Just Realized The Next Chapter Will Have No G/t In It... But Its A Shorter Chapter, Only Like 800 Words

Just realized the next chapter will have no g/t in it... but its a shorter chapter, only like 800 words I think so hopefully that makes up for the lack of g/t in my g/t story

tiny that requires an exponentially more amount of validation n attention than the avg person

🤝

giant with adhd and cant stop fidgeting

Chapter five! Sorry for not updating in a but I've been busy, this ones kinda short, enjoy!

“Okay, so you need new clothes.” I say while loosely gesturing at Isabelle's threadbear dress that she's clearly had just a few years too long.

We got to the safe house about half an hour ago, and Isabelle has already had three panic attacks and even bit atlas once when he tried to pick her up. She looks down at her dress and then backs up at me, her expression clearly conveying that she doesn't think they make clothes in her size.

“Atlas over here makes doll clothes, I'm sure he has something in your size.” I gesture over to Atlas who is wasting a bandaid on the small bite mark that isn't even bleeding.

Atlas has told me that he plans to be a dressmaker once he gets out of college. He works with me since we make a lot of money in our line of work so he can save up to start his own business. He makes miniature versions of his designs for practice, which im sure would fit isa perfectly.

“I'll draw you a nice bath while atlas grabs those?” i suggest, and she just gave me a weird look. With a sigh I grab a small bowl from the cupboard and set in behind the old breadbox. Most of the kitchen appliances here are pretty old and the house is old despite the money we make.

We have to keep a low profile.

Besides, most of our money goes to buying weapons and extra cars so we can’t be traced. “You can go behind there for a bit of privacy, we won't look, promise.”

Atlas says, and I watch her carefully step behind the breadbox as I fill a cup up with warm water to fill the bowl with. I send atlas to go grab a bit of shampoo, conditioner and body wash in a bottle cap.

My hand Hesitates for a moment when Isabelle lets out a small sound of surprise while I was reaching my hand in to grab the bowl. “Not looking, just grabbing the bowl.” I reassure her.

She reminds me a bit of a squirrel. She jumps at the slightest movement, when we were eating early I saw her stuff a bit of food into her pockets, she's fast, and most notably her size.

Now that we aren't actively trying to escape the lab, I'm able to fully take in her size. She goes against everything I learned in school. Logicly, a person of her unique stature wouldn't be able to produce enough body heat to keep themselves alive and would need to be constantly moving and eating to keep themselves alive. Kinda like how hummingbirds drink sugar water and are constantly in a state of movement.

Yet, here she is. Defying math and logic itself by standing at a mere fourish inches tall and near starving to death via malnourishment and seemingly producing enough body heat to not freeze death.

Hopefully she'll answer my questions and explain what had happened to make her like this before her brother comes to collect her. I can't explain why, but the thought of her leaving makes my heart heavy.

With a sigh, I make sure she has everything she needs before I leave the kitchen to go find atlas. It doesn't take long because he's usually in either one of two places, his bedroom or the studio.

I do the same knock that anna did during ‘do you want to build a snowman’ on the studio door, and wait for his confirmation that i can come in.

“knock normally.” he calls back, i can tell that he's focused. A grin stretches across my face and I proceed to bang on his door, again to the tune of the famous kids song. He groans and I laugh, “come in.”

I enter the studio and am immediately hit with the scent of fabric glue invading my sense of smell, I cover my nose while opening the window closest to him. “What are you working on? And does it need that much glue?” I ask, and atlas doesn't even bother to look up.

“Pajamas, Isabelle needs something to sleep in doesn't she?” he replies dryly, a small sigh escapes his lips as he sets down his pin to look up at me.

“Am I in trouble for hitting you with the car?” i laugh at the question, “of course you are.” he deflates, and goes back to his work. “Unless. . .” I start with a smile in my voice, and he turns back and spins around in his chair immediately.

“Find out everything you can about isabelle.”

Somebody should hire and pay giants just don't this

when im feeling Bad it always comes with an overwhelming urge to find a giant hand and press myself into their palm until their fingers loosely surround me and i’m just fully embraced while they gently pet my head with a fingertip w their other hand. is that too much to ask

Rick is kind of jealous of how easy Isabella has it