Chapter 24

He was right. She felt like hell.

And she blamed him entirely.

She was in the bathroom, where she had been for what felt like three days but was probably about 4 hours, and she was only now starting to feel marginally better. She had thrown up and thrown up again, and then dragged herself into the shower. She had managed to put on the bathrobe that was on the door and that she'd never before touched but that she strangely felt comfortable enough using now. Now that she knew Avaric a bit better. Now that he knew she was here, who she was, and that he wouldn't mind.

It was strange, knowing that he wouldn't mind. It was almost nice. He was not the sort of person she'd ever have been friends, or even acquaintances, with but now that she'd been thrown into his life, and he hadn't, as she would have expected him to, thrown her back out... She was, if nothing else, grateful for him. He'd offered her something last night that she'd needed. An ear, a drink and a strange sense of comfort. Of safety.

She didn't have friends. She didn't have friends at all, and Avaric wasn't one either. A far cry from one. She knew that. She used to have Glinda, and though she loved her as much now as she did before, they were, obviously, not in touch with each other. Her sister would never fill that role again and her comrades in the resistance were people without faces. She'd never talked to them about anything but the job. Not a word. But last night... she'd needed it. That's what had driven her here. To talk about Fiyero. To talk, for once, about this situation she was in, this love she could barely deal with, this love she felt would be the end of her soon. She'd really, really needed it. Even if she didn't like what Avaric had to say.

The smell of coffee roused her from her fast derailing train of thought. She ignored the memory of other mornings in this apartment, waking up to the smell of coffee and feeling beautiful and loved. Treasured. A feeling she would remember forever. And miss for much longer than that.

She dragged herself to the kitchen, where Avaric was eating something that made her want to run back to the bathroom. He turned and took a long look at her, then laughed. Loud.

She wanted to kill him.

"Morning, sleeping beauty."

She didn't hit him because she didn't want to move that fast.

"Shut it."

"Hey, I warned you."

He pushed a mug of coffee in her direction.

"I take it you don't want anything to eat?"

She didn't bother with an answer, just took her coffee and walked over to the sofa.

"Why aren't you gone yet, anyway? Don't you have a social life to maintain or something? A job, perhaps?"

She didn't bother keeping the venom from her tone. If it hurt his feelings that was his problem.

"What's with the tone? I even made you coffee."

"Uhuh."

"Anyway, I leave this afternoon, not to worry. You can stay, though. I won't be back for a while and you know where the liquor is now."

A big grin accompanied that last sentence and she threw another hateful glare his way.

"What's with the random act of kindness? It's not as if we're chums, after all."

She quoted him and it got his attention.

"We're not, are we? But...I don't know...I've come to like you."

"You've come to like me?"

Masking emotions would demand energy she didn't have so the incredulity was almost tangible. She didn't trust him. Never would. Probably.

"Yes, how hard is that to comprehend? I don't know why, exactly. You were always fun to rile up, but now...You have guts. I like it."

"Thanks for the assessment."

"Don't mention it."

She smiled then. A small but real smile. A genuine one that showed appreciation and humility. She owed him more than she would ever repay him.

"I might come to like you too."

He threw his head back as he laughed and it made her smile grow wider.

"Well, that is all I can hope for."

There was a companionable silence that she never would have expected. It was almost, kind of, like it used to be with Glinda. She didn't feel the need to talk because Avaric was a chatterbox, even if half the words out of his mouth were filth. He read the gossip section in the paper out loud, saying horrible things that she almost enjoyed because they concerned horrible people, and he laughed a lot and out loud, at the world around him. He took nothing seriously, it seemed, least of all himself, but there were lines around his eyes that proved differently.

They knew nothing about each other's life and they were both aware of that. Yet, here she was, in his bathrobe, on his sofa, her wet hair ruining the fabric. And she was comfortable doing so. She didn't feel the need to hide her face, her hands, her bare feet. Because, in school, and it was strange how she only just remembered that detail now, he had never made fun of her skin. He'd made fun of her, teased her, bullied her a little, yanked her tail and got her worked up whenever he could, but he had never done with the sole ammunition of her skin colour. In fact, she was scarily certain that he wouldn't blink at her skin, that he wouldn't care, would maybe not even notice. So yes, she was fine, ruining his furniture and holding out her mug, indicating she wanted more coffee

He filled it, too. She grinned and he wagged his eyebrows.

She knew she had to get up, get dressed and wait for Fiyero. She needed to deal with his, as fast as possible. But she didn't want to. She wanted to hide here and never have the conversation she knew she had to have.

Her stomach clenched. She didn't want her coffee anymore.

She moved to get up and froze at the sound of the door, a key being turned.

Her eyes sought Avaric's but he seemed just as surprised as she was.

"He's certainly not wasting time."

He was right. Fiyero had a key now.