Avaric hummed, something he rarely did. Most of the notes would come as breathy attempts, since he had just climbed the stairs from the kitchen, then to the throne room – plus, he was not the singer. He froze upon opening the door, spotting Glinda on her desk, swinging her legs while singing his song.
"Evening." She said, smiling. Avaric, unsure of whether he should be soothed or alarmed by her attitude, nodded his head.
"Good evening." He managed without a stutter for once. "Uhm…" it returned, shaking his voice, "are you… waiting for me?" He almost did not dare to utter his thoughts. To both his dismay and bliss – he again could hardly decide – the blonde nodded. Avaric's heart skipped a beat. He inhaled deeper than necessary, but at least it calmed his heart. Mostly.
Jumping down from the desk, Glinda walked into her bathroom, through to her bedroom. Taking another breath, Avaric followed. He frowned when entering, not remembering to have left the law book in her room after their last late-night-studies.
His jaw almost dropped alongside her robe, which the young witch slid down her shoulders, hanging it on the door she closed behind him. Gulping, Avaric forced himself not to stare, his mind demanding to know what she was wearing. He knew it; yet, it was always thrilling to look, even though the blonde mostly wore her nightgown with or without the fluffy coating.
"I need your help." Glinda declared, picking something off the bed and handing it to him. Taking it, Avaric recognised a light green measuring tape. He frowned, his brows close to meeting when she simply stepped onto the pedestal, turning to her mirror. He recognized it; she had taken it from the bathroom corner. "I… uhm… don't know how to take measurements…" her words came in fits, having to be pulled out from the back of her throat, "exactly." She added, trying not to seem as desperate as she was.
"What about the tailor? Could he not-"
"I didn't stick around to find out." She snapped at his attempt to escape. Taken aback, Avaric came to notice how distressed she was. The witch really detested asking for help. In a way, he felt flattered, being the one in trust with the tasks she could clearly not manage by herself.
Sighing with a lopsided smile, Avaric found the right end of the tape between index finger and thumb and stepped next to her – though not onto the pedestal, of course.
"He will need your widths and lengths, such as arms, back-"
"I know." This time, though annoyed, she spoke much softer. Sighing to herself, Glinda avoided his eyes, as well as her own in her reflection. "Can you just…?" she asked, losing the timid tone to a more determined one. Nodding shortly, he was surprised by her – again – sudden change of mood. He welcomed her old self though, gladly following the confident orders she gave.
Stepping up onto the pedestal behind her, Avaric focused on not falling, since she was hardly making any effort to create some space for him. Stretching his arms apart, he took the measurements of her shoulders, stepping down again. He looked around, then held out the tape to her, his fingers tightly clutching the numbers he needed to remember. Understanding, the blonde took it from him, puzzled why he walked out, towards the study.
Avaric returned with a small note book and a pen – the one with the shiny, dark red ink. Any colour of ink that was not green was unusual for the Emerald Palace, if not the entire city.
Sitting with one leg on the bed, Avaric scribbled the numbers onto the paper, having placed it on his bent knee. He felt her eyes on him, gulping almost inaudibly and putting the note aside. The boy continued to measure her arm lengths, torso length and, even after her refusing several times, her height. Glinda was crossed, but she knew she could not be, since he was the only one whom she let herself be helped by.
"Alright," he wrote down what he remembered, standing up with the measuring tape around his waist, "now only missing is width, that means hip, waist," he hesitated, if only for a heartbeat, "chest." He cleared his throat, standing next to the pedestal, facing the mirror like her. "For waist, measure the smallest part of your stomach, about two fingers width above your bellybutton. Hip, you'll measure the widest point," he demonstrated on himself, expecting her to do the rest by herself, "and for chest-"
"Avaric." Glinda interrupted, her usual way of saying – or rather singing – his name. She always sounded as if she wanted something, – something he surely would not allow her to want of him – or would he? – though she almost always did want something. In this case, he dearly hoped it to be shutting up, not anything else.
It was anything else.
He licked his lips, having dried out when the blonde did not take the measuring tape from him. She blinked at him, not yet fluttering her eyelashes, but almost. Avaric cursed the blood rushing into his cheeks, heating up his face. Almost unnotably, he pointed at himself, taking a small step back, still holding out the tape, but the young woman had turned to the mirror, waiting. He gulped when she stretched her arms out to the sides.
Inhaling as silently, yet deeply as he could, Avaric failed to calm his heart, beating rapidly. His hands started shaking lightly, when he made two steps forward until he was close to the pedestal, to her left. He would not dare to face her front – he feared the third measurement – his stomach making a small turn at the mere thought of it.
Exhaling, Avaric finally reached his arms around her slim form, neatly fixing the measuring tape around her hip, adjusting it only by tugging on the tape itself, careful not to touch her. Recalling what the tailor's apprentice had mumbled while taking his measurements, he made sure it was horizontal and relatively tight. He released her, making his way over to the bed with relief, cherishing the tiny break.
Avaric hated himself for being this immensely shy. He was with the girl of his dreams, alone, allowed to assist her in an intimate thing like taking her metrics. He knew he should be happy, which he was, just not yet. He was way too nervous to be glad about it yet. Already knowing he would fall asleep in hours to come only, Avaric finished the note and stepped next to her again, this time from the right, which was closer to the bed.
