Chapter Text
Elphaba slams her palm against the steering wheel, her frustration strong as she looks out at the pouring rain. The droplets streak across the windshield, blurring her view of the empty parking lot. She pulls her hoodie tighter over her shoulders, the chill of the rain sinking into her skin, reminding her how little she was prepared for a car breakdown in this weather.
“Of course this happens now ,” she mutters bitterly, eyeing the gym doors as if someone could magically come to her rescue.
Her mind races through the options: call a tow truck? Wait in the rain? It’s not like she had a lot of options, especially not in the middle of a downpour with nothing but her workout gear to shield her from the elements.
The silence of the car is broken by her phone vibrating in the cupholder—likely a friend texting, but she doesn’t have the energy to even look. What could they possibly say that would make this better?
With a sigh, Elphaba leans back in the seat, letting her head fall against the headrest as she stares up at the dark, cloud-filled sky. This always seems to be how it goes for her—just when she thinks she’s in the clear, life throws another curveball.
The tow truck rumbled down the road, the heavy rain tapping steadily against the truck's roof. Elphaba sat in the passenger seat, her arms crossed tightly over her chest, but there was a small relief settling in her chest now that she was finally on her way to the shop. The tension she’d been carrying all afternoon was starting to loosen, if only a little.
Greg had the kind of warmth in his voice that made you feel like you’d known him for years, and his easy smile put her at ease, even if she was still feeling a little self-conscious about her situation. She glanced at him, trying not to let her curiosity about him show too much. His stories about his wife were almost too perfect, the kind that made you wonder if they were real or some sort of romanticized fairy tale.
"You two sound like you’ve got something special," Elphaba said quietly, a small smile tugging at the corners of her lips as she looked out the window.
Greg chuckled softly, his hands steady on the wheel. "Yeah, we’ve had our ups and downs, like everyone. But there’s something about her... I love her just as much now as I did the day I first met her."
The sincerity in his words hit Elphaba harder than she expected. She hadn’t even realized she was longing for something like that—a love that could stand the test of time, something simple and solid. It was like hearing a story of a dream she wasn’t sure was even possible for her. She glanced at her phone for a moment, considering texting a friend or checking social media, but stopped herself.
Why would I bother? she thought. The last thing I want to do is get sucked into that cycle of feeling like I’m missing out.
Her thoughts were interrupted by Greg’s voice again, more curious than anything.
"So... not to be rude, but I gotta ask," he began. "What's with the... green skin? I’ve never seen anything like it."
Elphaba tensed, just slightly, her fingers tightening around her purse as she considered how to respond. She had dealt with questions like this before—people who were curious but never knew how to ask without sounding insensitive.
"I get that a lot," she said, taking a deep breath. "It’s genetic, actually. It’s something called chlorosis ... sort of like a rare condition. It makes my skin green. Doesn’t hurt or anything, just how I’ve always looked."
Greg nodded, his eyes glancing over to her briefly before returning to the road. There was no trace of disgust or surprise on his face—just a genuine interest.
"Huh, that's something," he said thoughtfully. "But you don't let it hold you back, huh?"
Elphaba couldn’t help but let out a small laugh, feeling something shift in her. “I try not to. But yeah, it can be hard sometimes.”
“I bet,” he said, his voice softening. “But you seem like you’ve got a good head on your shoulders. I’m sure you’re doing just fine.”
Elphaba smiled faintly, her heart giving a little tug. Doing just fine was a sentiment she wasn’t sure she agreed with most of the time, but hearing it from him—someone who didn’t know her—felt oddly comforting.
The rain started to let up a bit as they neared the shop, the dark clouds parting slightly to let in some weak light. The world outside seemed a little less heavy, a little more bearable, just like the way Greg had lightened the mood during their drive.
“Here we are," Greg said, turning into a small, no-frills mechanic’s lot. "You’ll be taken care of here. I’ll make sure they get you squared away."
"Thanks, Greg. You’ve been a lifesaver," Elphaba said with a sincere smile.
He returned it with a nod. "Anytime. And hey," he added, glancing at her before she opened the truck door, "don’t let the world make you think you’re not deserving of that fairy tale kind of love. It’s out there for people who are brave enough to keep looking."
Elphaba froze for a moment, her hand on the door handle. A fairy tale kind of love? She didn’t expect that kind of encouragement, but there it was, simple and real, just like the man himself.
"Thanks," she said softly, before stepping out of the truck.
As she walked toward the shop, she felt a strange mixture of gratitude and something deeper, like a crack in her own armor had opened just a little bit. For the first time in a while, she let herself wonder if maybe she was not too far away from something like that.
She walks in and sees a hands on a man writing on a clipboard.
“Hello! I’ll be with you-“ he looked up and time seemed to stop for both of them. He was very handsome. Brown hair, beautiful eyes, tall, and muscular. He had a smile to die for also.
He walked up to her.
“Hello there. My name is Fiyero.”
“I’m Elphaba. Nice to meet you.” She said with a smile.
