s more like I’m bracing myself. For what, I’m not really sure but… whew. Here goes.
Oooo such a good question and I love seeing the responses! I do enjoy quite a variety. A romantic relationship is at the top for me, but I do love me some sweet platonic friendships too. Or for the giant to be in a more villainous role, though I don’t have any interest in giants seeing the tinies as disposable (maybe as a threat, but actual death is a total turnoff for me).
Weirdly I’m not as much into existing couples dealing with shrinking, usually because the content I’ve seen where that is the case tends to be rather sad? But I’d be totally open to exploring that, I’ve got a couple of stories on the ol’ idea list with that premise. And it’s definitely what I would go for if we’re talking a bit more realistic - I’d love for me and my partner to explore the possibilities of a shrink ray!
I think the biggest thing for me when it comes to stories is wanting some form of a happy ending. I think that’s why I tend to gravitate towards gentle stories - a couple that forms despite the size differences, the journey of learning to trust, the beauty of them figuring out how to be together and make it work. That gets a little trickier when it comes to me wanting to explore my darker side too with noncon/dubcon scenarios. If the ending is just “she died” or “she was his slave for the rest of her life” it sorta leaves a bad taste in my mouth. But I’m a sucker for redemption arcs and rescue fantasies and the like. 🥰 And I guess there’s something to be said for fleeting moments as opposed to full fledged stories. A picture of a giant looming over his victim threateningly with a smirk on his face is absolutely up my alley, no matter what their relationship is (and then I just don’t really think about the potential bad ending there).
Chapter 54
Evie
I’m not sure what feels better right now… The warmth on my back from the sun, or the warmth on my front from my giant partner…
Alright, fine, that’s a complete lie. Of course it’s the warmth of the guy I’m head over heels for. It’s no contest.
Still, the sunbathing part is pretty nice. We’ve been spending a good chunk of the afternoon at the pool and I’ve enjoyed the fun of playing in the water, the catharsis of telling Moira about Brock, and now the relaxation of laying on Aiden’s back. He picked out a spot just by the pool that’s under a tree to put down a couple of towels so that we’re not in direct sunlight, but the branches above us are patchy enough that the rays still partly reach us. I think he’s reading a book - or at least he was at first, but from how low his head is to the ground he might just be resting at this point.
Moira’s doing her own relaxing in the water, laying in the inner tube with her head hanging back. I’m practically falling asleep from my spot near my boyfriend’s spine, but when I see movement coming from my other giant friend I’m roused into being slightly more alert. She’s anchored the heel of her foot onto the edge of the pool to keep from drifting away so that she can chat with me.
“Evie, while I’m thinking about it - I have that silicone clay in the car for you, the kind that doesn’t dry out. Don’t let me forget before we leave.”
I sit up so that I have an easier time projecting my voice her way. “Oh awesome! Thanks, Moira, that’s a huge help.”
“No problem. Hey, I was looking at your reviews yesterday, by the way. You really need to start charging a little more. Everyone’s in love with your stuff! And your price points are way below the standard."
“Yeah, I know, I plan on upping the prices a bit with the next wave. I got those metallic paints so it felt justifiable since the armor and stuff should look better… I don’t know, I feel weird making it more expensive for no reason. I kinda have an unfair advantage that lets me make all of those little details that people are praising me over.”
“I completely disagree. I’m sure overall you’re spending just as much if not more time and effort than the average person on these since they’re so much bigger to you. Know your worth, girl! Your work is beautiful so don’t sell yourself short.”
“She’s right,” Aiden mumbles from below.
I smile widely. “Thanks. I’m still new at this owning-my-own-business thing, but it’s been really great so far. I’ll get the hang of it.”
Moira loses her grip at that point and her heel slips off the stone. She giggles and waves helplessly as she starts drifting away again towards the other end of the pool. I return the wave then slide back down onto the warm, expansive mattress underneath me.
Several minutes pass, and then Aiden tugs at my attention when out of nowhere he chuckles a little. It’s quiet, subdued, but it still shakes me and so my eyes flutter open.
“What’s up?” I call out curiously.
“Nothing.”
I lift my head up. “Tell me!"
“I’m just picturing how you’d react if I tried to scratch the itch you’re causing. It’s funny in my head.”
“Oh shoot, I’m causing an itch?”
“Barely. I think it’s more of a mental thing. I’m just hyper aware of your little body up there…” Like a wave passing under my paddle boat, I float up and down as he sighs deeply. “Don’t worry. I love it.”
But despite that I get up into a kneeling position with a blossoming smile. I start crawling up the length of his back, passing between his shoulder blades, until I reach the side of his neck. Still on my hands and knees, I playfully arch my back and rub up against him like a cat requesting attention, and when I actually start kissing his neck he shudders and I have to actively keep my balance.
