To the mall! ^_^ Tiny Terry chapter 3 by KoroKoroAi

"We're going to the MALL!"

 

Hazel's announcement came out as a squeal so high-pitched it probably registered in dog frequencies. She clapped her hands together, the sound like thunderclaps in Terry's ears, and bounced on the balls of her feet. The entire vanity shook with each bounce, sending tiny ripples through a puddle of loose shimmer powder near his feet.

 

"The mall," Terry repeated flatly. He was already dreading this. The mall meant crowds of giant teenagers, being jostled in Hazel's purse - or worse - and the constant, looming threat of being mistaken for a lost earring or a piece of trash.

 

"YES!" Hazel grabbed the edges of the vanity and leaned down, bringing her face so close that her breath washed over him in warm, scented waves. Her eyes were enormous, the blue irises like swimming pools, her pupils dilated with excitement. "I need new clothes, Terry-Berry! Like, desperately! My summer wardrobe is so boring and there's this new shop that opened up just for tiny people clothes and I thought maybe we could look at some things for you too?"

 

She reached out and gently poked his body with the tip of her pinky finger, making him stumble backward a step.

 

"I don't need new clothes," he said, trying to sound firm. It came out as a squeak.

 

"Of course you do! All your little outfits are so old and plain." Hazel straightened up and turned toward her closet, her voice taking on a dreamy quality. "I saw the cutest little maid costume online. Like, a real one, with lace and a little apron and everything! It would fit you perfectly, I just know it. You'd look so adorable serving me tea!"

 

"I am not wearing a maid costume."

 

Hazel either didn't hear him or chose not to. She was already pulling open her closet door, the sliding mechanism rumbling like distant thunder. "And we can look at jewelry! Kayla said there's a new accessory store with the cutest hair clips. Oh, and boba! I want mango matcha tea with tapioca. And we have to go to Sephora because I'm almost out of my setting spray, and Mom said I could use her card for some new bras because my old ones don't fit anymore."

 

She said this last part so casually, as if discussing the weather. Terry felt his face heat up.

 

"My boobs just won't stop growing," Hazel continued, pulling hangers from the closet with practiced efficiency. "It's so annoying because I just bought a whole set of DD-cups in the spring but now they're all tight. Kayla says I should be grateful, but she doesn't even wear bras half the time."

 

Terry said nothing. He had learned long ago that commenting on his sisters' bodies, even to agree with their complaints, was a minefield. So he stood very still on the glittery vanity and tried to think about literally anything else.

 

Hazel laid several garments across her bed, a pastel rainbow of fabric that looked like circus tents from Terry's perspective. Then she returned to the vanity and began rummaging through a drawer, pulling out various hair accessories and holding them up to her reflection in the mirror.

 

"We could see a movie too!" she said, clipping a pink plastic heart into her hair. "There's that new animated one that looks so cute. Or maybe a romance? Ooh, or we could just wander around and look at things. That's the best part of the mall, just looking at everything."

 

She caught her reflection and smiled, tilting her head to examine the heart clip. Then she reached for a blue headband with a bow on it and slid it into place, adjusting her wavy blonde hair around it.

 

"Do you like this one?" she asked, turning toward Terry. The headband made her look even younger, even more girlish. "I think it's cute but maybe it's too much with the pink heart? What do you think, Terry-Berry?"

 

She waited, her face expectant, her lips pursed in that way that meant she genuinely wanted his opinion.

 

"The heart is nice," he said. It was easier to just give an answer. "Maybe just the headband though?"

 

Hazel considered this, then removed the heart clip and set it aside. "Yeah, you're right. Simple is better sometimes!" She smiled at him, a warm, genuine smile that made her whole face light up. "You have such good taste, little bro."

 

Then she turned back to her closet, and Terry realized with mounting horror that she was about to change.

 

"Wait," he said. "Wait, Hazel, I’m right here, do you have to-"

 

But she was already peeling off her pajama shirt, the pink unicorn-print fabric lifting over her head in one smooth motion. Terry slammed his hands over his eyes, but it was too late. He had already seen the flash of smooth skin, the curve of her waist, the pale expanse of her stomach. His face burned like a furnace.

 

"You don't have to be weird about it," Hazel said, her voice muffled by fabric. "It's just my body. You've seen me in a swimsuit before."

 

"That's different!" Terry squeaked from behind his hands. "At least warn me next time!"

 

He heard the rustle of fabric, the soft sounds of her dressing. He kept his eyes covered, counting the seconds in his head. One Mississippi. Two Mississippi.

