Terribly sorry for the delayed update! It was a hellish week (so many deadlines, I got sick, etc.). But here we are! Hope you enjoy this happy chapter!
Day 334
January 2019
Fiyero knocked on the door and silently waited until it was opened. It was a small building, but he already grew accustomed to its thinly carpeted floor and narrow corridors. He was visiting Elphaba at her apartment as a surprise. They had already made up, but he still wanted to make it up to her.
He held a bouquet of red poppies and white daisies wrapped by a stretchy golden string in his right hand. On his left hung a few paper bags of take-out food from Marcey's, their favorite café. It was a wonder how he managed to knock on the door. And though he did have a key and could enter on his own, he wanted his entrance to be a bit more… poetic? He wasn't sure.
The door opened, and once he knew he was in visual range, he started belting.
"We are the champions, my friends! Dum Dum Dum!" he raised the bouquet in the air as he swayed to his own music. "And we'll keep on fight-eng 'til the end… Dum Dum Dum!"
Elphaba laughed, and it made his day. "Fiyero, what is this?" she asked, amusedly.
"Congratulotions, my dear Fae!" he exclaimed as he handed her the bouquet and began entering the apartment with her.
They set the items on the dining table, and Elphaba went to wash some glasses. As he followed her around the kitchen, he paused. "Wait," he said. "You said you got the job, right? If I heard it wrong this would've been so awkward. So much for a poetic entrance," he rambled.
"You call that poetic?" was her answer. And he knew he did hear it right.
"You got the job!" he screamed and he pulled her in a tight hug. "Congratulotions, Fae!"
He led her to sit on the couch, and she raised her legs to rest on his lap while his arm rested on her back. "I knew the moment I read your application entry that Strumpet-man would adore you," he told her.
"It was the first time someone asked me to write for them as an application…" she said in wonder. "Mr. Strumpet looks like a very kind man."
"And you're a very talented writer," he said as he planted a soft kiss on her nose.
She chuckled, and he pulled her to sit on his lap while she wound her arms around his neck.
"I love you," he said. "You know that, right?"
"Yero, my hero," she said, smiling. And it melted his heart.
She moved closer, and he met her halfway. Their lips touched, softly and slowly—as if she was testing the waters. It was always like this recently. They would get into a heated discussion, an argument, a fight, or whatever one would like to call it. But they would always find their way back together somehow. And things would go back to how they were.
He relished in her scent and the taste of her lips. It felt so familiar but at the same time so foreign and new. For a moment, time seemed to stop; yet the clock continued to tick.
He rested his forehead on hers and gazed into her eyes as their chests heaved with heavy breaths. He knew he couldn't be more in love—her hazel eyes, coconut-y scent, silky hair, and soft skin; her intelligence, personality, and the way she loved him. His mind raced but seemed to stay blank at the same time.
Suddenly, the small space between them seemed too big. So he closed the gap, again.
He clutched her waist and she ruffled his hair, as they kissed with a heat that could melt the snow outside the window. Soon, he felt her relax, and he moved to her jaw, planting tender kisses on her defined features. But before he could pull her even closer, she pulled away.
"Lunch is getting cold," she said with a teasing smile.
And he was left dumbfounded on the couch.