“Y’know…” Aiden mutters, words slurring with how relaxed he is, “If this whole painting minis thing doesn’t work out, you could always open your own massage place. Just walk all over peoples’ backs, easy money.”
“I’m not sure any of this counts as an actual ‘massage’ though,” I counter. I take a seat so that I can start running my fingertips along his skin instead, satisfied at the way little bumps start rising up.
“Semantics,” he sighs, “Whatever it is, I never want you to stop.”
I won’t lie, it’s pretty nice for me too. It’s just so gratifying to feel like I can give him any sort of pleasure like this. It’s actually kinda… stirring something inside of me. I lean in to kiss him again, and the simple sensation of his warmth against my lips creates a wave of my own goosebumps all up my back. My breath hitches and I close my eyes as I trail my nose along his neck.
“I don’t want to stop either,” I murmur.
But I guess the universe had different plans. Just then we hear the sound of voices in the distance, claps of laughter from an approaching family. In one smooth motion, Aiden reaches a hand up to encircle my frame between his fingers while lifting up onto his elbows. We’re not in the water so I can’t hide in the innertube, but his back is facing the gate that’s currently squeaking open, so I’m pretty easy to hide. He sets me down onto the towel, just underneath him, and he casually scoots his book a little closer to look like he’d always been reading it.
For the next half a minute, my partner’s having a silent conversation with Moira who’s at the other end of the pool, presumably exchanging looks with her to gauge if now is a good time to head out. But I’m… very distracted. Aiden’s naked chest is just above me, looming overhead like the ceiling of a gymnasium. His pecs are smooth and mostly bare, just very lightly brushed with dark hairs here and there, but leaving nothing to cover up the tone of his muscle. His shoulders are so broad, his neck long and towering as it trails up to his jaw. I let myself lay back on the towel and take it all in as if I was stargazing, my eyes darting from the faint shadow going up his middle to the lines of his collarbone to the curve of his Adam’s apple.
And then he suddenly looks down right at me, a smile softening his hazel gaze as he briefly takes me in too. “Ready?” he mouths, eyebrows lifting with the question. I’m sure I’m blushing fervently as I silently nod.
My mind’s all over the place. We’ve been at the pool for a while now, it’s an appropriate time to leave, but in reality I wish I could lay here a little longer. I briefly wonder how he’s going to sneak me out of here, which leads to me asking myself, Do his swim trunks have pockets? That would be quite the new experience - I’ve never been in his pants pockets before. The space would be tighter, the location more… awkward. Yeah okay, this line of thinking is dumb, and in any case, no, I’m pretty positive his swimsuit doesn’t have pockets.
And then to my own shock, my mind goes all the way into the gutter as I imagine myself hiding in it anyway. All it would take is him pulling back the waistband and–
Whoa, whoa, whoa! The hell am I thinking? I flip over, burying my face into the towel, mortified. Thankfully the giant above me doesn’t really seem to notice as he’s busy getting to a sitting position while also casually bunching up the sides of the towel to keep me hidden from sight. He doesn’t see how beet red I must be when he reaches over for his bag nearby to retrieve a shirt.
I more or less get a hold of myself by the time he puts the garment on. Moira has now joined too, a towel wrapped around her, and between the two of them and their bags and the fact that Aiden is turned away from the occupied strangers, it’s a pretty simple transfer for me to get into his shirt pocket unnoticed. The next few minutes are a little hazy as I’m taken along for a ride, back out to the parking lot. I pop out briefly to say goodbye to Mo, and before I know it we’ve started the drive towards home.
It’s not uncommon for me to sit in silence when in his pocket, even during car rides like this where we’re alone, and I take advantage of that now as I lay back against the wall of my partner’s chest. My head feels heavy with the buzz of the intrusive feelings I was having earlier, and as I let my eyes close all I can see in my mind’s eye is Aiden, his massive form hovering over me, unknowingly presenting himself to my lustful stare. Even now his presence is overwhelming, so expansive and all-encompassing as I sit here contained against him. I lean into the corner of the pocket so that I can turn the front of my body towards the giant’s chest. I focus deeply on the sound of his heartbeat.
Ba-bump
I sigh softly, lightly hugging my arms against the wall. I’m so attracted to this man, inside and out. I both love him so purely while also lusting after him like a depraved hormonal teenager. What I’d give to be able to be in his world again, just for one night. To have uninhibited, uncomplicated sex with the person I adore most.
I picture him in front of me, imagining what he would look like if I was my old size again. I could touch so much more of him at once - I could press my mouth against his while my hands grip at his back and my leg hooks over his waist. We could wrestle and writhe together without having to be so cautious, until that deepest of intimacies as he slides inside me. How I took it for granted, the simple ability to become one with my partner.