 

"Okay Mr. prude. You can look now," Hazel said finally.

 

Terry lowered his hands. She stood before the full-length mirror on her closet door, and for a moment he forgot to breathe.

 

The dress was light and summery, a soft cream color with a pattern of tiny pink flowers scattered across it. It had puffy short sleeves that gathered at her shoulders and a scoop neckline that dipped low enough to show the swell of her cleavage. A pink satin sash cinched at her waist, emphasizing it against the flare of her hips. The skirt fell just above her knees, swishing as she twisted around, waiting for his opinion.

 

But what Terry couldn't stop staring at was the bra. It was bright pink, embroidered with little roses, and far too visible through the light fabric of the dress. The neck of the dress was so wide that her bra straps were right out in the open. The cups were clearly outlined against the fabric, the little bow between her breasts sitting right there like a target.

 

"H-Hazel," he said, his voice coming out strangled. "Your b-bra. You can see it."

 

She looked down at her chest, then back at the mirror, tilting her head. "I know! That's the point. It's a whole look, Terry-Berry. All the girls wear their bras under sheer stuff now. It's trendy."

 

She smoothed her hands down the front of the dress, and Terry watched the fabric settle over her curves. The dress clung to her in a way that seemed almost engineered to draw attention. When she turned sideways to examine her profile, the way the fabric stretched across her chest made his mouth go dry.

 

"The sash is so cute," she said, adjusting it. "Do you think I should tie it in the front or the back?"

 

She turned to face him, and the motion made everything on her bounce. Not dramatically, but enough. Enough that Terry had to look away, his face burning.

 

"Front is fine," he managed.

 

Hazel beamed and began fussing with the bow. She was close enough to the vanity now that Terry could smell her lotion again, something sweet and floral that made his head spin. She hummed as she worked, her fingers deftly looping the pink satin into an elaborate bow that sat just above her hip bone.

 

"I love this dress so much," she said, almost to herself. "It's my favorite. It makes me feel so pretty."

 

"It's nice," Terry said, because what else could he say? It was more than nice. It was the kind of dress that made you notice things. The kind of dress that made men stare and women jealous. The kind of dress that his sister had no business wearing in front of him, not that she would ever see it that way.

 

Hazel turned back to the mirror and struck a pose, one hand on her hip, the other playing with her hair. "You think so? You really like it?"

 

"I already said it's nice."

 

She laughed, a light, tinkling sound. "You're so funny when you get all flustered. It's okay to say your sister looks pretty, Terry-Prude. It's not weird. It would be nice of you, for once."

 

She twirled, and the skirt of her dress flared out around her thighs. Terry caught a glimpse of her legs, smooth and pale, and looked away again. He was trapped on this vanity with nowhere to go, nothing to do but wait for her to finish dressing and hopefully put him somewhere safe.

 

Hazel bounced on her heels, checking her reflection from different angles. The motion sent a wave of jiggling through her chest that Terry tried very, very hard not to notice. He tried instead to focus on a speck of glitter on the vanity in front of him. He’d helped her glitter-glue the vanity years ago, when they were both much younger. He had been covered from head to toe in glitter-glue by the end of it.

 

"I'm thinking of getting some new makeup too," Hazel said, running her fingers through her hair. "My lip gloss is almost gone and I want to try that new tinted moisturizer everyone's talking about. And maybe some bath bombs! Oh, and we have to get food at the food court. The pretzel place has those cinnamon sugar ones that are so good."

 

She bent down to rummage under her bed, and Terry got an unavoidable view of her backside straining against the thin fabric of her dress. The dress was so tight and sheer that he could even see the hem of her underwear, pink and lacy like the bra. He squeezed his eyes shut.

 

"Do you want anything specific to eat?" she asked, her voice muffled. "I know you can't eat much but maybe we can get you a little piece of pretzel? Or some rice from the Japanese place?"

 

"Whatever you want is fine," Terry said, his eyes still closed.

 

He heard her stand up, heard the soft thump of her footsteps as she moved around the room. "Okay, shoes. Shoes shoes shoes."

 

The floorboards creaked. He opened his eyes just in time to see her slip her feet into a pair of matching pumps, the same cream color as her dress, with a modest heel that made her legs look even longer. She wiggled her toes, adjusting the fit, then stood and took a few practice steps.

 

"Perfect!" she declared. "Okay, I think I'm ready. Where's my purse?"

 

She looked around the room, her eyes scanning her desk, her bed, her nightstand. Her brow furrowed. "I swear I left it right here..."

