Roomies by ItWasMe

 As she closed her apartment door behind her, Callie leaned her back against it.

Her navy blue backpack dropped with a heavy thud to the side, and she slowly slid down to the shabby linoleum-tiled floor. The black fabric of her baggy sweatpants cushioned the impact as her butt met the cold hard floor. Her face was hidden behind trembling fingers, their well-manicured tips protruding through disheveled honey-blonde bangs as the base of her palms rested on the tip of her petite chin.

Mondays were always the worst for Callie, at least they had been since the start of the spring semester. Wednesdays and Fridays weren’t really any different from the start of the week, but that extra day off that the weekends provided gave her a false sense of relief, one that was shattered every Sunday evening and replaced by the dread of knowing what she would have to face again the following afternoon.

And now here she was again, trying to hide her shame from the world while sitting just barely inside her dingy old apartment.

These are supposed to be the best years of your life, Callie, she thought to herself. How could you let them turn into this?

Callie gave a long, deliberate exhale as she dropped her hands and tilted her head back, dark golden tresses leaking from underneath the hood of her light gray sweatshirt as they pooled atop her shoulders. She blinked tears from her eyes as her gaze fell upon the worn gray countertop of her kitchen.

And then she froze.

Dangling from the top of the counter to the floor was a piece of thread, attached at its highest point to a small makeshift hook made from a paperclip lodged into the crevice of a slightly ajar drawer. But it was less the presence of the odd combination hanging from her counter and more the fact that she didn’t even own a paperclip, let alone take the time to tie one to thread and hook it there, that bothered her so much.

Someone was fucking with her.

For the past week, Callie had noticed small things that were out of place in her apartment. Food crumbs randomly spread along the counter one day and holes ripped into a bag of bread on that same counter the next. She also thought she noticed pens and other small items moved about on the desk in her room and the living room coffee table, but it was hard to tell with such negligible things.

But this, this was anything but negligible. Up until that point, she was convinced that she had a rat problem or something like that. Rats don’t tie thread and paperclips together, though. Someone had been in her apartment.

Or maybe they were still there.

As soon as the thought occurred to Callie, she was on her feet and rushing into the kitchen. Hands shaking, she opened a nearby drawer and pulled out a large butcher knife, part of a set in a still unused apartment-warming gift from her parents.

“Alright fucker!” she yelled, holding the knife in front of her, the blade guiding her as she slowly started to move about the apartment with cautiously wandering eyes. “If you’re still in here, come out now and you can leave. Otherwise, you’re gettin’ stabbed!”

For the next twenty minutes, Callie intensely searched her home. Despite the bravado with which she spoke, she really hoped no one would show themselves. After all, given her soft, friendly nature, she wasn’t sure if she was capable of actually following through on her threat.

After thoroughly investigating the apartment, she was satisfied that whatever creeper was fucking with her had long since left. Noting the time, she quickly changed her clothes and left for work, realizing that she had just enough time to avoid being late for her shift.

She tried to put the incident out of her mind but made sure to lock the door after leaving the apartment.

********

Callie returned to her apartment four-and-a-half hours later, finally feeling a bit better about the whole ordeal. In fact, she was starting to wonder if she had overreacted just a little bit when she noticed, once again, that something was different in the kitchen.

There, waiting for her on the card table that served as her dining room table, Callie spied a roughly ripped sliver of notebook paper, likely torn from a much larger page.

She picked up the clearly impromptu note, holding it before her eyes with either side being secured between her respective thumbs and forefingers. Squinting, she was just able to make out the message, clearly scribbled in messy haste and uncommonly small:

Sorry for scare. Not intent.

Callie took in the lettering, about half the size of a finger nail’s-width, unsure what to make of it. She had so many questions: Who had left the note there? By scare, did they mean the paperclip and thread? What even was their intent, then?

But before she could consider the answers to those questions, a quiet, almost inaudible noise resembling a light wrapping on metal directed her attention to the kitchen counter that lay beyond the other side of the table.

Callie’s attention was immediately drawn to the microwave sitting near the end of the counter, or rather, who was standing near its back end. Greatly dwarfed by the appliance, not even measuring a quarter of its height, was a man dressed in the tattered ensemble of a t-shirt, shorts, and sneakers, their long-faded colors hard to discern from a distance through the layer of grime and dirt covering them.

The two locked eyes, hers filled with surprise and wonder and his with hesitation and worry. This stalemate wouldn’t last, however, as Callie’s instincts took over.

Without thinking, she swiftly moved around the table, making a beeline for the little guest occupying her countertop. While the man was slightly slower to break from his trance, he recovered quickly, scampering behind the microwave before she could reach him.

Callie’s hip crashed into the countertop clumsily as she reached her destination. She shifted the microwave to the side just in time to see the shoes of the man disappear through the semi-circular hole in the wall that she was using the appliance to hide.

With him gone, rational thought soon returned to her, and she instantly regretted her rash actions.

“Wait!” she cried.

But Callie’s plea came too late, and the miniature man was already well within the walls of her apartment. She apologized profusely as she addressed the wall, upset with herself for scaring him off.

Rather than dwell on her mistake, however, she instead made her way to her room, where she grabbed her laptop and laid on her bed, suddenly eager to do a bit of research for once.

********

As it turned out, the internet had startlingly little information about tiny people, at least ones that weren’t considered fictional. Still, Callie absorbed anything on the subject that she could find, hoping that some of it might be relevant to understanding the tiny tenant wandering within her walls.

A night’s worth of researching left her rather groggy after waking up from two hours of sleep late into the morning. Having slept through her alarm, she rushed to dress herself in shorts and a fashionable blouse, attire much more appropriate for the Southwestern climate of the area.

Before running off to her first class of the day, for which she would surely be late, Callie grabbed a granola bar from one of her kitchen cabinets. As she passed by the hole in the kitchen wall, she stopped. After a few seconds of thought, she broke a corner off of the bar and left it directly in front of the hole before making her way to class.

********

After getting through her back-to-back Tuesday classes and returning home, Callie was elated to discover that the piece of granola she had left in front of the hole was gone. She approached the small opening, leaning over and resting her lower abdomen and elbows on the countertop, her chin cupped in her open palms.