He grabbed her hand and softly kissed it. Elphaba tried to regain her composure, her pulse quickening despite herself. She wasn’t used to being flustered, especially not by someone like him . He was clearly confident, charming in a way that made her feel suddenly self-conscious, like she was the one being sized up rather than the other way around. Still, she couldn’t help but appreciate the way he held her hand—tender but sure, and the way his lips had brushed her skin... it sent a shiver down her spine.
Fiyero straightened up, his eyes lingering on hers for just a beat longer than necessary. "I’m sorry," he said with a teasing smile,
"I couldn’t resist. You’ve got that look about you—the kind that deserves a little extra attention."
She raised an eyebrow, trying to mask her surprise with a smirk. "Oh, really? And what look is that?"
He leaned in slightly, his smile widening. "The kind that doesn’t get too many compliments, I bet," he said with a wink, clearly enjoying the effect he was having on her. "I’d say it’s about time you get the recognition you deserve."
Elphaba blinked, trying to steady her thoughts. His confidence was almost unnerving, but strangely, it was also refreshing. Most men, especially in a place like this, wouldn’t go out of their way to make her feel seen . And yet, there was something about him that didn’t make her feel different or out of place. It was disarming.
“I’m sure you say that to all the girls,” she joked, but even she could hear the faint trace of nervousness in her voice.
Fiyero let out a light, melodic laugh. "Not exactly," he said, glancing at her with a hint of mischief still in his eyes. "But I don’t meet many girls who can pull off green like you do."
Elphaba felt her heart flutter again, a combination of surprise and something she couldn’t quite name. She had always been self-conscious about her skin—she had dealt with a lifetime of curious stares and awkward comments, but here, with him... it felt different. Like it wasn’t something to hide but something to be embraced.
"You're not like the others, huh?" she said softly, trying to keep the mood light. "You don’t mind the green?"
Fiyero raised an eyebrow, his smile never faltering. "Mind it? Not at all. Honestly, it’s refreshing to see someone who’s not trying to look like everyone else."
The words were so genuine that Elphaba was momentarily stunned. It was rare to find someone who didn’t just tolerate her differences, but actually seemed to appreciate them. Her lips parted in surprise before she could stop herself. "Thank you," she said, the words coming out softer than she expected.
He waved it off, leaning against the workbench with that same relaxed demeanor. "No need to thank me. You’ve got a good vibe about you, Elphaba. That’s all that matters."
A comfortable silence lingered between them for a moment, before Fiyero glanced at her car, then back at her, as if realizing they weren’t here to chat about her looks—or his flirtations. He cleared his throat, the playful edge in his voice returning. "So, what’s the verdict? You want me to get that car running for you, or should I just start planning our second date?"
Elphaba blinked, a slight laugh escaping her lips. "Second date?" she repeated, raising an eyebrow in amusement.
He leaned in slightly, his grin widening. "Well, if you’re going to leave me with all this charm, I think I deserve a little more than just a 'thanks' when I get that car running."
Elphaba couldn’t help but laugh at that. “You’ve got a lot of confidence, I’ll give you that. But let’s not get ahead of ourselves, Mr. Fiyero.”
He chuckled, clearly enjoying the back-and-forth. "I can dial it down," he said with a wink, "but I don’t usually make it a habit of letting pretty girls walk out without giving them a proper send-off."
“Hmm,” she said, tilting her head and giving him a teasing look, “you’re a smooth talker, I’ll give you that.”
He raised his hands in mock surrender, his blue eyes gleaming with humor. “Guilty as charged.”
The back-and-forth between them felt effortless, and for a moment, Elphaba forgot all about the nerves she usually carried with her when meeting someone new. There was something easy about this banter, something light , like they weren’t trapped in expectations or assumptions.
Fiyero walked over to her car, clapping his hands together as if to get himself in gear. "Alright, I’m going to take a look under the hood," he said, grinning back at her. "You sit tight. I’ll have it fixed up in no time."
Elphaba nodded, watching him walk toward her car with a little more appreciation than she’d intended. She hadn’t expected her day to go like this—meeting someone who didn’t treat her like a curiosity, someone who didn’t shy away from her color but made her feel... well, normal .
Maybe it was just a good first impression. Maybe she was getting carried away by his charm, but there was something different about Fiyero. As he got to work, his easy confidence and warmth made her feel less alone in a world that sometimes seemed a little too focused on what made her different.
Elphaba sat down on the small bench by the counter, trying to act casual as she waited. But deep down, she couldn’t shake the thought that maybe—just maybe—this mechanic was going to be someone to remember
“So Fiyero, how long have you been working on cars?” Elphaba asked.
Fiyero couldn't help but laugh, the sound rich and genuine as he gave Elphaba a sideways glance. She’s not like the others, he thought, nodding to himself as he leaned over the hood of the car, continuing to work while still keeping the conversation flowing.
"You know," he said, wiping his hands on a rag, "you’d be surprised how often people forget that I’m actually good at what I do. It’s always ‘Hey, handsome, fix my car,’ or ‘How much for your number?’ It gets... predictable."
Elphaba chuckled, raising an eyebrow. "I bet. It must be exhausting after a while."
