Through the small vines ascending Emily's brick wall, Derek climbed. No matter what size he was now, that upper body training wasn't going to waste. The stems and leaves that he could once easily crush in his palm now barely sagged beneath his weight.

"Don't look down now, Derek..." He grit his teeth, and made a leap to the windowsill. A successful landing, though his legs ached a bit.

Only a bit of dust on the glass - which someone Emily's scale probably couldn't make out. She was inside, pacing, rubbing the blonde strands around her temples, taking quick swigs from a too-large teacup. This was no coincidence. She did her best writing in this second-floor room, at 4:00. The minuscule man had timed his arrival so that he'd be up there by the time she entered the room. Thanks to a few falls, it was 4:38 now; but he could still get her attention by tapping the glass a bit.

Emily lifted her head. "Derry?" She covered her mouth in shame and shock, as if she'd just let a secret slip. With hasty, fast steps, she opened the window - and closed it right behind as he came in, bringing a small gust of fresh air with her. Her heart beat quickly as she held him near it. "You really shouldn't be out of your safe zone. We could both get arrested."

The shrinkee brushed his smooth, dark hair. "Pfft, I already squeezed by an inspector on the way here. If anyone comes in, I'll hide in your jugs."

Her eyebrows furrowed. "You're a sleaze, Derry." She sighed loudly, patting his back. "You have no idea how much I missed that."

"Yeah, same, Em." Out of her hold, he sat comfortably on her desk, right by the keyboard - with bulging keys that he could stand on with two feet. "Whatcha been working on, genius? Bet you've had a lot more time to write without me bugging you all the time."

When the writer sat, the seat buckled under her immense weight. "I've... I've really been lost. I wanna write about what's going on..."

"The bug." He wasn't asking - he was stating it as a fact. The virus was on both their minds. It was bound to come up eventually, no matter what people were talking about it.

Emily nodded. "It's such a pain. If I write about the shrinking disease now, it's gonna seem sensationalist. Like I'm just milking a crisis for fame. A crisis that's not about me."

He moved a bit, getting a panorama view of her downturned face. "But if you don't, then it'll seem behind the times. It'll seem like you're ignoring us. Real condundrum, huh?"

"It's going to age really poorly... when this is all over." The tea was doing nothing for the bags under her blue eyes.

A bit of a pause while they both thought. "When" it was over - that was an optimistic look at the situation. Finally, Derek coughed. "You could do something allegorical. Like writing about a medieval plague."

She shook her head, laughing dryly. "Look at me. I'm whining about writer's block, while my boyfriend's been living mouse-sized for over a month now." A sharp exhale through her teeth, slightly ruffling Derek's fancy hair. "Talk about selfish."

With his eyes drifting to her twitching fingers, her love shrugged. "Eh, it's not bad. The first week was shit. But then the men's shelters got food. Running water. Walls to keep us safe from bugs and high heels. And they say that, with how nanomachines were progressing before the big shrink, we'll be able to... How did they put it?... 'Talk to our moms, sisters, and daughters again'. Pretty dang soon, at least." Even if he kept smiling, it looked a lot more forced. "Last night, I... I actually slept real well."

For the first time in a while, Emily smiled. "Well, you made it here in one piece. That's worth celebrating. If there's anything you need..."

"You, Em. I really miss you." Derek's grin matched hers in size. "I can live this size forever, I can live with my friends shrinking, but I can't live without hugging you again." He stepped onto her palm, brushing his stubbly face into the soft skin.

In response, she caressed him. A long, tearful, intimate caress. Her bosom filled his vision, all his senses, smothering him in warmth and affection. Derek's arms spread out, accepting her fully.

Their hearts pounded together.

They breathed as one.

Until his breaths stopped.

"...Derry..." Emily shook him. No response.

"...Der...no, oh my fucking..." When her hands left, the man's limbs flopped loosely - some of them twisted back at uncomfortable angles. Derek had been suffocated.

Emily placed him on the desk, and slammed her head down with it. Her fingers struggled to dial the emergency number on her phone. Her tears crashed around his tiny clothes.

His eyes were shut. His face was blue - but locked in the same peaceful, calm smile.