"Hi, I'm Callie," she said. "I just wanted to apologize again for yesterday. It was pretty shitty of me, and I'm not even sure why I did that."

From there, the social butterfly within Callie took over. She cheerily recapped her day to the hole in the wall. Occasionally, she would ask a question to the man she hoped was listening, but no response ever came. Still, she thought it would be rude to drone on about herself without at least giving him a chance to join in the conversation.

Eventually, she made herself some ramen for dinner, leaving a few noodles on a plate near the hole. After finishing her meal, she went about her usual night-off routine of studying and relaxing, taking a minute to speak to her hidden guest from time to time.

And Callie continued incorporating him into her day the next morning. She would speak to him and leave him food between her spread-out Wednesday class schedule. But the diminutive dude hanging out in her walls still didn't seem to be comfortable enough to reveal himself.

Thinking about the poor guy even helped distract her as she endured yet another Wednesday afternoon. Even though it still filled her with a sense of both disgust and self-loathing, she managed to perk herself up afterward at the thought of maybe getting the chance to make a better impression.

Of course, the pint-sized person was nowhere to be found when she returned home, although he had once again accepted her food offering. Undeterred, Callie swore to herself that she would find a way to break the ice with him.

While getting ready for her second work day of the week, an idea struck her. She grabbed a post-it note and broke off as tiny a piece of graphite as she could from one of her mechanical pencils, setting the two writing tools in front of the hole and next to a plate with a slice of cheap reheated pizza.

"Well, I'm off to work," Callie announced before walking out the door. "The place is yours for, like, the next four hours. No parties!"

She giggled at her little joke as she left, preparing herself for her next shift in retail hell.

********

Her shift having left her exhausted, Callie lumbered through the entrance to her apartment. Between classes and work, she was ready to call it an early night. However, that fatigue melted away as she moved into the kitchen.

It didn’t take her long to remember that she had left the little man tools with which to communicate with her indirectly. Checking the countertop, she quickly realized that he had made use of them.

The lettering was slightly larger and much more crisp this time around, and it appeared as though his diction had expanded upon being told just how much time he had to compose this new letter.

Callie,

Thanks for the food and conversation. It means a lot, and I really appreciate it.

Your tiny neighbor,

Duncan

P.S. No parties, but I did have a “get together” with Tom Thumb, Thumbelina, Jiminy Cricket, and Daniel Radcliffe. I hope that’s okay?

Callie felt her lips curl almost autonomously into a genuine smile.

“Anytime!” she beamed, aiming her excitement at the hole in her kitchen wall. “And let me know the next time you have one of these ‘get togethers.’ I’d hate to accidentally step on Harry!”

********

“Duncan?” Callie called out. “Do you think you might wanna come out and talk tonight?”

She stepped toward the kitchen table, the hem of her short denim skirt settling mid-thigh on her. She had paired the skirt with a stylish white off-shoulder ruffle-trim blouse with short sleeves.

Although it was normal for Callie to up her fashion game on Thursdays, as she would hit the bars in an effort to forget about having to deal with her least favorite class one final time for the week the following day, this time was different. This time, she wanted to make a good impression on—or at least appear as non-threatening as possible to—one particular person.

After Duncan reached out to her the previous night, she decided that now was the time to try and have a real conversation with him. She had once again added him to her daily routine from the morning to evening time, and now she would try to coax him to come out into the open.

The first step was to reassure him that there wouldn’t be a repeat of the last time the two had met face-to-face.

“Sorry again for lunging at you the other day,” Callie said. “It’s just that I saw you and I, uh, I wasn’t ready for it, I guess? Like, my first instinct was to grab you to see if you were real.”

A quick glance toward the hole in the wall showed no signs of movement. But she didn’t expect this to be easy.

“But I’m ready now,” Callie said. “If you decide to come out, there’ll be no grabbing this time. I’ll keep my hands to myself. Promise.”

She still didn’t notice any activity coming from the hole. She gave a slight sigh, but remained optimistic.

“But yeah, it’d be cool if we could talk,” Callie said.

She was about to continue but was startled by a small noise, sounding oddly like a very faint clearing of someone’s throat, coming from below her on the table. Looking down, she saw the tiny guy emerge from behind her saltshaker.

He had scruffy brown hair and a scraggly beard of the same color. Callie could now see that, through the dirt that covered him, his shirt and shorts, ripped and torn all over, were originally white and black, respectively.

He craned his neck upward before Callie heard his voice for the first time.

“I was kind of thinking the same thing,” he said.

********

From the moment he stepped out from behind the saltshaker, Duncan was second-guessing his decision.

After all, it wasn’t as though this was his first encounter with giants. Well, technically everything and everyone else was normal-sized and he was tiny, but such distinctions didn’t really matter to him. Perspective is king, and from where he was standing, he was just a regular guy stuck in a giant world.

“Wow,” Callie’s powerfully deep yet distinctly feminine and slightly pitchy voice echoed all around him.

Her right hand came for Duncan as though it had a mind of its own, her awed gaze never breaking from his small form, almost staring right through him. As her long, delicate fingers reached the midpoint between their massive mistress and tiny target, he took a couple cautious steps backward, stopping only when his back met his former hiding place.

He tried to say something, anything really, but his voice caught in his throat. No protests came out of his mouth, nor did any begging, pleading, or defiant cursing. Instead, he was frozen in fear as he leaned against the saltshaker, questioning why he ever thought this was a good idea.

Upon seeing this reaction, however, Callie’s eyes widened with recognition, and her hand stopped abruptly.

“Shit, sorry!” she said, pulling it back swiftly. “Caught me by surprise again. For real though, I’m not gonna get grabby. See?”

The giantess laid her hands at the edge of the table. Her lengthy digits splayed slightly as she gently pushed off against the surface. The legs of her chair screeched loudly against laminate tile flooring as they retreated, coming to rest once its occupant’s towering torso was slightly less than a foot away from the table.

Callie’s hands laid atop one another, right over left, on the tabletop directly in front of her. Then, her upper body folded, her breasts leading the way like perky teardrops as they fell from view under the table’s edge. Her movements reminded Duncan of an old drawbridge he used to see everyday near one of his childhood homes.

