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ltash · 1 day

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Make a wish

You celebrated your birthday with Ghost and TaskForce and you wished for nothing but him.

"To love is nothing. To be loved is something. But to love and be loved, that’s everything."

After Captain Price and his team finished breakfast, you settled in the living room. You brought the tea trolley over and made them tea, handing a cup and saucer to everyone.

"Thank you, kid," Captain Price said as you served him.

You gave tea to Soap and Gaz too. "Ghost, you want tea?" you asked.

"Sure," he replied.

You handed him a cup as well. "Yer hoose is braw, and it's right lavish an aw." Soap admired.

"English Mctavish." Ghost facepalmed.

"I said your house is lavish and its nice." Soap explained.

"Thank you. My father built it. I'll give you a home tour once you guys finish your tea," you offered.

"She is a master in archery aye. She has horses too. She can shoot an arrow right at the aim while riding a horse," Ghost added.

"That is impressive, Nora," Gaz admired.

"Thanks. I will show you how I do it," you promised.

"Oh, I forgot," you said, suddenly remembering. "I did some shopping and the bags are still in the car. Let me fetch them."

As you made your way to your car, Ghost followed you. "The guns you bought, let me take them inside," he offered.

You opened the car doors and took out the bags while Ghost grabbed the gun cases. Together, you walked back inside.

You handed over the bags to each one of them. "Soap, this is for you. Kyle, that's one for you. This one's for Simon and Captain Price," you said, distributing the gifts.

"Thank you so much, lass," Soap said rummaging through the bag.

"Are ye pullin' ma leg? how much did ye spend on thae things?" He asked.

"Well! That is none of your business. Gifts don't come with a price tag." You folded your arms on your chest.

"Thanks, Nora, but you didn't have to put in so much effort," Kyle added, looking genuinely touched.

"Thanks, kid," Captain Price mentioned, nodding appreciatively.

"Don't mention it. I went shopping and thought, why not grab something for you guys?"

Ghost placed the gun cases down on the table. "She bought these too," he added.

Ghost opened the gun and sniper cases in front of everyone, revealing the impressive weapons inside.

"Whoa! A sniper! Are you kiddin' me?" Soap exclaimed, eyes wide with excitement. "Whit will ye dae wi' a sniper?"

"I like snipers, plus Ghost is here. He’ll teach me before he goes back. He taught me a couple of days ago," you explained with a grin.

"Wow! This is one o' the best snipers in the world," Soap said, admiring the sleek design. "Thank ye so much."

"Yeah, Ghost recommended it to me, so I got it," you said, glancing at Ghost.

Soap looked over at Ghost in disbelief. "Weel, LT himself disnae hae a sniper like this. It's much better than the ones he's got."

You smiled. "Well, now he has it."

Ghost shook his head. "No, I don't. And I don't want it anyway," he said quietly.

Soap chuckled. "Yer loss, LT. This is a beauty."

Ghost simply shrugged, the rare softness in his eyes replaced by his usual stoic expression.

"Why? It's a gift from me to you," you said, looking at Ghost.

"If you had mentioned it when you were buying it, I would have never let you get it in the first place," Ghost replied. "It's too expensive."

You shook your head. "Gifts don't come with a price tag. Captain Price, please make him understand."

"Take it, Ghost," Captain Price said, nodding.

"I can't, Price," Ghost insisted, shaking his head in disapproval.

"Okay, then throw it in the garbage, will you?" You snapped, shutting the sniper case with a bang. Your lower lip started quivering, and tears welled up in your eyes as you ran upstairs.

"You broke her heart, LT," Soap said, his voice filled with disappointment.

You closed the door and fell face-first onto the pillow, tears streaming down your face. It was so embarrassing and disappointing at the same time. Your sobs filled the room, muffled by the pillow.

A soft knock on the door interrupted your crying. "Open the door, love," Ghost said in a gentle tone.

For a moment, you hesitated, your emotions swirling inside you, but then you slowly got up and walked to the door.

You opened the door, still feeling annoyed and hurt. "What do you want?" You said, your voice tinged with frustration.

Ghost came inside and closed the door behind him. He walked over to your bed and sat down, he pat his thigh and opened his arms for you gesturing for you to come sit on his lap.

For a moment, you stood there, conflicted, but then you slowly walked over and allowed yourself to be enveloped in his comforting arms.

"You cryin', love?" Ghost asked softly.

You wiped your tears hastily. "No," you replied, trying to regain your composure.

"Hmm, I see," he said, his gaze understanding.

"Why did you embarrass me in front of your team?" You asked, your voice tinged with hurt.

"You got it for yourself, love. That's why," he replied simply.

"I can get another one for myself," You insisted.

"Okay, I'll take it, but only on one condition," he said.

"What condition exactly?" You asked, curious.

"You'll have to take mine. I'll teach you how to use it. It's smooth in my hands," he explained.

"Okay, deal!" You agreed, offering your hand to shake, but he surprised you by kissing your knuckles.

"Come, let's go downstairs," he said, taking your hand gently.

"Ghost!" You called out as he turned to leave.

He looked back at you. "Yes?"

"Do you still have your navy blue uniform, the one you wore when I saw you for the first time?" You asked, still holding his hand.

"Yes, but why do you ask?" he inquired.

"Will you wear it for me on my birthday? You look so good in that. I'll unwrap you as my gift," you said, giggling at the thought.

"Yeah, sure, but get ready to explain why I'm wearing it to my team, especially Price," he chuckled.

"Leave it to me. No worries," you assured him, and you made your way downstairs.

"Did you change your mind, LT?" Soap asked as you entered the room.

"Yes," Ghost replied, a hint of amusement in his voice.

"Good," Soap said, nodding in approval.

Meanwhile, you glanced into Captain Price's eyes, seeing a mixture of curiosity and intrigue reflecting back at you.

You led them to the back of the house where your horses were stabled.

"Meet Arther and Elfie," You introduced Soap to your beloved companions.

"Such bonnie horses," Soap remarked, admiring their beauty.

Next, you demonstrated your archery skills, drawing back the bowstring with precision and releasing it with practiced ease. Captain Price watched intently, a glint of admiration in his eyes.

"Remarkable," he exclaimed, genuinely impressed by your proficiency.

Ghost retrieved his sniper rifle and handed it to you. "Try it," he encouraged.

You hesitated, feeling the weight of the weapon in your hands. With his guidance, you took aim, your finger hovering over the trigger. The rifle trembled slightly as you pulled, but you managed to hit the target, albeit not as accurately as you had hoped.

"It's not easy," you admitted, feeling a twinge of disappointment.

"But you did well, considering," Ghost reassured you, his tone encouraging.

You smiled gratefully, grateful for his support.

As the evening descended, the cake was delivered, marking the beginning of your birthday celebration. Your house help had meticulously arranged all the decorations and table settings before bidding you farewell for the night.

Meanwhile, Captain Price took the opportunity to discuss their upcoming mission with his team, their voices low and serious as they strategized.

