Fiyero has to will himself not to pass out the moment he stands up. He'd thought a nap would've been enough to lessen his hangover, but his head was pounding.

"Well," he clears his throat, "so long, Avaric. I doubt I'll last much longer at this one than I did at any of the others."

"Wait, wait, sire!" Avaric catches up to Fiyero, who was already walking away. "Your books."

"Right," Fiyero almost scoffs, like he'll actually use them. His last college was way ahead of everyone else. Academically, he figures he has at least a month before he actually starts getting new material.

"Have a good rest of the semester, sire," Avaric waved as he drove away and Fiyero was left standing in the middle of a mildly busy courtyard.

As he pulls out his class schedule, Fiyero briefly wonders which of his personal records he'll be able to break this time, either getting kicked out in less than five days or lasting more than two months. Maybe he should just vandalize the awful monument behind him. That should do it right? He's really not up for this again.

His parents could beg and make deals with school directors all they wanted, it wasn't going to do any good; it certainly hadn't so far. If they thought him such a lost cause why even bother? Weren't they tired of going through the same thing over and over again? He certainly was.

Fiyero takes off his sunglasses to be able to read the class schedule better and out of the corner of his eye, he sees a small hint of green. Not like the trees, it had been more of a lighter, emerald kind of hue. He turns his head and as quickly as it had been there it disappears because a young woman sitting on a bench turns around and her back is to him.

Her long, black hair cascades gently down her back. She's sitting up perfectly straight, almost regal-like and it elongates her even more, which makes the length of her hair even more impressive. It reaches the bench. He's sure that she could sit on it if she really meant to. He can see pages of a book peeking out from each side of her head.

Maybe there's still alcohol in his system, but Fiyero catches a glimpse of the thin fingers that are holding the book up. And they're green.

At least, he's pretty sure they're green. And it's that exact same green color he'd only briefly seen a couple moments before.

Interesting.

He'd been right. That particular shade of green wasn't like the trees, it was lighter. Much lighter than most of the Emerald City as well, but darker than pears and green apples. There was really nothing like it that he's ever seen before.

Was it just her fingers that were green or…?

Just as he's about to take a step in her direction, he feels a tap on his shoulder and, reluctantly, he turns away from the mysterious raven-haired woman, and finds himself face to face with a petite blonde.

She chuckles softly with a smile before asking, "Were you looking for something or," she flips her short hair back in what was so obviously a flirtatious manner. "Someone?"

Fiyero barely holds back a smirk. He hadn't even said anything yet, well, not that he would need much of an introduction, and she was already flirting with him. That's a nice stroke to his ego.

"Oh yes," he says in a voice a bit lower than his usual speaking voice. No harm in flirting back a little bit. Besides, this girl was gorgeous. Fiyero pulls up his schedule so she can see it. "Some sort of history class."

"Oh! That's the history building there!"

Fiyero nearly jumps at suddenly being pulled in one direction, but he's just as quickly being pulled back the other way.

"The class just ended," the pretty blonde says.

"Oh," Fiyero laughs and puts his schedule away. "Well, perfect timing," he'll take that as a sign to not go to class today. In fact, "So, what does one do for fun around here?"

For some reason, he finds himself saying it more nonchalantly than he'd intended to because he really wants to glance at the woman with possible green skin. She'd been real, right? He had to make sure she was still there. And she was. She hadn't seemed to have moved at all.

"Nothing," he hears the blonde say and he turns back around. She gives him a quick glance over up and down before adding, "till now," and he smirks.

"We've been studying!" A shorter man, Fiyero's willing to bet all his money that he's a Munchkin as the blonde woman is taller than him, puts himself between them and holds up a book, even flipping a couple pages to show all his notes and markings to prove his point.

"Studying?" Fiyero raises an eyebrow. He looks around and sure enough, there are many people with their noses in books, not just the woman with the long, black hair. Dear Oz, how hopeless was this school? Three months into the semester and nobody did anything fun? Finals were also no excuse. "Well!" he says a bit more loudly than he'd really needed to, and totally not to get a certain someone to turn around. "I see that once again the responsibility to corrupt my fellow students falls to me."