As her chin came to rest atop the knuckles of her right hand, the titaness gave the tiny man her most reassuring smile.

“There,” Callie said. “And I should be able to hear you better like this, too. You came off kinda quiet when I was sitting up.”

For a moment, the two of them just stared at one another in uncertain silence. Callie’s eyes, nebulous waves of green and reddish-brown crashing against each other in perfect symmetry on either side, zeroed in on him with a gentle intensity as she studied him intently from her closer perspective.

Duncan momentarily lost himself in their radiance as they reflected the florescent lighting of the uncovered bulb swinging softly high above the table with an elegant brilliance. Mercifully, Callie broke the stalemate first, ending the trance she had unknowingly placed him in.

“So,” she began, “are you, like, a borrower or something?”

Duncan’s face scrunched in confusion.

“No?” he answered. “The fuck’s a borrower?”

Duncan found his attention drawn to just below Callie's cute, slightly upturned nose, where her lusciously plump lips, lightly glazed in pink gloss and each noticeably thicker than one of his legs, were curved in a contemplative frown.

“They’re little people that live in walls and steal food and stuff from us big people,” she said, before mumbling, “at least that’s what Wikipedia says.”

Duncan nodded along with Callie’s words.

“Oh,” he said. “Shit, I guess I am one then. I didn’t realize they had a word for that. Wait, does that mean there are other people stuck like this, too?”

Callie shrugged her shoulders, the exposed pale skin of their tops visible to Duncan through waterfalls of honey tresses ending in enticing pools of dark gold on either side of her chin.

“I don’t think so,” she said. “Google didn’t show anything about real little people, and I never really watched the movies or read the books about borrowers when I was a kid, so I don’t even know if you guys are supposed to travel in packs or whatever.”

It took a few seconds for the meaning behind Callie’s words to sink in for Duncan.

“Books? Movies?!” he asked. “Did you just ask if I was a fictional character?!”

Callie rushed to defend herself against the little man’s incredulity.

“At least I didn’t admit to being one,” she muttered. “Besides, what was I supposed to think? It’s not like tiny little people are a thing. Usually. So when one starts climbing out of my walls, I’ve gotta think outside the box, ya know?”

Before Duncan could respond, Callie spoke once again.

“Hold up,” she said slowly. “You said ‘stuck like this.’ Does that mean you haven’t always been so … short?”

This time, Duncan was quick to answer.

“I was normal-sized until about six months ago,” he explained. “I shrank on my girlfriend’s doorstep, right in front of her eyes. Or ex-girlfriend, I should say.”

Callie cringed slightly at the word ex-girlfriend.

“You guys broke up?” she asked.

Duncan chuckled derisively in response.

“Not officially, I guess,” he said with a hint of bitterness. “But nothing says ‘it’s over’ quite like having to pick a pad lock with a piece of hamster bedding to escape the cage they put you in.”

Callie’s eyes went wide. She opened her mouth to speak, but no words came out at first. After a moment’s hesitation, she finally spoke up.

“So you can pick locks?” she asked awkwardly. “Where’d you learn to do that?”

For the first time since revealing himself, Duncan exchanged his nervous, guarded expression for a wry grin.

“I had a pretty fun childhood,” he replied.

Callie giggled at his answer.

“I’ll bet you did,” she said, pausing for a minute after her laughter subsided. “But seriously, she put you in a damn cage?”

Duncan’s smile quickly vanished.

“Yeah,” he answered solemnly. “You know, my first thought after shrinking, after I got over the panic attack and my head cleared a little, was ‘Thank God Kristie’s here.’ We had been going out for a little over a year when it happened, and she was the only person I really trusted. I felt lucky. I felt safe.”

Duncan swallowed hard, fighting to hold back the tears building up behind his eyes.

“And then she … she ...”

Duncan went quiet, staring blankly down at the tabletop in front of him as his back slid down the length of the salt shaker.

“Is it … is it okay is if I don’t talk about her?” he finally asked, his voice barely a whisper.

The question earned a quizzical frown from Callie.

“Of course,” she said. “You don’t have to tell me anything if you don’t want to. You know that, right?”

Without looking up, Duncan only gave a timid nod in response.

“Good,” she said hesitantly. “Like, I really don’t want you to feel forced to talk to me.”

Duncan didn’t acknowledge Callie that time, and the giant girl wasn’t entirely sure that he heard her. He just kept staring at the ground, obviously lost in thought.

Slowly, and deliberately this time, the giantess slipped her right hand out from under her chin and moved toward Duncan. He didn’t seem to notice, completely dropping his guard for the first time in the conversation. Her hand crept cautiously to the tiny man’s right side. With the tip of her index finger, which was large enough to swallow his shoulder, she rubbed his right arm up and down its length.

Duncan’s head shot up, his body jumping slightly at Callie’s touch. His neck swiveled as his eyes traced from her finger to her face, which wore a kind expression.

“I know I said I’d keep my hands to myself, but you looked like you needed that,” she said. “I can stop if you want.”

Duncan turned his attention back to the finger offering him comfort. He studied it intently, and Callie could almost see the internal debate taking place inside his head.

“No, it’s fine,” he said slowly, not sounding entirely sure. “Th-thanks.”

Duncan tilted his head toward the ceiling, staring up at the kitchen’s florescent lighting as he took a deep breath. He sat there for a minute, just letting Callie comfort him. When he turned his attention back to her, he gave her a slight smile and a silent nod, which she took as a sign to return her hand to its rightful place beneath her chin.

“So anyway,” Duncan moved ahead with his story, “after I … got out of that situation, I didn’t really know where to go. Kristie was the only person I ever really trusted, and that … that didn’t work out so well for me. So without anywhere or anyone in mind, I just picked a direction and started walking.”

The minuscule male began to regale the colossal Callie with the tale of his long journey, building momentum with his storytelling as he his memories moved further past the … unpleasantness of his experiences with Kristie.

“So you would think sticking to the grass instead of the sidewalk would be a good way to avoid giant feet coming down on you, right?” he said. “Well, let me tell you a little something about phones and their effect on how much people pay attention to where they step ...”