Feeling a mix of excitement and nervousness, you retreated to your room to change into your birthday dress. The corset that came with it proved to be a challenge as you struggled to zip it up on your own. Frustrated, you knocked on Ghost's door, hoping for assistance.

He opened the door, and your jaw dropped at the sight before you. He had changed into the navy blue uniform, looking incredibly attractive in it.

"What happened?" he asked, noticing your expression.

You entered his room and closed the door behind you. "Simon, can you please help me zip my dress? I can't reach it," you requested, feeling a rush of embarrassment.

Standing in front of the mirror, you were almost ready, the dress clinging to your figure. He stepped behind you, his presence towering over yours. The corset accentuated your petite frame, making you feel even smaller in comparison.

His gloved hand brushed against the bare skin of your back as he took hold of the zipper, and you sucked in a breath at the unexpected sensation. Your heart raced as you felt the warmth of his touch, his closeness sending shivers down your spine.

He zipped up your dress smoothly, his voice breaking the silence. "You're good now," he said softly, his words lingering in the air between you.

"Thank you," you murmured gratefully as you turned around. He put his index finger beneath your chin and tilted your head up meeting his gaze.

"Ready to be be my good girl tonight. Will ya?" His masked lips touched your cheek.

You blushed and ran towards the door. Standing at the doorway you peaked a last glance at him. You exited Ghost's room and returned to your own.

As Ghost stepped out of his room, he encountered Soap making his way upstairs.

"Going on a mission, LT?" Soap teased, noting Ghost's uniform.

"Yes, birthday mission," Ghost quipped in response.

"Seriously! Why are you wearing your uniform?" Soap inquired, his curiosity piqued.

"Because she asked me to wear it," Ghost explained simply.

"Hmm, I see. She likes you in it," Soap remarked before continuing downstairs, leaving Ghost to ponder his words.

They all waited for you downstairs, their anticipation palpable in the air. With a final glance in the mirror, you made sure everything was perfect before slipping on your heels and descending the staircase.

As you reached the bottom step, you were greeted by their warm smiles.

"Here she is," Captain Price announced, his voice carrying a note of pride.

"Wow! Lass, you're looking so beautiful," Soap complimented, his eyes twinkling with admiration.

"Thank you," you replied, feeling a blush creeping up your cheeks at his kind words.

You couldn't help but notice Ghost's gaze fixed on you, practically staring. His intense scrutiny made you feel vulnerable, as if he was seeing right through you. Yet, amidst the intensity, there was a glimmer of admiration in his stare, a silent acknowledgment that spoke volumes.

"Make a wish, lass," Soap chuckled, gesturing towards the candles on the cake.

Closing your eyes, you made a silent wish. A wish for Simon to be yours forever, for his safety, and for him to return to you unscathed from every mission.

With a deep breath, you blew out the candles, the room erupting into cheers and the chorus of "Happy Birthday."

As you opened your eyes, you felt a rush of warmth and gratitude wash over you. It truly was the best day of your life after your father's death.

Captain Price stepped forward, presenting you with a small box. You opened it eagerly to reveal a beautiful, delicate metallic quartz watch nestled inside.

"Thank you! It's so precious," you exclaimed, touched by the thoughtful gift.

As you all enjoyed the cake and then indulged in dinner, Captain Price suddenly cleared his throat, directing his attention to Ghost. "Simon, why are you wearing your uniform?" His question caught Ghost off guard, but before he could respond, you jumped in to explain.

"Actually, I asked him to wear that for my birthday. I was curious to see him in uniform," you said, offering Ghost a reassuring smile. His eyes crinkled from behind the balaclava he was wearing, a silent acknowledgment of his amusement.

"Alright, gentlemen, want something to drink? Please, help yourselves," you announced, rising from your seat and making your way to the bar. You took out the glasses, giving them a moment to process the exchange.

Soap and Ghost then took the dishes to the kitchen while the rest of you settled in the garden, enjoying the pleasant evening. Soap, with his characteristic sense of humor, regaled you all with his silly jokes, eliciting laughter from all of you.

"Hey LT, what has five toes and is not your foot?" Soap said.

"What?" Ghost asked.

"My foot!." Soap said and burst out laughing.

You couldn't control your laughter too. Soap was so funny.

"Your turn LT". Soap pointed towards Ghost.

"What do we call the fish who wears a bow tie?" Ghost asked.

You looked at each other's faces.

"Sofishticated." Ghost said.

Nobody laughed.

"What? Wasn't it funny?" Ghost said.

He was met with silence.

As the night grew late, you found myself sitting beside Ghost. His hand resting on the small of your back while everybody was busy talking.

He turned to look at you. Your blue eyes met with his caramel ones.

You stood up and went to stand at the door, feeling a wave of exhaustion wash over you.

"Aye! Come join us," Ghost called out, noticing your presence.

"No, you enjoy yourself. I'm going to bed now," you replied, turning around to head upstairs.

But before you could take another step, Ghost approached you and grabbed your wrist. "Hi, Lieutenant," you teased, your voice soft and playful.

You placed your hands on his chest, tilting your chin up to look at him. "Hell, if you put a bullet through my heart, I will spare you my life," you retorted, a smile playing on your lips.

You took the whiskey glass from his hand and placed your lips at the same spot he drank from and chug it at once.

You turned to go upstairs, but Ghost surprised you by grabbing you around the waist, causing you to squeak in surprise.

"Is everything alright there?" Captain Price's voice rang out from the garden.

"Yes, everything is fine, Price," Ghost replied calmly, his gaze locked on yours.

With a swift motion, Ghost lifted you into his arms and carried you upstairs, his strength both surprising and comforting.

"Your room or mine?" he asked with a playful smirk, his eyes dancing with mischief.

Pic credit:

IG: Vehenan Virabelasan

#cod ghost #ghost call of duty #ghost cod #simon ghost riley #simon riley #call of duty #modern warfare #modern warfare 2 #ghost x reader #ghost x y/n #task force 141 #task force x reader

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save-the-villainous-cat · 18 hours

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Hello! Could you possibly write a villain that saves hero from a very unfortunate situation. Maybe hero isn't very accepting at first, whether villain forces it or they end up accepting is up to u. Lmao I need some hurt comfort 😭 ty <3 if not it's okie

tw: mention of suicide

"You're a fool if you think I'll let you do this," the villain said. They took the vial from the now totally trembling hero and grabbed their enemy's jaw. "What on earth makes you this is our only solution?"

"'They said...they would let them go if my body..."

"Since when do you listen to anything a criminal has to say?" they asked. The villain could tell the hero was burning out like a candle with no wax left. They could tell the hero was getting fed up with their job and the responsibilities but they would have never thought it to be possible that the hero was willing to sacrifice themselves in such a meaningless and undignified way.

"It's the only way to save those people. The agency agreed, so..." The hero swallowed and the villain could see the tears gather in their eyes. "...so the medics gave me this. It's supposed to be quick and painless."

"Yeah, fuck that." The villain let the small vial fall to the ground and crushed it under their boot. To their surprise, the hero didn't seem to care at all but the villain supposed they had other ways of getting more of it anyway. "The terms of surrender include you presenting yourself on a silver plate. You have to use that to your advantage."

