The coffee house was the student body's favourite haunt. It's a hippy, two storied building sitting just outside of campus. In the weekdays, students flocked to the coffee house for their daily morning cuppa, and the weekend crowd usually appeared in the afternoons, where college kids sat around a table, sipping specialty coffee, chattering over attractive professors and frat parties.
They had plenty of artisans in the Vinkus, but none were quite like what he'd seen so far in central Oz. Fiyero watched curiously as the baristas, part-timers from Three Queens hall, expertly prepared their convoluted specialty peppermint coffee. He was sitting quite comfortably in a long table with 5 of his friends from Ozma Towers. The Gillikinese boys had been chattering tediously since they sat down.
"—Yeah, but my father told me that the eastern path is longer, but more scenic. Isn't that the whole point of the hike? To take in the sights?" The ginger boy, Hal, argued frustratedly with Tellis, the blond, square-jawed, son-of-a-Politian sitting adjacent to him.
"I mean, sure, we should take in the sights, but we have to account for the return trip down—" Tellis waved his finger distractedly as he spoke, furrowing his brows.
"—Do they have pit stops up there? I don't wanna lug a huge bottle of water for this trip—"
"—And it's like a hundred feet away from the restroom—"
"—Lurline, why'd we choose trekking of all the Oz damned activity to spend our weekend doing—"
Fiyero let the voices of his friends fade in and out of his head as he continued watching the baristas. His eyes followed them as one of the baristas stepped out from behind the counters and delivered a plain looking cup, still steaming, to the booth by the large windows.
A girl sat alone in the booth. Fiyero was surprised that he hadn't noticed her until now. She's striking, in the sense that one would never overlook her in any place and time, simply because—well—she was green. The girl handed the barista a note and smirked. The barista pulled the corner of his lips and winked at her. They seem acquainted, it seems.
Fiyero was intrigued.
He chatted mindlessly with his friends for a few hours, his eyes were constantly drawn to the booth where she sat. Her long, black hair was bunned up messily, stray loopies were threatening to dislodge themselves from her hair tie. Her emerald skin had such an allure to it, next to the backdrop of the navy sky and white bed of snow right outside.
He wasn't sure exactly how long he played this game of staring at strange green girls and pretending to still care about what his friends were jabbering about, but it felt like hours before his friends had finally finished with their coffee and stood from their table.
"I'll pay for this round," Fiyero said hastily as his friends began fishing out notes from their bulging wallets.
"It is a custom in the Vinkus?" Hal, the ginger one, asked with raised brows, "It's quite alright, you know, we usually only do stuff like that when we drink at bars or at the Philosophy Club."
"Hey hey, would it be culturally insensitive if we don't let Yero pay for us, like, if he wants to?"
"What? Culturally insensitive? What are you going on about now—"
In the confusion, Fiyero approached the cashier and waved at his friends to leave. "I got this—And, um, don't wait for me. I'm not heading back to campus yet, I'm, um, meeting with a friend…?"
The boys gave a look but thought nothing of Fiyero's strange behaviour. They shook hands, fist bumped and bro-hugged, and finally exited the coffee house. The door swung open and a gust of cold air wafted in. Finally, when the atmosphere settled, the coffee house was quiet again.
Not many people were still hanging around this late into the night. With Fiyero's group gone, the coffee house now consisted of the two baristas from Three Queens, green girl, a sleeping munchkin in the corner booth and two girls talking quietly in the booth three tables down from green girl.
He wasn't sure why he felt compelled to approach the green girl, but his body was moving on its own. Even as he rudely placed himself in the seat directly opposite to her, she didn't even seem to notice that he was there. She was wholly focused on the stack of books in front of her and jotting down notes on her lecture pads.
He didn't know what he should do. It was rude enough of him to simply sit down in her booth without so much as asking her, but now she seemed content on completely ignoring him. Should he try to get her attention? What was he trying to accomplish anyway?
"… Your friends must be truly a naïve bunch if they really believed that you offering to pay for coffee was a cultural thing."
He was startled out of his daydream by the sound of her voice. She was still focused on her notes, but at least she was acknowledging him now.
"It's because I'm from out of town—" He explained, but cut short when he noticed her smirk.
"Yes, I can tell by the tanned skin and blue tribal tattoos crawling up from your neck. Not exactly Gillikinese or Munchkinlander."
He blinked blankly. Fiyero wasn't used to quipping. He wasn't used to receiving them and he wasn't used to participating in them. Although, he wasn't sure if he disliked quipping. It's certainly a strangely refreshing change of pace from all the standard pleasantries and overt flirtation.
