Darcy grew more and more nervous throughout their little dinner- she had smiled and nodded at Andrew's compliments on the sauce, but as the night and unbearably bad film they watched drew on, the realization that what she was planning on doing was going to happened crept up on her like the sudden, ever marching dawn. She knew that she was excited, yes, even giddy, but even so, the idea of it made her nervous as all get out. 

She recalled that she had felt like this only one time before- it was when she had found out she had been accepted to her top university of choice and she was planning on telling her parents. She had come home early from school to bake a cake, and she had planned on serving it to them directly after dinner. She remembered, quite vividly, the frustration she felt at trying to make the perfect shade of blue for the frosting, the painstaking effort she had put into the white icing, and, maddeningly, her misspelling the phrase 'cor prudentis possidebit scientiam' on the school crest. 
Her dad, perhaps tired from that evening's clinical shift, had lamented at her,

"All I'm sayin' is that 'Roll Tide' would have been easier."

Her mother still, to this day, harried him about it. Despite the joy she felt at being accepted to her university of choice, Darcy had sweat bullets that entire dinner. Every bite, every chew, every nervous drink, she wanted to burst out and tell them.

It was the same now, she found- she wanted to burst out, clutch little Andrew in her hands and tell him the wonderful news. 

But...

She couldn't. It was too delicate of a subject- she had to get the words, and, she shivered, presentation just right. 

Even still, dinner had been quiet and the movie long. Darcy had to admit, she may never have made such good (to her) alfredo before, but that was something only half of her mind could be dedicated to- the rest was her trying to not implode. 

Andrew might have noticed her discomfort, and perhaps provided several sidelong glances over at his humongous roommate- she really couldn't tell. If he did notice, he hadn't said anything. 
Finally, mercifully, the film was over. The final credit roll, which was hipsterly and merrily droning some Sigur Ros tune, was the finally bit in which Andrew arose from his seat. Darcy had noticed that he ate most of his food, which, admittedly, wasn't too much in the grand scheme of things, but it made her happy that he had enjoyed it. 

He then trotted over to Darcy, and then with the practiced ease of someone who knew all of the right things to do in college, set his hands behind his head and leaned on Darcy's leg. He let out a ponderous sigh and closed his eyes.

"Ahhh. That was great, Darc. You've outdone yourself. Best sauce ever.”

Darcy favored him with a wry smile. 

"Oh, you charmer. You say that every time."

He slid down to sit at her leg, sinking slightly in the cushion, and set his hands forward to rest on his legs. He let out a deep breath, accompanying it was something sounding like acceptance. 

"Do I?" He queried. After a short pause, he began to nod his head slowly, and Darcy felt the minuscule rhythmic movement on her skin. "Well. I mean it."

His new tone, remarkably softer and more bittersweet than before, had struck a couple of heartstrings in Darcy- he was getting somber she realized. But about what?

She supposed it wasn't too hard to see- he was probably still in the mind of Leafstone, she reckoned. It must have been... Well, terrifying. Not in the mortal sense, she pondered- but in something about traveling to the great Next in life. Here he was, about to be uprooted and supplanted from all he had known- work, social life, home... Everything. For him, it may well have been the death she thought he was going to inflict on himself. 

To him, this would be the last time he might ever have a dinner in this apartment, the last terrible film he insisted on watching with her. 

With her. With Darcy.

That may have stung more than anything, she realized. Sure, it may have been rather self-centered on her part to think so, but based on what she had heard from him last night… it may very well have been true. 

In fact, it was what she was banking on tonight. 

After a moment's thought, she had decided what to do next- now was good a time as any, she supposed. Better now before Andrew got in too deep of a somber mood. 

Darcy took two fingers and pulled her little friend by the arms off of her leg- she wanted to get up. He sat there, his head drooping back, held in place while she contorted herself away from the seat all the while holding her friend- it was difficult; he was so damn light. He limpnoddled and when Darcy was clear of the couch, she let go and let Andrew fall onto his back with a 'guh'. She knew nothing was wrong- he got this way, all limpnoodle-like when he was going into one of his half-joking moods. She watched as he lay there, arms out, mouth open. Then, chuckling as she walked over to the kitchen, as called out, 

"Hey, don't do that- you'll let the flies in."

Andrew moaned like an undead then laughed. 

"Now that would be a terrible prospect- a fly the size of a cat jumping into my mouth."