"It's not very advantageous to be dead," the hero said. "They have fifty people. Fifty. Fifty in exchange for one. If you ask me, that's a good deal."

"Not when that person is you," the villain said. They sat down on the couch in the hero's office. The hero wouldn't have called them if they had been sure and confident in this solution. Instead the almost hysterical call had made the villain's blood boil. "Come on. Help me out here. They want your dead body on their porch so they will let go of all these hostages? What a pathetic demand. Play with that. Use that."

"I don't know how," the hero said and when the villain stared at the desperation behind their eyes, the villain realised that this maybe wasn't the time for a challenge but rather for encouragement. They weren't good at the latter but they supposed they'd give it all for their enemy.

"You have to make them think you are playing their game. Deliver something to them to lure them out of their cave. Maybe it's a fake? Maybe it's actually your body your medics can make look dead? And then once they believe they have won, you sink your teeth into them," the villain said. "But giving up just like that?"

They shook their head, clicking with their tongue.

"Believe me, it's better this way," the hero said. "I am a burden to the agency, they will gladly get rid of me."

"You are challenging the agency because I challenge you. There is nothing wrong with trying to improve. Even a seemingly perfect institution has its flaws."

The hero didn't answer, they just stared at the liquid on the floor and the shards. The villain closed their eyes, thinking.

If the hero was so determined to save these people and willing to give their own life for them, they needed to realise that their death would provoke more sacrifices. On average, the hero saved 10 to 20 people a week. Statistically speaking, if no one took over their job, it wouldn't matter at all if the hero saved these people. Quite the contrary. Without the hero, there would be a fair amount of bodies.

But the villain didn't want to say that. It made the hero sound like a machine, like a thing that needed to operate in order to establish peace in the city. The hero wasn't replacable like that.

And above all, that wasn't what the hero wanted either.

"Come here," the villain said and the hero did walk over to them. These days they were cautious of every step they took. The villain was reminded of a time before that. When both of them were younger, both of them ambitious and eager to fight for their beliefs. The hero used to be so full of joy, a fire within them that was contagious to the villain. They were reminded of a hero that was never ready to give up.

"Sit down." The hero did. Right next to them. The villain leaned back, one arm on the backrest while they lounged. Admittedly, they had thought often about the hero and this couch. But they would never say that aloud. "When I met you, I thought you were going to be an easy target. I thought you were one of those jobs were I would barely have to lift a finger. But you were everything but. Your resistance is astonishing."

"I am not that person anymore."

"You are," the villain said. "That's why you called me in the first place. Usually your defiance turns into raw action every enemy should fear. But today, that defiance was a simple phone call. You said you wanted to say goodbye but I don't believe you. You were asking me for help. Deep within, you were afraid of the idea of giving yourself up like that. Somewhere deep within, you yearned for defiance, even if someone had to help you a little."

The hero didn't say anything at first. Now more than ever, they seemed to listen to a criminal. The villain knew that putting any more pressure on the hero might cause them to crack. They still had to be careful.

And it didn't even matter if the villain was right. They just had to make the hero believe that they were.

Usually, the villain used manipulation to get closer to their goals but they supposed for once in their life, they could use manipulation for the better. For the hero.

"If you want to give up, that's fine. Get another vial. Make it all stop. But I know that is not who you truly are. You wouldn't have swallowed that poison even if I hadn't come. You just wanted an excuse," they said. "I truly believe you would drag yourself through hell just out of spite. It's in your nature to defy. It's in your nature to protest. To use nails and teeth if you have to."

They took the hero's hand and squeezed.

"Giving up has never been an option for you. You will never allow yourself to quit." They let their thumb run over the hero's skin. "But you didn't need me to tell you all this, did you?"

"I did need you to tell me this," the hero said. They looked exhausted. But definitely more determined. "I don't know if you're right. I don't know if I would have taken the poison."

"I do," the villain lied. "You are stronger than you realize."

Now, the hero smiled softly.

"You really think that?"

"I do," the villain said and this time, they weren't lying. They leaned over and took the hero's chin anew. They turned the hero's head until they were eye to eye. "Thank you for calling me."

The hero's eyes dropped to the villain's lips but the villain knew this wasn't the right time.

They let go of the hero, their heart beating hard in their chest as the adrenaline rushed through their veins.

"Let's save some civilians, hm?"

#thank you for requesting #I really needed to write this today #for my sanity yknow #writing snippet #heroxvillain snippet #heroxvillain prompt #heroes and villains #hero #villain #heroxvillain #hero x villain #request #an answer for an ask #tw: suicide

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ratcatcher0325 · 1 day

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A Fraction of Justice (Chapter #32)

Chapter #32. Alexander has a new obstacle in his way: Charles. Will he find a way to get rid of him or will he be surprised by what he finds?

Previous: Chapter #31

Next: Chapter #33

Word Count: 7,671 Read Time: Approx. 60+ mins

CW: adult language

Btw, DM me if you wanna be added to the tag list!

___________________________________

A Fraction of Justice

Chapter #32: An Uneasy Alliance

[Alexander’s POV]

The warmth from her hand still lingered along my back and over my chest where she’d planted her thumb. A cool rush of air replaced her touch as she set me back on my feet on the lacquered table’s surface. She’d leaned in, her teasing whisper rustling my hair as she ran her finger over my chest before I’d batted it away. My heart usually beat to a faster rhythm whenever I was plucked up or put down. That was the natural consequence of sudden, vertical movement, after all. So why was it still knocking at my ribs now that I was settled? My face felt flushed and hot, my hair askew, and I could tell my shirt was twisted around my body at an unflattering angle, yet I couldn’t tear my eyes from hers.

When she’d held me in her palm, gliding her fingers over my body, she’d trained her gaze on me in such a manner that it suddenly became difficult for my lungs to take in air. What was she thinking? Why was she looking at me like that? Why hadn’t she stopped, now that she’d released me from her grip?

I wanted nothing more than to be able to read her mind and to keep my own from racing far beyond the bounds I was comfortable with.

As she gazed down at me, seeming to tower a mile above despite being no more than a foot or two away, I felt completely rooted to the spot; a sensation, in any other instance, I would feel deeply resentful towards. She’d called me incredible, brave… I’d choose to ignore the mention of adorable… for now.

As my thoughts swam, she tucked her chin into the heel of the hand I’d just occupied, and for some reason, I didn’t mind that she held me captive with her gaze. In fact, I couldn’t help but notice her other hand, which rested just out of my reach on the table beside me. Did her finger and thumb twitch when I glanced at them over my shoulder?

There went my heart again, leaping into my throat. What was this feeling? Was something wrong with me? Was I on the verge of getting sick? I felt lightheaded and unsteady on my feet.

I clenched my jaw. I hated being out of control of my physical response to outer stimuli.

Just as the corner of her lips raised the smallest fraction of a smirk, and the hand that was far too close and much, much too far away at the same time, shifted toward me ever so slightly, we both heard the echo of distant footsteps from down the hall. I wondered if they sounded as thunderous to her as they did to me, as they practically throttled me from this kinetic moment of connection and snapped me back to my dissatisfactory reality.