"Exhausting doesn’t even cover it," Fiyero said with a grin, but there was a warmth in his tone that suggested he didn’t mind so much—at least not all the time. "It’s flattering at first, sure, but when you get it day after day, it just starts feeling... shallow."
She tilted her head slightly, her eyes narrowing playfully. "So, what you’re saying is, you're not as into the flirty customers?"
Fiyero's grin deepened. "Exactly. Flirting gets old when it’s the same line over and over. And when people are married? Yeah, I’m not trying to end up in the middle of a domestic situation." He paused, his voice softening, the humor still there, but with a touch of sincerity.
“So, it’s nice to have someone actually want to talk. Someone who’s here for something other than just a mechanic with a smile."
Elphaba smirked, her lips curving into a faint smile as she leaned back in her chair, arms casually crossed.
“Well, you are human. And while you are handsome," she added with a teasing glint in her eye, "I’m sure there’s more to you than just looks."
Fiyero blinked at her for a moment, then laughed, a little surprised but in a good way. Well, now that’s a first , he thought, taking a moment to let her words settle. Most people, especially women, either fell into a predictable routine of flirtation or played it safe by avoiding his looks altogether. But here she was—acknowledging the obvious, but not dwelling on it, not letting it define him.
"I like that you don’t beat around the bush," he said, his tone lighter now.
“You're right. There is more to me than looks. I guess that’s why I’m still working on cars, huh?"
Elphaba’s lips quirked up, a small, knowing smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. "Well, I hope it’s more than just looks. Cars need brains, not just brawn."
He raised an eyebrow at her, a playful spark lighting up his dark eyes. "Ah, so you do know a thing or two about cars, huh?"
She shrugged, leaning forward with a glint of mischief in her eyes. "I know enough to recognize when someone’s just faking it. And you don’t seem like the type to fake anything."
Fiyero blinked, genuinely caught off guard. She’s sharp, he thought, his respect for her growing in subtle increments. "I like you," he said, grinning again. "You’re different. Not many people would notice that. Most just want to get their car fixed and move on."
"Well," she said, her tone soft but pointed, "I'm not most people."
And there it was again— the difference. Fiyero leaned back against the workbench, a thoughtful expression crossing his face. There was something about Elphaba that made him feel comfortable in a way that he hadn’t felt with anyone in a long time. Maybe it was how easily she saw through the usual pretenses people put up, or maybe it was the way she didn’t make him feel like a commodity, just another handsome mechanic to fawn over.
There was a long beat of silence between them, as if both of them were quietly weighing this strange connection, trying to place it.
Finally, Fiyero broke the silence, his voice quieter now, almost as though he was letting his guard down just a little more. "So, how long have you been dealing with people... like that ?" He gestured vaguely, a hint of his earlier frustration resurfacing as he worked on the car.
Elphaba looked down at her hands for a moment, thinking. "Pretty much my whole life," she said, her voice steady, though the slight weariness in her words was there. "It’s one thing to get curious questions. It’s another to get treated like you’re... not even human."
Fiyero gave her a long, understanding look. He’d dealt with his own share of assumptions and expectations—he knew how it felt to be judged, to be seen as one thing and one thing only. He ran a hand through his hair, his grin fading into something softer.
"You’re not just 'not human,'" he said gently, his eyes steady on hers. "You’re more human than a lot of people I’ve met."
Elphaba raised an eyebrow, not sure how to respond at first. But when she caught the sincerity in his gaze, something inside her softened. No one had ever said that to her—not like that.
"Thanks," she said quietly, her voice almost a whisper.
Fiyero gave her a small smile in return, one that didn’t seem forced or like he was trying to charm her. It was simply... kind. "You’re welcome."
As he went back to work on the car, Elphaba found herself staring at him for a moment, reflecting on the unusual feeling that had settled in her chest. For the first time in a long while, she didn’t feel the need to guard herself or put up walls. Maybe it was the genuine curiosity he’d shown, or maybe it was just the way he had made her feel seen—just as she was.
Whatever it was, she realized that, for once, she wasn’t ready for the conversation to end.
Elphaba sat quietly, listening intently as Fiyero worked. The sound of his hands on her car’s engine created a rhythm, but his voice was what truly captured her attention. He was talking in a way that didn’t feel rehearsed or forced—just open, honest, and real.
“I’ve been a mechanic for 7 years,” he continued, his voice carrying over the hum of the engine. "Ever since I turned 18, my dream was always to work on cars. I like working with my hands, fixing things, and getting dirty. My family, though? They detest it. They're the ‘stuffy and uppity’ type, and they thought I was going to go off to some big university and have fancy degrees like my siblings did. To them, being a mechanic is ‘beneath us,’ as they say. Which is funny because… who fixes their expensive cars?” He chuckled to himself. “But I digress.”
Elphaba leaned forward slightly, genuinely curious. "Sounds like you had some pretty high expectations to live up to."
"Yeah," Fiyero replied, his tone light but there was an edge to it, like he had grown used to talking about this, but it still stung. "I did great in high school, but I’m just not college material. People think it’s all about getting a degree, but it actually takes a lot of math to be a mechanic. I get what I need to get done, but I do it my way, and I’m good at it."