Ba-bump
But then again, even in my fantasies Aiden’s at least a little taller than I am. I suppose I actually enjoy a certain amount of height difference. In the picture I’ve formed in my head, the difference between us slowly starts to increase. I wonder how much shorter than him I could be before he wouldn’t fit inside me anymore. Three feet tall maybe? Shorter than Moira, shorter than any adult I’ve ever met. But perhaps just tall enough?
Ba-bump
I know that sex is far more than one person inserting themselves into the other. What else could we do together? I mentally shrink myself from that three foot height, down to the size of a Barbie doll. Surely I would be able to accomplish something then and it would still feel good to him? I could use my hands, my mouth, something.
Ba-bump
But I’m not three feet tall, or even twelve inches tall. I’m so much smaller than that. I don’t really know what he looks like down there, but his manhood is probably bigger than I am. What could I possibly do to pleasure him at this three inch height? My touch is nothing more than a tickle. Enough to give him goosebumps, sure, but never enough to fully satisfy him, right? But there’s so much he could do to me. And it’s so easy for him to touch my entire body all at once. He’s just so incredibly powerful, it’s intoxicating.
Ba-bump
My breath has grown more and more shallow as I sit there and subtly squirm in Aiden’s pocket. God, I’m so sensitive right now that I can feel the vibrations of his heartbeat, the rhythm strong and steady. It tickles my chest, my stomach, and then I tilt my pelvis ever so slightly and feel small shocks of pleasure with every resonating thump.
Ba-bump
I can’t think straight anymore. My subconscious has just enough wherewithal to keep me quiet and relatively still, but I’m completely entranced with the giant’s presence as he unconsciously dominates my mind. As if moving of its own accord, my hand slips in between my legs.
Ba-bump
I haven’t even acknowledged my own arousal that I’m clearly caught up in, even though at this point my breathing has tripled in speed. Aiden suddenly makes a quiet noise, a small “hmm” in the back of his throat in reaction to something on the road. But to me it’s an intense vibration that bursts through my body. It rattles me and pushes me over the edge as I fill with heat and adrenaline and an overwhelming affection.
I gasp in shock at my own release. It wasn’t particularly amazing, it almost felt like tripping at the finish line, but still… did that seriously just happen?
My boyfriend seems to have noticed my gasping and responds, “You alright? Sorry, that car was making me nervous so I moved over, but I didn’t mean to swerve like that."
I hadn’t even noticed any weird movements on the car’s part. I was in a whole different world for a few minutes there. I shake my head, flustered. I can’t believe I just did that right under his nose. Ugh, I’m such a creep.
“Oh, okay! No worries," I say, doing a surprisingly good job at playing it cool. Great, now I feel ashamed for hiding this from him. But I’m just too embarrassed right now to come clean.
This does make me realize something very clearly. I want to take my relationship with Aiden to the next level. I don’t know if that’s exactly what he would want or what possibilities are open to us. I’m also aware that he’s going to be busy tonight grading his students’ reports and I should probably hold off… But I need to bring this up with him soon. Very soon.
I do enjoy a bit of temporary unaware scenarios! I get a bit bored if a story is entirely unaware, especially since it usually ends in death if that’s the case, so I always say that I’m not into unaware. But this thread is highlighting the fact that that’s not actually true - if there’s eventually a moment of discovering then I love it for all the reasons mentioned!
I also enjoy how it plays into my love of micro. The idea that I’m not hiding from him - in fact I’m doing everything I can to get his attention and he still doesn’t notice me?? So terrifying and thrilling. And being discovered in that situation, even if he clearly isn’t a cruel person, is still very scary due to the size difference.
I also like a bit of semi-awareness, if that makes sense. Not so much getting mistaken for a bug or something (that’s actually a bit of a pet peeve of mine because I feel like if she’s big enough to be seen/noticed, the shape/color of her should also be apparent enough to recognize that she’s not an insect… But I digress.) I’m more referring to scenarios where he is aware that she’s around but loses track of her somehow. Whether it’s a cat and mouse type hunt, or a silly teasing type game, or he’s legitimately worried and fretfully searching, I love those moments. Gah one of my favorite lines to hear from a giant (that could be said in all kinds of tones) is “ah, there you are” 🫠
My little friend grins and scoots sideways before shoving lightly at the edge of my thumb. “Flip your hand over,” she orders, and I do so, slowly pivoting in place at the wrist. And before I know it she’s climbing aboard, as confident and trusting as anything. I marvel at the feeling of her limbs causing gentle pressure as she crawls to the center of my palm and then takes a cross-legged seat.
“Ta da! Look at that. You’re holding me,” she exclaims with her arms up in the air in celebration. “How’re you doing? Feel okay?”
