So, this is a little Flinda/Gliyero piece I wrote several months ago, now, and completely forgot about. Upon finding it again, I thought it was worth posting before it got lost away in the depths of my computer For Good. Enjoy :D
It seemed to Galinda Upland that all her dreams were coming true in one night.
In one night, she had met the boy of her dreams. The man of her fantasies. The prince of her fairytale; her prince. Her beautiful, dashing, charming, confident, scandalous Fiyero. Hers.
In just one night.
In one night, she had danced and eaten and drunk and talked and chattered and giggled with more friends and ardent admirers than ever before; in one night, she had secured her place as the most beautiful, the most charming, the most rich, the most popular girl in the whole of Shiz.
Galinda loved it. Loved every second of it; loved how boys' eyes followed her wherever she went, how sweet and loyal and perfect she must look when she had eyes for only one man as she flittered and skipped round the room with her hand placed – possessively – on his arm. She loved how her pink ruffled dress rippled out in strawberry waves as she danced and spun; loved how the light bounced off it like her golden curls bounced behind her wherever she moved, from the bar to the plush-cushioned chairs, from the arms of her beautiful escort to the hands of her wide-eyed friends, their envy clear in every expression and word they spoke.
Galinda loved it. Loved it. Loved it all.
For Galinda, as she twisted and whirled and was lifted high into the air by the strong arms of her fairy-tale-prince-come-true, the night couldn't have got better. Her smile could have lit the whole of the dance floor with its radiance as Fiyero lowered her gently to the ground again, his smile matching hers as he drew her close – wonderfully close – and the dance went on. Galinda's mouth ached from smiling – but it was a good kind of ache, an ache from smiling because you want to, because there's simply no other expression your body can assume to let others know how you're feeling at that particular moment. A true ache, from a true smile; not a fake pulling up of the lips she so often forced herself to use.
Galinda couldn't have been happier. Couldn't have been more proud, or glowing with such confidence and joy. Couldn't have been happier.
And couldn't have been more in love with the man holding her in his strong, muscular arms.
She'd been right. Of course she'd been right - when had she ever been wrong? Fiyero was it for her. She'd known – or told herself she'd known – the moment she'd laid eyes on him. Seen for herself the striking, daring, unbelievably handsome prince with that deliciously scandalous reputation, and riches any girl would fall for. That was, after all, most of what it had been at first – the riches and rank of the prince and his well-known family, how close they were to the Wizard, how important and respected by all in Oz. Everything she wanted to be. Everything she planned to be.
Everything she would be, one day.
But then there was Fiyero himself. Everything about him – his honey-smooth voice, the way his chocolate-dark hair fell in casual disarray around his perfectly sculpted features – everything about him was perfect in a perfectly…imperfect way. And Galinda loved it.
She knew he felt the same. Knew from the way his eyes moved so appreciatively over the curves of her body, the neckline of her tight little dress, and the curls of her corn-silk soft hair. This fact only brought another secret smile to her flushed, wide-eyed face as she thought of it. Already, she had him. Already, he was hers, hers, hers…
The energetic number began to slow towards its ending – gently, Fiyero set her down from a lift, both of them breathing heavily and laughing as she tossed golden locks out of her face and stared up to meet his gaze with forget-me-not blue eyes. He grinned; that daring, slightly lopsided grin that brought colour to her cheeks just about every time she saw it – and his gaze moved to her lips.
She knew what was going to happen before it did.
Galinda closed her eyes, her arms dropping to hang by her sides, reaching eagerly up on tip-toes towards her prince as he drew her flush up against him. He lifted her slightly, one hand sliding up her waist to tilt her head back, and moved to catch her lips with his in a bold, fleeting, tumbling, rushing first-kiss.
Galinda couldn't speak. Couldn't think. Could only feel; feel his surprisingly soft lips descending in such a smooth, confident – experienced –kiss over hers. How many times had she daydreamt over this moment? How many times had she sat staring into space with misty eyes, wishing and wondering and longing for the moment so many of her giggling friends talked about?
Now, finally, it was happening to her. With the most perfect man on earth.
Somehow, when Fiyero drew back, her arms had found their way round his neck. He gazed down at her with amused but satisfied eyes, smirking slightly as she could only stare in dazed adoration back up at him.
He jerked his head in the direction of the bar, and then bent towards her ear.
"Another drink, Miss Upland?" he murmured.
Galinda could only nod wordlessly, her heart pounding like a steam engine as his breath danced across her neck and scarlet cheek. He drew back, chuckling softly, and led her away from the whirling dance floor and over to the drinks table, as he had done so many times before already that evening – only this time, his hand stayed round her waist.
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