Elphaba couldn’t help but smile. The way he spoke with such conviction about his own path—it was refreshing, and she could tell he wasn’t looking for validation from anyone else. "So, you never bought into the ‘college is the only way’ narrative?"
"Nope," he said with a smile in his voice. "One day, I’d like to open my own shop. Something that’s mine. I want that freedom, y’know? And I like knowing that if I ever had a family, I could support us. Degrees don’t always equal jobs." He paused, and his tone shifted just a bit. "I’m the black sheep, and I’m okay with that. I just want a simple life. If your family’s willing to dump you because of your dreams, then that’s not family.”
Elphaba’s heart swelled at his words, a twinge of understanding in her chest. She had always been an outsider too, never quite fitting in, whether because of her skin or the way she approached life. But here, with Fiyero, she didn’t feel so alone in that. He got it. He understood the weight of following your own path, even when it meant breaking away from the expectations others had for you.
"You know," she said after a beat, her voice soft but steady, "I can relate to that. My family’s always had a very specific idea of who I’m supposed to be. But it’s hard to be that person when you don’t feel like you’re you ." She shrugged, trying to keep it light, but the honesty of the moment lingered. "I’ve spent a lot of time trying to prove myself in ways that didn’t feel true to who I am."
Fiyero looked up from under the hood of the car, meeting her gaze with an expression that was both empathetic and understanding. He paused for a moment before saying, "It’s tough, right? Trying to please people who aren’t even going to see you for who you really are. At the end of the day, you have to be the one to live your life."
"Exactly," Elphaba agreed. "And I’m so tired of trying to fit into their version of what I should be."
He smiled then, the warmth in his eyes more than just a passing expression. "Well, I think you’re doing just fine as you ."
The compliment caught her off guard, and she found herself unexpectedly grateful for the way he made her feel in that moment. Like she wasn’t just tolerated or accepted, but seen for who she was, flaws and all.
She watched him finish the work on her car, his hands sure and confident, and she couldn’t help but admire him. There was something inspiring about someone who wasn’t afraid to stand firm in their own choices, to carve out their own path—even if that path wasn’t what others expected.
“So,” she said after a pause, “you said you want to open your own shop one day, huh? I think that’s great. I mean, there’s something about working for yourself that seems... freeing."
Fiyero nodded, wiping his hands on a rag before looking over at her. "It is. It’s my dream, actually. To build something from the ground up that’s truly mine. And maybe, someday, I’ll be able to pass it on to someone else. A legacy, you know?"
Elphaba smiled softly, a thought crossing her mind that made her feel more connected to him than she had in a long while. "Sounds like you’ve got a clear vision for your future."
He smiled back, his eyes lighting up at the mention of his goal. "I do. It’s not the same as what my family wanted for me, but it’s mine, and it’s real. That’s all I need."
Elphaba’s heart warmed at his words. It wasn’t just about being different—it was about finding something that meant something to you, something that made you feel alive. And Fiyero, in that moment, was more than just a guy fixing her car. He was someone who had figured out how to live authentically. He wasn’t trying to be anyone but who he was, and that was... rare.
"I hope you get that shop," she said, her voice soft but full of sincerity. "You deserve it."
"Thanks," he said, his smile genuine. "And maybe when I do, I’ll name it after someone who inspired me. A mechanic with a dream." He shot her a wink, and her heart fluttered again, a warmth spreading through her chest.
Elphaba laughed, the tension in her body finally releasing. "Well, if that shop happens, you better make sure it’s good . I might have to drop by for a visit."
"You won’t just be visiting," he said with a mischievous grin. "You’ll be one of my first customers."
The lighthearted banter between them continued, but Elphaba couldn’t shake the feeling that, for the first time in a long while, she wasn’t alone in her search for something real. Fiyero had built something that was entirely his, and maybe—just maybe—she was starting to realize that it wasn’t about being perfect or fitting into someone else’s mold. It was about finding your own place, and learning to stand firm in it.
And as Fiyero worked on her car, making small talk, laughing, and occasionally throwing her a wink, she realized that sometimes, the people you least expect might just end up showing you what it means to be truly free.
Elphaba paused, feeling a little self-conscious about the flood of information she'd just shared. It wasn’t like her to open up so much, but for some reason, with Fiyero, the words just seemed to flow easily. She hadn’t even realized how much she’d said until she stopped to take a breath.
“Well, I’m in college getting my master’s in accounting,” she continued, still trying to gather her thoughts. “I want to be, well… an accountant. Especially for taxes and stuff. I just love numbers. I know, it sounds boring, but there’s something about it that makes sense to me. I guess I like things that add up .” She chuckled, but there was a hint of something more behind the humor—a soft pride in her path, a quiet sense of purpose.
“But that doesn’t mean I don’t have a life outside of numbers,” she added with a smile. “I play the piano, sing a little, work at the homeless shelter now and then, read to kids with cancer... and I love to cook. Oh, and I go to the gym a lot. That's actually where I was coming from when my car decided to die on me.” She let out a small laugh at the irony, shrugging her shoulders as if it were all just another part of the day.