For a moment I let my eyes shut again so that I can go back to focusing wholly on the physical sensations, and it strikes me just how much I need to concentrate. “You barely weigh a thing…” I murmur.
“Yeah, I get that a lot,” she says, as casually as if I’d told her she had a unique name. “Don’t worry, I’m not gonna get launched into the stratosphere if you try to lift me up.”
“Stop reading my mind,” I chuckle. Here’s hoping that my laughing doesn’t shake her too much. I feel like every micro movement must be jarring.
Naomi lifts up onto her knees, looking as if she’s gauging something. “Actually, here, my leg isn’t that messed up… I can climb up to your shoulder.”
“W-what?!” I startle at the suggestion.
“Just hold still?” she says, already starting to crawl towards my wrist.
I get swept up in her self-assured demeanor and don’t give myself the opportunity to second guess it. “Okay…”
And then all I can really do is become a statue as I quickly lose track of the tiny figure - I just feel her hands and feet as she swiftly makes her way up my arm the second I give consent. Thankfully there isn’t too much of a slope but still, I’m impressed by how quickly she moves. My forearm lights up with goosebumps from the tickle of her passing over the inside of my elbow. Soon I’m feeling particularly self conscious as she gets so incredibly close that I can hear her faintly labored breathing approaching my left ear. And then I stop sensing her skin against mine when she meets the sleeve of my hospital gown, there’s just her minute shifting weight until she reaches my shoulder. I glance sidelong at her and briefly get a good look of her smiling my way. My tunnel of vision doesn’t encircle anything past her face, but I can still see her whole face, even though she’s just a couple of inches away… So surreal.
And then Naomi ducks out of sight as she comes too close to my neck for me to see her easily, and I feel her limbs against my skin once more. She hunkers down on the inside of the hospital gown’s collar, grunting with satisfaction as she takes a seat.
“There we go!” she exclaims, “Still doing okay?”
“Mm-hmm.” I’m still not budging, and I’m afraid of speaking or even breathing in her direction, as if I might blow her over or hurt her eardrums.
“You can talk normally,” she giggles, and then she adds, “Ahhh crap.”
“What’s wrong?” I mutter.
“I forgot my bag on the table. Hey, you want to try grabbing it for me?”
“Uhhhh…” I briefly scan the tabletop, but it’s a sea of grayish brown. “You’re gonna have to help me.”
“Like piloting a mech! Hehe. Okay, move your hand slightly to the left… A little further back… There, did you feel that?”
Her knapsack is so small that it takes a few attempts of my fingers running over what feels like an oversized lump of lint until I manage to pinch it into my grasp. Hopefully there’s nothing fragile in there.
I lift my hand up to my shoulder mindfully - this would be a particularly bad time to knock my friend clean off of me. I pin my wrist against my chest, and Naomi is able to reach from there to extricate her parcel from my grip.
“You rocked that!” she cheers before reclaiming her seat, her voice practically musical with her enthusiasm. She is having way too much fun with this.
“If I didn’t know better,” I say with a smirk, “I might think you left that behind on purpose.”
“Good thing you know better then,” she teases and gives my neck a playful shove. “Alright. You want to try standing up?”
“…Not really?”
“Cameron, you could literally fall over and I’d be fine. That exact thing has happened before, I know I can hang on. Just pretend I’m not here.”
I can’t decide on whether that anecdote is more reassuring or alarming. I’m curious about what happened, I’ll have to ask her later. But for now… Moment of truth.
I’m quite stiff as I slowly start shifting to the side, insanely aware of the way Naomi has to constantly redistribute her weight as I move. Though maintaining her balance does seem like it’s second nature to her… The IV pulls at my arm so I renegotiate the way the tubes hang. I swing one leg over the side of the bed, then the other, finding my footing on the cold floor.
“Going up,” I mutter.
“You’ve got this,” Naomi adds.
I push into my legs, my entire abdomen briefly complaining from the effort of my rising. I reflexively reach for the nearby IV pole, and while I don’t have any difficulty finding it, I make the mistake of putting too much weight on it. I slip.
I fall a few inches as the wheeled pole rolls away from me, and I catch myself on the portion of the bed that’s tilted up, my fingers digging into the mattress. My curse comes out in a hiss as my heart rate skyrockets.
“You’re okay, you’re okay!” Naomi says quickly, like she’s just my physical therapist taking me through some exercises.
“I’m not worried about if I’m okay,” I growl, and I use the bed this time to balance myself as I finally finish standing. I look down and to the side, worriedly trying to catch sight of my tiny passenger.
“Oh. I’m okay too,” she laughs, clearly unperturbed.