********

“Whoa, whoa whoa. Hold up. You fought a squirrel?!” Callie asked, trying to keep from laughing but failing miserably. “Like, a super cute and cuddly squirrel? Over a chunk of hot dog?!”

A scowl crossed Duncan’s face.

“Yeah, well they’re a lot less cute when they’re three times your size and hungry,” he said. “That asshole looked more like a grizzly bear on top of another grizzly bear to me. And that hot dog was the closest thing to real, human food I’d seen in a week!”

Callie stopped laughing, looking lost in thought at Duncan’s words.

“Wow,” she said in an almost faraway tone. “I didn’t really think of it like that, but yeah, that must have actually been pretty scary for you. So what did you do?”

Duncan paused as he deliberated in his head the least embarrassing way to tell the story.

“He ended up jumping on top of me,” he said, holding his right side. “He dug those God damned monster claws into my side. I thought he was going to tear out my kidneys or something else important.”

Callie anxiously leaned just a little bit closer to her little guest, her sumptuous lips mere feet away from him on his scale.

“Yeah?” she said with a breathless eagerness. “And then?”

Duncan lowered his head, partially from embarrassment and partially in preparation for the reaction that was surely coming.

“I kicked it in the balls, and it ran away,” he said sullenly.

For a single solitary moment, silence fell throughout the kitchen. That silence was quickly filled with full-throated feminine laughter. Unable to control herself, Callie’s warm cherry-scented breath forcefully blew over the table, gently ruffling Duncan’s short brown hair and the ripped sleeves of his tattered shirt.

Still, he had to admit, it was actually pretty pleasant, if not a bit sticky, reminding him of a balmy summer breeze.

“I-I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” she gradually recovered after a solid 30 seconds of laughing. “It’s just, that’s just too funny! I know that had to be rough for you, but, come on! Who else can say they kicked a squirrel in the balls? Like, do they even have testicles?!”

Despite the warm redness still present on his cheeks, Duncan looked back up at Callie.

“They only come out in the winter, actually,” he said. “I never thought I’d be happy to be tiny in December.”

Reliving the whole ordeal in his mind, Duncan felt a swell of anger rise up from within.

“But if I ever get my size back, the first thing I’m going to do is chop that piece of shit Bigsby’s tree down,” he said. “Let’s see how tough that smug bushy-tailed fucker is when he’s homeless!”

Duncan’s outburst seemed to take Callie by surprise. She stared at him blankly for a moment.

Then the laughter came once again.

“Bigsby?!” she questioned with a renewed giggle. “Did you for real name the squirrel Bigsby? Why not Steven? Or Stuart? Or Sergio?”

Lowering his head, Duncan gave his answer nonchalantly.

“It was the dumbest name I could think of,” he said.

Callie’s laughter gradually died down, but an amused look remained on her face.

“So you gave him a bad name just because you hate him?” she asked. “Bitter much?”

Duncan looked up at Callie with a faux dark expression.

“My vengeance knows no bounds,” he joked. “I wouldn’t fuck with me if I were you.”

A self-satisfied smirk touched Callie’s lips as her eyes rolled at her small house guest's advice.

“Noted,” she said, matching the tiny man’s laugh.

With that, Duncan took the opportunity to steer his story back on track.

“Anyway, Natasha found me not too long after that,” he said. “She was actually kind of nice, at first.”

Callie’s eyes narrowed as she took in what Duncan had so casually put out there.

“Hold up, someone else found you too?” she asked. “Where’s this Natasha now?”

Duncan shrugged his shoulders.

“Oh, she’s still around, I’m sure,” he said. “She found me when I was wandering around in the grass, probably too close to the sidewalk. And like I said, things went pretty well at first. She nursed me back to health and everything.”

Callie looked at him questioningly.

“Back to health?” she asked. “What was wrong with you?”

Lifting his shirt up, Duncan revealed the scarred remnants of claw marks running diagonally down the right side of his torso.

“Squirrels carry all kinds of bacteria in those claws,” he explained.

Callie grimaced as she took in the old wound but chose to not interrupt Duncan’s story again.

“So anyway, I was feeling all kinds of shitty,” he said. “And Natasha just so happened to hear me mumbling some incoherent shit because of my fever as she was walking by. Turns out we were right in front of her house. So she took me inside and helped get my fever down.”

Duncan stopped for a minute, remembering how nice that first day had been. He found himself wondering just what had happened to make it all go south.

“Things changed after I recovered,” he said, maintaining a casual tone. “After that, she started treating me less like a person and more like a slave. She liked to jab at me with her toes, spit on me, blow her cancer stick smoke in my face, and hold me down with a finger or her foot. Every night, she would tie my wrists and ankles together with dental floss and toss me in her panty drawer.”

Duncan looked up and was shocked to see horror written all over Callie’s face. The poor giantess looked almost on the verge of tears. He stopped listing the horrors he faced while under Natasha’s “care,” unsure how to process Callie’s reaction.

After all, having someone show legitimate concern for him was foreign territory for the maladjusted mini.

“After about a week, she had me picking up her toenail clippings for her,” he said, ultimately deciding to gloss over several of the other details of his time with Natasha. “I ended up stashing one of the sharper ones in my shorts, and I used it to cut through the floss while she was sleeping. She left the drawer just a tiny bit open, so I was able to climb out and escape. It may be that vindictive side you mentioned coming out, but I hope she was kind of pissed.”

Once again, Duncan got quiet. He studied Callie, who seemed to calm down with the happy resolution to his Natasha story. Still, she kept quiet, which felt odd to him, as he’d gotten used to her constant interruptions.

“Well anyway,” he resumed his story, “after … all that, I just kept wandering in this general direction. I wasn’t really sure where I was going until I got here, but when I saw the main door of the apartment building open, I went ahead and let myself in. The guy who used to live in the apartment next to yours was moving out and had his door propped open, so I snuck in to scavenge for food, found a hole in the wall, and that pretty much takes us to now.”

Callie’s eyes went wide.

“But that guy moved out more than a month ago!” she said. “I only saw signs that you were hangin' out here, like, a week ago. Are you saying you’ve been in the walls this whole time?”

Duncan nodded.