As he keeps looking around, he catches the woman's head straightening up ever so slightly. As if she'd just stopped reading and looked straight ahead. As if she'd heard and listened to what he'd said.

"The trouble with schools is they always try to teach the wrong lesson," Fiyero steps on the monument behind him, putting him a few feet above the ground and giving him a better view of the courtyard and of all the students, who had started to gather around a little bit. Prefect, he had everyone's attention. Well, almost everyone's. "Believe me, I've been kicked out of enough of them to know."

"I wouldn't brag about that, man," a voice pipes in from his right.

Fiyero doesn't know who it was, so he merely says in that direction, "Get back to me when you've taken more than four kinds of math, science, and history classes all within a semester," it didn't hurt to brag. Maybe that's why his head hurt so much; nevermind that he got absolutely hammered every once in a while, his brain was just too full of numbers and terminology and…something about plagues.

And sure, he'd barely passed, but he didn't flunk any of them. Him getting kicked out was more of a behavioral thing. But it has been worth it everytime.

This is what schools were missing. They, as the students will answer every question, fill in every little bubble, and circle all the letters they want, so long they could find a way to loosen up. And if Fiyero happened to find ways of loosening up that sometimes involved fire, then that was his deal. In his defense, the explosion had been completely accidental. The second one, at least.

"Where was I? Oh yeah! Why invite stress in? Stop studying strife and learn to live the unexamined life," Fiyero hops down the step and instinctively turns his head to the left, towards the bench where he hopes the woman with the black hair is still sitting.

She's still there. Even better, she seems to have put her book down and her head was craned just a little bit to her right, as if she was trying to hear him better or debating to look over her shoulder or not. After a couple seconds, he saw her raise her book up again. Now he knew he was catching at least some of her attention.

But he wants all of it.

"You're bound to overload if your entire life revolves around school. You'll be amazed at how much lighter you feel when you just dance through life. We need a party," Fiyero claps his hands together and turns to the blonde woman. "What's the most swankified place in town, uh…?"

"Oh! Galinda," she says with a small giggle once she realizes he'd been indirectly asking for her name. "And that would be the Ozdust Ballroom."

"It's open every day until two in the morning," someone from the crowd informs.

Say no more. "Sounds perfect! Everyone, let's go down to the Ozdust Ballroom! We can all dance until light."

"We're all invited?"

"Of course! The more the merrier, spread the word," Fiyero again has the urge to turn in the direction of the woman and when he does, he feels time stop.

She's turned around.

A dainty, green hand is grabbing on the back of the bench. Not clutching per say, her fingers are just naturally curling over the curve of the bench. Her chin is resting in the back of that hand, which immediately draws his attention to her lips. They're slightly parted and have a light touch of purple coloring, as do her cheeks, though her lips are a darker green than the color of her skin.

Her skin. Even from far away, he can bet that her skin is smooth. It looks so soft from where he's standing.

It's her eyes that take him aback, more so than anything else. Oz, they're entrancing. They're so dark, not in her stare, the actual color. He can't see a difference between her pupil and iris. It's like he's been stared down, he wonders if she's reading his soul, maybe at this moment she knows him better than he knows himself. There's a hint of curiosity in her eyes, other than that, he can't really tell what she's thinking, she has a guard up. But ironically she's pulling him in.

She's beautiful.

How is it that someone can look so innocent yet sensual at the same time? And all she's doing is sitting on a bench, looking over at him.

Fiyero snaps back to reality and there's more people in the courtyard than he remembers there being when he'd first gotten here. He can hear bits and pieces of their conversations; some are inviting others to the party tonight, when to meet, grab some dinner beforehand, the women are talking about what to wear, the men about what time to pick up their friends or dates.

He quickly looks back at the green woman and, thank Oz, she's still looking over in his direction, though now it's her elbow that's resting on the bench, and her palm is cradling her chin. She's looking over the crowd, he can see her eyes scanning the people.

