My Brob GF Ch 39: An Awkward Discovery!

I pushed my pants down a little further and leaned in closer. That's when I saw it. At first, I thought it was lint or fuzz from the dryer.

I pushed my pants down a little further and leaned in closer. That's when I saw it.

At first, I thought it was lint or fuzz from the dryer. A little speck stuck in the creases near my upper thigh. But then it moved.

My blood turned to slush.

"What is that?" I whispered, leaning so close to the mirror I nearly smacked my forehead against it.

And then it clicked.

"Oh my god."

It was Ethan.

This tiny moving speck, gripping onto one of my hairs for dear life. His shirt was torn in places, hair drenched with sweat—my sweat, I realized with horror—and his face, tiny as it was, had the kind of expression you'd only expect from someone who just walked through an apocalypse and somehow survived it with sarcasm intact.

I slapped my hand over my mouth. I couldn't scream. I couldn't scream.

"Ethan?" I whispered, squinting at him. "Is that really you?!"

The speck raised one arm, waving.

"Yeah, it's me! Surprise!"

My voice nearly cracked with how gently I tried to speak. "How—how did you get in there?! I thought you were at my place! You weren't supposed to—why—how?!"

I started breathing too fast, so I forced myself to pause, inhale through my nose, exhale slowly. No mistakes now. I had to be careful.

"Hold on, okay? Don't move. Don't move a millimeter."

I reached in slowly—so slowly—and pinched the waistband open wider with one hand while bringing the other in with pinpoint precision. He scrambled toward my fingertips, and I swear it felt like defusing a bomb with chopsticks.

After a moment of sheer heart-stopping tension, I managed to scoop him up and gently place him on the bathroom sink's cool porcelain surface.

He rolled over, panting, then just lay there like a guy who'd survived being swallowed by a dragon.

"You okay?" I asked, crouching down so I could see him better. "Please tell me you're okay."

Ethan raised a thumb, then sat up. "I mean... I just did my daily mountain climbing, experienced a micro-earthquake, and somehow stuck to a human skyscraper like a lint ball, but yeah, I'm good."

I blinked.

Then, despite myself, I laughed. Just a little. But it was enough to break the tension. If he was joking, then he was still Ethan. That meant he was okay.

I shook my head and lowered my voice again. "Ethan. How... how did you end up in my pants?"

He grinned sheepishly. "So, remember when I said I'd be working from your place today? Well, funny story... I dropped my communicator, chased it behind your dresser, tripped into your shoe... and long story short, I went on the wildest ride of my life."

I groaned and pressed a palm to my forehead. "I am so sorry. I didn't even think to check. You were in my shoe?!"

"Yeah. Wasn't planning on it. Your foot is terrifying by the way."

I let out a snort I tried to stifle with the back of my hand.

"You poor thing," I said. "You could've been crushed. Or lost. Or—ugh, I feel horrible."

Ethan stood and brushed himself off like a proud survivor. "Honestly? Don't beat yourself up. It was an accident. Besides... I've been getting used to giants. You're not even the scariest one."

I smirked. "Gee, thanks."

He shrugged. "I mean that in the nicest possible way."

I let out a small giggle, shaking my head again. Then my expression turned serious. "Ethan. There's something I need to tell you."

He blinked up at me. "Huh?"

"There's been an attack."

His joking demeanor dropped instantly. "An attack?"

I nodded. "The Brobdingnagian capital. And... the Lilliputian capital. Ten Lillis dead. Five Brobs. No injuries. No explosions. Just... they dropped. No warning. No survivors."

Silence sat between us like fog.

Ethan looked down, then back up at me. "I need to go home."

I nodded again, already reaching for my communicator. "I know."

I stood there for a moment, just watching him. Ethan—barely a speck, practically a dust mote on the counter—looking up at me with that ever-determined stare, like he hadn't just gone on a survival adventure through my workout clothes. My heart ached a little.

I didn't want him to go.

Not like this. Not when everything felt so unfinished.

"I want to go with you," I said, the words slipping out softer than I meant. "To Lilliput. But... you know it'd take days just to get clearance. I'd have to apply for an international crossing permit, explain why I'm bringing weapons-grade thighs into your country.

He gave a tiny shrug, like he already knew.

That made it worse.

"Come with me, please," I said gently, lowering my hand again, extending a single finger like a bridge.

It still blew my mind, how small he was. And yet, when he stepped onto my finger, there was this grace to it—like he was walking with purpose. I held my breath as he made his way across, crossing the curve of my knuckle, taking steady steps despite the dips and ridges in my skin. He didn't seem scared anymore, that was a good sign. When he reached the middle of my palm, I instinctively curled my fingers in, just slightly. A shield.

My heart felt like it was going to punch a hole through my ribs.

I said a quick, quiet goodbye to Darcy on my way out—she raised an eyebrow but didn't press. Thank God. I wasn't ready to explain what I didn't fully understand yet.

The whole walk home, I kept my hand steady, pressed close to my chest, like a secret I couldn't bear to lose. I walked slower than I ever had before. Every crack in the sidewalk was a trap. Every gust of wind a threat.

I didn't want our little vacation to end like this.

When I got home, I went straight to my room. No pit stops. No distractions. I shut the door behind me and crossed to the bed, slowly easing myself down. I placed my palm on the bedspread, palm up, and uncurled my fingers to let Ethan step off.

He walked a few steps, then stopped, glancing around. "Where are we?"

"My room," I said softly. "Sorry for the wait."

He turned back toward me. "Huh. Didn't recognize it without the massive treadmill of death."

I smiled, though it didn't quite reach my eyes.

I stayed quiet for a second. Then, slowly, I turned around and began to pull my hoodie over my head. My shirt clung from sweat—gross, I know—and I tossed both garments aside, standing there in my sports bra, spine tingling like I was about to jump into cold water.

"Before you leave..." I said, turning around again, meeting his tiny gaze.

I held out my hand again, lower this time. My voice was quiet, but honest.

"Should we not take things to the next level?"

Not as a joke. Not as a tease.

But as a question from someone who didn't want to say goodbye without saying something more.