“I’ve been spending most of my time scouting,” he said. “The insides of these walls connect to a lot of the other apartments in the building, so I wanted to make sure the person I reached out to wasn’t another psycho. Once I picked you, I tried to leave little signs that I was around. I wanted to see your reaction before I came out, or at least that’s what I told myself. Honestly, it was really just an excuse to put it off. I’ve been sweating this for a while now.”

Callie picked her head up from her resting hands, tilting her head slightly to the side.

“You picked me?” she asked. “And you’re saying that all that stuff I noticed over the past week, you’ve been doing that on purpose?”

Grinning, Duncan gave Callie a thumbs up.

“That’s exactly what I’m saying,” he said. “Of course, being like this for so long, I somehow overlooked the fact that there’s no way anyone would have known that someone my size even exists, let alone is fucking with them.”

Callie lowered her head back atop her knuckles.

“Well, despite that, I’m still flattered,” she said. “But what was so special about me? Or was everyone else around here just super creepy?”

The giant woman’s last question got a chuckle out of Duncan. After taking a minute to recollect himself, he answered the more relevant of her questions.

“You’re almost too nice, you’ve got a good head on your shoulders, and you’re a little desperate,” he answered matter-of-factly. “Desperate about what, I don’t know, but I kind of get the feeling that you can relate to someone like me, even if my desperate isn’t quite the same as yours.”

Callie nodded thoughtfully as Duncan explained his rationale for revealing himself to her. She kept quiet at first, with Duncan waiting patiently for her to process the information.

“So now that we’ve sorted all that out, I’m guessin’ that you want me to get you some help, right?” she asked. “So you can get back to normal?”

Duncan frowned at the suggestion.

“Not at all, actually,” he said. “I mean, where would I even go? I doubt any hospital has seen something like this before, and seeing as how no one has ever heard of people shrinking before, this is either something new to science or something scientists are trying to keep under wraps. Either way, I don’t like what that would mean for me if I went to a lab for help.”

Callie stared at him incredulously.

“Then why do all this?” she asked. “Why do you need me at all?’

Doing his best to give a casual shrug, Duncan hoped that Callie’s massive eyes wouldn’t catch the lump in his throat as he swallowed nervously.

“I thought it might be nice to have a place to go if things get … difficult with some of the other tenants in the building,” he said. “It might also be nice to have a place to scavenge where I don’t have to worry about being mistaken for a mouse or bug.”

But Duncan couldn’t bring himself to admit the real reason for seeking someone out. He wasn’t sure if it was out of pride or fear that he kept to himself that all he really needed from Callie was another person to talk to once in a while, if only to remind him that he’s still human.

“Anyway, if that works for you, I wouldn’t be in your hair too much,” he said. “I’m not trying to burden you with my problems or anything.”

Callie regarded Duncan with a look on her face that he wasn’t sure how to read, perhaps a mixture of curiosity, disbelief, and deep thought.

“That’s totally fine,” she said flatly. “Happy to help.”

Unsure of what was going through his giant hostess’ mind, Duncan decided to take the opportunity to excuse himself.

“Okay, well, good talk then, I guess,” he said. “And speaking of not being in your hair too much, I’m sure you’ve got a lot going on, so I should leave you to it. Thanks for helping me out, and have a good night!”

Duncan turned his back and started walking toward the edge of the table facing the hole in the wall. While he had gotten a bit of a weird vibe from Callie at the end there, he felt like things had gone pretty well. Maybe his concerns had been for nothing. Maybe things were finally starting to ...

“Hey, hold up a sec,” Callie called out, breaking his train of thought.

Duncan stopped dead in his tracks, attempting unsuccessfully to flush a sudden sense of dread from his gut with a quiet sigh.

Here it comes, he thought.

Internally, Duncan was kicking himself for revealing so much of his resourcefulness to this girl. From what he had seen in the past week, it was clear that she was smarter than his previous two captors, despite being a bit younger. After telling her his story, she would surely take extra precautions if she decided to capture him as well.

For a brief moment, he thought about making a break for it, irrational though it would be to do so. He almost laughed aloud as he caught a glimpse of his hole, the closest escape route. He would never make it, not before Callie simply reached out and grabbed him before his feet even reached the table’s edge.

No, whatever came next, Duncan would have to lean into it, at least for now.

“What’s up?” he asked as casually as he could, turning around slowly as he spoke.

Callie lifted her chin from her knuckles, her hands reaching for her lower back as her shoulder blades brushed against the back of her chair. Her fingers massaged her tailbone as her back arched, inadvertently thrusting her bulbous breasts forward.

“Actually,” she said hesitantly, flashing Duncan a nervous smile as she straightened her upper body, “would it be okay i-if … if I picked you up? It was getting a little uncomfortable leaning down like that, and like I said before, it can be kinda hard to hear you from up here sometimes.”

For Duncan, there was nothing okay about being picked up by a giant. As far as he could tell, being lifted in a giant fist was nothing more than a power trip for the women of his new life, a chance to show him just how pathetic he truly was now.

Still, it wasn’t as though he actually had a choice, right?

Heh, hands to herself, Duncan thought. I’m an idiot.

“Sure,” he yelled, secretly hoping that his voice didn’t reach the giantess.

But Callie’s nervous grin quickly curled into a genuine one at his answer, her top row of teeth glistening from between her slightly parted lips. As her hands returned to the table, her left settled in front of her while her right stretched toward Duncan, not even needing to fully extend to reach him.

He fought the urge to step back from the coming fingertips, also keeping his arms straight and at his sides as he cringed in anxious anticipation. He had learned early on that giants frowned upon him trying to keep his arms free in their grasp, preferring him to struggle feebly against the might of their grip.

But Callie’s pink-laced fingernails stopped just short of Duncan. Instead of encircling him eagerly, he looked on in surprise as the giant woman’s hand flipped slowly, upturning to expose her palm to him as a light rapping signaled that her knuckles had touched down on the tabletop. The thickness of her fingertips reached the middle of his shins.

At first, Duncan just stared at the waiting platform laid out before him.

Well, this is new, he thought.

