Disclaimer: Being that this is called fanfiction, I do not own the characters in question.
Author's Note: A bookverse vignette. Subtle Gelphie. Blink and you'll miss it.
Her gaze was drawn to the rich, satin brocade of the drapery, the slick lacquer tabletop, the delicate chinaware... The room possessed a certain aesthetic appeal, but it was lacking in charisma.
Glinda crossed one tiny ankle over top the other and leaned forward in her seat-- a half-genuine attempt to pay attention to the conversation at hand. But her thoughts remained otherwise occupied.
The man in front of her was dressed in handsome brown pinstripe, and was not bad-looking, for all of his considerable girth. His fingers flexed habitually; he was, perhaps, eager to slide one plump digit beneath his collar and loosen it. The room was overly warm. Or perhaps it was the company that had him flushed.
They sat in newly-lapsed silence for a time, the man-- a Sir Chuffrey by name-- quite enamored by her vapid smile.