Re: Edge of a rooftop; defying gravity/scaring himself
The people Fiyero surrounded himself with, was surrounded by, were easily convinced, easily charmed, easily swayed. Everyone sought to impress each other, by acting as if they had nothing at all to prove, but knowing they did. It was a game, you see. A kind of game. But, it was one he was good at. Or, that he had been good at. He'd known, though, from the moment he saw her, that this girl didn't play those games. Either because she couldn't or she didn't want to. It didn't really matter. She was something... real. She demanded real, he felt. She demanded more than a pretty smile and coaxing laugh.
Fiyero didn't know if he could be more. He hoped he could. He'd had inklings. He'd had feelings. But, he didn't know how deep any of it went. He never let himself look. ...Still, tonight felt different and she was different and even if she didn't care, even if she was so unimpressed she could have yawned, she was right there. Right here, actually. Fiyero looked at her, at the green landscape of her face, a little jagged, a little sharp. Not pretty, but still, breathtaking. His eyes followed the curve of her nose, then she said his name.
For a moment, he only blinked at her, still moving thoughtlessly to the music. He knew who she meant. Somehow? He knew who she meant. He knew the idea of her or maybe he knew who she was. When everything was surface, there wasn't much of a difference. A perfect, popular girl, blonde and coiffed, pretty as a peach. No hard lines, pert little nose. "No," he told Elphaba, "I don't."