Disclaimer: I do not own Wicked.
Heehee, you're all expecting wedding-night sex….Sorry, this is post-sex fluffiness. I was skimming a Nicholas Sparks book today to decide whether I wanted to read it, and it gave me this idea for a "You're perfect/No, I'm not" battle. So here it is = ]
"Elphaba, I've decided something," Fiyero announced to his wife as they lay facing each other in their enormous, richly furnished bed.
"But darling, doesn't deciding something require you to think?" Elphaba asked with an air of innocent puzzlement.
"Very funny." He flicked her nose lightly with the tip of his finger. "But to answer your question, this decision didn't take much thinking at all. It was so painfully obvious that I didn't pull a single muscle in my brain thinking about it."
"Really?" Elphaba's eyes sparkled humorously.
"Yes, really."
"Wow, this is quite an accomplishment," she teased. "Won't you please enlighten me?"
"I intend to. What I've decided, Fae-" He pressed his lips to her forehead. "- is that you're perfect- absolutely one hundred percent flawless. I can't find a single thing wrong with you, and believe me- I've pulled many brain muscles trying."
"Yes," Elphaba agreed. "Only a severely damaged brain could lead you to the conclusion that the outspoken, sarcastic, and altogether bad-tempered and disagreeable green girl is perfect."
"I'm serious!" he insisted. "I love your skin, I love your sarcasm, I even love your temper-"
"I must not direct it at you often enough," she muttered under her breath.
Fiyero ignored that comment. "Really, Fae, I do. Besides that, you're brilliant, passionate, beautiful-"
She stopped him again. "Fiyero Tiggular, you are delusional. I am in no way, shape or form beautiful."
"Yes, you are," he said stubbornly. "Do I have to spell it out for you, Fae? Because I will, gladly."
"Alright, then," Elphaba consented. "Let's hear it. Tell me how you could possibly see anything but ugly when you look at me." She looked him straight in the eye, challenging him to actually come up with something; surely he wouldn't be able to.
He didn't flinch. "I see everything but ugly when I look at you, because, like I said, you're perfect," he stated, as though it were an inarguable fact; in his mind, it was. "That's just the way it is. Your eyes are perfect." He brushed his lips gently over her eyelids. "Your nose is perfect." He kissed the tip of her nose. "Your lips are definitely perfect." This was followed with a much longer kiss. "And as for the rest of you…" He stroked his fingers with tantalizing delicacy from her neck to her navel, bringing his hand to rest on her hip. "The rest of you is beyond perfect."
Elphaba was silent for a moment, then placed a hand on his cheek and kissed him softly. She moved into his arms, pressing herself against his strong, muscular chest, and sighed. "I still think you're crazy." She looked up at him and smiled. "But I like it."
Fiyero chuckled and wrapped his arms around her, and began rubbing her back lightly. He was almost asleep when she spoke again.
"Yero?"
"Yeah?"
There was a short pause, then, "I think you're pretty perfect, too."
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