I crossed my arms over my chest, feeling my shoulders rise towards my ears as the chill I’d just observed across my body boiled over and my head rushed with heat.

Not him again.

For a few blessed moments, I’d forgotten about him entirely.

His clattering footfalls made my jaw ache as my scowl deepened. Wasn’t it time he let us be? What was he here for, anyway? What business did he have in continuing to disrupt our routine?

Heat continued cascading off of me in palpable, fluctuating waves as he appeared in the threshold of the kitchen. I deeply regretted the lack of another sharp object to ward him off.

As he crossed toward us, growing ever larger within my field of vision, I hated that I could feel the impact of his wooden soles on the linoleum floor as they rattled the table ever so slightly. The passage of his body through space rustled my hair and filled my nostrils with that infuriatingly sharp scent of soap and cinnamon.

I set my jaw, craning my neck to maintain my icy stare, refusing to flinch as he cast a shadow over me.

The awkwardness was palpable, each of us testing the waters after the storm had ceased. As the man in the bloodied sweater returned to his seat, in the very same position where I had berated him for his ignorance just minutes ago, I could see in the depths of his eyes that a thought was percolating within him. Just what it was, I couldn’t be sure. I jumped at the chance to control the conversation, before he could get a word in.

Squaring my shoulders and tipping my chin, I raised my voice to reach him, “So, did we learn something from our time out?”

“Alexander!”

“Naw, he’s right… You did kinda send me to the corner, Nat!” The man flashed a smile at her. Damn. He took that in a far better stride than I’d hoped. I felt his eyes descend on me again. I couldn’t help a subtle snarl curling the corners of my mouth. He continued, “To answer your question: yeah. I had some more time to think, and I just wanted to say I’m sorry, again. You really kinda put me in my place back there and helped put things into perspective. I guess I can see how hard it must be for you to feel like people ever hear you or take you seriously. I get wanting that, and being pretty defensive about it.”

Spare me the lecture… and, besides, it took you long enough, dimwit. Although I had to admit, this slightly more enlightened Charles gave me less cannon fodder for verbal volleys and I was left rather disappointed. I’d just need to search more closely for a slip up.

He cleared his throat, snapping me from my inner thoughts and cast a glance at the woman to my left, nodding slightly as though going through a routine they’d rehearsed together. Slowly, he presented his closed fist, palm upwards, to me. I hated that it was bigger than my entire body.

As if of their own accord, my features twisted into a scowl.

The encroaching hand stopped a bit too close for comfort as fingers unfurled to reveal a metallic object, thin, rigid and embarrassingly small in the center of his palm.

I flashed my gaze upwards to read his expression, only to be greeted by a pathetic excuse for a smile. He was clearly unsettled: good.

Life would be considerably better if all humans responded that way to me.

I could feel his bespectacled eyes still trained on me, as he wrestled with himself to speak, “… Go on… you can take it… I won’t bite.”

“Thank you for granting me permission!” I snapped, my voice dripping with sarcasm. I hoped the implication that I would be more than happy to use my teeth as a negotiation tactic was clear enough to go without saying.

He stole a glance at Natalie, who to my great satisfaction, gave him no respite and simply raised her brows and shrugged her shoulders, as if to say: You deserved that. Points for Natalie.

Taking advantage of the fact that his gaze was temporarily elsewhere, I leaned forward, arching my body to avoid touching him, and snatched the cane from his palm. The metal was warm to the touch and a bit damp.

Disgusting.

I couldn’t help but scowl.

I pulled back as quickly as I’d lunged forward, taking the object with me. I had no desire to be within reach of this human I still saw as an adversary.

I’d hoped he would jump in surprise at my sudden movement, but to my utter frustration, it seemed he didn’t even notice it was gone. Was its weight really that negligible to him?

Without thinking twice, I held the cane by its grip, extending its arm along the length of his little finger. And with a precise swiftness, I raised the mobility aid and cracked it down on the tip of his pinky, where the nerves were dense and sensitive.

That certainty got his attention.

“Ow!!” He whisked his hand away, pinching his injured digit between finger and thumb. He looked pathetic like that. Cowering before a man a fraction his size. I loved it. He stared down at me with a grimace, “What was that for?!”

“Clumsy me!” I shrugged, doing my best to hide the smug smile that threatened to paint my features. I tapped my right ankle with the heel of the cane, “This damned leg makes it hard to balance, sometimes!” I flashed him a devilishly angelic grin.

Charles’ eyes widened, before his lips pressed into a thin line. He looked as though he was about to speak, but then chose not to engage. That was the correct choice.

At the same moment, Natalie cleared her throat. I knew precisely what look of disapproval awaited me before I turned over my shoulder to see it for myself. I stared unflinchingly right back at her, my hand upon my hip, my brow arched to provoke a challenge.

She knew better than to test her willpower against mine, and looked to the man nursing his finger as though it’d just been sliced from his hand.

“So—“ she was desperate for a subject change, but lacked the imagination to pull it off.

I could help with that!

“So!” I butted in, flourishing with my free arm over my head to garner attention, since, of course, my voice would never manage to top hers no matter how much I yelled, “—So, did your intrusion have an overarching purpose or will you be leaving now?” I took a few steps toward him, neck craned to meet his gaze. His jaw hung open slightly, looking completely incredulous.

“Alexander!” She chastised.

“Natalie!” I bit back.

“You can’t just ask people to leave the second they come over!”

“He’s been here for over an hour, that’s more than enough for a social call!”

There was a slight rattle from the table as the man in question threw his hands up, “Hold on a second. Look, I know this is all my fault…” Correct. “...Barging in here unannounced…” Exhibit A.”... Condescending to your house guest who has the brains of a scholar and the soul of a possessed Chihuahua…” Exhibit B. Deemed admissible, as it was not altogether inaccurate. “...And now I’m making things worse by sticking around when I’m clearly not wanted…” Bingo! Exhibit C. Idiots were capable of learning after all!

I cleared my throat and smiled, “Well, perfect! I’m glad we can see eye to eye on this. It’s been far from a pleasure! Goodbye!” I waved generously, about to turn my back on him, when—

“No, no, wait! Hear me out!”

UGH! My shoulders slumped as I turned regretfully back to face him.

“... Look, I get that I have some, well, a lot of making up to do. The second I laid eyes on you I just saw what I wanted to see. I saw your size first, and nothing else. You don’t like me. I get it. You’ve made that abundantly clear. And, I admit, I made a pretty bad first impression. But… listen, I’m still Natalie’s friend. She’s been there for me through some really tough times and, like it or not, now she’s kinda stuck with me. The whole reason I let myself in was just to check on her, since she hadn’t been to class for a long while and wasn’t responding to my messages. I’m sorry for taking you by surprise and, well, you know, not taking you seriously. But, if you’re a part of her life now, I wanna be supportive of that. Like, truly supportive. You know?” Why did I feel a sharp dig in the pit of my stomach when he mentioned how close they were? And anyway this was all saccharinely sentimental. Was he done yet? “... So… let me make it up to you. Let me help!”