Darcy let out a shudder. That was a terrifying thought indeed. She tried her best to concentrate on something else before she grabbed one, then two, then replaced one shot glass back into the cupboard. It had a small orange peach on it. Tourist fare.

"I think i would literally keel over and die."

"Literally?" Andrew favored her.

She walked over to the counter and hefted up the bottle of Louisiana Grey in her hand, careful to grip the bottle and not just the wax up top. She ambled over to the couch and nodded her head. 

"Literally. Now scootch your butt over, little guy." 

Andrew complied, and crawled away from the cushion where Darcy intended to sit. He knew full well that she would never sit on him an would take every care not to, but the phrase was... Comforting. Friendly. 

She hefted down, setting the tourist kitschy piece of glassware down and tore off the wax, then the cork. 

A sour smell wafted through the air, and Darcy already felt the fumes drift into her brain, hints of what the liquid gold would bring after consumption. She was never much of a hard drinker, preferring wine or beer and social drinks, but she had to admit, this stuff had its charm. 

She poured herself a shot into the glass, and then set the bottle down. She then reached over to Andrew and set her palm down, let him climb on, then brought him over to the table, where she got him a little drop of the brown, and then set him back down onto the couch. 

Here she went. 

When both had their drinks, Andrew raised his little drop. 

"To years of friendship and fun. You've been," he paused, his voice so very close to breaking, "you've been one hell of a roommate and pal, Darcy. I could never have asked for a more wonderful and caring woman to call a friend, and I will never forget you as long as I live."

He raised his hand out and waited for Darcy to do the same. For a split second... She hesitated. She was a whirl of emotion, of stress. She wanted so badly to tell him that he didn't have to worry, to not go, to not say all those things but... She did.

"To us," she said with a smile, and then tapped his hand with her glass.

Down the hatch it went, stinging and refreshing and terrible and very Hemingway. Darcy set the glass down and gritted her teeth. 

"Jeeeesus... Andrew, that stuff is powerful..."

Andrew laughed at that. He was happy to have drank it, most especially with Darcy. He had in fact been preparing all night what he might say, what he might explain to better ease his confession of his loving her. He thought that he had come up with a good bit of exposition that would explain where he was coming from, and he hoped that it would clear things up for both him and her. A clean break. A complete open air to which to leave. He had some stuff he wanted to say, and he hoped that she understood. 

"Darcy," he began, softly, closing his eyes. "There's something I want to tell yo-whoa." 

When he looked up at her, he realized that she had taken her second shot. 

"Whoa," he began with a smile, "you're hitting that pretty hard, dude... You should slow, uh, down?"

His confusion continued when she saw Darcy rise up from her seat and wipe her mouth. She looked down at her little friend and without expression stated,

"Here we go," she said herself. Then, to Andrew, "I'll be right back."

With that, she dashed over to the kitchen, flung the cabinet doors open, retrieved the little pink bag, then power walked over to her room, shutting the door.

For a moment, Andrew was dumbstruck. A bit of him shuddered and started to kick himself for what he said, but he didn't think that those words were anything harmful or revealing. Still. 

"Shiiiit." He couldn't shake that feeling again. That feeling he had when she confessed himself to her, vomited out his feelings. Had he screwed it up again already? Stupid.

He set himself back down and licked the rest of the bourbon from his hand. Wasn't as tasty the second time. For a moment he just sat there, idly watching the television- some such or other late night program was on, reruns of legendary old shows about nothing in particular. Quaint oddities and concerns. 

He let the bourbon take hold of his senses and soul. It was pleasant, the way it subtlety numbed his body without his knowing. Like some alcohol dawn. It took more than a shot or two to get him loose, but then again, this was the first time he drank while diminished. The doctor, or rather, the paper that was given to him by the doctor, advised him to abstain from alcoholic beverages, especially while pregnant and tiny. Andrew was not pregnant (he hoped), but he was in fact tiny. Something, he believed, required a drink or two to deal with. 

His eyes started to grow heavy and begin to droop when his phone vibrated, causing him to nearly piss himself. 

"Jesus."

He arose up, shaking his head and trying to get the booze buzz out. He wasn't quite drunk, but only a buzzy bee. He hit the center button and swiped away the lock screen. One new message. 

"Huh."

He tapped it, the application fleeting to life and displayed pixelated words.

Read at 9:13p.

Darcy- "will you turn off the tv please?"