That’s good. I just stand there for several moments, trying to settle my nerves and adjust to the feeling of being on my feet. Overall, though… This is reassuring. Naomi didn’t go flying, those little hands really are able to hold on tight. Maybe I can try taking just a couple of steps…
I give her a warning before I slowly test out my legs again, one hand rolling the IV pole along while the other trails against the side of the bed in case I fall again. The pain in my abdomen recedes as I get into a groove, my whole body settling into a dull ache after having spent so much time sedentary. Just one foot in front of the other.
“There you go,” Naomi says encouragingly, and then she quickly cuts in with, “Oh wait, stop.”
I freeze in place, not even risking putting my foot down into my next step. “What is it?” I fret helplessly.
“Nothing, but you’re about to knock against something with your IV. Bring it slightly towards you… No, like to the left but a bit further back… Yeah, like that. And then get ready to move more to the right soon, so that you don’t hit the bathroom door…”
And so, awkwardly, we start cooperating as I continue taking slow steps. Without my cane I’m reflexively holding my IV pole ahead of me to help sense my way, but I’m mostly just relying on Naomi’s direction right now. And although it takes much longer than it would for an average person, I successfully make the journey to the other side of the room. I spot the bright colors of what must be some kind of medical poster, and when I reach out, my fingertips make contact with a wall.
“Hell YES!” Naomi whoops, kicking her legs against my shoulder in excitement.
“We made it,” I mutter in disbelief. Since I’ve lost my vision I have literally never walked across a new space without tripping over something midway.
And then before I know it, we’re heading back in the other direction. A gentle coaching at my ear. One step after another. The slightest bit faster this time. Bit by bit, until I can reach out and touch the hospital bed once more.
I’m still walking with one finger trailing on the mattress when I suddenly feel a warmth against my neck. Naomi has scooted a bit closer to me to lean against it with a sigh. “That makes me happy,” she says.
“That we’re almost back across?” I ask, glancing in her direction.
“No. Just that your shoulder’s finally unclenched.”
And there’s the other wall. I touch it, staring wide-eyed down towards my feet, still struggling to take in the relative ease with which I just crossed the room despite no one holding onto my arm.
Naomi gently strokes the side of my neck before she sits back up again. “Okay, you want to put me down again?” she offers, her voice tinged with disappointment. “If you want you can drop me back off at my own room right now so that we can be done.”
Oh. Right. After getting caught up in what felt like learning how to walk for the first time, I’d stopped thinking about what we were even doing this for.
“Actually…” I say sheepishly, turning my head towards my unconventional guide. “Do you think you can help me fill my water cup first?”
I can hardly believe it myself just how much and how quickly I’ve come around on this new experience, and my enthusiasm is only matched by hers. We spend another twenty minutes together, practicing this new way of navigating the world. Naomi’s also finding her own rhythm, and soon we get accustomed enough to it that she doesn’t need nearly as many words to direct me. We’re able to continue chatting about everything and nothing as I not only obtain more water but also get myself a snack from my backpack in the corner, and then tidy some of my mom’s belongings for when she comes back to visit tonight.
But my weakened body eventually begins feeling quite sore, and we also start worrying that someone should be coming by pretty soon to check my vitals again. This has been great and all, but the idea of actively trying to hide my shrunken friend somewhere is probably a step too far for me. And so we make one last trip, this time to the exit.
“Hand out,” Naomi directs, “Door handle’s to the left… left… down…”
“Got it.” I lower my voice as I open the door and peer out into the hallway. According to the better pair of eyes at my shoulder, the coast is clear. Furtively I head down a couple of doors, keeping one hand on the wall.
I’m frankly sad that our hangout is coming to an end. This was so… so nice. The way we’ve been able to get around symbiotically is exciting, for sure, and I find myself imagining what it might be like to have my own little private navigation system all the time. But more than anything else, I’ve really enjoyed our conversations. I like her, and I’d like to get to know her better. I’ll have to come back and visit once I’m out of the hospital. Maybe I could even end up taking her on an outing or something so she can get some fresh air. I wonder… I wonder if she might ever be open to–
“I’ve been thinking,” the voice at my ear suddenly pipes up as I walk. It snaps me out of my reverie about what it might be like to have a miniature roomate, since her tone has gone uncharacteristically serious. “About what you said earlier. About how it seems like I’m not bothered by my condition.”
I grimace at my own faux pas from earlier and quickly say, “Sorry, I wasn’t thinking at all when I–”
“No no, it’s just, I’m realizing… that you might be right?” she interjects avidly, “Like, obviously I’d much rather be my old self again. Being this small sucks. But from the beginning I was told that this is almost certainly permanent. And after some time, I accepted it. My friends would get really frustrated with me - they’d tell me not to give up hope, that the doctors would find a cure, that I’ll be able to go back to my normal life one day… But they didn’t understand.”