Without a second thought, Fiyero starts walking towards her, an unfamiliar beat in his chest quickening with every step he takes. Still, he keeps walking and once he's put a good distance between himself and the crowd, her eyes land on him, and they stay on him. Her hand drops from her face and she sits up straight. She's realized he's coming towards her.

As he gets closer, he can see that she's dressed in a dark blue and it compliments her skin nicely. Once he's next to the bench she's sitting at, she closes her book and looks up at him, and Fiyero can see the small bookmark on her page sticking out from the top. She tilts her head, silently asking him what he wants. She isn't glaring, but she still has her guard up. Her legs are crossed as well as her arms in her lap, and her stare is more blank than anything else, but she seems almost intrigued, as if she wants to see where this is going; what could he possibly want to talk to her about?

"Hi."

Her eyebrows shoot up and a hint of an amused smile crosses her lips.

And Fiyero does not swoon.

"Hello," she says nonetheless, sounding confused.

But Oz, Fiyero can't help but want to hear more of her voice. It's deeper than he'd expected, more sultry and sophisticated, but there's still a hint of youthfulness to it. It suits her very well. Fiyero's certain that he's falling under whatever spell she's casting on him by the second.

But if that's the case, he doesn't care.

"Um," he looks down and he immediately snaps his head back up. No, he will not let his nerves get the best of him. Who's nervous? Nope, he can do this. "There's a party tonight. A dance. At the Ozdust."

"Yes, I've heard," her fingers pick at the corner of her book.

"Will you be going?"

Her face cringes and she looks to the crowd before looking back at him. "Don't know. Maybe not."

"Would you be willing to go with me?" Fiyero says slowly, wanting to make his intentions clear.

Her eyebrows shoot up again and he can tell she's biting the inside of her cheek by the way the corner of her mouth purses. He still can't read her stare. She's good at that. He wonders if she's had a lot of practice.

"You really must not use that brain of yours if you're asking me that."

"How so?" Fiyero intertwines his fingers in front of him.

"Are you color blind?"

"No, I'm not."

"Then the answer is obvious, don't you think?"

"Maybe to you. But I don't see a reason why that should influence me wanting to dance with you," and it breaks his heart a little bit that she would think it would.

What has she gone through?

She opens her mouth, about to say something, but she doesn't. Her lips stay parted and then her head tilts a little bit. "You're serious," she doesn't say it like a question. She's looking deeply into his eyes.

"Of course," Fiyero says, like it's the most obvious thing in the world, because to him it is. He really wants to dance with her tonight. He wants to escort her there, maybe he could bring her a flower. Not a rose, she doesn't seem like she likes roses. Fiyero tilts his head. Maybe a poppy?

"What?" she asks, tilting her head in the same direction as him, and he's snapped out of his daze.

"Nothing. What do you say?"

She bites her bottom lip and lightly points her thumb at the crowd behind him. "There's going to be lots of staring."

"I'm no stranger to having eyes on me," Fiyero says.

Being a prince unfortunately doesn't guarantee any sort of privacy or sense of normalcy, especially when he's home. This is the first time in a while that he hasn't arrived somewhere and was instantly swarmed by a crowd of people and reporters. And it was nice.

"I suppose I'm not either. Though probably not to your extent."

His heart quickens. "You know who I am?"

"Is that so surprising?"

"I guess not, it's just…" then she probably has a good idea about him in his head, and it's probably not a good one. No wonder she has her guard up.

"I've had the press write stories about me too, don't worry."

That catches him off guard. "Wh - really?"

She nods. "My father's the governor of Munchkinland. Everyone wants to know about what life is like inside his mansion and how he 'handles me'. Not to mention the countless theories about how this happened," she raises her hand.

"I'm sorry. That's awful."

"Not your fault."

"Nor yours."

She laughs softly and it's a beautiful sound. She tucks a loose strand of hair behind her ear. "Thanks."

"If it makes you feel any better, I actually haven't read or heard any of that. I try to avoid reading what the press prints and says as much as I can."

"Maybe I should try that," she smiled softly and for a couple seconds, all Fiyero can do is smile back.

"'Governor of Munchkinland'," he recalls. "Governor Trope?"

"Thropp," she corrects.

