I Keep Wanting to Act Spoiled
"I keep wanting to act spoiled. I want to cry, I want to throw a tantrum."
She wriggled closer. Elma burrowed into the sleeping bag. Thud. A small, hefty weight settled against me. Warmer than a human's—dwarf body heat. "Ughhh, so warmmm…."
Elma's bare skin stuck to mine. Chewy, soft flesh. Her heavy breasts pressed firmly against my solar plexus. A scent wafted up from her—damp forest after rain. Nutty aroma. Even her sweat smelled sweet.
"This is really nice. Good call only packing one sleeping bag."
"I knew you did it on purpose."
"Ah, busted?"
Elma rested her chin on my chest and grinned ear to ear.
"What if I did? You're already in here."
"Nothing. I'll just stay like this."
I wrapped my arms around her slender waist. Stroked her smooth back. Pat-pat. Gave her plump butt a tap.
"Hyat?!"
Her waist twitched with every touch. Springy and firm. A perfect, dense handful.
"Elma's ass is the absolute best."
"Pervert hubby."
But she pressed it even closer, like she was making it easier to touch. Her small, callused hands roamed my chest. Slow strokes. They lingered near my heart, then paused. Thump, thump. As if feeling the beat.
"Hubby's heartbeat. It's so strong."
Where our skin met, a fuzzy warmth bloomed. Our own little greenhouse.
Smack. I leaned down and kissed her forehead. She tilted her head up and planted one under my jaw. Our body heat spoke without words. We savored each other's skin for a long while.
===================================
How much time passed? In the drowsy air, as her hands slowed…
"Hey, hubby."
A tiny voice from my arms. Different from her usual whining—calm, almost misty.
"Yeah, Elma?"
"…Thanks."
"Out of nowhere? You're the one who dragged me on this trip."
She shook her head, bumping her forehead against my chest. She hesitated, then continued.
"No. For everything."
Her little finger toyed with my collarbone.
"I've always had it rough. Since way back."
"…"
"'Cause I'm small. A freak. I hated being looked down on, it scared me. So I stood on my tiptoes, acted all high and mighty, threw tantrums to get by."
A flat confession. Heavy with trapped years.
"But I couldn't tell anyone."
Her breath trembled faintly.
"That it hurt. That it sucked. That I was scared. I just wanted to wail out loud once. But there was nowhere to do it. I was afraid I'd really get treated like trash if anyone found out."
I recalled her face during the elders' meeting. Enduring the insults. She'd toughed it out her whole life like that.
"So I kept shoving it down, holding it in…"
Swoosh. Elma looked up. Her eyes were glassy.
"Ever since you became my husband."
Her small hands cupped my cheeks. Rough calluses, yet so warm.
"I keep wanting to act spoiled. I want to cry, I want to throw a tantrum."
"…"
Yeah. Lately, Elma's moods had been all over the place. Crying at the drop of a hat, clinging, anxious. After the meeting, sobbing till she could barely breathe. Decades of bottled-up pain exploding at once.
"You listen to me. You see my flaws and still call me pretty. You're the first to hold me like this."
Drop. A tear fell, hot on my chest.
"Guess I ended up spilling it all without thinking."
Elma smiled—a sad, beautiful smile.
"I must've been exhausting, huh?"
"…"
"Crying all the time, being a brat, whining like a kid. You must be worn out dealing with my moods."
"Elma."
"Sorry. I'm such a childish, selfish dwarf. I like you too much, so I keep leaning on you…"
Anxious tone. Peeking to see if I'd had enough.
"…"
I swallowed a silent sigh. I'd heard something like this before. When someone trapped in long depression finally reaches safety, it's not 'peace' that comes first. It's an 'explosion.' Intense emotions, clinginess.
Elma's separation anxiety, breakdowns, need for affection. She was healing.
Screaming in my arms, in that tiny body. How scary and lonely it must've been. My heart ached. But she was endlessly lovable. And proud.
I was healing her.
I reached out, cradled the back of her head, pulled her face to my heart.
"No."
I packed my voice with sincerity.
"I'm the grateful one."
"Nng…"
"What do I have to complain about? Having such a pretty, cute wife crying in my arms—it's pure bliss."
Her body jolted at my words.
"Cry all you want. Lean all you want. I want to be the one you need."
Forehead, eyes, cheeks. Kisses in order. Smack, smack, smack. Finally, on the bridge of her nose, freckles scattered. Smack.
"So no more 'sorry.' From now on, cry, whine, get mad—do whatever. I'll take it all."
"Hubby… hic."
Tears finally burst.
"Waaah… Hubby…!"