At this point my fingers have already passed over the bump of the doorway that is our destination. But I’ve paused so I can listen, craning my neck back to look down at Naomi.
She’s smiling as widely as ever. “They didn’t get that me accepting my reality wasn’t me giving up. Quite the opposite, actually… I think that’s how I ‘do it.’” She shrugs. “It’s the only advice I’ve got.”
I smile back. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
“Thanks for helping me feel useful today, Cameron.”
“Yeah… Right back atcha. Thanks for the visit.”
I open the door to her room, hoping that I’m not bothering the other patient here, but from the sound of snoring coming from by the window I think we’re okay. Naomi directs me to the shelf that’s to the immediate left, and after I feel around I find what I surmise is her “shoebox,” a clear plastic tank of sorts. I raise my free hand up to my shoulder in invitation, anchoring my pinkie against my collar bone.
Naomi slides off her perch, stepping lightly into my palm, and asks, “You’ll be okay getting back?”
There’s no arm bridge this time, I have to do this myself. But I’m not feeling nearly as panicked now. Slowly I lower my hand along my body, tiny girl in tow, as I respond, “Yeah, I’ll be fine. I feel good.”
“You’ve got this,” Naomi says enthusiastically before I sense her warm weight hop off of my hand again and onto the shelf. “See you tomorrow!”
If this were any other friend, my reply might have poked fun at the expression. But I realize, as my tunnel of vision perfectly encircles the grinning face below me, that for the first time in a long while I’m able to give a completely genuine response.
“See you then.”
Phew, I always forget about the character limit on DD, hopefully I broke that up in OK spots
I was taking a break from writing Out of their Element with all the crazy life happenings going on, when I was suddenly inspired to write this story that’s been bouncing around in my head for a little while. It was such a pleasure and the perfect way to stretch out those writing muscles again~ (and while I’m still insanely busy and the progress is slow, the momentum has spilled over to Oote too so hooray!) Also, a huge thank you to my friend and sensitivity reader on this
By the way, I made an AO3 account if you’d prefer to follow my stories there! https://archiveofourown.org/users/littlest_lily
Just curious about what are everyone’s favorite ways of picking up your tiny lady friend! Or conversely for us little ones, your favorite way of getting picked up by a giant?
Things like - voluntarily walking onto an open hand? Pinching her torso between two fingers? Scooping her up into the palm? Wrapping fingers around her entire body? Grabbing the leg and dangling her? Forcing her to climb up the length of the body to reach the hand?
Or any other way I’m not thinking of right now! I suppose it would also make a difference depending on her size. Maybe a fist around the waist or gently pinching her entire body between finger and thumb might be more appropriate.
I think for me it’s either getting scooped up into the palm or having fingers wrap around me like a big, warm hug.
As someone who both draws and writes, the infatuation with the AI stuff freaks me out a wee bit. And it all does feel a bit off to me, it hasn’t been the highest quality content imo, at least not yet. So I suppose I don’t really see the “point” in sharing stuff like that?
But I do get that it’s novel and interesting, I’ve played around with some of it and it can be entertaining. I don’t judge anyone for having fun with it. And I suppose I see some merit in artists being able to automate certain parts of their creative process and how AI might be able to help with that, maybe.
As far as posting here (not that it’s my call of course), I think if it’s clearly labeled as AI generated then… sure? Though if these forums became flooded with it I’m sure I’d feel frustrated as I personally don’t really have much interest in it, I’d much rather see actual artists get promoted. But that’s just my 2 cents!
Chapter 6
Aiden
I stare at the next page in the journal, the title at the top immediately catching my attention: “Human Trials.” Something about seeing that on paper gives me a horrible sinking sensation in my stomach.
There are a few separate entries, each of them quite lengthy. It looks like Dr. Little wasn’t lying about the fact that Evie was the fourth test subject. There are paragraphs of notes about the other three, detailing not so much measurements and data but qualitative information - how they behaved and reacted. I notice that all of them were women. As I continue to read… I really start to feel sick.
He would take them back to his home for “extended study.” But I’m not even sure he cared so much about actually studying much of anything; the types of experiments he documented didn’t seem to be about scientific research. Things like seeing how they’d react to extreme hot or cold, or being tied up for hours at a time. He doesn’t go into all of the details in his notes, but the further I delve the more it sounds like the experiments were actually more like… punishments. As if he was training them, somehow, like they were animals to domesticate. He’d go on about their beauty and… my brain starts to fill in the gaps. I don’t think the fact that Evie’s really pretty is a coincidence.
I try not to linger too long on any one sentence, just pushing through as I desperately hope to find some indication of him restoring these girls. But what I find instead is far more horrifying.
The first of them didn’t make it through a “stress test.”
The second ended up jumping off a table while his back was turned.
