My Brob GF Ch 21: The Story Of The Past, The Words To Convey!

I kept my gaze locked on Ethan, feeling the cold night air bite through my soaked clothes. The wind was relentless, but I barely noticed it as I sat there, listening to him begin his story. His small voice carried through the earpiece, soft but steady, though I could sense the weight behind each word.

Ethan looked almost lost as he sat in my palm, gazing somewhere far away. He spoke of his childhood in a small town in the old Lilliputian country. "Evershade," he said, voice tinged with a sadness that seemed older than he was.

The name rang no bells. I'd studied for months to get my licenses, pouring over every detail of Lilliputian culture and history I could find. I tried to pull it up from memory, but there was nothing. It must have been a town lost to time. Or maybe... maybe it was destroyed.

My heart clenched at the thought, but I kept listening, pushing down any reaction that might distract him.

Ethan continued, describing the day his town was attacked by a group of Gulliverians. They'd descended on the city with brutal force, tearing through homes, stealing people away. His voice trembled slightly as he recalled the fear, the chaos. Buildings had crumbled, lives had been stolen, and those who couldn't be taken... they had been crushed. Or worse.

My body tensed, the anger inside me coiling tight, like a wire pulled to the breaking point. I could feel my fingers twitch, fighting the urge to close them into a fist. But I stopped myself. Ethan and Dwayne were both so small in my hand—I couldn't risk moving too much, couldn't let my own emotions shake them. I forced myself to stay calm, focusing only on his words.

And then he mentioned her—the woman we'd faced today. "Silvershade," he whispered, barely able to say the name aloud. She'd been there that day, he was certain of it, though much younger. But the image of her red hair and the eyepatch was seared into his memory. She was the reason he'd become a terrorist prevention analyst. To find her. To find out what had happened to his people, even if he was terrified of what the truth might reveal.

He stopped then, his voice trailing off as if the weight of his memories was too heavy to speak about anymore. I watched him carefully, knowing he'd put more of himself into those words than he'd ever let me see before. And yet, the only thing I could feel was a deep ache in my chest. What do you even say to something like that?

I took a slow, steady breath, trying to find something meaningful, something real. But all I could ask was, "Why didn't you tell me?"

Ethan's gaze darted up, a bit of surprise flickering in his eyes. I kept my voice soft but couldn't help the edge of hurt that crept in. "After all those weeks of getting to know each other... why didn't you tell me any of this?" My chest was tight with frustration, with the pain of knowing he'd carried this alone, never letting me see even a glimpse of it.

He glanced at Dwayne, and I could see the silent plea there, like he was searching for help, a way out of having to answer me. But Dwayne just gave a small nod, as if to say, "This one's on you, man."

Ethan took a shaky breath, running a hand through his hair as he forced a small, awkward laugh. "It's just... a sensitive subject," he mumbled, rubbing the back of his head. He looked so uncomfortable, like he'd rather be anywhere else than sitting here, spilling his soul.

I softened a little, but I didn't let it show too much. "Still though, you should've told me," I said, leaning in closer. My face was now almost level with my open palm, and I knew he could see every detail of my expression. I wanted him to see the care there, to know I was here for him now, even if I couldn't have been then.

And then, a memory floated to the surface. Our first real date. The way he'd seemed so nervous, stumbling over his words, barely able to look at me. At the time, I'd assumed it was because of the shock of my size. Brobs weren't exactly a part of his everyday life. But now...

"Wait a minute," I said, a tinge of worry slipping into my voice. "You don't... you don't think I'm like those Gulliverians, do you?" The thought hit me hard, leaving a strange emptiness in my chest. After hearing what he'd been through, the horrors he'd survived... I suddenly understood just how different his world was from mine.

Ethan met my gaze, his eyes wide as if he hadn't expected the question. For a long moment, he said nothing, just staring up at me. I could see the struggle on his face, the hesitation, the way he weighed his words.

Then he shook his head, slowly at first, and then more firmly. "No..." he whispered, his voice barely audible over the sound of the wind. "No, I don't."

A breath I hadn't realized I was holding left me in a slow sigh. Relief washed over me, mingling with something deeper, something I didn't fully understand but knew was important. He didn't see me that way. Even after everything, he didn't see me as a threat, as something monstrous. He still saw... me.

For a moment, we stayed like that, just staring at each other, two people from impossibly different worlds, sharing a quiet understanding in the vastness of the desert night.