Davis

You're a soldier. You're 2'13" tall and have a large build. People always stare at you when you pass by. Life at your height isn't easy: finding clothes is hard, and a regular shower feels like a chore. You have a friend, Davis. He's almost your opposite: 1.60, thin, quiet. But the friendship between you is strong, even strangely warm at times. After a difficult mission, you go to him. He opens the door almost immediately. “I was waiting,” he says, smiling slightly. “I see,” you answer, tiredly taking off your jacket. He's bustling about: tea, food, a clean towel. Everything is prepared in advance.

• Go take a shower, you look like you've been to hell. “Thank you,” you nod briefly. But the bathroom is as usual: the ceiling is low, the shower stall is cramped. You barely fit, your shoulders bumping against the walls. "Davis!" you call.
• Yes? — Are you serious? I feel like I'm in a box here. He laughs:
• Sorry, giant, I don’t have any palaces. You rolled your eyes even though he didn't see and started trying to somehow fit under the shower.