Moving his eyes away from the hand in front of him, Duncan looked up to see Callie still smiling brightly as she waited patiently for him to board. His gaze locked with hers, he raised his right foot cautiously toward her middle finger. Before setting it down, however, he retracted the step.

Not entirely sure on the rules of etiquette for stepping into a woman’s palm, he removed his shoes and socks, setting them to the side. Callie shot him a quizzical look.

“There’s a lot of gunk and … other stuff in the walls,” Duncan shouted to her. “I figured you didn’t want that stuff on you.”

The giantess nodded thoughtfully.

“Appreciate it,” she said.

Duncan stepped into Callie’s hand. An involuntary shiver struck the giant woman as his tiny toes pressed upon her skin for the first time, the quiver flowing from her shoulders to her fingertips and causing the tiny man to stumble, though he maintained his balance after a brief wobbling passed through his legs.

“Sorry,” she said, cringing slightly. “I just didn’t expect you to feel like … well, like that!”

Duncan looked up to respond to the giantess, resuming his pace while speaking. His feet sank slightly into the flesh of her middle and index fingers as he gingerly walked their respective lengths, a foot traveling down each slender digit.

“And what exactly does that feel like?” he asked with a smirk, happy to seize even the smallest advantage against the embarrassed giant now holding him in the palm of her hand.

Staring down at Duncan as he reached the center of her palm, Callie attempted vainly to hide said embarrassment.

“I-I don’t know,” she answered shyly, her face turning a light shade of red. “Like, electric, I guess? It’s kinda intense. Anyway, changing the subject ...”

Slowly, Callie lifted her hand and its small passenger from the tabletop. Despite her best effort, Duncan struggled to stay on his feet. He fell on his butt as the momentum of his ascent ceased with him just below her button nose and roughly a foot away from her awed countenance.

He found himself studied by a pair of hazel eyes larger than his head. Over the edge of her palm, he could see the titaness flash a smug smirk of her own at regaining the upper hand, before her face took on a gentle yet serious look.

“I just wanted to let you know that you don’t have to do this alone anymore,” she said softly. “You were just sizing up if you could make it back to your little hole before I grabbed you, right? Well, you never had to worry about that, because I wouldn’t have tried to stop you. Actually, if you want, I can just carry you over there and save you some time. Then I can go back to leaving you food or pretending you don’t exist or whatever you want me to do.”

Callie lifted her gaze from the little man sitting in her hand as she stared vacantly at the small hole. For his part, Duncan continued to listen silently, still deciding what to make of her words as he returned to his feet.

“But I wouldn’t feel good about it,” she said. “And not just because I’d be worried. Although yeah, I’d be pretty worried about you if I knew you were around but couldn’t see you. I know you don’t need me to tell you this, but there’s a lot of trouble you can get into at your size, and I think I’d always be wondering if you were okay.”

Still looking over, rather than at, Duncan, Callie’s fingers absently began to curl inward. Before he could react, the tips of her ring and index fingers each picked a shoulder on which to settle. With the slightest bit of pressure, the fingertips began rubbing with gentle precision. Her middle finger soon joined in, massaging between his shoulder blades in slow, circular swirls.

“It’s because you’re right about me,” she said. “I do feel desperate.”

Callie looked down on the little man with a sad smile. He opened his mouth, whether to protest being fondled or contribute to the conversation he wasn’t sure, but it was all he could do to stifle a pleasurable moan from coming out instead. This didn’t go unnoticed by the giantess, who did her best to hold back a small chuckle before continuing.

“I think I’m about to fail outta school,” she said. “It’s only one class, but I’d have to go an extra semester, and I don’t have the money to do that. I mean, fuck, I don’t know if I have the money to make rent next month.”

Callie paused for a moment to take a slow, deep breath.

“Some asshole wants to screw me over and ruin my fuckin’ life, and there’s nothing I can do about it,” she said. “I’m gonna be in debt the rest of my life with nothin' to show for it. I’ll just end up another 40-something slut sales girl still working at some out-of-date boutique and hitting on guys, like, half my age.”

There was a sense of sorrow in the words of the giantess that pulled Duncan from the calming lull of his massage. Despite any reservations he might have still held about the girl, he was compelled to ease that pain in her voice.

“Uh, you’re putting a lot of pressure on yourself, don’t you think?” he asked. “Aren’t you overstressing a bit?”

Callie hesitated for a moment, carefully considering what to say next.

“That’s probably right,” she said sadly. “But that doesn’t change the fact that I’ve been stressing out about this for months now. The people that want to help me, like my parents, think I’m an idiot who did this to myself, and they can’t do anything for me anyway. And the one person who could actually help me is the one who put in this spot. I’m in this alone. No one’s coming to help me out. And as much as I hate to admit it, that’s all I really want: just someone to show up and say, ‘Here, have some help.’”

Callie’s fingers stopped their massage, flattening back out with the rest of her hand. She raised Duncan level with her eyes.

“Then I met you, and I realized that I don’t have it so bad,” she said. “I feel so guilty for thinking things were hard for me. But I also realized that I can be that person for you, someone who actually needs help. I can’t do anything about my shitty life, but I can help you. And I want to. It would mean a lot to me if you’d let me.”

Duncan wasn’t sure what to say. He didn’t doubt Callie’s sincerity, but there were a lot of factors to consider before making any sort of decision.

What exactly does she mean by help? he thought. Obviously I can’t agree to anything without ...

“Okay,” he said before he realized it.

Duncan wanted to clasp his hand over his mouth and take the word back. Did he really just say that? Apparently, there was a part of him that was ready to trust this girl, but it’s not as though he hadn’t been fooled before. He needed to be more careful this time. He had to …

Pulling himself from his thoughts, he glanced at the giant face in front of him. Joy radiated from its countenance, headlined by a grin wider than he was. The tiny man couldn’t help but smile back at the sight.

Fuck it, Duncan thought.

“Are you serious?!” Callie asked excitedly. “I didn’t think you’d actually want my help, especially with everything those bitches did to you. Like, you have no idea how happy I am right now! We can be, like, roomies!”

Roomies? Duncan thought as he chuckled lightly at Callie’s excitement. Well, I guess I could think of worse ways that this could have played out.

As the colossal girl’s mood settled, she gave Duncan a semi-serious look.

