Storm (G/T)

On Top of the World

"I can't leave!" I protest, turning back to face Austin.

"Interesting how you say that after many attempts of doing so." He knows I don't want to leave.

"Well," I begin, knowing I have to come up with another excuse. "I'm sick still. Maybe your sickness translates fatally onto me. I can't go out with a fatal contagious disease that I contracted from some rogue giant, the people will kill me if the sickness doesn't first."

"You have a light cough, and it's not even showing right now." In response, I bring my sleeve up to my face and start violently hacking in an attempt to stay. While doing so, I never break eye contact. He doesn't look amused. "Do you want help with packing-"

"Yeah." My voice is shaky, the same way it was when we first met. It's no longer out of fear or anger, but sadness. He takes me over to my backpack, with the straps sewn back on, to have me check and make sure everything's there (which it is) and walks away, coming back with my clothes in his hand. The pile is massive, though small in his hand.

"I imagine these won't all fit, I can try to get you a bag or something. It's a long way back, you won't want to carry all this."

I pause. "Then why don't you?"

"Why don't I..." he trails off, and it hits. "I can't go near more humans. I don't think they'll trust me."

"Well what makes you say that?" I joke around. "I welcomed you with open arms when I first met you!"

"Yeah, I even acquired a mark of love to prove it!" He jokes back, pointing to the tip of his nose. "Honestly, humans clearly don't seem to be too fond of my appearance. It's best for me to stay hidden."

"You don't have to go the full length, I'll let you drop out once we get closer to humans. The only humans I've even seen near here are a couple of police officers, but they were easy to avoid." I quietly zip up my backpack. "Do you really want me to go?"

"I don't mind you staying. I just want you to know that I'm not keeping you here against your will anymore." Maybe it's best if I do leave. I have school, a job. I need a place to live. I still have to go through a couple more surgeries. I have so much on my plate...

"Are you ready to go?"

I swallow a lump in my throat I didn't know I had. "Sure."

He stuffs the clothes in his pocket and carries me on his shoulder, holding my backpack on his middle finger like a ring. We walk out the door after he picks up a white paint marker. Not sure what it's for. Being on his shoulder is a new feeling, but an empowering one. I feel like I belong here when I'm at this height. Everything is where it's meant to be. "So how far from here?"

"About two hours or so away is where I found you, but I'm willing to go a little further," he replies. "You were just a bit outside the forest."

"I don't know where I'm going to go still."

"Well," he gives a slight cough. He's definitely healing, since it's the first one in a while and really light. "You can always look for rest stops. Why didn't you use your phone? Are there not maps on there?"

"I lost service because of the storm," I explain. "And there's none at your house either." I find myself beginning to fall, and I grip onto the fabric of the flannel to prevent a drop.

"Well," he begins, stopping for a second to let me stabilize. He noticed me without even looking. "I'm sorry but I have to interrupt, is my shoulder not stable? I can hold you or put you on my head or something."

"That's weird," I retort.

"Only if you make it weird. After all, it'd make you taller than me. Dare I say, you might even make it to 207 zents."

I sigh. "It's a good bargain. Go off."

He chuckles and lifts me up onto his pale yellow beanie. If I didn't feel high and mighty before, I do now.

"Is this fine?" He asks, not yet moving. "Nothing weird or unstable?" 

"No, this is amazing." I'm getting over my fear of heights again. "I can't imagine always being from this perspective."

"Well, you kind of are usually, this is just a weird shift. I'm sure if I were your height in a world of humans I wouldn't feel very different." He increases speed as he goes so I can adjust accordingly. Once at a normal pace, I just sit back and take in the forest. It's good to be free, but I don't know if leaving Austin is worth it.

As we go, we keep stopping for some reason. I see Austin writing notes on wood slabs and rocks, I assume with the paint marker. I can't make them out from my angle without falling. Even if I could, I notice his head tilt up as he feels me move. "You seem to be a big fan of trying to fall off of me whenever and wherever I hold you," he points out. Huffing, I  sit back, accepting my fate of never knowing what the notes entail.