My brow furrowed and I turned to catch Natalie’s equally confused expression. I addressed him while he fished for something in his pocket, “What help? We don’t need your–”

Before I could finish, his gigantic fist presented itself before me once more, unfurling massive fingers until it spilt its contents on the table’s surface.

A cascade of cardboard and leather, leaflets of paper, and spines cracking on wood pierced my ears. Tumbling out of his hand was a pile of my notebooks, perhaps half a dozen, filled cover to cover with copious notes.

********************************

I watched the scene play out between my dear friend and the little man on the table as if from behind a screen. As soon as Charles’s hand returned to his lap and the tiny mountain of miniature journals settled at the equally miniature man’s feet, I found myself feeling just as confused as before.

Alexander, however, always quicker on the draw at, well, pretty much everything it seemed, was already opening his mouth to respond, his little chest puffed as his face turned red.

Charles had clearly anticipated this, raising his hands up defensively, “Wait, wait, wait! Before you get mad. I didn’t read them! I– I couldn’t… the writing is… uh, well, you know…” Alexander crossed his arms over his chest and arched a brow, his lips tight and tense, pressuring Charles to continue, “Well, okay… one of the diagrams you’d drawn matched Nat’s open notebook, so I put two and two together… but the more I thumbed through, I could tell with how filled up these things are and all the tabs and creases and notes in the margins, you aren’t just regurgitating Nat’s lectures here. When I saw these at first, and, pardon my ignorance, but I was just kinda amazed that it seems like you’re studying as much as she is. Like, is that why she wanted to keep you a secret? Are you the one that’s helping her bump her grades up? But, the way you spoke, when you were tearing me a new asshole, which I deserved… You were using legal jargon. You were cross-examining me. It was… You knew way too much for someone who’s just been sitting at Nat’s elbow and learning secondhand from some out of context online courses. These aren’t class notes. They’re case notes, aren’t they? You’re working on something, aren’t you?” Charles’s eyes were ablaze. He was enthused at having solved a mystery, yes, but I could see a certain respect, an admiration even, for one student of the law to another.

The flush of blood that had risen to Alexander’s cheeks had now drained and he looked pale, and almost frightened. It was a version of him I hadn’t seen since those days right before and after the surgery. He looked caught, wary, defensive, as though the top had been blown off all his well-kept secrets. Remembering how hesitant he’d been with me to share his past legal studies, I understood his dilemma.

He couldn’t have any random human he didn’t know or trust yet knowing about his intentions, his ambitions, his goals. What if they found a way to use his greatest wishes against him?

Poor Alexander.

I suddenly remembered that fateful afternoon where I’d reached for him and he’d collapsed into himself, quaking, as though I was going to beat him within an inch of his life. His road to get here had been far from easy. That much was obvious. He had every right to decide what he would and wouldn’t share.

I watched as tiny fingers searched to trace his lower lip. How I loved that funny little habit of his.

Charles relieved him of the obligation by cracking a smile and with a terrible attempt at a British accent, quoted, “All right, then, keep your secrets…”

Alexander’s head whipped up, brow deeply furrowed, mouth tight and downturned. He’d completely missed the reference Charles was making. It was clear he thought he was being made fun of. A cardinal sin in Alexander’s book, I knew.

Before I had a chance to clarify and save him from earning another battle scar, Charles swooped in to damage control, trying to explain, “Aww, c’mon, man! Frodo? In that opening scene in the first movie?”

If the little man on the table had articulated ears they would’ve shot forward at this moment.

Little nerd. I told ya you two had more in common than you think.

Charles continued, “Look, I figured with how big a fan Nat is, she would’ve forced you to watch the extended editions of all the films at least ten times by now!”

Alexander’s blue eyes widened to perfect circles, as his voice pitched higher than normal, “Th-There are… M-” He cleared his throat, furrowing his brow and attempting to play it cool, continued, “Uh, ahem, I mean… They made movies out of the books?” Oh my god what a fanboy.

“Well… Yeah! Dude, you’ve been here with Nat for how long?” Charles whipped to me, eyes aglow with that mischievous gleam I’d always admired in him, “You’ve had him how fuckin’ long and you’ve NEVER shown him the best cinematic journey of our modern times?!”

My face flushed, “I… What? Don’t look at me like that! C’mon, cut me some slack! We’ve been just a little bit busy!”

“Nat! What the hell is wrong with you? You HAVE to show him. What have you been doing all this time? OH! We could all do a marathon again! I could bring over my deluxe editions! Remember? Your Freshman year? We stayed up until 9 am the next morning watching every extended edition back to back…”

“Oh my GOD! Yes!” I couldn’t believe I’d forgotten about that entirely, “I had to time all my pee breaks for whenever Boromir was onscreen… I don’t care that he got a valiant death, fuck that guy!”

“And remember that dude you were kinda into? The one with the weird hair? He kept doing a Gandalf voice for every goddamn line–”

“It wasn’t even GOOD! Major turn off! I did not like him after that night!”

“Yeah, fuck that guy!” Charles raised his glass to cheer me.

“EXCUSE ME!!!” A tiny yet commanding voice cut our reminiscing short, “We are glossing over an EXTREMELY IMPORTANT DETAIL HERE! Can we get back to what actually matters?! You’re telling me that humans have made motion picture films of J.R.R Tolkien’s master work? As in, an actual visual depiction of the stories? Is it all of them?” “--Well, we don’t acknowledge the existence of the Hobbit movies…” Charles raised his brows and took a swig of his, undoubtedly by now, watered down drink.

“Shut up! They’re not THAT BAD!” I brushed him off before resting my chin on my forearm to get closer to the little man on the table, “Yes, Alexander, they made movies of all the books–”

“WHY HAVEN’T YOU SHOWN THEM TO ME?!” Poor thing, he was beside himself.

“Wait, Alex, have y–”

With the ferocity of a snarling beast, the little man’s head whipped to the right, his tiny pointer finger jabbing the space between his form and Charles. Without missing a beat, he snapped, “Alexander. My name is Alexander!” He spoke in a condescending tone, slowly and with emphasis as though speaking to a particularly idiotic child, “Not Alex. Not Al. Not Xandy…” He spit that one directly at me with a fire from the depths of his tiny soul, “Al-ex-an-der.”

“Woah, o-kay. Seems I hit a nerve there. Sorry, Alexander. What I was gonna ask was, have you actually read the Lord of the Rings?”

I expected Alexander to berate him again, but, instead he broke out into hysterical laughter. Charles looked completely baffled, wondering what he’d said to get such a reaction, “H-Have I read Lord of the Rings? You poor ignorant bastard! What sort of a question is that?” His laughter suddenly ceased and he became gravely serious, “Give me any of the battle cries within the canon. From the siege of Minas Tirith, to the Battle of Erebor, I can quote it for you, verbatim.” The tiny man, somehow looking far more sophisticated than the sweatpants and shirt he wore, had now settled into a profound aura of self righteousness, lips pursed, brows knit. He may never be able to beat someone big like Charles in hand to hand combat, but this was his alternative to throwing down the gauntlet.