Fiyero’s eyes widened slightly as he took in everything she’d just shared. He hadn’t expected such a rich, full life behind those green eyes. She didn’t just exist in a world of academic aspirations; she was clearly someone who lived —who gave, who cared, who balanced her ambitions with actions that made a real difference in the world.
And her laugh—it had caught him off guard. It was warm, genuine, and somehow, it made the whole space feel brighter, more alive. He could feel his heart lift at the sound of it, something about it so disarmingly beautiful and carefree that it made his own chest feel lighter.
“I… wow,” Fiyero said, his voice a little softer now, more thoughtful. “I’m honestly impressed, Elphaba. You do all of that, and you’re in grad school? That’s pretty incredible.” He couldn’t hide the admiration in his voice. “Most people I know just focus on school or work, but you—” He shook his head, still processing everything she had just said. “You’ve got such a full life. And, honestly, that laugh of yours... I could hear it all day.”
Elphaba felt her cheeks flush at his compliment, but she was glad it was dark enough in the shop that he couldn’t see the sudden color in her face. "I didn’t mean to sound like I’m bragging or anything," she said quickly, her voice a little shy now. "I just… well, I like doing things that keep me busy. I don’t like sitting still for too long. Plus, when I see people who need help, I just can’t ignore it."
Fiyero looked at her, his expression a mixture of admiration and something else—something softer. "I get that. You’ve got a lot of heart, Elphaba. I respect that."
Her chest warmed at his words, the sincerity in his voice something that she hadn’t heard in a long time. Most people saw her as an enigma, a curiosity—something to be studied or speculated about. But here, in this moment, she felt like he was seeing her for who she truly was: a person who gave a damn, who tried to make things better, even when life hadn’t always been kind.
"I’m not perfect," she said with a half-smile, trying to lighten the mood again. "But I’m trying."
Fiyero grinned, a glint of mischief in his blue eyes. "Well, if ‘trying’ looks like that, then I’d say you’re doing just fine."
Elphaba laughed, feeling a little more at ease now. The air between them had shifted from the weight of serious conversation to something lighter, but it didn’t feel shallow. She didn’t feel like she was being judged or categorized. With him, it was just... real . And it felt good.
"So," she said, after a beat, "how about you? What’s your life outside of cars and fixing broken-down vehicles? I mean, I know you’ve got big dreams of your own with the shop, but do you have any hobbies or things you like to do just for fun?"
Fiyero leaned back against the workbench, his arms crossed, looking thoughtful for a moment. "Well, if I’m not fixing something, I’m usually out doing something outdoors. I love hiking—getting lost in nature, y’know? It’s like a reset button for me. And I’ve got a bit of a thing for photography. I’ve been meaning to get more into it, but lately, it’s just been work, work, work. Maybe once I get my shop going, I’ll have more time to play with a camera."
Elphaba raised an eyebrow, surprised. "Photography? That’s interesting. I would’ve never guessed."
Fiyero shrugged, a small smile tugging at his lips. "Most people don’t. But it’s a way for me to capture moments—kinda like fixing cars, you know? I get to look at something that’s broken, and I get to make it whole again, just in a different way. It’s kind of my therapy."
Elphaba was quiet for a moment, mulling over what he’d said. It made sense. She hadn’t expected Fiyero to be so introspective about something like photography, but it gave her a deeper understanding of him. He was someone who took broken things—whether it was a car or a moment—and found a way to restore them.
“I like that,” she said softly. “It sounds like something I could get into.”
Fiyero looked at her with a small grin. “Well, maybe I could teach you sometime. If you ever want to try it out.”
Elphaba’s heart skipped a beat. The idea of spending time with him—learning something new, something creative—sounded like exactly the kind of thing she needed. She smiled, the idea already feeling comforting. “Maybe I will.”
They shared a quiet, comfortable moment, the hum of the shop and the soft rhythm of the rain outside filling the silence between them.
For the first time in a long while, Elphaba didn’t feel like she was standing on the edge, like everything in her life was a balancing act between chaos and control. In this small, unexpected place with Fiyero, it felt like things were just… right . And maybe, just maybe, she could finally allow herself to believe that something good could happen for her
“So Elphaba, what’s your family like?”
Elphaba took a slow breath, the question hitting her in a place she didn't always like to go. Her father, her family—those were the parts of her past that she tried to bury deep down, under layers of busy work and the comfort of isolation. But something about Fiyero made her want to share, to finally speak the truth without fear of judgment.
“My mother passed away when I was young,” she began quietly, staring down at her hands. “My dad... can’t stand me. I don’t think he ever really wanted me around. The whole ‘me being green’ thing didn't sit well with him.” She let out a soft, almost humorless laugh. “My mom had an affair, and well, here I am. He’s never been able to look at me the same after that. He only cares about the appearance of a happy family, not the reality.”
Fiyero was silent, giving her space to continue, if she wanted. His expression was gentle, understanding. She glanced up at him, his blue eyes full of compassion, but not pity. It made it easier to speak, to keep going.