Although… he wasn't particularly good at banter, and Fiyero didn't know how else to continue the conversation. They fell back into an awkward (at least on his end) silence. It was a few minutes later that she took a coffee break and sipped from her cup. He peered into it as she set the cup down. Black, it seems. No hint of cream, or anything else, for that matter.
She was finally looking at him. Her eyes were a pleasant hazel, he noticed.
"What do you want from me? You're just kinda sitting there."
Fiyero let the question sink in and found himself confused as well. Yes, exactly why was he sitting here with some strange green girl that he's never met before? She wasn't even that pretty. There was no reason why he'd feel compelled to sit with her in the dead of night.
He said what came to mind, the easiest explanation, and a particularly weak pick-up line, he admitted, "I thought you looked lonely."
She rolled her eyes and returned her attention to her notes. Fiyero felt his chest constrict. He was about to say something else when she commented snappily, "I prefer to be alone. It doesn't mean that I'm lonely." Her eyes flickered up to his for the briefest of moments before returning to the notes, "Seems to me, you're the lonely one."
Usually, Fiyero would say something self-deprecating and flirtatious, and it'd bring him back into the conversation, but he couldn't find it in himself to say anything like that right now. Lonely? Was he really? Why was he—Of course he's not lonely, she's just trying to play hard to get.
He stared confusedly at the green girl as she worked. Fiyero wanted to say something. Anything. Who was she to say that? Of course he's not lonely. He's only here because he was trying to be a nice guy, seeing that she was alone—But wait, she said she liked being alone. Does that mean she really rather prefer that he wasn't here right now?
It took another half an hour or so of back and forth internal debate before Fiyero finally realized what a giant douche he was, sitting with this green girl who'd rather him be gone… But he couldn't quite pull himself away. He was too drawn by her.
"You're still here?" He was startled by her voice. She was still focused on her notes, flipping casually through the confusing looking pages. "You know, creepily staring at a person while they're writing study notes isn't really a good use of your precious time. Shouldn't you be off preparing for some weekend activities or what not."
He raised his brows, heat rushing to his cheeks, "How'd you know—"
"The coffee house isn't particularly large, and there's nobody else here except for your table, chattering away like hamsters on caffeine."
"O-oh. Right."
There was silence again.
"I want to stay, though, if you don't mind." He hadn't even realized that he was saying it until he was already voicing it out. Fiyero watched her writing freeze and her body stiffen, but only for a split second. She placed her pen down, gingerly, glancing up at him with a raised brow.
She looked like she was assessing him, and unconsciously, he straightened his back. A minute later, she returned to her Oz damned notes.
"You're exactly the type that my roommate would get along with splendidly." She said matter-of-factly, her hands scribbling more words into her lecture pad.
Fiyero perked. Small talk! At least she was saying something other than snarks to get him to go away.
"Who's your room-mate? Maybe I'd know her?" He asked. Shiz was a large campus for a small, exclusive, student body. Everyone knew (or heard of) everyone. At least, that was what he believed until he met this green girl.
"Upland." She said, "Galinda Upland." She made a twirl with her wrists, "Blond, perky, enjoys the colour pink a little too much." He noticed a little smirk on her lips, "Obsesses, really."
"Oh? I've met her," Fiyero felt a start in his chest. Finally, they seemed to have a connection. "She was at Avaric Tenmeadew's party three weeks ago. We exchanged numbers I think."
"Of course you did," the green girl laughed, albeit sarcastically.
"Funny, she never mentioned that she had a room-mate."
"I'd be surprised if she did. She summons all her energy to pretend that I don't exist."
Fiyero frowned slightly, wrinkling his nose, "Why's that?"
"We don't get along." She shrugged casually, "We were forced to room together at the beginning of the previous semester. It was supposed to be temporary, but looks like Shiz admin would rather it was permanent." She chuckled amusedly, "Frayed her pretty blond nerves when the news came. Almost sent her into cardiac arrest I think."
"Why don't you two get along?" He asked curiously. His conversations with Galinda, though mostly filled with flirtation, gave him the impression that she was a vain, but mostly good person. Everyone seemed to like her, certainly. She was easily the most popular girl on campus.
She looked at him, wide eyed, as if he asked the stupidest question in the world, and Fiyero realized, she probably did think of him a completely and utterly brainless at this point.
"I'm green." She said slowly, and then a little more casually, "and I frustrate her. Apparently I tend to 'fly off the handle'." she emphasized with air quotes.
He looked over her. She didn't seem like the type to explode into a passionate speech, if that was what Galinda meant by 'fly off the handle'. The vibe that he was getting off of the green girl was simply clever wit, snarky sarcasm and bouts of insecurity. She seemed like the type to walk away from a fight, and not right into it. Perhaps he'd been wrong.