He was hungering for a way to show off.

Little Nightmare. I couldn’t help smiling from ear to ear.

“He’s not messing around.” Charles shifted in his seat, clasping his hands beneath his chin, before leaning forward and smirking, “Okay, sir: Theodin. Battle of Helm’s Deep. Go.”

“Ha! That’s far too easy! And, technically, its official name is the Battle of Hornburg. That’s a common misconception. An easy mistake to make, of course, for an amatuer fan.”

Charles’s jaw dropped in playful shock, “Did he just call me an–”

Before he could finish, Alexander proudly recited the speech, word for word, beat for beat, with an ease and a grace known only to someone with total confidence in what he was doing.

My heart melted into a puddle at my feet.

“Oh my fucking god…” Charles burst into a grin. “That was awesome!” He offered his fist to bump and Alexander just sort of leaned in the opposite direction, regarding the hand hovering before him with distrust and confusion.

Sensing he was lost, I tried to help, “You’re supposed to bump it, with your fist, like this!” Demonstrating, I pressed both of my fists together.

Alexander’s eyes sunk behind their lids in an expression of exasperated deadpan, “Why on earth would I do that? You look stupid!”

“Awww come on, man. That was cool as shit. I’m not even sure if I know that whole speech just off the top of my head. You clearly know your shit. I respect that.”

I watched for the receiving end’s microscopic movements, the tensing of his jaw as he tried to hide the ghost of a smirk that dared to present itself. Doing his best to play it cool, he swallowed, rolled his eyes and begrudgingly pressed his clenched fist against the knuckle of the much larger man’s.

Satisfied, Charles pulled away and took another swig of his drink, before addressing me, “So, did you–?”

“Oh! Me? No, no. I take no credit for any of the brilliance you see before you. He just showed up in my pantry one day exactly like that.” I leaned down again to look the little nightmare in his eyes, only to discover the surface of the table seemed suddenly deeply intriguing to him, “He’s way better read than either of us. He's quick to remind me of that on a daily basis.”

That made him smirk in spite of himself. Halfway joking and halfway with complete sincerity, he met my gaze and sighed, exasperated, bringing back an argument we’d had at least ten times before, “How are you a college graduate and you don’t know who Aeneas is?! What’re they teaching you?!”

“See what I mean?” I gestured broadly to the little blue eyed menace.

Charles enjoyed quite a laugh at my expense. Ugh, now I had two mega-nerds to gang up on me, fantastic, “Well, clearly we can all appreciate some good storytelling, so... For real, I’m serious about bringing the movies over. You, of all the nerds, deserve to see them!”

Alexander paused, deciding whether this was acceptable to him or not. He brushed his bangs from his eyes before finally addressing the man towering above him, “... I suppose I’d tolerate your presence again under those extremely limited circumstances. Though don’t misconstrue this as some sort of alliance. I still hold you in disdain.”

“Awww, not even after the Tolkien bonding moment?” Charles jokingly pouted with a quivering lip, as Alexander gave him the hardest stare a pair of eyes at that scale were capable of making. The larger man dropped it with a sigh, “Alright, fine. But, hey, no one said you had to like me for me to try and help. I’m not kidding about that ‘totally not a case’ you have going on. Let me do what I can to move the needle. I mean, I’ve already passed the bar and am working towards landing a partnership someday. Maybe, I dunno, maybe I’ll have some insight on it.”

That’s when it hit me like a sudden flash of light in a previously pitch black room.

“Wait… oh my god!” I straightened up from leaning on the table, both men turned to me with rapt attention, “I can’t believe I didn’t think of it till now… Charles, your dad, his firm… he could sponsor us!”

“IF we have a case!” Alexander reminded me through gritted teeth.

“Right. Hypothetically. I mean your dad could help, right? In a hypothetical scenario if a law student without a degree wants to engage in a civil suit, that student must be sponsored by a professor or practicing attorney in good standing. And let’s face it, until this past semester I haven’t exactly been a model student, and even then I’ve been skipping class. I mean, the hypothetical student…”

“You’re a painfully terrible liar, Natalie.” Alexander’s ever critical little voice once again rang in my ears.

“Ugh, I know, Alexander, shut up!” I rolled my eyes at the little nightmare before addressing the man in the bloodied sweater beside me, “But you said you wanted to help. This is how! It could be the key to really getting this out there! If Alexander decides he wants to share it with you, that is.”

“Woah, woah, woah. Slow down. I meant like… looking over your arguments or reviewing paperwork… I dunno about–” he threw his hands up in a defensive posture, before a little voice below him demanded his attention.

“—Charles…” Alexander shuffled forward, his free hand motioning for the bigger man to lean in closer. Charles hesitated for a moment, eyeing the aluminum cane in the tiny man’s grip and clearly questioning if this was all a set up to earn him a sharp smack across the nose or face. Eventually, hesitantly, at Alexander’s increasing persistence and ever more emphatic gestures, he leaned down closer. When he settled, Alexander continued, his voice a piercing whisper, “Does the concept of ‘integrity’ mean nothing to you? Am I to understand your word means nothing? When you said you earnestly wanted to make up for your frankly egregious behavior did you lie?”

Charles pulled away, pouting with his arms crossed. Why did he look like a kid getting told off by the principal? A very, very tiny principal, no less, “Aww, c’mon, this isn’t fair! I do want to help. I swear! I just—“

“—Well, then. What’re you waiting for?” Alexander bit back with equal but opposing conviction.

Charles stammered for a worthy excuse before arriving at what he seemed to think was an ace up his sleeve, “You haven’t even told me about the case!”

“‘Inconsequential! This is a hypothetical scenario, remember?”

“Well, hypothetically, and… regular-thetically… My dad hates my fucking guts so…”

Alexander flashed a glance at me, a wicked gleam in his eye, “What, did you spend too much money on cable knit sweaters?” His little chin jutted and a self-satisfied, crooked smile brightened his face. Ever the insult comedian.

“No! Man… I–” Charles looked on the verge of spilling his guts, and then, abruptly, “You know what? It doesn’t matter. You won’t care about my sob story, anyway. And why should you? After the way I acted, I don’t blame you for not giving a shit. Suffice it to say, I’m not exactly my dad’s golden child anymore, so…”

“And what regrettable faux pas did you commit to fall from his good graces?” Alexander, ever the expert at subtly navigating emotionally sensitive subjects.

“I didn’t do anything. Let’s just say he doesn’t… approve of me…”

“Ah…” the little man paused, the wind knocked from his sails. His face twisted into a mixture of a grimace and an attempt at a mask of sympathy, “That… does sound… difficult.” There was a hollow ring of recognition in Alexander’s voice that made me wince for him. He was no stranger to that feeling. Poor man. Both of them, for that matter.

“You don’t have to throw me a pity party or anything. It is what it is. I’m just saying I can’t just walk up to him and ask for a sponsorship, pretty please…. Again, it’s not like what you’re dealing with, or anything. I can’t imagine…”

“No. I… I can understand what it’s like not to… measure up… to expectations.”