The third had never stopped shrinking.
My hands are trembling as I keep reading. All of the test trials had gone through some sort of issue where the machinery didn’t work quite right, resulting in each of the subjects not reaching the target size for the test, particularly so for the third. Dr. Little rants about this for a couple of paragraphs, venting his frustration in stilted lines on the page, about the complexities of the shrinking process for humans being too much to juggle on his own in the lab. At the bottom, in capital letters, underlined twice, he wrote “NEED ASSISTANT.”
I worry I might actually throw up. With shaky fingers I shut the book quietly and try to take a deep breath. After more than two hours of sitting here, the sun starting to set outside, I’ve reached the end of the notes with nothing to show for it. I’m shocked at the horrors that I was unknowingly going to be complicit to, and I’m completely losing hope.
It’s at this point that I look back towards the ottoman, expecting to see my classmate meticulously working as usual. But instead I see hundreds of miniscule items, fully categorized into rows and groups, a perfectly organized display… but the girl who’s sorted them is off to the side, sitting with her back to me. Head in her hands. Her shoulders shaking with suppressed sobs that are too quiet for me to hear.
It’s been a long, stressful, life-changing kind of day. I think about the other victims of the shrinking process. What could have potentially happened if Dr. Little got his way with Evie today. And then, even though I hardly know this girl, I feel a sudden surge of emotion. A desperate desire to protect her from all harm.
I move instinctively, sliding off of the couch to the floor while trying not to make any sudden or frightening motions. She hears me and her shoulders tense - I think she tries to stop herself from crying as she continues to hide her face. But try as she might, her breathing is still coming in shallow. She just can’t keep her emotions at bay anymore.
“Hey…” I say softly, my chest tight, “You’re not alone, okay? I’m here to help however I can.”
I wish I could tell her how. I wish I could fix this, or at least take her hand or give her a hug or… or something. I don’t know if I’ve ever felt this helpless in my life. I do the only thing I can think of and reach a hand over to gently brush a finger against her back.
For a moment she stiffens at my touch and I worry that I’m making things worse yet again. But then she turns, still keeping her gaze away from mine, and presses up against me, burying her face into my fingers, and she begins to sob in earnest. This sets my heart racing. I’m not sure what else to do so I just let her cry it out, using my thumb now to carefully rub up and down her back.
After a couple of minutes, Evie starts calming down, taking deep, shuddering breaths. She finally looks up at me and musters a smile. “Thanks,” she says, and she’s still so quiet, but my ears are getting better at honing in on her little voice.
“Don’t mention it,” I say, weakly smiling back. “Maybe we should call it a night soon… Are you hungry?”
“Not really. I’m just so tired…” She rubs at her eyes and lets out a sigh. “But I should probably eat something. Any luck with the notebook?"
“Um… not yet,” I say, evading the question. Now doesn’t seem like the best time to give her the details I’ve found. “I’ll go grab some food for you. Is cheese and deli meat okay?”
“Sounds good. I’m not picky.”
I go back to the kitchen to make a simple sandwich - ham, cheese, avocado. I pinch a tiny piece of it off for her, though it’s probably still bigger than her entire head. I stare at it and don’t love how rough it looks, like I just ripped off some leftovers to feed to a dog, so I take a few extra seconds to lay the mini-sandwich on a cutting board and use a knife to trim off the jagged edges. It doesn’t exactly look beautiful in the end but it’s a bit neater at least. I lay the food on a spoon in lieu of a plate and get some more water for her while I’m at it.
Evie thanks me as I set these down in front of her, and she’s stifling a yawn. She appears less upset now, at least, but definitely super fatigued.
“Yeah, you look tuckered out,” I observe with a sympathetic smile. “Want to go ahead and turn in early?”
She’s reaching past the lip of the spoon to pull off some bread and nibble at it as she stares off into space. “I don’t think my body’s going to give me much of a choice. I feel like I could pass out at any minute… again.”
“Um, let’s try to avoid you fainting this time, please.”
I watch her for a moment, a little amused at how she’s eating - instead of attempting to bite into the oversized sandwich she’s just picking off tiny bits of ham and cheese and bread as separate components, holding a crumb in both hands as she takes small bites. Like a mouse with a millet seed. She has to be actively trying to be this cute, right?
Trying to reel myself in and avoid gawking at her again, I turn my mind to next steps. It’s not even 7pm yet, but clearly we need to get this girl some sleep.
"I’ll go change out the bed sheets real quick and I can bring you over there whenever you’re ready,” I suggest.
Evie lifts her head and cocks it to the side at me, slowly processing. “…You’re offering me your bed.”
"Yeah, I can sleep here on the couch. No big deal.”
"Aiden, no, you don’t have to do that. That seems a bit ridiculous, don’t you think? With me like this?”
