...well, that was the problem. You weren't exactly who you were running to. You stop your foolish dash, shoes making a squeak as you stopped abruptly. It had to have been luck that you woke up in such a safe spot like underneath the table, and you didn't want to waste it before you were sure it was safe to emerge. You lean against the inside of the table leg, observing the world outside.
The gigantic pair of feet were walking past the table now, making noises louder than you could have imagined as they passed. They were perfect feet however, and caught your trained, macrophilic eyes. This was both a nightmare and a dream come true for you combined; you had always wanted to be insect-sized at the feet of a goddess, but in reality this was too close. And in your fantasies death had never been so close.
Fighting back lustful urges to reach out and touch the feet that were within reach, you try to rationalize going out now. After all, you had to get help, that much was insinctual. Here was a passing savior, for all you knew. She could leave at any moment, and your best chance could be forever lost. Your justifications were well put, but deep down you knew something wasn't right.
Then there was the question of how you even got here, so small. A scary possibility that one of the girls at the party had shrunk you in the first place rears its ugly head, but what were the chances of that? Yet what were the chances that a normal-sized man could suddenly shrink to the size of a bug? The titaness passes you by, and you lose sight of her plodding, but it sounds just as loud. She must still be close, then.
A harmless peek from behind the table leg showed you she was still there, but you wish you kenw who it was. Hunching over so that the top of the table wouldn't obstruct your view, you can't help but gasp. The giantess was Bekah, and your own blood was your closest lifeline, right? Dropping to a crouched run, you pass the table leg which was just inches from the side of a couch, ducking behind it. Decisions had to be made.
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