Hansel’s Enchanted Fairytale: Fill Me Up With Magic! - Chapter 27
But Hansel wasn’t in any state to notice his subtle expressions. She simply strode past him toward the center of the dressing room.
“Just make me some clothes. I want to change as soon as possible.”
“Okay. Take off your clothes.”
He grabbed a measuring tape, summoned with magic, and approached her quickly. Hansel instinctively took a step back toward the full-length mirror.
“T-Take them off? Can’t you just measure me as I am? Usually, for measurements, you—”
Hansel abruptly clamped her mouth shut. Claiming to have lost her memory but recalling something so detailed might seem suspicious. Then again, maybe it wouldn’t matter?
While she wrestled with her thoughts, he stepped forward and deftly pulled her tunic off. Hansel let out a small shriek, wrapping her arms around her chest. Her full b*****s, ample for her petite frame, squished softly against each other.
Even if he had already seen everything before, standing naked in front of a mirror in broad daylight was still mortifying. Hansel’s face burned red.
“You should say something before taking it off!”
“I’ll do that next time.”
He stretched out the measuring tape, stepping even closer. Hansel found herself cornered with nowhere to retreat.
Behind him, the serene view of fluffy clouds and a tranquil sky framed his figure as he stretched the tape.
“You used magic to fetch the tape, so why are you measuring by hand?”
“Hands are the most accurate.”
“……”
“I knead dough by hand when baking bread too.”
Without waiting for more objections, he began taking her measurements. His movements were entirely focused on measuring, devoid of any s****l intent.
Yet the strange tension in the air made Hansel’s feet tingle. Her heart thudded each time his fingertips brushed her shoulders or arms, or when his breath ghosted over her skin as he leaned in.
He seemed entirely absorbed, his lips pressed together, his gaze lowered in concentration. The harsh sunlight poured over him, catching on his long eyelashes. His lashes were incredibly long, framing sharp, smooth features—a sleek nose, and crimson lips.
Up close, Hansel noticed again how tall and broad he was. His long limbs made his frame look lean, but, like his c**k, there was no part of him that wasn’t thick or solid. Without the warmth radiating from his body, he could have been mistaken for a statue carved with a sharp chisel.
Hansel swallowed hard.
After measuring her arm length, he slid his hand under her arm to measure her chest. A sweet, syrupy scent wafted from him.
The tape grazed her already stiffened n*****s, drawing a ticklish sensation. Hansel clenched her teeth to keep her breathing steady. Luckily, he didn’t seem to notice.
After measuring her waist and thighs, he let his hands fall to his sides, and the tape dropped limply to the floor.
“You’re small.”
The sudden remark hit Hansel like a jab, and her temper flared. She knew he didn’t mean it as an insult, but still.
“I’m not small. I’m average.”
“Your waist is a single handspan. Your arms and legs are thin, too.”
“That doesn’t mean I’m small. I’m slender.”
“Okay. Slender.”
He repeated her words and raised his own arm as if to emphasize the difference. His arm was nothing but muscle, as if sculpted from solid wood. If not for the visible blue veins and taut tendons, it might as well have been a carved log.
“Your limbs aren’t even half as thick as mine.”
“You’re just too muscular. Besides, you’re a man.”
He seemed to mentally catalog her measurements, narrowing his eyes as though considering something.
“A tree broke during the last storm,” he muttered.
“…And?”
“The trunk was thicker than you.”
He stood in thought for a moment, then suddenly turned his head. Hansel followed his gaze.
Several rolls of fabric on one wall unraveled on their own. He had apparently decided which material to use for her clothes.
It was hideously ugly leather. Even from a distance, it looked coarse and heavy, with a yellowish-green hue and bumpy protrusions.
“Wait. You’re not making my clothes out of that, are you? What is it?”
“Orc leather.”
“What?!”
Hansel, horrified, grabbed his arm. The unrolling fabric halted midair.
“With all these gorgeous materials here, why orc leather?!”
Hansel pointed at the fabric wall, her eyes blazing.
He wrinkled his nose slightly.
“It’s sturdy. Lighter than armor.”
The material was strong enough that even if she were thrown or collided with something, her ribs wouldn’t break.
“No matter how sturdy it is, orc leather is a no! I hate it!”