“He’s all about keeping up the perfect image. To him, I’m just a reminder of a past he’d rather forget. I’m the living proof of a mistake he never forgave.” She shrugged, as if it didn’t matter, though deep down it still stung. “I’ve never been good enough for him. But that’s okay. I stopped trying a long time ago.”
Fiyero’s eyes darkened with something close to anger, but he didn’t voice it. Instead, he took a slow step closer, like he was grounding himself in the moment, trying to match her unspoken pain.
“I’m sorry, Elphaba,” he said softly, as if the words themselves couldn’t make up for everything she’d just shared. “No one should have to feel like that. Like they’re not wanted because of who they are. And especially not by their own family.”
Her heart twisted, a bitter laugh bubbling in her throat. “I guess that’s the way it goes, huh? People make assumptions about who you are, based on things you can’t control—like my appearance. And then they let it dictate everything about how they treat you.”
Fiyero shook his head, frustration creeping into his voice. “That’s wrong. No one should have the power to decide that for you. Not your dad, not anyone. If they can’t accept you for who you are, that’s their loss, not yours.”
She looked at him, surprised by the fierceness in his tone. It was something she hadn’t expected. He wasn’t just being kind or polite; he was genuinely upset by what she was saying. It made her feel a little less alone in this world, even if just for a moment.
“I never wanted his approval,” Elphaba admitted quietly. “I mean, it’d be nice, but I’ve stopped expecting it a long time ago. It’s just... harder when it’s family, you know? I’ve always had to prove myself. I’ve spent my life trying to be enough for everyone else, even when I’m not sure what ‘enough’ looks like.”
Fiyero stood there for a moment, processing her words, before speaking again—this time with a quiet, but deep sincerity. “You are enough, Elphaba. Just as you are. And anyone who doesn’t see that... well, they’re the ones who are blind.”
Elphaba blinked at him, his words catching her off guard. She wasn’t used to hearing this kind of thing, especially not from someone who didn’t owe her anything. It was... refreshing. And maybe a little terrifying, too. Because, in that moment, she realized that Fiyero saw her—not the person she pretended to be, not the image she tried to maintain, but the real her. And that scared her more than anything.
“Thank you,” she whispered, almost to herself, but loud enough for him to hear. She wasn’t sure what else to say. She wasn’t sure how to explain how much his words meant, how much they made her want to believe in herself again.
Fiyero gave her a small, understanding smile. “No problem. I mean it, Elphaba. You deserve better than the way you’ve been treated. And I can tell you’re not the kind of person who’s going to let anyone hold you back.”
She exhaled softly, the weight of everything she had said suddenly feeling a little lighter. Fiyero’s words had cracked open something inside her that she hadn’t even realized was there—a desire to let go of the chains she’d been holding onto for so long. Maybe it was time to stop letting her past define her.
“You’re right,” she said, almost to herself, then looked up at him with a small, tentative smile. “Maybe it’s time I stopped carrying this weight around. For once.”
“Your boyfriend must be proud to have a strong woman in his life.” Fiyero gave a smile.
Fiyero's smile faded as Elphaba spoke, the sadness in her tone hitting him harder than he expected. Her words hung in the air for a moment before he processed them fully.
“I’m single,” she continued, her voice soft but firm, like she had already come to terms with the reality. “He cheated on me. We were together for four years.”
Fiyero’s chest tightened in empathy. The way she spoke about it—it wasn’t the kind of pain that screamed for attention, but the kind that was buried under layers of self-protection. He couldn’t imagine the hurt she’d been through, but something about her story felt familiar. His mind drifted to his own past, a recent heartbreak that still stung, even if he’d tried to bury it.
He felt bad for her, of course, but there was something else, too—he understood . The sharp pain of betrayal, the shock of realizing someone you trusted, someone you thought you knew, wasn’t who you thought they were. He had felt that just a few months ago. It still burned.
“I’m really sorry, Elphaba,” Fiyero said quietly, his tone sincere. He meant it. “That’s... that’s rough. No one deserves that. Especially not after being with someone for that long.”
She met his gaze, her eyes soft, as though the simple acknowledgment of her pain was something she hadn’t heard in a long time. “Yeah, it was.” She let out a small, almost defeated sigh. “I thought I had everything figured out, you know? Four years— that felt like a long time. But... I guess I was wrong.”
Fiyero nodded slowly, trying to think of something comforting to say, but not wanting to offer platitudes. “You weren’t wrong, Elphaba,” he said gently. “It’s not about how long you’re together. It’s about trust. And he broke that. That’s on him, not you.”
Her eyes seemed to flicker with something between relief and doubt. Maybe it was easier to say it than to believe it, but hearing him say it out loud, in such a calm and unflinching way, seemed to make the weight on her chest feel a little lighter.
Fiyero took a small step closer, his voice low and steady. “I know what that feels like. I went through something similar not too long ago. I get it. The betrayal. The questioning. It’s tough.”
Elphaba blinked, surprised by his honesty. “Really?”
