Cassandra turned on the lights. A dimness lit up the kitchen. She took in a deep breath. Her hair, a perfectly mundane shade of burnt firewood, seemed to bob and rise with her breath. Her legs seemed to weigh thousands of pounds, a parting gift from a long day of walking about the city, but she tried her best to smile anyways. These were the times that she loved the most. She walked slowly in the almost-light, deliberately on the tips of her sneakers, into the living room, around the corner, right beside the couch. The television sat blankly a couple feet out from it, volume turned as low as possible.

"I can hear you, ya big jerk," called a soft voice from the couch.

Cassandra giggled. These were the times that she loved the most.

"What's that sound? Is that a pipsqueak trying to talk to me?" she replied.

"Oh lay off, you can hear me perfectly fine."

"Why, who oh who could be watching Netflix at this hour of night? Guess I have no choice but to sit down gently on this nice, soft, empty couch," said Cassandra.

She bent down, carefully, lowering herself centimeter by centimeter.

"Okay okay, you win, the remote's on the table."

"Was that the wind? Did I leave the door open?"

The voice groaned. "The pipsqueak humbly offers the huge moon ass jerkface the remote, placed on the countertop in her kitchen."

Cassandra immediately straightened up, turning her back to the television. On the right couch cushion sat a small young woman, roughly the height of half a Barbie doll. It was hard to make out in her own shadow, but Cassandra could almost see a miniature grin on her face as well.

"Thank you Abby," said Cassandra in her usual sing song voice.

"You're welcome, Cass," replied Abigail, smiling through her gritted teeth.

Cassandra skipped over to the table, her steps now as loud and obnoxious as possible. Picking up the remote, she skipped back to the couch, plopping down on the left couch cushion. She stretched her arms out, as if reaching for something, moving her right hand along the left cushion, until her hands grasped what she was looking for. Picking Abby up, she slid her legs across the couch, her body now taking up the entire couch. She brought her hand to her face.

"So how was my favorite little tiny girlfriend's day?" she asked.

Abigail wanted to say that she wasn't expecting this, but that would be a blatant lie. She loved these moments the most, when a hand slightly smaller than her entire body would snatch her up far, far off the ground. It felt nice to be picked up. The warmth of Cassandra's hands, and the firm yet soft malleability of her hands seemed to be as close to a hug as Cassandra could give her. Well, the closest thing to a normal sized hug, Abigail noted as she felt Cassandra's long, long arms wrap around her body, pinning her to the chest of the one person she loved the most in the world. There were advantages to being a bit over 5 inches tall.

It felt strange to admit it, but a year and a half ago Abigail would be freaking out right about now. She had lived most of her life being afraid of things bigger and stronger than her, which at her size meant just about everything. But with Cassandra... with Cass things felt different. She felt like she could trust Cassandra, that every jerky movement, every casual taunt, every time she faked sitting down right on top of her little doll was intentional, planned, controlled. And even when it wasn't, she felt brave enough to ride along with Cassandra on whatever crazy idea she came up with next.

The television cackled way, way out in front of her. She couldn't quite tell what was going on in the show the two lovebirds were watching. Was this the X-Files? Cass was always trying to get her to watch it. It wasn't like she had much of a choice in the matter. But, if she was going to be held against her will, watching a dorky police procedural with her girlfriend was probably not the worst possible form of torture.

"So, how was your day?" asked Abigail.

"Huh?" said Cassandra, instinctively lowering the television.

"I said, how was your day today?" asked Abigail, louder.

"Oh, today was pretty fine, nothing much" said Cassandra.

"Are you sure?"

"Well, pretty fine, if you call getting a gig for Coachella fine!" shouted Cassandra. She looked down at Abigail, her head and neck taking up a good bit of the poor girl's sightline. "Oh, sorry about that, I'll be quieter."

"No, no, it's fine," said Abigail. "You're playing at next year's Coachella? Holy shit, damn that's good. You're so great at everything."

"No, you're great at everything."

"No you are."

"No you are."

"Alright I'm going to put an end to that, because that was just so sweet I think I'm about to throw up."

"No I am."

"But damn girl, I knew that you could do it. So I guess you're headed for the big leagues, you big hipster music dork."

"I- I guess I am," said Cassandra.

