My Brob GF Ch 34: The Mission To Climb Upwards, The Things To Be Said!

(Ethan) 

Everything was moving. Violently.

Up. Down. Side to side. The world was shaking like I was strapped to the wing of a crashing plane.

I should've been dead by now. Like, multiple times over.

I should've been flattened the moment my body slammed into Harper's foot—or at least flung somewhere into the sweaty void of her shoe, only to suffocate in the humid darkness. But, somehow, I was still here.

And it was all thanks to the most disgusting, yet unexpectedly life-saving thing imaginable: Harper's sweat.

Yep.

Her sweat was basically acting like glue, keeping me stuck to her foot instead of being ragdolled into oblivion. It was gross—oh god, it was so gross—but necessary.

That being said, I really needed to get out of here before things got worse.

I could already feel the temperature rising, the air growing heavier. Every second that passed, the humidity increased. It was only a matter of time before my already sweat-soaked body was completely drenched, and then I'd be dealing with an even bigger problem—trying to climb while feeling like I was swimming through syrup.

"I have to start climbing," I muttered to myself, pushing against the sweat that clung to my skin. Luckily, there wasn't too much of it yet, which meant I could still move. For now.

I tilted my head back, peering up at the massive, shifting landscape that was Harper's foot. My exit wasn't too far. Just needed to climb my way up past the arch, toward the top of her shoe, and somehow squeeze my way out.

Easy, right?

Yeah, sure.

"Okay," I took a deep breath. "Let's do this."

I reached for the nearest ridge of skin—a tiny crease in Harper's flesh that, to me, was like a ledge on a rock wall. Digging my fingers into it, I pulled myself up, my feet scrambling against the slick surface of her foot.

It was slow going. Every step was a battle against gravity and sweat. My hands were already slippery, and the more I climbed, the more I realized just how much heat was radiating off of Harper's skin.

Holy crap, she's a furnace.

I pressed on, trying to ignore how each step made my entire body feel like it was sticking to her. The last thing I needed was to think too hard about the fact that I was literally climbing my girlfriend's foot, battling against the very sweat that she was unknowingly producing.

I am never telling her about this.

Ever.

If I somehow made it out of here in one piece, this would go unspoken for the rest of my life.

No one needed to know.

***

(Harper) 

My heart was pounding. Not from fear—from excitement.

Trading blows with Darcy was always a rush. She was the only person who could keep up with me, the only one who could push me past my limits. Our fights were fast, brutal, and if we didn't know each other so well, they'd probably be lethal.

But this time was different.

She was holding back.

Not in strength—emotionally. Something was off. She wasn't fighting like she usually did.

Which meant I was gonna have to force it out of her.

"Are you gonna tell me what you and Ethan talked about or what?" I demanded, launching a kick straight toward her stomach.

Darcy caught my leg with ease, twisting her body and hurling me backward. I let the momentum carry me, flipping onto my hands before springing back to my feet.

She didn't answer.

Didn't even react.

Her fists stayed up, eyes locked on me as she rushed forward, closing the distance between us.

And then she spoke.

"Do you really think this is natural?" she asked, right before her first punch flew toward my face.

I swayed back, dodging it by a hair.

"You think a relationship like this can actually last?" Another punch. Another dodge.

Her fists blurred in my vision, each strike faster than the last.

Right. Left. Left. Right.

I twisted and weaved, ducking and leaning, my heartbeat syncing with the rapid rhythm of our fight.

But I said nothing.

Because I already knew where this was going.

Darcy wasn't just asking me. She was testing me.

She was forcing me to confront the doubts she already knew I had.

"I know you have a good heart, Harper," she continued, barely giving me time to breathe between attacks. "I know you were raised by Lillis, and maybe that's why you think this is okay. But it doesn't change reality. It doesn't change the fact that Ethan is the size of a speck of dust to us."

Her words were sharp. Cutting.

And they almost hurt worse than her punches.

Darcy feinted a right hook—then snapped her leg up, aiming a brutal kick straight for my face.

I caught it.

One hand.

Didn't even budge.

A second passed.

Then another.

I tightened my grip around her ankle, feeling the tension in her muscles. Holding back? Not anymore.

"Is that what you believe?" I asked, my voice low.

I pushed her leg away, forcing her to regain her balance as she took a step back.

Darcy exhaled sharply, brushing a strand of hair from her face.

"You wanna know what I said to your little Lilli?" she asked, her tone finally betraying a hint of emotion.

I clenched my jaw.

"I told him I'd hurt him if he hurt you," she admitted. "Even though we both know that's exactly where this is headed."

Darcy didn't say anything for a while.

She just stood there, rolling her shoulders, flexing her fists. Probably thinking of another argument. Probably trying to find another way to get under my skin.

But I was done dodging.

"You know what Ethan's job is, right?" I asked, rolling my neck as I bounced on my toes.

Darcy furrowed her brows. "What?"

"He's a Terrorist Prevention Analyst, First Class."

She froze.

I saw the recognition hit immediately. Her hands actually dropped slightly from their guard position.

Yeah. She knew exactly what that meant.

"You serious?" she asked, tilting her head.

I smirked. "Dead serious."

That job was a desk job. But it still wasn't some cushy analyst position where he sat in an office making reports. That title meant Ethan was on the front lines when it came to Terrorism prevention. It meant he had faced the worst of humanity in all its forms and was still standing.

I stepped forward, pressing the advantage.

"Ethan is small. Lillis are fragile. I get that. But you know what? That doesn't mean a damn thing to me," I said, my voice low, steady.

Darcy didn't move.

Didn't even blink.

"You remember Astoria?" I asked, tilting my head. "That desert city?"

"Of course."

"Good. Because I was there."

Darcy's eyes widened.

"I went to help Ethan when I found out he was in trouble," I continued, my tone sharpening. "And do you know what I saw?"

Silence.

"I saw people die." My fists clenched at the memory. 

Darcy swallowed but didn't interrupt.

"And the worst part? It wasn't even some faceless enemy. It was a Gulliverian terrorist named Silvershade—someone who had made it apart of her mission to kill Ethan."

Darcy exhaled through her nose, her stance faltering slightly.

Yeah. Let that sink in.

"Does that sound like a weak person to you?" I asked, stepping closer.

She said nothing.

Ethan wasn't just some tiny, fragile thing in need of protection. He was a fighter.

And sure, he fought with information. With intelligence. With strategy instead of brute force. But in a world where people like Silvershade existed, that was just as important as any Brob soldier throwing punches.

"His job is only gonna get harder from here," I continued, my voice dropping to something softer. "That's why I invited him here."

Darcy's jaw tightened.

Even she couldn't argue against that.

I took a breath, loosening my shoulders. "Look, even if this relationship doesn't work out, I've already decided—Ethan is my friend. That's not changing. Not because of his size. Not because of anyone's opinion. And definitely not because of you."

Darcy exhaled slowly, rubbing the back of her neck.

Then, finally, she muttered, "Damn it, Harper."

I grinned. "Yeah, yeah, I know. I'm too good of a person."

She rolled her eyes but didn't argue.

I'd take that as a win.