"Just because you’re little doesn’t mean you’re not a guest.”
She actually lets out a laugh now and okay, true, the mental image of her in a vastly oversized bed is pretty silly. It does feel good to see her smile, though.
“No, really, it’s okay,” she insists, “I think part of the reason I’m so tired is because this kind of already feels like a giant mattress… I’ll be fine here. Honestly anything bigger would probably be too overwhelming.”
“Oh. Yeah okay, I could see that.” I ponder for a second and add, “Well, I’ll at least find you something to use as a blanket… I’ll be right back."
That insistent part of me that I keep trying to push away feels a little disappointed that I don’t get to pick her up again. But I’m determined to at least do what I can to make her comfortable. I go to my bedroom and look around in the closet for anything that can work. Blankets, pillow cases, shirts - everything’s way too big. I start going through my dresser drawers, and for a moment I consider a sock since it’s at least a somewhat more appropriate size. But even though they’re clean there’s something about it that just seems gross.
I come across a well-worn T-shirt that I haven’t used in a while since it has a couple of holes in it. It’s pretty soft, though… I should probably be getting rid of it anyway, maybe now I can salvage something.
On top of the dresser are some of my office supplies that have congregated, including a pair of scissors, and I set to work cutting into the shirt. I got this from some kind of volunteer event and there’s a little logo on it in the shape of a dog… I let that adorn the bottom of this makeshift blanket, making me smile as I imagine her snuggling underneath.
I cut another strip of the fabric to fold a couple of times into a small rectangle to offer as a rudimentary pillow. I’m finding myself wishing I could sew and wonder what other little things I could make for her… assuming she’ll be staying here for any length of time, that is.
When I come back to the living room, I worry for a second that Evie really has passed out. She’s slumped onto the side of the spoon, and it looks like she’s hardly made a dent in the sandwich before giving up. She twitches at the sound of my footsteps coming in, sleepily lifting her head back up to watch me, her body tensing at my approach.
I crouch down beside her for the last time that night, setting her makeshift pillow down next to where she’s sitting, and she immediately turns to collapse onto it. I smile and get the sweet moment I’d been secretly hoping for, carefully draping the blanket I’d made over her tiny frame. I refrain from trying to tuck her in, though, too afraid of squishing her.
“I’ll leave a light on in case you need to get up at night,” I mutter, and then I see I’m losing her fast so I quickly add, “If you need anything, let me know with this.”
I set down something I’d picked up from my bedroom, a visual countdown timer that I use for studying. It’s about as tall as she is and the knob in the center should be small enough for her to maneuver without issue.
“Just turn the timer on and off and it’ll beep. I’m a light sleeper, it’ll definitely wake me up.”
Evie gazes up at me and for a second I worry she’s about to start crying again. Am I overwhelming her with too much stuff? I really need to just leave and let her sleep. But she pulls it together and forces a smile my way.
“Thank you.”
I nod and start backing off. “No problem. Good night, Evie.”
I turn on the desk lamp and turn off the overhead light, walking away as quietly as I can. Just before going into my room, I pause. I stare at the ottoman, the minuscule figure laying on it, already curled up on her side and visibly unconscious. I really don’t like leaving her by herself.
An image pops into my brain, unbidden. Her little form curled up on me instead, snoozing away on my chest as I drift off to sleep– And I’m so mortified by the thought that I immediately turn on my heel and march straight into my room.
I spend the rest of the evening on my laptop, trying to find any scrap of information that I can about the scientist responsible for all this. Google gives me nothing. I dig into all of the school records and he never actually had an association with the university, all of that was faked. So was the sponsor company he said he’d worked with. When searching the room reservations for the chemical lab we were at, I’m shocked to find his name but literally no other information. There’s no record of me being there, nor Evie, nor any of the other victims for that matter. The secrecy behind this whole thing is far more extensive than I’d realized. I feel like all I’m doing is running into dead ends.
And even when I eventually try to sleep, it doesn’t come easily. Images keep flashing in my brain. Evie writhing in Dr. Little’s grip. Fire overtaking a corpse. Evie unconscious under an oxygen mask. Notebook pages reeking of terror and death. Evie crying her heart out. Evie trembling with fear in my hand. Evie so, so small… so vulnerable…
So beautiful…
I feel like my head might split in two as a battle rages within it. Hours pass before I finally drift into a dark, uncomfortable, fitful sleep.
@miss-lillipants You know, I’m more on the shrinking side of things that you mentioned, but I honestly love reading this kind of thing. It’s just so cool to hear someone passionately talk about what excites them, I feel like I get caught up in it get a sense of appreciation for it too! I’ve actually seen a lot of giant content on DeviantArt if you’re okay with the more SFW side of things~