"Nᴇᴀʀʟʏ ᴀʟʟ ᴍᴇɴ ᴄᴀɴ sᴛᴀɴᴅ ᴀᴅᴠᴇʀsɪᴛʏ, ʙᴜᴛ ɪғ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡᴀɴᴛ ᴛᴏ ᴛᴇsᴛ ᴀ ᴍᴀɴ's ᴄʜᴀʀᴀᴄᴛᴇʀ, ɢɪᴠᴇ ʜɪᴍ ᴘᴏᴡᴇʀ." ― Aʙʀᴀʜᴀᴍ Lɪɴᴄᴏʟɴ
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When you are 5 inches tall, who can you trust?
Bᴇɴɴᴇᴛᴛ ᴍɪɢʜᴛ mean her no harm when he discovers a tiny young woman in his...
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Martin was floating on clouds of wamth and softness. He was dimly aware of fabric all over his skin, and the smell of freshly washed linen and soap, and the pleasant, musky scent of someone elses body lingering at the edges.
Sam, he thought, dimly.
Memories floated past Martin. A face, hands, a chest..
Strong almost harsh features, a look that could pearce and chill like a hailstorm during winter, yet so beautiful - almost regal..
And then the way those icy, hard lines could transform, into something amazing, kind and gentle and warm and utterly beautiful - making Martin feel like he was witnessing a photographer's wet deam of a summer-sunrise - when Sam smiled.
After all he had been through, that simple look of kindness, that gentleness, drew Martin to it, like a moth to light, making him want to dissolve into Sam, and exist in a world where there were no more thoughts, where there was nothing at all, but the kindness and gentleness of that smile, and nothing unpleasant could ever enter.
Sam had shown so much care, his immense hands had held Martin so gently..
He wanted so much for this to be true..
He craved kindness, and care, and love, like a lost child.
![A Giant's Hands [ON HOLD]](https://img.wattpad.com/cover/78933467-64-k973939.jpg)