“Yeah?” Charles seemed pleasantly surprised to find this common ground with the man who neasured no taller than the liquor glass he stood beside. He even managed a soft smile towards Alexander as he continued, speaking in genuine earnest, “You’ll have to tell me about it sometime. If you deem me worthy, of course. Cheers to solidarity through mutual suffering, huh?”

He offered a toast of his glass and a wink. I expected Alexander to find some fault with this, however, instead, with a curt nod of understanding, he raised an invisible glass. I could feel the tension in the room melting with each passing moment. Thank god these boys aren’t going to kill each other after all… at least, not for now.

Charles passed his gaze between us both, before shuffling out of his seat, “Well, I think I’ve far overstayed my welcome. Sorry, again, for all the ruckus I caused. I certainly wasn’t expecting… well, yeah, this all was gonna go way differently in my head. But, hey, Alexander I need you to make sure she…” he pointed at me with a smirk, “…texts me to set up a movie marathon, because you haven't lived till you’ve seen Aragorn ride into battle! Hold her to it for me, will you?” Alexander nodded doing his level best to keep up the mask of cool indifference about the whole thing, while Charles continued, “And, I will consider broaching the subject of your ‘hypothetical case’ with my father if you can present me with a solid argument. Alright?”

Alexander’s words seemed to catch in his throat as his little jaw went slack. He shook his head as if to break himself free from his own disbelief, “…W-wait… You’re, you’re actually serious?” I could hear the distrust in his voice. I knew firsthand how quick he was to assume an offer of help was somehow a trap or just empty words.

Charles seemed to understand this, as he lowered himself back down into a crouch, propping his chin along his forearm, “Was Samwise serious when he pledged his loyalty to Frodo?”

I could swear I saw that little blonde man’s face go pink to the tips of his ears. He raised his brows, slicked his hair back, adjusted the collar of his shirt and with a truly Herculean attempt to hide the joyous smile that threatened to show how truly delighted he was, finally sputtered, “You have yourself a deal!” He thrust his hand forward, offering a handshake to make it official.

Charles’ face lit up at the gesture, before casting a glance up in my direction. I mouthed the words “thank you” before the little man below demanded our attention once more.

“Ahem, come on, let’s shake and be done then…” he stared at the wood grain beneath his feet as he said this. Charles, ever so gently, reached his pointer finger forward, and just as he was about to make contact with the far smaller hand, Alexander pulled back, “And don’t think this makes us fast friends, or anything approaching that. This is a purely professional endeavor. I still don’t like you.”

I groaned as Charles laughed and shrugged, “Fair enough, dude!”

Seeming to accept his response, Alexander pressed his palm into the offered fingertip and shook once, twice, and let go, immediately adjusting his collar and smoothing his shirt as if to occupy the hand with anything other than the human before him.

With that, Charles stood and offered me a hug, which I accepted, warmly. He turned back over his shoulder to regard the little man, “You keep an eye on her, Alexander. Don’t let her do anything too stupid.”

“It is a valiant battle every moment of every day.” That crooked little smile livened up his eyes as he lifted his chin in defiance up at me.

“I hate you both!” I groaned.

“Good!” They both chimed in unison. After we stopped chuckling, or, in Alexander’s case pretending to be above it all, Charles continued with one last farewell, “Look, it was an absolute wild ride meeting you, Alexander. Thanks for the nice new scar, blood stained clothes and possible nerve damage.” He flexed the hand Alexander had smacked with the cane.

“Thank you for the harrowing reminder of the sociopolitical limitations of my own infuriating reality, the spike in my blood pressure and for ruining the productivity of my entire afternoon.”

Charles flashed a salute, winking, “Happy to be of service.”

“Invade my space like that again and I’ll carve you with a fresh design to make your face symmetrical.”

“Ouch! Touché…” Charles seemed to take it all in stride, a winning smile never fading as he started to head out.

After pulling on his boots and dawning his coat, he shut the door to the icy outside world behind him and we were alone again.

The moment the door latched into place, I watched as a little body slumped with exhaustion. His shoulders drooped and he favored his good leg far more. He’d been putting on a show that whole time to stay strong.

“Alexander?” I whispered, deeply aware of how touchy a subject this was for him. Slowly drawing my cupped hands on either side of him, I continued “I know you don’t normally like to ask for or receive help, but will you let me–”

Instead of answering me in words, he simply shuffled over to my right hand and halfway leaned, halfway collapsed into the bed of my palm. He avoided my eyes, but I understood what he was asking for. Come here. You don’t have to be strong all alone.

Tucking my thumb underneath his left arm, I draped my digit over his chest to help keep him from slipping while my left hand came up to meet the other and support his right side. Slowly, gently, I lifted him off the table and gathered him in my hands. He felt like he was melting into the skin of my palms.

His head leaned against my right pointer finger. I did my best to move slowly and deliberately, trying not to rock him about too much. When I stood up, I met his gaze only to find those icy irises sparkling with a smile. He shook his head, without mustering the energy to lift it away from where it rested, he arched an eyebrow at me, “You have terrible taste in friends.”

I bit my lip, holding back a smile of my own, “Nuh uh! No I don’t…”

He flashed his signature deadpan look, practically rolling his eyes back in their sockets.

“I don’t! Know why? Because I have you…” Did I feel the little pitter patter of his heart spike beneath the pad of my thumb? “You were beyond amazing. Not that you don’t already know that. I’m sorry about the way he reacted. But you, little nightmare, should hold your head up with pride.”

“I know I should! I always should! I’m me!”

“You gonna let me finish complimenting you or not?”

“You may proceed.”

“You just won your first case today. Before a licensed attorney, you successfully argued your case and won with flying colors. You completely turned him around using your power of persuasion. That’s something to be pretty goddamn proud of.”

I felt the smallest pressure on the side of my thumb as his hand squeezed tight. He cracked a smile, flashing his eyes up to mine before tearing them away again.

“Now, I’m more than happy to keep singing your praises all night long but my guess is you need to rest a bit first, right?”

“You’ll receive no pushback from me.”

“Wow! First time for everything!” I padded my way down the hall to the bedroom, watching for the impact of my footfalls as I went. “You sure you’re okay, after everything that happened?”

“Absolutely stellar. I drew blood, after all.” His eyes were more than halfway lidded at this point.

I crossed my bedroom, tracking over the same corridor of carpet where Alexander had attempted to drive an eye as big as his torso from its socket. Ridiculous, brave little man.

His arms were still loosely draped over my thumb as I stopped before my bedside table, on top of which, a tiny bed, about the size of my flattened palm, was made up with military precision. I lowered my hand and began unfurling my fingers to set him down to rest. “Alright, let’s try to tone down the bloodlust for at least an hour and get some shut eye, hm?” His eyes were already closed when he nodded ‘yes’, his hair sticking up from rubbing against my finger.

Yet, when I released him from my grip, his arms didn’t budge. He was still hugging my thumb close to his chest. I wriggled the base of my thumb a bit, letting him know he could let go now. He only squeezed tighter to keep from being shaken off.