"Right," Fiyero chuckles. "Sorry, I don't really keep up with neighboring countries as much as I should."

"Not the best thing for a future king," she teases.

And this time, Fiyero does look down for more than a second to hide his blush. "I'm working on it, I swear."

"That's good."

"Will you ever give me an answer?"

"Right," she says and uncrosses her legs. It seems she forgot for a second that he asked her to go to the dance with him. "If I ask you a question, will you answer me honestly?"

"Absolutely," he swears.

She picks at the corners of her book a bit more then stands up from the bench, smoothing out her blue skirt before facing him. She's only a couple inches shorter than Fiyero. "Why do you want to go with me?"

Fiyero chuckles. "You'll think I'm shallow."

"We'll see," she hugs her book to her chest and looks at him expectantly.

Fiyero bites his lip and shoves his slightly trembling hands into his pockets. "I think you're gorgeous."

Her mouth parts a bit and her shoulders sag.

"I…" Fiyero runs a hand through his hair. "You just…I couldn't keep my eyes off of you since I got here."

"You sure it's not because of…anything else?"

"No," he knows what she's asking, and that's not it at all. "I like you," he smiles. "And I think we'll have a good time together."

She nods and she looks like she's seriously considering it.

"I can't dance, you know?"

"Not a problem," Fiyero says and he puts his hand out.

She looks down at it then back at him. Fiyero motions to his hand and she tentatively takes it, keeping her book to her chest with her other hand.

Her hand fits well in his, and it's soft.

Fiyero slowly raises their joined hands and starts to move them behind her. She seems to understand and smiles at the ground. She lets Fiyero lead as he gives her a whirl. Her skirt flares and lightly brushes against his pants.

"See, you're a natural," Fiyero says, not letting go of her hand.

"I hardly think a turn is enough for tonight."

Fiyero's smile widens. "So is that a yes?" Oz, please let it be a yes.

She purses her lips, trying to hide a smile, but in the end she smiles wide enough to show her teeth. "Well…it is a school night."

"I'm not above begging."

She laughs and squeezes his hand. She sighs and looks at him. Her cheeks have a faint blush on them and it makes him happy.

"Ok. Yes."

Fiyero smiles. She said yes! "So I'll pick you up at 8?"

"Do you even know where I live?"

"Good call," he chuckles and pulls out a pen and the first piece of paper he sees from his bag. "You can write down your address here."

"It's just your first day here, do you think you'll be able to find it?" she asks as she writes down her address, using her book to have something hard to write on.

"I'm going to the Ozdust with the prettiest girl at Shiz; I'll find it."

He catches her playfully rolling her eyes and then she folds the sheet of paper in half before handing it back to him. "You better get going, your next class is about to start," she says, motioning to the paper which Fiyero just now realizes is his class schedule.

"Oh," he sees a politics class listed on the bottom half of the page. "Did you catch if we have any classes together?"

She shrugs. "Go to class tomorrow and we'll see."

Fiyero chuckles. "Alright. But I'll see you tonight, right?"

"Yes," she nods. She glances at the clock and starts to walk backwards. "I need to go too."

"Bye," Fiyero gives her a small wave, not taking his eyes off of her, and he likes the fact that she hasn't turned around yet. She's still walking backwards and keeping her own eyes on him.

"Bye," she almost whispers and, after a couple more seconds, turns around and starts walking fast to a building across the sidewalk.

Fiyero forces himself to take his eyes off her retreating figure to look down at the paper. He unfolds it and finds the name of the building along with the apartment number written down. And her name.

"Elphaba," Fiyero says. And he can't help but say it a couple more times to himself.

He looks up and she's gone, most likely already inside the building. He should really get to class.

And no need to worry. He'll see her tonight.

There's a video of a musical gala at Dortmund, Germany and in it was a Wicked medley where there's a transition from "Dancing Through Life" to "As Long As You're Mine", so Elphaba is already on stage watching Fiyero and towards the end he reaches his hand out to her asking her to dance and UGH.

I. Swooned. And this was born.

Hope y'all liked it, tell me what you thought :)