Taking care of a human-sized fairy is not as easy as one might assume, definitely more of a challenge than a tiny fairy, which is easy to hide, which a person can whisk out of sight at a moment’s notice and put in one’s pocket. It’s kind of hard to hide a full-sized girl. Especially one that’s easily excitable and one that doesn’t know how to behave herself.
I woke up ahead of the fairy that first morning after taking her home again, only now in human form, and I leaped out of bed and looked to the closet, worried it had all been a dream, my only thought to check and make sure she was still safe. I half expected she would be gone again. So I dressed quickly and jerked open the closet door. I didn’t even knock. Much to my relief, she was there, curled up in a tight little ball, sleeping on the floor snuggled in a nest of blankets, one draped over her delicate, but now very large form. She was still wearing the black gothic clothes she’d been given by Winter, all but the combat boots, which were the first thing she’d kicked off last night when we got home and up to my room.
Funny, when she was tiny it was easy to think of her as my fairy; not like a pet, but still like something that belonged to me. Now that she’s full grown girl size, I can’t think of her that way anymore. She’s like a real person now.
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