Was this some sort of joke? It was so unlike him to want to be held…

I was about to ask him what he was doing when a blue iris suddenly sparkled into view as he opened one eye, “Oh, don’t let this go to your head. I’m just cold. That’s all.” He shut his eyes matter-of-factly as though that settled it.

I couldn’t help the huge grin that brightened my face, “Is that all? Just using me for warmth, huh? No other reason you wanna fall asleep in my hand?”

He let out a little frustrated sigh and pressed his forehead into the pad of my thumb, “You humans are so obtuse.” His brow furrowed and he wrinkled his nose in agitation, “I told you I was exhausted, now, please, let me get a moment’s peace before another one of the bumbling idiots you call friends comes crashing in through a window.”

I couldn't help but tease him, just a little, “Well if you’re just cold, I can always give you a warmer blanket. I know that’d be far better than enduring the utter torture of being held. Wouldn’t it?”

He paused. Just for a tiny fraction of a second, but I knew I’d flustered him, and that was enough to make me smile as he finally opened his eyes to glare up at me, “With the amount of time we’ve already wasted debating this subject, I could’ve been well on my way to unconsciousness by now. Stop arguing with me and lie down and let me sleep! Don’t make me regret allowing you to do this…”

Yes, my little liege! I did as I was told and curled up on the surface of the bed, careful not to jostle the small life in my hand as I lowered him down to the pillow. As soon as I laid still, he huffed a little sigh of relief and wriggled until he was comfortable, settling for curving his spine against the bowl of my palm, and using the pad of my ring finger for a pillow. In true Alexander fashion, he kept his arms crossed tightly over his chest, his brow creased and his lips tight around a set jaw. I didn’t think he knew how to relax even if he tried.

With a softness I knew he was entirely unaccustomed to in his past, I brushed the tip of my thumb over his chest, just as I had done when he’d asked for comfort at the kitchen table. I watched as he melted around me. Well, melted by Alexander standards. His brow still furrowed, his body rigid and his eyes remained closed but he didn’t flinch and instead loosened his arms and, very lightly, embraced the circumference of my thumb, about as wide as his whole chest. I leaned in, voice barely above a whisper, “Since when did you become such a cuddle bug?”

His face flushed with color as his eyes snapped open. He shoved my thumb away immediately, and stammered, “What? I’m, I’m not a–!” As he protested, he started to squirm beneath my hand, doing his level best to turn his back on me.

“It’s okay to want to be held, sometimes, Alexander. It doesn’t negate any of the things you said today. You can be strong and want to be loved on too…”

He snarled and pushed at my fingers, trying to free himself of any proximity to me now, little eyes still half-lidded and glassy, “I don’t need anything of the sort!”

I provided light resistance with my fingers, even hooking him around the waist and pulling him across the surface of the pillow by an inch or two. He growled, all disheveled and discontented, “Put me back on the bedside table. I can’t endure you any longer!”

I sighed theatrically, “Well, okay… but are you sure that’s what you really want?”

“You dense creature! Did I stutter?”

“Okay, okay! Jeez! Come here…” It’s not what I wanted, of course, but I had faith the little nightmare would come around. Wouldn’t he? Or had I just blown my chance to hold him and show him the affection I was itching to give him every second of every day? I felt my shoulders droop as I pinched him between finger and thumb and supported his legs with my opposite fingers. I was now sitting up in bed, the little man before me, his desired destination to my left.

I held him at eye level, seeking the truth behind that prickly exterior of his, “Do you want me to leave you alone, Alexander? I’ll do what you ask me, I promise.” I truly meant that. He was left a heaving mess, dangling in the air, hands gripping my thumb as he stared at me though his brows. Poor thing, I hadn’t meant to get him this dysregulated.

He glared at me for what felt like forever. I wished so badly he could just ask for the love and affection he so clearly craved but was far too embarrassed to acknowledge. I bit my lip, resigned to the fact that he was inevitably going to demand to be set down and left the hell alone. After all, what choice did he have? In his black and white thinking, to desire comfort from a human meant all his talk about resistance was meaningless. I sighed, wishing I could somehow impart to him I truly meant no harm, but instead began to lower him down to the bedside table.

“FINE!” His little voice cut through the air like a razor’s edge. I blinked, stopped all movement and returned to the scene before me. I held aloft a tiny man, his body weighing almost nothing at all. My thumb pressed against his chest while my pointer finger supported his back. He had his arms crossed somewhat awkwardly over the knuckle of my thumb, as his messy bangs hung haphazardly over his expressive little eyes, “I see what you’re doing. I see what game’s afoot!”

What the hell was he talking about? My brow furrowed. I’d been stringing him along up until this point, but now he was pulling me by the nose instead.

“You siren! You manipulative wretch! Your reverse psychology wouldn’t normally work on me, but you’ve caught me in a momentary state of vulnerability… Your charms are… somehow, against my will, taking their hold…”

Ohhhhh. Yet another little game because god forbid we ever be direct. Jesus Christ what a drama king.

I’d play along, then, if that’s what he needed to feel safe asking to be held, “Ahh! Yes! My spells are working! You could only resist for so long… And now, I’ll seal your fate once and for all!” Swiftly and without pausing for breath, I propped him up before me. I leaned in ever closer, and felt his body start to stiffen and squirm. As soon as a breathy “Natalie!” escaped him, I kissed his blonde rat’s nest of hair, my lips also covering the side of his face and neck.

When I pulled back enough to see his little face, I was met with wide, bright blue eyes that stared somewhat into the middle distance, as a tiny chest heaved up and down and a little mouth stayed open and slack jawed. Just like the last time I’d dared to kiss him, all his systems seemed to go into overload. I brushed my thumb over his hair, and whispered, “How’s that for charms, huh?” He was a brighter shade of red than any tomato I’d ever seen. He didn’t say a word, just blinking, still in shock, it seemed. Poor thing. I decided I wouldn’t put him through anything else, “Get some rest, Alexander. You blew me away today. Thank you for reminding us of how brilliant you are. Go to sleep now. You’ve had a long day…” With that, I lowered him back down to the pillow, with my hand cupped behind him.

As I watched him drift off to sleep, I could only imagine what was racing through that brilliant little mind. I wanted to watch him as long as I could, but eventually the utter exhaustion of the day caught up with me too, and despite my best efforts, I fell asleep, holding the little nightmare I adored so much.

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@lucentbliss @raccoontoaster @tolsizedlove @not-a-space-alien @thegodmother007

@honey-olive @bittykimmy13 @aceouttatime @imvenusasaboy @liminaldaze

@windshield-patent @joxter-coded @rosella35 @narrans @rubeau-art

@littlescaryinternetguy @jae-from-discord @kitn-underfoot @secretly-small @writing-forever

@iinogongju @itsgothgirlthyme @make-me-giant @reborrowing @whatthisfemsheplikes

@soapysoap69 @tinystrawberryshifter @thetinylittlespider @bigboicol-theflamingcol @certainwizardlady

#Nerd Alert #Oh Alexander. ever the drama king #g/t #giant/tiny #g/t community #g/t writing #g/t related #gt community #giant tiny #g/t fluff

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