He nodded, his jaw tightening just slightly as he let the memory flash through his mind. “Yeah. My ex... she cheated too. And it’s hard not to feel like you’re somehow to blame, right? Like there’s something wrong with you, or you weren’t enough.” He looked down for a second, running a hand through his hair, the familiar ache still lingering despite how much time had passed. "But it’s not you. It was never you."
For a moment, they both stood in silence. Two people connected by the shared hurt of betrayal, of feeling like they gave their all, only to have it thrown back in their faces. It was a pain no one wanted to carry, but in a way, it felt like they were both starting to unload a little of it, together.
Finally, Elphaba spoke, her voice softer, but steadier than before. “It’s hard to trust again after something like that, you know?”
Fiyero nodded, his eyes meeting hers. “Yeah, it is. But you don’t have to rush into anything. Take your time. If someone’s worth your trust, they’ll prove it to you, not make you wonder if it’s safe to give it.”
She gave him a small, appreciative smile, her posture shifting slightly as if she was letting herself relax a little more in his presence. “Thanks, Fiyero. I... appreciate you saying that.”
He smiled back, the warmth in his expression genuine. “You’re welcome. You deserve to be treated right, Elphaba. Don’t let anyone make you doubt that.”
The connection between them felt even stronger now—something unspoken, but deeply understood. Both had been through the sting of betrayal, but maybe, just maybe, talking about it with someone who understood could help ease the scars.
"You're stronger than you think," Fiyero added softly. "I know you don’t feel like it right now, but you will be."
Elphaba exhaled, the heaviness in her chest loosening just a little. “I hope so. I really do.”
Elphaba let out an exasperated sigh as she leaned back in her chair, arms crossed, staring at Fiyero with an almost defeated look. "Well, darling, the car needs a new transmission," he said, the news hitting her like a ton of bricks. She groaned inwardly. Sure, she could afford it, but the whole process of car shopping—the negotiations, the paperwork, the feeling of being sold something she didn’t really want—it was enough to make her wish for a more convenient life.
"Oh well," she shrugged, trying to hide her frustration. "I’ve had this car for years, so I guess it’s time to buy a new one."
She was about to stand up and call for a cab, but then it hit her. She had no way of getting home.
She froze for a moment, scanning the small, cluttered shop. She couldn’t just wait here until the repairs were done. She was far from home and wasn’t in the mood for another Uber ride.
Fiyero seemed to sense her dilemma before she had a chance to voice it. He looked over at her with an amused, knowing glint in his eyes. "Well, if you need a ride, I can take you home if you like," he offered casually, almost as if he were reading her mind.
Elphaba blinked at him in surprise. "I was just thinking about that," she admitted, a bit sheepishly. "It’s like you read my mind. Yes, please, if you don’t mind."
Fiyero grinned, a hint of mischief in his eyes. "Maybe I was. Great minds think alike," he smirked, clearly enjoying the moment.
Elphaba felt her face heat up once again, a wave of warmth rushing over her. She quickly looked down, pretending to check her phone, but inside she couldn’t help but smile at the unexpected connection between them. He was confident in a way that was contagious, and she found herself feeling more relaxed around him with each passing second.
"Thanks, Fiyero," she said, still slightly flustered but grateful. "I really appreciate it."
"No problem at all," he said, his smile still lingering. "I’m happy to help. Besides, it gives me a chance to get to know you a little better."
She raised an eyebrow, her playful side coming out. "Is that so?"
"Absolutely," he said, his tone teasing but genuine. "I mean, it’s not every day I get to give a ride to someone as interesting as you."
Her heart skipped a beat, the words catching her off guard. She wasn’t used to being the one who caught attention like this, but with him, it was different. There was a subtle sincerity in his words that made her feel seen—truly seen. She wasn’t just another customer or a passing acquaintance; to him, she felt... special in a way that she hadn’t in a long time.
“Well, in that case,” she said, trying to regain her composure, “I guess I can handle a ride from someone with such great taste in cars." She smirked, her tone light, but the warmth in her chest was unmistakable.
Fiyero chuckled, his eyes lighting up with amusement. "You might just be the first person to ever compliment me on my taste in vehicles." He gestured toward the parking lot, where his truck was parked. "Shall we?"
Elphaba nodded, already feeling her spirits lift a little as she followed him outside. This had been a pretty rough day, but at least she was getting a moment of unexpected kindness. And, maybe, just maybe, it would be the start of something interesting.
Fiyero chuckled softly at her words, the warmth in his voice clear as he teased her. “You always try to look on the bright side, don’t you?”
Elphaba gave a small, almost knowing smirk, eyes glinting with the slightest hint of mischief. “If I don’t... I’ll go insane,” she replied with a sigh, before adding with a light laugh, “And sometimes I stupidly think it’ll pay off.”
His gaze softened as he glanced over at her, hearing the quiet resignation in her voice, but also the defiance— the refusal to let the world turn her cynical . That was something he admired. Fiyero wasn’t sure why he felt so compelled to share his own view of her, but he felt it, as if he had to.
“It’s not stupid at all," he said, his voice gentle but firm. "You're hopeful despite what you’ve been through. That’s admirable."
