Imagine a dude who is a metalhead blasting looooud music in his room while he hangs out and stuff. Then, as a song ends and before the next begins, he hears what sounds like quiet crying. He stops the music and the crying continues for just a moment then is stifled. But he feels like someone is in his room.

He looks in all the obvious places for someone to hide: under his bed, in his closet, even in the hallway just outside his door. The crying was too quiet to be from someone in his room, but the further he strays from one specific corner, the fainter it gets. He turns back around, pushing his long black hair out of his eyes, and freezes.

There, in the corner, is a trembling, crying, clearly frightened little person. Images flash through his mind of him or one of his roommates accidentally stepping on them, so he rushes over, feet booming steadily closer to the tiny, making them exceedingly more and more terrified with each step. They turn to dart off just as he reaches them, finally free of the paralysis that fear had laid on them.

However, this is just to be cut off by a large, black, leather boot as the man quickly sets a foot down to block them off. He reaches down and grabs them, hearing them scream as his fingers connect with their body and wrap around them.

They’re so small that when he wraps his fingers up, they disappear into his fist. They must be just over an inch tall. He feels their small body trembling in his fist and frowns sadly. He walks over to his bed and sits on the floor in front of it, setting the frightened tiny on the bed. His face is level with their shivering body.

He asks if they’re okay, voice encompassing them and causing them to cringe and scoot back away from him. He sighs softly and scoots away from the bed, giving them space for a moment. It seems to give the tiny some respite.

After a moment he speaks again, but stops himself as he sees that it’s just upsetting them again. But then he inhales deeply and slowly reaches forward, thinking that if they see how gentle he is that they won’t be afraid of him as much.

Their eyes widen as his finger approaches and they flinch when he touches the top of their head, but then they pause. He gently slides his finger from the top of their head, softly down their back, and then repeats. Although they aren’t fond of the idea of being pet, it’s certainly better than all the awful things they assumed he would do to them. They look up at him and see him smile softly. They begin to calm down a little more, much to his delight.

He begins to speak again though, which causes them to tremble once more, but when he stops talking mid sentence, they gulp and shakily tell him that its okay, and to continue.