He was curious.
They were quiet again, but this time, Fiyero felt less awkward.
She had returned her attention to her notes and Fiyero was getting ready to simply sit and watch her work for another hour or so when she muttered, without ever lifting her eyes from her notes, "You should talk to her though. Galinda."
Fiyero looked at her inquisitively, "I'm sorry, what?"
She exhaled steadily, "Talk to her. I really think you two would click."
"Didn't you say that you two don't get along?"
"Sure, but, bothersome as she is… Galinda can be pretty sweet." She said almost wistfully, "… She's good at heart." There was a glint in her eyes as she shrugged, "Her priorities are problematic but I think she's just led astray by Pfanee and ShenShen."
Fiyero ran a hand through his tousled brown locks, scratching the back of his head, "Hrmph. Maybe I will." He was sure he'd be texting Galinda, but probably not for the reasons green girl was thinking. He wanted to know more about this strange girl who was sipping strong, black coffee and scribbling pages upon pages of what looked like life science study notes. Surely her room-mate would give him more insight.
They fell back into a comfortable silence and the green girl seemed to allow Fiyero's presence at her table. She continued scribbling and taking sips from her coffee occasionally. He observed the way she wrote. Her hand-writing was messy, to say the least. He could hardly make out what each clump of writing was supposed to read. Although he couldn't make heads or tails of what she had written, he was sure that it was something smart. She seemed like the type. Beautiful mind, his father used to say. They needed more of these types of people in the Vinkus. Enough of the artisans!
It was a full hour later when she finally set her pen down and began packing her books into her worn-out backpack.
"Are you leaving?" He asked stupidly.
She raised a brow at him and said nothing. When she was finally done stuffing her notes into a cracked, hard plastic holder, she picked up her half empty cup of coffee and offered it to him, "Would you mind slamming this down for me? I wouldn't want the drink to go to waste."
He took the cup, their fingers touching briefly. When heat began to rise to his cheeks, Fiyero took one large gulp and finished off the rest of the coffee. It took all of his self-control to not wince at the bitterness of the drink as it washed down his throat. Yup, no sugar.
She seemed like she was set to leave without even saying goodbye as she tugged her bag and began stepping out of the booth. Fiyero cleared his throat hurriedly, "C-Can I walk you back?"
She paused, staring back at him almost blankly.
"No." She said with a straight face.
He tried again, "…Would you go to the New Year's party at Ozma Towers next week?"
"No." She was straight faced again, although this time her voice had a hint of amusement, and it gave him hope.
"Will I see you again?" He asked. He felt his chest constrict painfully at the dead air between them.
She raised a brow and blinked slowly, almost as if she was genuinely surprised… or confused.
"Most probably in foreign politics next semester," she said. The corner of her lips twitched slightly, as if she were trying so hard to fight a smile.
It was Fiyero's turn to be surprised. "You're taking F.P too? I've never seen you—"
"—Foreign Politics bore me. I sit at the back of the class for that one." She stuck her tongue out, "Nikidik's an ass."
He laughed.
Quite suddenly, without so much as a goodbye, she took off. He wasn't sure why he couldn't bring himself to call after her, and it was then that he realized that he hadn't even gotten her name. He wondered briefly if she knew who he was. Surely she knew? She's the one who brought up that they took the same class.
"She's a weird one, ain't she?"
Fiyero's attention was pulled towards the counter where the two baristas were smiling conspiratorially at him. The taller of the two, whose tag read 'Crope', pulled his lips into a grin, "If you don't want to wait till next semester to see her, you can come back here around the same time in the weekends."
Fiyero wasn't sure what to say to that. He thanked them awkwardly and stepped outside. It'd stopped snowing a few hours ago and the ground was covered in a thick blanket of fresh powder. Evidence of a myriad of footsteps led towards the campus. He stared longingly towards Crage Hall where the general studies and life sciences students were housed. She lived there, most probably. He vaguely recalled Galinda mentioning that she was from Crage Hall as well.
Fiyero begun his lonely walk home, his mind clouded by the image of a green girl, sitting alone in the booth drinking black coffee.
A/N Hi guys! I know that it's been weeks since I last updated my ongoing story... Don't get irritated! The chapters are undergoing Beta and revision :)
I've also received PMs from concerned readers who're worried that I might discontinue writing the story because of the lack of reviews.
To that I say, don't worry. I'm writing as a hobby and for myself, really. Reviews are always awesome to read, but I'm not too worried about them.
In any case, I hope you've enjoyed this one-shot!
Once again, I've created a Bookverse/Musicalverse love-child and I'll really like to hear what you guys think about the characterizations!