“Full disclosure, I didn’t really need to pick you up to hear you,” she said apologetically. “Like, you for real do sound kinda quiet when I’m sitting up all the way, but I can still make out what you’re sayin' just fine, even if you don’t yell. It’s just that, well, I really, really, really wanted to pick you up, but I didn’t think you’d let me if I didn’t have a good excuse. Sorry.”

Duncan felt like he should have been annoyed, but he wasn’t. In fact, just Callie saying she was worried that he wouldn’t let her pick him up went a long way toward removing whatever doubts about her that were still lingering in his mind.

“Don’t worry about it,” he said.

A sigh of relief escaped Callie’s lips.

“Awesome!” she said. “I figured if we’re gonna be roommates, it’s best to keep things honest between us, ya know?”

Callie started sniffing the air around Duncan.

“Speakin' of, not to be rude, but have you thought about maybe takin’ a bath or something?” she asked. “Not that you’ve had the chance ‘til now, but you look, and smell, like you could really use one!”

Duncan was too excited at the prospect of a bath to even feign an attempt at indigence at Callie’s critques.

“Yeah, that sounds great!” he said. “God, it’s been so long since I’ve been able to clean myself proper.”

Without warning, Callie’s other hand approached Duncan. Rather than grab him however, it also turned palm up as both hands came together. The two hands took on a bowl formation as Duncan slipped down to the bottom, though he managed to keep his feet, one resting on either palm.

“There, that should be a safer way to travel,” Callie giggled. “Now, to the bathroom!”

Duncan saw the world around him blur as Callie began to walk, her speed making it hard for him to discern his surroundings. This wasn’t the first time he had been carried by a giant, but, unfortunately for him, it was the first time he was able to stand freely at the same time.

By Callie’s third step, he lost his balance, faceplanting into the center segment of her right pinkie finger. She took another step as he tried to push himself up, it’s impact being enough to make him abandon the effort and instinctively hug her pinkie for dear life.

“Huh?” Callie said, finally looking down and taking notice of Duncan’s predicament.

The little man could feel his face burning with embarrassment as he heard her laugh lightly overhead.

“This definitely isn’t my best moment,” he said with a nervous laugh, releasing his grip but keeping his back to her. “I guess that was kind of pathetic, huh?”

Duncan finally braved a look at Callie’s face, prepared to accept the smugness most certainly awaiting him there. Instead, he was met by her sweet, innocent smile.

“Nah, don’t worry about it,” she said. “We just gotta get used to each other is all. But we’ll get there.”

After receiving an uncertain, almost shy nod from Duncan after he regained his footing, Callie resumed her stride. However, the puny passenger noticed that the pace of their travel had become much more leisurely. Despite the world around him still whizzing by, it was obvious to him that the gargantuan girl had significantly slowed her steps.

The pair made their way beyond the invisible divide separating the kitchen from the apartment’s living room, a heavy layer of tacky dark purple shag carpet meeting linoleum serving as the only line of demarcation between the two rooms. They passed through the living space and traversed a short hallway before finding the bathroom.

The unapologetic smacks of Callie’s bare feet slapping against the tiled bathroom floor reverberated loudly around the narrow room as she took the few short steps to cover the distance between the doorway and the vanity.

Staring into the mirror above the sink, Duncan noticed that his grime-covered face barely managed to poke over the giant woman’s slightly curled fingers, her igloo-sized breasts dwarfing him at his back. He gave a defeated sigh. It had been a while since he had seen such a direct reminder of just how small he had become.

The ride down to the vanity countertop proved to be more smooth than Duncan’s earlier ascent, perhaps due to both of Callie’s hands being involved in gently lowering him back to more solid ground. He hopped off of her fingertips, the coldness of worn cultured marble assaulting the bottoms of his feet upon landing.

“Alright,” Callie said as she contemplatively looked around the room. “The tub is definitely too big for you, so I just need to find ... Hold up! I got it!”

The giant blonde hastily retreated from the bathroom, leaving Duncan stranded on the vanity. He wasn’t left alone long enough to give much thought to his situation, however, as she bounded back into the room less than a minute later, a small rectangular Tupperware container and a wash rag in her hands and a beaming grin on her face.

That grin turned into a slight frown after she set the container next to him.

“Oh, the edge is still a little taller than you,” Callie said, sounding a bit disappointed. “Sorry, but I think this is the best I can do for a tub for now.”

Duncan shot her a reassuring smirk.

“It beats the hell out of showering with the drips from the leaky pipe under your neighbor’s kitchen sink,” he said half-jokingly. “Seriously, this is more than good enough, and I really appreciate it.”

Callie said nothing in response, simply nodding as she set the rag down, reached for the vanity’s sink, and turned on the faucet. After testing the water temperature with her index finger, she quickly filled the container half way and placed it back down next to Duncan.

He reached overhead with both hands and grabbed the top of the container, pulling himself up as his right foot pushed off against the side for a boost. Balancing his midsection against the edge, he leaned down and was just able to touch the water with the tips of his fingers.

“The water feels great!” Duncan said as he let himself fall feet-first back onto the vanity.

Callie looked down on the little man in surprise.

“I guess you don’t need my help gettin’ in then?” she asked.

Duncan shook his head.

“I should be good from here,” he said.

Duncan watched as Callie grabbed two bottles from the nearby bathtub, one body wash and the other shampoo. She carefully squirted a small dab of each along the top edge of the container.

Then she reached for the mirror hovering far above him, pulling it open to reveal a massive cabinet hiding behind it. She pulled something he couldn’t make out from below from the cavernous storage area before addressing him once again.

“Okay,” she said. “I’m gonna go figure out some sorta bed for you. I’ll be back in about 20 minutes to see if you’re done.”

Callie exited the room, her feet no less noisy as she left. Duncan began to undress, looking forward to enjoying the closest thing to a real bath he had experienced in six months.

********

Callie wasted no time in heading for her bedroom closet. She tossed the small bag of cotton balls she had grabbed from the bathroom onto her bed before getting on her knees and starting to dig through the closet.

Come on, she thought. I gotta have something that’ll work in here.

