The Brob Girl Ch 36: Doubts & Fears!

The days started blending together after the whole ear fiasco. Life with Abbie wasn't bad by any means, but something about it felt... off. She still made me breakfast, lunch, and dinner—an act I couldn't help but find sweet, even if she was a bit distracted while doing it. I'd watch her massive hands carefully place my meals onto a plate that might as well have been a football field to me. It was fascinating, really. Every movement she made, every flick of her wrist, was deliberate, calculated, as if she was constantly afraid of breaking something—or someone.

When she wasn't around, I had plenty of time to myself. Too much time, if I was being honest. She'd leave for her classes early in the morning, usually with a quick "I'll be back later, Michael!" booming through the apartment. Then her heavy footsteps would fade into the distance, leaving me alone on the counter or wherever she'd set me up for the day.

Abbie was working on her handler's license. That's what she told me, anyway. Apparently, in Brobdingnag, you needed one of those to legally hold a Lilliputian. It was refreshing, really, to see a Brob who actually cared about Lilliputian safety. A lot of them didn't. I'd lived among Brobs long enough to know that most treated us like bugs at best and playthings at worst. But not Abbie. She was different.

Or at least, she used to be.

Over the past few days, something had changed. She wasn't talking to me as much. She still made my meals, still said hello and goodbye, but it felt... distant. Like she was going through the motions without really engaging. I'd try to spark a conversation when she was home, but her responses were short, her smile forced.

"She couldn't still be mad about the ear thing, could she?" I muttered to myself one afternoon as I sat on the edge of the table, staring at the door and waiting for her to come home. I'd already apologized a dozen times. What more did she want?

The door creaked open, and her familiar thunderous footsteps echoed through the apartment. "Michael, I'm home," she called, her voice tired, almost robotic.

I rolled my eyes. It wasn't like I couldn't hear her stomping in from a mile away.

I watched as she walked into the kitchen, dropping her bag onto the counter with a dull thud. She pulled out her earbud—the one connected to the little communication device I wore—and slipped it into her ear.

"Hi, Abbie," I said, my voice echoing faintly in her ear.

"Hey," she mumbled, already walking toward her room.

"Wait!" I yelled, my tiny voice crackling through the comm device.

To my surprise, she actually stopped. She turned, her massive form looming over me from across the room. "What is it, Michael?" she asked, her tone flat.

I hesitated for a moment. Her energy was so different, and it threw me off. But I couldn't just let this go on. "Can we... can we just talk?"

Her lips pressed together in a thin line, and she let out a sigh. She walked toward the table, her footsteps heavier than usual, the vibrations rattling my tiny frame. When she reached me, she sat down, her eyes staring down at me like twin moons.

"What do you want to talk about?" she asked, her voice quieter but still carrying that same distant tone.

I stood up, crossing my arms. "I want to know why you're still mad at me."

"I'm not mad," she said, almost too quickly.

"Of course you're mad," I shot back. "You've barely talked to me since the ear thing. You're keeping me at arm's length—literally. I already apologized, so what's the deal?"

"I'm not mad," she repeated, her voice a little firmer this time.

"Then what is it?" I asked, throwing up my hands. "If you'd just tell me—"

"Stop!" she yelled, her voice booming through the room like a shockwave.

The force of it knocked me backward, and I tumbled across the table, landing in a heap a few feet away. My ears were ringing, my heart racing.

When I looked up, I saw her staring down at me with wide eyes, her hand covering her mouth. "Oh my god," she whispered. "Michael, I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to—I wasn't thinking—"

I slowly sat up, brushing myself off. "It's fine," I muttered, though my heart was still pounding. "Just... what's going on with you?"

She took a deep breath, lowering her hand from her face. "Michael," she said quietly, "ever since I became a Brob, I've... I've questioned whether I should ever be near a Lilli again."

I blinked, her words not registering right away. "What do you mean, 'became a Brob'?"

She froze, her lips parting slightly as if she'd just realized what she'd said. For a long moment, she didn't say anything, her eyes locked on mine.

And in that silence, a million questions swirled in my head.