"Gimme." Glinda said, reaching her hand out to him. Confused, but slightly relieved, he held out the measuring tape to her, but the blonde shook her head, golden, perfect locks swishing from side to side, bouncily and light. Opening and closing her fingers, the young witch nodded over at the notebook, requesting to take the notes in his stead.
Not having thought it through, Avaric complied. He told his heart to be calm, which worked as well as he had expected, reaching the tape around her once more. Even slimmer at her waist, he dictated the number, the dreaded task suddenly returning to his mind. Trying not to pant, Avaric felt his face burn with blush. A headache started throbbing in his head, making him want to sit down.
"Uhm… you…" he started, not wanting to have to tell the blonde. Glinda turned her face, hands resting on her waist. She blinked at him, all the embarrassment and annoyance gone. She was simply confused. "You need to…" he gulped, avoiding her eyes, "remove… your…" he could not. He just could not say it. A second later, the blonde seemed to get his notion, reaching one hand behind her back, the hand closest to him.
Seemingly careless, Glinda slid her hand up her back, lifting her nightgown with it until her lower back. Her fingers fidgeted, but after a moment or two, she had loosened her bra and let it drop into her hand. For a second – a second where his heart almost popped a vessel in panic – Avaric thought she would give it to him, but the sorceress tossed it aside, onto the bed behind him.
Taking the notebook back into both hands, the blonde lifted her elbows for him to measure her. He gulped. Then again. His head was spinning; he could not do this, could he? She glanced at him from the corner of her eye. Was that a smirk she almost failed to supress? Avaric banned the thought, though it wanted to circle through his mind for a while longer. It seemed as if she was not only okay with this, but she – by some odd, unexplainable chance – wanted him to take those measurements. Curling his lips inward, the boy tried straightening himself, reaching out a hesitant arm.
It was almost exactly at the height his eyes were levelled with her standing on the pedestal. With both arms in a wide circle, Avaric skilfully threw the tape around her chest, glad to have it lay perfectly underneath her bosom. Fingers meeting at her side, more to the back, he joined the ends together.
"Seventy-two." He muttered, hearing her scribble it onto the paper. Last one. He told himself, trying to overlook the fact of the last one being the most… inappropriate. Silently inhaling through his nose, he lifted the measuring tape, moving his hands upwards without touching her in the slightest. He tightened it, hoping for it to be just as exactly placed as the last one. Damnit. He shut his eyes for a long second, gritting his teeth. He was terrified. Thinking of the hint of a smirk she had given him, he did not dare to look up.
Glinda waited more patiently than he had ever witnessed her being. She opened her mouth, but Avaric could not stand whatever would come out of it, either being encouragement or tease, so he moved his hands. Soft. And more than he had expected. Readjusting the tape, he felt her eyes on him. Her chest stirred against his shaky fingers, suppressing a giggle. Hot embarrassment surged through him, his face burning with blush from his neck to the tips of his ears. Only now did he remember that she was able watch him with ease through the mirror the whole time through.
"Ninety-" he almost choked on his words, having to recheck, "…six." He concluded, retreating his hands, heck, himself, as quickly as possible. Glinda grinned from one ear to the other, almost victoriously.
"Thanks." She said, noting the last number down. Stepping down the pedestal, the blonde picked up her bathrobe, gazing outside the window while tightening the belt around her waist. The sun had just set, leaving the sky in a faint purplish blue, melting into darkness overhead. "Study?" She asked, not referring to her other room.
Avaric nodded, noticing how she went out with determination, having known from the beginning where the book was. He also observed how she did not bother to pick up her bra, but simply waited in the doorway for him to follow. Having noted his short side glance, she smirked, mischievously.
"I never wear it for studying." Glinda simply informed, causing his face to flush by the revelation, he had not asked for. Following nonetheless, Avaric tried processing the evening so far, knowing he would probably not sleep a lot for quite some nights from now on.
Glinda had not fallen asleep in Avaric's room that night and now found herself alone in her own. It was completely dark and for once, she disliked sleeping in her huge bed. It was empty and cold and lonely.
The blonde, still panting from her nightmare, stood up, releasing the pillow she had been clutching in her arms that failed to give her comfort. Unaware, her feet carried her outside of her room, down the stairs. She tried supressing her whimpering, Elphaba's scream echoing in her head. Hugging herself around her stomach, she sneaked into the first door on the right.
It was as dark as her own room, but Glinda knew her way around. Lifting the blanket, she climbed into the bed, settling behind Avaric, who stirred upon her lying down. He lifted his head, but the young witch – still breathing shakily with quivering lips – had already pressed her face into his back. Gripping the fabric of his shirt, she pulled it against her, as if wanting to suffocate herself in it.
Avaric held his breath for a moment, frozen. He could definitely feel her shaking, the tears seeping into his shirt, slightly wetting his back. He exhaled deeply, pushing his pillow further back beneath his head for her to rest on. Glinda swallowed her sniffle, breathing into his neck, almost calmly, when accepting the offer and resting her head on the pillow. Avaric reached an arm behind him, pulling up the blanket for her, since she was still fiercely holding on to his shirt, not giving him a chance to turn around.
Both fell asleep, him uneasy and her getting more sedated with every minute.