Thinking back on the past hour or so, Callie was still struggling to comprehend the situation. She didn’t understand how a person could just shrink for, like, no reason. She didn’t understand how people could be as cruel as the women her new roommate had come across after he shrank.

Most of all, she didn’t understand how he was still alive or how he was able to function like everything was fine.

If she had gone through half of the stuff he described to her in his story, Callie was sure she would be reduced to a crying mess, balled up in the fetal position, at all times. What’s worse, she was sure that he had left out some of the rougher details of his journey.

She had plenty of questions after Duncan had finished telling his tale, but the truth was that she was too afraid to ask them. She wasn’t sure if she could handle the reality of what his ex had actually done to him, how he had managed to feed himself for those six months, or even where he had slept each night.

Or where exactly he’s gonna sleep here, Callie mentally noted. He’s gonna need …

She stopped mid-thought as her eyes came across an old gray shoe box. She picked it up, its lack of weight conveying emptiness. Opening up the box, she gave its interior a quick sniff, not detecting any stench coming from within.

Callie found herself wondering if Duncan would be insulted at her offering a shoe box as a temporary room. Would it be yet another reminder of how tiny he is. She had noticed that he seemed depressed when he saw the reflection of himself in her hands earlier, even if he only showed it for a brief moment.

It’ll have to do for now, she concluded. It’s the best I got right now, and we can always find something better later.

Having made a decision, Callie started to gather the other materials she needed to complete Duncan’s makeshift shelter.

********

Callie knocked on the bathroom door twice before slowly turning the doorknob. Closing her eyes and covering them with her free hand, she pushed the door slightly ajar and poked her head through the crack.

“You done yet?” she asked.

Listening closely, Callie could barely hear a faint echo in the distance.

“Yeah, you can open your eyes if you want,” Duncan shouted.

Callie dropped her hand and opened her eyes as she stepped into the bathroom. She spotted Duncan standing beside the container, dressed only in damp boxer shorts. It felt a bit awkward, and a part of her wanted her eyes to close once again, but the rest of her refused to listen.

The first thing to stand out to her was how built he was. That’s not to say he had muscles bulging all over his body, but he was certainly more toned than she would have expected, with a six-pack covering his abs and the solid muscles of his arms and legs suddenly more apparent without the distraction of his tattered clothing.

The second thing she noticed were the scars.

As Callie closed the distance between them, she could see the calling cards of several cuts and scrapes long healed but never forgotten. None were as prominent as the one left by Bigsby, but his torso and upper legs were dressed in light scarring, as well as some bruising.

As she reached the vanity, she was at a loss for words. Instead of staring at him, she focused on the stillness of the dark brown, almost mud-like bathwater in the Tupperware container.

“So I decided to clean my clothes while I was at it,” Duncan explained. “I didn’t see the point of cleaning myself and putting those ratty things back on. I left my shirt and shorts out to dry over there and dried off my boxers as best I could.”

Callie looked a few inches to the right of Duncan to see his mostly shredded shirt and ripped up shorts, sopping wet, laid out neatly on the countertop. She tried to focus on them rather than him but couldn’t help but steal another glance at him.

Without the dirt and grime covering his body, as well as his beard and hair being less raggedy, she felt like she could get a better sense of his age, which looked to be just a bit older than her own. She guessed that Duncan was somewhere in his mid-twenties at most.

“Like yeah, that totally makes sense,” Callie said, swiftly averting her eyes and looking to change the subject. “So, uh, what do you want to do now?”

Duncan stretched his arms over his head and let out a soft yawn.

“I was actually thinking of getting some sleep,” he said. “I know its not that late, but I haven’t really had a good night’s sleep in a while, and I’m pretty worn down right now.”

Eager to get out of the uncomfortable situation, Callie hastily lowered her hands for Duncan.

“Y-yeah, no problem!” she said. “Come on!”

This time, Duncan was much faster to climb into her hands, his growing trust melting Callie’s heart. Not to mention the warm yet almost tingly sensation of his little bare feet and tiny toes against her palms. She fought off a pleasurable shiver as he walked, unsure if she wanted her teeny traveler to know just how much she enjoyed holding him.

As she left the bathroom at a more accommodating speed, she saw that Duncan was also handling the trip noticeably better than the previous one. She felt a small smile creep across her lips.

The trek to her bedroom was a short one, it being directly across the hall from the bathroom. Callie walked to the dresser near the foot of her bed and set Duncan down in front of the shoe box from earlier.

“I figured you’d want some privacy, so I gave you your own room!” Callie beamed. “The door’s right over here.”

She pointed to the middle of one of the longer sides of the box. There, carved from the base to roughly three inches upward, was the “door.” She had cut the opening on three sides, leaving one longer side intact to act as a door hinge.

Cautiously, Duncan pushed the door open, stepping into the box. Callie, being curious about his reaction, carefully lifted the lid from the box. He didn’t acknowledge the removal of his ceiling, however, as he kept his eyes on the flattened ball of fabric, which showed the barest hint of the fluffiness it was hiding underneath, in a corner of the otherwise bare room.

“I didn’t think the cotton would be comfortable to sleep on by itself, so I cut a piece of bed sheet and wrapped it up,” she said. “I really tried to find ways to make this feel homey, but I didn’t have a lot of stuff around for that. And I know it’s just a shoe box, but I promise we’ll find …”

Callie stopped herself as Duncan raised a hand and looked over the rim of the box toward her.

“Like I said before, I was sleeping in a hole in the wall for the last month, so this is great, really,” he said. “Thank you.”

Duncan then approached the makeshift bed and fell back-first onto it, letting out a relaxing sigh as he landed.

“Anytime!” Callie said. “I’ll let you get your sleep now. Goodnight!”

Duncan gave a small wave, his eyes already closed as his body settled into a more comfortable position. Callie put the lid back on top of the box and left the room. Heading back down the hallway, her thoughts centered on the tiny man sleeping in a box by the foot of her bed.

Someone actually believes in me, Callie mused. Somebody thinks I’m not worthless.

And I’m gonna prove him right!

She reached the door and put on a pair of sandals she had left waiting there. Grabbing her purse from a nearby end table in the living room, she left the apartment with a newfound sense of determination.

Callie had a lot of work to do.