Chapter Text
Clover heard the music blasting from the kitchen as they were locking the door. Mentally, they sighed. Again?, they thought. Quietly, they took off their shoes, before creeping towards the kitchen. Near the entrance, Clover could see the tiny unabashedly dancing his heart out to 19-2000 by Gorillaz, which was playing on the iPad they left open on the counter. Next to the counter was a bowl of small pretzels and M&Ms, some of which they could see in the tiny’s backpack laid up against the side of their iPad.
This was the not the first time Clover had seen the tiny, and this won’t be the first time Clover has to turn a blind eye to his complete and utter dumbassery.
It had started when Clover had moved in 6 months earlier, fresh out of college and looking for a job. They were mindlessly scrolling through the pages of LinkedIn when, out if the corner of their eye, they spotted him. He was small, couldn’t have been much larger than 3 inches. Long pale hair stark against bronze skin, the small man wore clothes that looked shockingly bespoke. On his hip was a needle for sowing, connected to some coiled yarn.
Tied to his back was a singular strawberry, and he was moving like an honest to god cartoon thief. Overly dramatized strides on his tiptoes, the tiny would every now and then look back at Clover to see if he has been spotted. Clover, having only seen him in the corner of his eye, wisely didn’t react as they watched the scientifically impossible being unstealthily make his way towards to most blatantly obvious hole in the living room wall.
Because of his tiptoeing, it was 5 more agonizing minutes before he made it to the hole, and when the tiny disappeared, Clover let go of a breath they didn’t realize they were holding.
Fast forward to the present, and Clover was still standing out in the open watching the tiny man dance…..quite well actually. His eyes were closed, and the music was loud, so that explains why they weren’t spotted yet. By now, Clover thinks he knows the tiny a little bit better, and the working theory his work-addled mind could come up with was that the tiny must have thought they coming home at the usual time. Making their way back to the front door, Clover quietly opened it, whispered an apology to their neighbors, and slammed the front door as loud as they could.
They swear they could hear the tiny’s gasp from the other side of the apartment. Just to be absolutely certain, Clover loudly exclaimed: “AH! How nice it is, to be home! Early! On account of my boss giving me slack!” They picked up their shoes, before dropping the left, then the right. The music suddenly stopped, and Clover heard several loud clangs before a sudden skittering across linoleum flooring, and then nothing. They sighed outwardly, not out of relief but of exasperation.
Making their way to the kitchen, they could see the path of chaos the tiny had taken. Several drawers were open, including a fork handle dangling off the side, which had a piece of yarn tied to it. The yarn went all the way down to the floor, where Clover saw a trail of half-eaten mini pretzels and M&Ms trail to a small mouse-hole that looked too clean cut to have been made by a creature of lesser intelligence. “He won’t eat me out of house and home, but I’m certainly losing my security deposit,” Clover whispered to themself.
They shed pieces of their uniform as they made their way to the bedroom, before flopping onto the bed. They know they’ll have to clean up later, but perhaps the tiny will come back and grab the snacks at least. For now, Clover was tired. They fell into a deep slumber, dreaming of pale hair and M&Ms the size of a watermelon.