 

Terry watched her search, grateful for the brief respite from being the center of her attention. She checked under her pillow, in her closet, even inside her hamper. Her expression grew more and more confused.

 

"That's so weird," she muttered. "I had it yesterday..."

 

Then her face cleared. "Oh! Kayla borrowed it. She said she needed it for something. Ugh, she probably still has it."

 

She stood in the middle of her room, tapping her chin with one manicured finger. "Well, that's fine. I don't need a whole purse anyway. I'll just take Mom's credit card and put it somewhere safe."

 

She crossed to her nightstand and picked up a small rectangle of plastic, holding it up to examine it. Their mom's credit card, which mom loaned her for the occasion, like usual. It glinted in the light.

 

"Perfect!" Hazel chirped. "Now where to put it..."

 

She looked down at her dress, at the lack of pockets, at the thin fabric that wouldn't hold anything heavier than a tissue. She considered her options for a moment, then smiled.

 

Terry watched in mounting horror as she nonchalantly tucked the credit card into the left cup of her bra. He watched her fingers slide the plastic down, watched it disappear against her skin, watched her adjust the cup to make sure it was secure.

 

"There," she said, patting her chest. "Safe and sound."

 

She turned back to the vanity, and her eyes landed on Terry with renewed intensity. "Okay, little bro. Time to go!"

 

She scooped him up before he could react. Her fingers were warm, her grip gentle but absolute. The world spun as she lifted him, bringing him up to face level. Her face loomed huge and beautiful, her smile bright enough to light up a room.

 

"I'm so excited!" she squealed. "We're gonna have the best day ever!"

 

She pressed him against her chest in a hug, and Terry found himself crushed between her fingers and the soft, warm fabric of her dress. He could feel the heat of her skin through the thin material, could smell the floral lotion she wore, could feel the steady thump of her heartbeat. The edge of the credit card pressed against his side.

 

When she finally pulled him back, she was looking at him with an expression of pure, uncomplicated joy. "You're going to look so cute in your little outfits. I can't wait to pick things out for you."

 

"Hazel," he tried, "I really don't need-"

 

But she was already moving, tucking him carefully into the space between her breasts. Her cleavage was warm and soft, the fabric of her dress pressing against him on all sides. He was wedged in tight, surrounded by her warmth.

 

"Comfy?" she asked, looking down at him. Her voice was muffled, but he could still hear the smile in it.

 

He couldn't answer. His face was pressed against the soft swell of her skin, his entire body surrounded by her. Every breath he struggled to take was filled with her scent. Every movement she made shifted the pressure around him. He should have expected this. Of course she’d put him in here.

 

"I'll take that as a yes!" Hazel grabbed her keys from the nightstand, shoved them in her other bra cup, and patted herself. Left cup: credit card. Right cup: keys. Center of the chest: Terry-Berry. She giggled and headed for the door. "Let's go!"

 

She bounded down the stairs, and each step sent a jolt through Terry's tiny body. The world was a blur of motion, her heartbeat and the dull thumping of her bouncing breasts a steady drum against his ear. He could hear her humming, some pop song he vaguely recognized, her voice light and happy.

 

"Bye Mom!" she called as she passed the kitchen. "Taking Terry to the mall! Be back later!"

 

"Have fun!" Jenna's voice echoed from somewhere behind them. "Be safe with your brother!"

 

"I will!"

 

The front door opened, letting in a flood of sunlight and warm summer air. The car door opened with a creak, and Hazel slid into the driver's seat. The seatbelt clicked, the engine started with a rumble that vibrated through Terry's bones, and then they were moving.

 

Hazel's hand came up to pat her chest, right over where Terry was hidden. Her fingers pressed down gently, and he felt the pressure all around him, her warmth, her closeness.

 

"So excited!" she sang, pulling out of the driveway. "This is gonna be the best day! Thanks for coming with me, big bro!"

 

Terry lay trapped between her breasts, feeling her heartbeat, her breathing, her voice vibrating through him every time she hummed along with the radio. He could see nothing, only the faint light filtering through the pink fabric of her bra and the cream fabric of her dress. He could feel everything.

 

The car hummed beneath them, carrying them toward the mall, toward whatever Hazel had planned. Terry closed his eyes and tried not to think about maid costumes, about lace aprons, about how his sister was driving him to the mall tucked into her cleavage, like he was no different than her credit card or her keys.

 

He tried very hard not to think about any of it.

 

The car merged onto the main road, and Hazel's singing grew louder, more confident. Her chest rose and fell with each breath, and Terry rose and fell with it, pressed safe and warm and completely trapped.

 

Today was going to be a very long day.