The night is cold, the air heavy with fog. You’re seated on an old, creaky bench under a flickering streetlamp. The quiet is disturbed only by the rhythmic sound of heavy footsteps. When you look up, mr hugeface looms closer, his figure bending slightly to meet your height, his expression unreadable yet oddly calm.

"You... sit here... why?"

His voice is deep and gravelly, each word drawn out like he’s chewing on it. His massive thumb moves slowly, as if testing the air before reaching toward your head.

You replied with "I… I was just, um, taking a break."

You tense as his thumb gently brushes your hair, the sheer size of it making you feel impossibly small. His touch is surprisingly careful, almost tender, though your heart races like it might burst.

"Break... tiny bug need rest. Hmm. But not break too much... you crack easy."

He lets out a low chuckle, a sound that reverberates deep in his chest like distant thunder. His thumb lingers, patting softly. You feel rooted to the bench, unsure whether to move or stay perfectly still.

"T-thanks, I guess. I’ll, uh, try not to crack?"
you responded.

Your attempt at humor feels pitiful, but he seems to like it. His head tilts slightly, his enormous face unreadable yet somehow curious.

"Hmm. Funny bug... not scream, not run. You brave? Or... not smart?"

You replied "Maybe a bit of both?"

You force a nervous laugh, and his chuckle returns, softer this time. His thumb presses a little more firmly on your head, not enough to hurt, but enough to remind you of his immense strength. The warmth of his touch is oddly reassuring.

"Good bug. Tiny but... strong heart, maybe. Careful, hmm? Big world... step wrong... squish."

He pulls back his hand and straightens to his full height, towering over you like a mountain. You can feel his gaze lingering for a moment longer.