Andrew was nonplussed. Why didn't she come and it off herself? It certainly would be simpler... He winced at the thought- how annoying. He knew he couldn't be expected because of his size, but it was really irritating to realize. 

Nonetheless, he walked away from his phone and over to the controller that was on the other side of the cushion. Searching for the red power button, he hopped up and pressed down on it with both hands- a trick he learned last night when going to bed. 

He replied back,

Andrew- "k done"

Seen at 9:15p.

Silence for a minute. Andrew sat and listened intently for a minute and heard Darcy at her bedroom door. He thought he heard a deep breath and exhale. 

Then, suddenly, the door cracked open and then, bit by bit, it opened wide to Darcy's room.

Standing there at the doorway was Darcy herself. There, the southern moonlight shining through the pines and illuminating her hair and skin and smile, stood she in a black tight-fitting corset, black lace panties, and black heels. Dark eye liner surrounded her warm and inviting eyes, and she wore a more brilliantly red shade of lipstick than he'd ever seen on her soft lips.

She stood with her legs crossed, the toe of her shoe on the carpet twisting. Atop her head were a pair of fuzzy leopard-print cat ears, parting her wild fro and pushing the front to drape slightly over her eyes.

She smiled softly at him, her hands brushing up her body and then finally coming to rest on the door frame on either side of her. 

"Hi, Andrew."

She looked a mix of nervous and excited to him, some blushing virgin on her wedding night. 

"H... Hi, there... Darcy." He swallowed the lump in his throat down. "What are... What are you, w-wearing? I mean, Jesus, you look great, but..." 

He could barely choke the words out. Even across the room Darcy could make out his blushing red cheeks. She chuckled, closed the door behind her, and started forward, purposefully swaying her hips to and fro. Andrew could only continue to gape and stare up at this titanic beauty of a woman. Her approach was like, in his mind, watching a tidal wave coming towards you at the beach- something terrible, beauteous, ruinous, captivating. Impossible to run from.

And he didn't mind it one bit, he found.

Darcy knelt down as she got to the couch, holding both of her hands out and palms up. Andrew, still in an eager shock, climbed on but didn't sit down- like he forgot to or something. 

She raised him to her face, still kneeling, smiling and warm and beaming down on him. She felt like some benevolent goddess, favoring a subject with an audience with hers truly- a thought she didn't seem to mind entertaining, actually. Still, as eager as she was to act on those urges, she had a business to attend to. Some words she has to say. 

"Andrew..." She began. 

For a moment, the whole bit evaporated from her mind- she had forgotten what to say, and she had suddenly realized that this silly little charade was a folly. Who was she to make things right, to patch it over? She couldn't dissuade him from Leafstone, any more than she could persuade herself to accept it.

But then he spoke out to her... 

"Yeah, Darcy?"

And she remembered.

"I can't tell you how much I want to you to stay." The open was direct, to the point. "I can't stand the thought of you leaving. It makes my stomach hurt. I know it's unfair of me to do this, and, man, Andrew, I feel like a wishy washy jerk to say this but," 

She swallowed. Andrew watched intently, his hands relaxed at his sides. 

"But I never realized how much a part of my life you are. How huge of an element you are to me. You... You've always been there. Always. Every bad time, every good time. Every break up, bad day at work, every crisis, every birthday. Always. You're the best roommate, confidante, and I... Well, the best friend I could ever have hoped to have in my life. You're the perfect guy. You're a gentleman, and you've been my knight in shining armor more than once."

She watched Andrew closely. Some impassive look crept on his face, and she knew that he'd heard this before. What she was saying didn't help the fact, didn't help who he wanted to be. She had to get to it.

"And," she continued, "I've been thinking about it... Since last night, I mean. I realized that... Well, dammit Drew, I just can't think of a life without you! Sure, I might manage well enough, and maybe I could be happy but I..."

She hung her head and closed her eyes.

"I don't want to just manage, Andrew. I want to be with you. I can't think of a life without your smile, your support, your laugh...your love..."

She looked up at him, her eyes showing the very hint of moisture.

"Andrew, I want you by my side, I want you with me. But I don't want you as just my best friend."

She watched him and he watched her. He began to nod, slowly, his blue eyes shining in the starlight. 

"I'm so sorry I didn't see it before, I was so blind. Everything was there, right under my nose. The flowers you always bought and put in the kitchen, the way you always had my favorite candy. The so many times you've listened to my problems with your open shoulder and a cold drink. Everything. You've always been there for me."

