Life is better with you!

A point of view

I wake up feeling every part of my body aching, burning, sore, or broken. I groan and rub my eyes, it's dark. I let my eyes adjust to the dark and I gaze around the room trying to figure out where I am. It's definitely not where I fell asleep. This mattress is not as soft as Sam's breasts.

The mattress is my first clue and since it's my size I must be back in my room. I roll over and reach for the outline of the lamp, fiddling around to find the cord to pull on. The light flicks on and I wince when the warm sun color shines in my face.

I shield my eyes. "Damn."

Now my eyes adjust to the light. It is my room. The dresser and closet opposite of my bed is a dead giveaway. I throw the blankets off and slide my legs out of bed. Thank the gods Samantha put my crutches close so I can use them.

I stare at the crutches thoughtfully. How did she get them in my room? How did she get me in my room? Whatever. It doesn't matter right now. I don't want to think of any more questions. I need is a shower.

I reach over and pull the crutches over and under me. They're situated to fit under my arms without giving me any discomfort.

I hobble around the room, pulling clothes out of the dresser and closet than going to the bathroom and turning on the water. Entering the room is not as easy as I thought.

I accidentally smash my toe against the doorframe. A scream rips through my throat. "Son of a bitch!" And here I thought today would be a good day. "Shit, that hurt."

Blinking back the tears, I check on my smashed toe. It's red and pain pumps through the nerves. What sucks is that it's my only good foot but the pain would have been much worse if it were my broken leg.

Then common sense kicks in now that I'm awake. Why the hell am I trying to take a shower? I can't get my cast wet and I can't step into the tub without screwing something up. What am I supposed to do?

I grit my teeth, turning back around exiting the room just to sit back down on my bed and wait. Maybe Samantha wouldn't mind helping me with a shower or bath. I'm sure she wouldn't.

Again, my patience is tested as I wait for Samantha to wake up. Can I blame her though? Ashley probably kept her up all night not to mention the heart attack I gave her when I ran off. Talk about letting the girl be happy. All I seem to do is hurt her more than help her.

A sigh fills the room and I flop back on my bed. "There has to be something I can do."

Another big thing I need to think about is my own emotions and feelings towards the young giantness. She's sweet, kind, caring, careful, thoughtful, and not to mention downright hot. Cute might fit her personality better though.

I do like her and I have shown more than the basic feelings of friendship, but what can I do to show her that I care for her as much as she cares for me. Again, there is only so much I can do since I'm so small.

Maybe it'd be better for Samantha to fall for someone who can return her feelings in the fullest.

"No," I scold myself. "She's given you her feelings and you share those feelings for her. I mean, I already called her my girlfriend. That was one time so it doesn't count." Am I really talking to myself? "Yes." I groan slapping my forehead. "Idiot."

Why is it so hard being gay? Like, how long does it take for someone figure out if they are gay or not? Do they just kiss someone and say 'hmmm, not gay yet'. I've never been gay, but then again, everyone is gay or not gay. So you're only gay once. Right? Wait, what? On second thought, don't quote me on that.

"Caesar?" A loud whisper fills the air. "Are you awake?"

I grunt sitting up and hobbling over to the window. The window slides open and I poke my head to see Samantha in a baggy shirt and jean shorts that are above mid thigh. "Hey,"