She clung tight to my neck.
"I love you so much… Really, really love you…"
"I love you too. You're the prettiest in the world, my Elma."
"Yeah… sob, I'm pretty, hubby says so…"
My little professor, trapped in a cage of praise. Under the barrage of comfort, Elma sobbed and burrowed deeper.
We held each other like that all night. In the greenhouse with my small, wounded queen.
================================
Morning.
Rustle. The little bundle in my arms squirmed.
"Ughhh…"
A sleepy groan. I looked down. A small head peeked from the sleeping bag. A mess. Her pale barley twin tails were like a bird's nest. From crying herself out all night.
Eyes puffy. But so damn cute.
I gently brushed her bangs aside. Swoosh. Almond eyes blinked open slowly. Unfocused at first, then they found me and curved into a grin.
"Awake?"
"Yeah… Hubbyyy…"
Voice thick with sleep. She rubbed her cheek on my chest, then pursed her lips.
"Morning kiss…"
"Right after waking up?"
"Hurryyy…"
Her tiny hands patted my chest impatiently. I stole a light peck on those pouted lips. Smack.
"Nng…"
Not enough, apparently. She threw her short arms around my neck. Parted her lips, slipped her tongue in. Squelch. Thick morning kiss. Saliva mixed. Bare skin rubbed, heat rising.
"Haa…"
Lips parted. Elma looked up, cheeks flushed pink.
"Sleep well?"
"Like a rock, thanks to you."
"Hehe. Good."
Last night's gloom? Gone. Her face was clear, refreshed. Worth coming here.
"Alright, captain. Time to get up. Exploration awaits."
"Yeah! Let's hustle today too!"
Elma kicked off the sleeping bag and sprang up. Pale nude body. Stretching boldly. Breasts jiggled, chewy butt wiggled.
==========================
Breakfast was simple ramen. Elma polished off three packs solo. First meal of her five-a-day. Bellies full, we dove back into exploration.
Clang! Clank!
Elma hammered the wall excitedly.
"Look at this vein bend! Something's gotta be here!"
Confident voice. Dwarf instinct for ores kicking in? She even sniffed.
"Whoa! Found it!"
She plopped down. Amid debris, she yanked out a stone.
"What is it?"
"See!"
Proudly held out. A dull stone with faint blue glow.
"Mana stone?"
"Yup! Low-grade, but this color's pretty rare!"
"Whoa, you're amazing. I thought it was just a rock."
"This is my specialty!"
Elma puffed her chest. Then dug something out—a chisel and tiny hammer. She'd packed these too?
Squatting, she set the stone down and got to work.
Crackle! Clang! Sparks flew from her fingertips. Tools flew. Outer layer peeled. Shape emerged.
How long? "Phew! Done!"
She wiped sweat, turned beaming. Hands behind back.
"Gimme your hand, hubby."
"Huh?"
"Hurry. Left ring finger."
I held out my hand. She grasped my finger gently. Slid on the hidden object.
"…"
A small, round stone ring. From the mana stone she'd just carved.
"A ring?"
She haughtily raised her chin, cheeks pink.
"A dwarf wife handcrafts this talisman for her husband."
"Talisman?"
"Yup. Rock infused with wife's mana. Wear it for lifelong health—that's the tradition."
She squeezed my finger, stern face.
"Don't ever take it off. Or I'll smash your legs."
"Got it. On forever."
I gazed at it. Honestly? Crude. Bumpy surface. Lopsided circle. Great with machines, zero talent for fine crafting.
She noticed, shoulders slumping. Ears red as thermometers.
"…Weird?"
"No."
"I know you're lying. It's super sloppy."
Head down, she kicked the dirt.
"Truth is, I suck at crafting like other dwarves…"
"…"
"Sorry. Lemme make you a proper machine one instea—"
I moved before she finished. Hands under her armpits. Whoosh.
"Eek?!"
Her tiny body lifted. Right to chest height. Heavy, chewy weight filled my arms.
I kissed the ring. Smack.
"Prettiest ring in the world."
"H-Hubby?"
Almond eyes shook. I turned, kissed her cheek. Smack.
"Thank you so much."
Other cheek. Smack.
"Thinking of these hands hammering it out for me."
Bridge of nose. Smack, smack, smack.
"So cute it's making me tear up."
"Haaah…"
Praise and kisses raining. Her face ripened red. Shy-happy squeal.
"Eek! So embarrassing!"
Hands over face. Short legs kicking air. Flail flail. Tiny boots danced.
"Put me down! You're teasing!"
"Not teasing. 'Cause I love you."
I even kissed those covering hands.