She brought him closer to her face.

"I... I want to be there for you, Andrew. Not just as a friend, I mean. I think..." She swallowed, cracking a bit of a smile, "I think I've fallen for you too. I just didn't know it."

She saw him crack a smile as well. Her heart felt all the lighter for it.

"I want to try a relationship with you, Andrew. If you still want to, I mean. I've been neglectful, and, well, downright stupid and blind, I know, and you've all the right to say hell no or call me a jerk and a hypocrite... But Andrew... If you give me a chance..."

She let the words hang at that. Andrew seemed to just look at her for a bit, studying her face. She recognized that look- it was the same he had when he was thinking hard on something. She saw his tongue being chewed in his mouth, indicating that he was indeed mulling it over.

She grew… a bit nervous, she had to admit. Granted, this was all probably a shock to him, her confession of romantic intent on the eve of his departure… a bit of her felt guilty for that, in fact. But still. She had to say it, otherwise it would have driven her insane. She did have those feelings for Andrew, she knew that now, having him stand in her hands in the moonlight. She didn’t want to keep those feelings to herself. It may have been self-centered, short-sighted, and very weak-kneed on her part, but… to her, it felt like the right thing to do. She hoped that he appreciated that.

Andrew nodded his head thoughtfully, and threw up at Darcy the toothiest grin she’d ever seen on the little guy.

“Darcy, there’s nothing I’d love more. Let’s try it.”

"So... You'll stay?"

He nodded, smiling.

"Yeah. I'll stay... With you."

The dam burst, and despite herself, she shed a couple of hot but very happy tears. 

“Oh, Andrew…”

She leaned over, full red lips pursed, and gave him the biggest kiss on the head he’d ever be like to receive. He met the lips full on, smiling his biggest and wrapping his arms on either side of her mouth.

She dared, and her tongue flicked across his little body, massaging him in his torso and stomach. The feeling brought a shudder to both participants, and Darcy found herself enraptured by the feeling.

The kiss was ecstatic, for both! To Darcy, it seemed the logical conclusion of all those funny feelings she’d had over the past few days while holding or carrying Andrew- some exciting lust at the novelty of having a tiny man in her life. She realized now (or rather last night) that it was an anticipation for him, a sexual drive that made her feel like this. In short, she felt like a predator over prey, a guardian, a caretaker, and a lover, all towards this little man. She got curious enough to look it up at work today- some hotshot German psychologist had taken to calling it geschrumpftenlust, or ‘shrunken lust.’

Darcy wasn’t a scientist, but she knew one thing for sure- it drove her absolutely wild to feel like a giant for Andrew.

She drew back from her tiny love, licking her lips and savoring the taste of his skin and hair, the sweat he had felt in the heat of the moment.

Before she could stop herself, she blurted, "you taste good!"

Andrew rolled his eyes and laughed. 

"That's only slightly terrifying." 

She giggled at that as well. For a second, they just stood there, Andrew in her hands and she kneeling at the couch. The novel feelings overtaking them and making them feel... Well, contented.

Darcy let out a happy sigh. She felt this was right. Sure, it was exciting to have a tiny boyfriend (far smaller than anyone she had ever had by at least five and half feet, she mused), but it was also comforting, warm, to know that she was in a relationship with someone she cared for- not some guy she met at a bar, not a friend from work- but a true, honest-to-God bro. 

Of course, she had to admit, he was devilishly handsome at times. Not to mention handily cute at this size.

Out of habit she bit her lip. He grinned and looked her up and down.

"So, uh," he started, his eyes hanging a little too long at her barely covered bosom, "what's with the get up?"

She chuckled, looking herself down as well to her legs, then back up at him. She shifted her weight and torqued over, leaning to the side and setting Andrew down onto the carpet below.

"Well," she started, rising up and standing up to her full height. Now that must have been a sight to behold. Even without heels, Darcy towered over most women. The sight of her on all black with her black heels must have been something bordering on the divine. She looked down at Andrew from between her chest, the little man cranking his head up and baking away, out of some possibly animal fear, her big and pointer toes poking out from the shoes.

He looked so small. Even her toe dwarfed the miniscule man. 

And that pleased her all the better.

"Well... I want to do something for you..."

She bent over him and bit her lip. Her hands found her breasts and kneaded softly.

"Something I should have done for you a long time ago."

She flashed him a coy smile, southern moonlight through the pines playing across her skin.