For a moment, Elphaba just stared at him, blinking as his words sank in. His sincerity wasn’t lost on her. It was rare to meet someone who truly understood the value of staying hopeful, especially in the face of everything she’d been through. She wasn’t used to being complimented in such an honest way, and for a split second, she felt her defenses lower—just a little.
“Wow, that makes me feel better,” she said, her voice quieter now, her heart unexpectedly racing at the kindness in his words. She flashed him a genuine smile, something that felt good to give. Real. Not one of those fake smiles she threw around when she didn’t want people to see the pain.
She was still processing the impact of his words when she felt his hand gently rest on her knee. Her breath caught in her throat, her heart pounding in her chest. The touch was soft, almost hesitant, but it sent a shock of warmth through her, like his kindness had manifested physically. His hand lingered there for a beat too long, not crossing any lines but feeling so close, like he wanted to offer some kind of comfort without saying it out loud.
She glanced at him quickly, her stomach doing an unfamiliar flip. Fiyero was looking ahead, seemingly casual, but there was a certain tenderness to the way his hand was placed. He wasn’t looking for anything more. He wasn’t trying to make a move. It was just... a gesture of kindness, of reassurance.
“Thank you,” she whispered, her voice softer now, almost in disbelief at the simple yet powerful gesture. It wasn’t just his words, it was the unspoken connection between them. "That really means a lot."
He didn’t answer right away, but his smile was enough. It was soft, warm, genuine—like he didn’t need to say anything else because he knew the weight of the moment. She could feel his sincerity, the authenticity radiating from him like a quiet promise.
Elphaba hadn’t expected this. She hadn’t expected someone like him to come into her life, not like this. It wasn’t a grand gesture, but there was something in his kindness—something steady and real—that made her believe, just for a moment, that maybe things could get better.
Fiyero’s hand stayed where it was for a few more seconds before slowly, almost reluctantly, he pulled it back. But Elphaba still felt the warmth linger.
As they pulled up to Elphaba’s house, the streetlights casting long shadows across the quiet road, Fiyero slowed the truck to a stop in front of the small house. He turned the engine off, the soft hum fading into the night air. For a brief moment, neither of them moved, as if the world around them had paused, giving them space to just… exist.
Fiyero felt an odd sense of reluctance settle in. He hadn’t known Elphaba for long, but there was something about her that made him want to spend more time with her. The thought of just walking away now, leaving her alone in the silence of her house, felt strangely difficult. She wasn’t just another person in his life. There was an undeniable connection there, something unspoken but deeply felt.
He shifted in his seat, glancing at her with a shy smile. “Hey, can I give you my number?” he asked, his voice a little unsure.
Elphaba turned toward him, the soft glow of the moonlight illuminating her features, casting a serene glow across her face. Her green eyes brightened as they met his, and for a moment, she seemed to glow even more brightly than the moon itself. Fiyero’s breath caught in his throat. She was stunning, in a way that was hard to describe. It wasn’t just her appearance—it was something in the way she carried herself, the quiet strength in her demeanor. Her skin, her smile, the way her eyes sparkled in the low light… everything about her was captivating.
Her smile softened, and she nodded with a quiet grace. “Of course,” she said, her voice warm. “I’d like that.”
Fiyero’s heart fluttered in his chest, his pulse quickening slightly. He could hardly believe it, but there it was: a chance to talk to her more. To get to know her better. He quickly pulled out his phone, hands a little unsteady as he handed it to her.
She took the phone, her fingers brushing against his as she typed in her number with a focused intensity. She handed it back, and Fiyero felt a small rush of relief and excitement both at once.
“There you go,” she said, her smile still lingering, her eyes soft but full of meaning.
He quickly saved her number, feeling a sense of warmth spread through him. “Thanks,” he said quietly, his voice a little thicker than usual. “I’m really glad we met tonight, Elphaba.”
Her expression shifted, a hint of something deeper passing through her eyes as she looked at him. “Me too,” she said softly, her voice almost like a whisper. “I didn’t expect... any of this. But I’m glad it happened.”
The quiet sincerity of her words settled in the space between them, a comfortable silence. For a moment, neither of them said anything, just sitting in the warmth of the moment.
Finally, Fiyero broke the silence with a light chuckle. “Well, I’m glad I could give you a ride tonight. I’ll definitely be around if you need another one. No more broken-down cars, though, alright?”
Elphaba laughed, a soft sound that was like a breath of fresh air. “I’ll try to keep that in mind.”
As he prepared to drive away, Elphaba opened the door, but before she stepped out, she turned back to him with a smile. “I’ll talk to you soon, Fiyero. Take care.”
He smiled back, his heart warming at the sound of her voice. “You too, Elphaba. I’ll be waiting for your text.”
As she closed the door and walked toward her house, Fiyero lingered for a moment, watching her until she disappeared inside. His mind was still racing, but the fluttering in his chest had settled into something more steady, more hopeful.
This wasn’t just a simple car ride anymore. This was the beginning of something. Something that felt right.
And as he pulled away, he couldn’t help but smile.