She could tell something was off with Abigail. Usually when they cuddled together, Abby would be snuggling right up to her. But right now she just lay unmoving. It was nice to be able to hold her delicate little angel in her arms like this, but she couldn't quite shake the feeling that something was wrong. It felt uncomfortable holding her like this, it made Cassandra feel like she was hurting Abby, even if she knew that she was being as meticulous as a curator around a museum's crown jewel.

She was always aware of how she seemed to other people. Being six three could be a bit difficult sometimes. People stepped out of her way for her, guys seemed visibly nervous whenever she tried to flirt. Young women weren't supposed to be taller than their boyfriends. But with Abigail, sweet thing, she didn't feel like a giant monster. She felt free, free to be a little stupid and a little rough and a little big, because Abby let her. When she held Abby in her arms, as close as possible to her beating heart, she didn't feel big. She felt normal.

"Are you sure you're okay?" she asked.

"Yeah, I'm fine, today was just fine."

"Just fine? A lot of things are fine. I'm fine af."

Abigail giggled, the smallest, most adorable squeak coming out from her mouth. "I know you are,"

"Then tell me what's wrong," said Cassandra.

"It's... it's nothing."

"Are you worried about the Coachella thing? Because if you don't feel comfortable going all the way to California, I can cancel right here, right now."

"It's not that, it's just..."

"It's just what? Do I smell? Seriously, tell me if I smell, my nose does not work, like, at all."

"It's not that, it's just, well, our one year anniversary is coming up, and"

"Oh shit, really? I completely forgot about that, sorry, how does Chinese takeout dinner sound?"

"Uh..."

"Kidding, kidding, of course I didn't forget. Not that I'm telling you my surprise."

Abigail had already seen the reservation for the fanciest spot in Boston, but she wanted to keep that little secret. Cassandra's happiness whenever she tried to surprise Abigail was a reward all its own.

"Well of course, nothing but the best for my guitar dork."

"Oh, you. But seriously, what's up with you today? You seem a little.... Held back, if that makes any sense."

"Well, I-"

"Don't tell me, you... want to watch something else,"

"No, it's not that, it's"

"You need to use the bathroom."

"I'm fine, it's just"

"You... want to break up with me?"

"What? No, of course not, are you going to listen or not?"

"Sorry, sorry."

"It's just that our first anniversary is coming up, and your career's doing so well, and I'm still struggling away at my crappy desk job, and...."

"So what? Your job is amazing. I wish that I was good enough with numbers to be an accountant for the biggest insurance firm on the east coast."

"Well it's not the biggest,"

"It's the best, because you're in it."

"I just.... I feel useless, you know? I feel like you're going off to do great things, and I feel like I'm just weighing you down."

"Well you don't weigh very much at all."

"It's just.... I feel pointless. You need to bring me to the bathroom, and get me to work, and cook, and clean, and you do all this great stuff that I don't deserve."

"Deserve? I don't deserve you. You're so kind, and charming, and smart, and.... Hold on a sec."

Suddenly, Cassandra's grip on Abigail loosened up, letting her tumble down to the couch. Getting up, Abigail felt the world shake. Her enormous girlfriend stood up, seeming to become part of the landscape that was the apartment. Even something as simple as getting up seemed to shake Abigail to her very core.  Cassandra turned down the volume of the television, until the soft rumble of the screen was all that was audible, even for Abigail. She watched as Cassandra walked out of the living room, her steps like distant thunder roars. When Cass came back in view, she carried in her arms a soft tan guitar.  Abigail let the enormous hand pick her up again, this time placing her down into Cassandra's lap.

"I think what you need, is a good song," said Cass, looking down on the little doll sitting on her left thigh.

"Blow me away," replied Abigail with her usual snark.

"Don't try me."

Cassandra strummed the guitar once, which for Abigail sounded like a concert on its own, a concert for one. She took a deep breath, and began to sing.

"Why are there so many songs about rainbows and what's on the other side?" she softly sang. "Rainbows are visions, but only illusions, and rainbows have nothing to hide."

Abigail swayed with the rhythmic movement of Cassandra's legs. "So we've been told and some choose to believe it," sang Abby, shouting out into the dead air of night. "I know they're wrong, wait and see."

Cassandra grinned, wider than she ever thought possible. "Someday we'll find it, the rainbow connection, the lovers, the dreamers...."

She looked down to find Abby cuddled up against her belly button, already fast asleep. She put down her guitar, lying back on her side, her perfect little doll pulled up close to her face.

"And me," murmured Cassandra, as her eyelids closed shut.