A/N: i really hate fiyero lmao
Elphaba's POV
☆
"No! Galind-"
"Shut up! They're going to hear you." He holds my wrist tighter as he tugs me down the hall.
"That's what I was aiming for, you sick, twisted-"
"Shut up!"
"Make me."
He stops for a moment, and whirls around to glare at me. "I will. Don't push it."
I glare back at him, standing my ground. "I'll push it if I want to push it. We both know that was an empty threat."
He releases my wrist and glares at me more. "You better shut your mouth, Thropp."
I cross my arms. "Make. Me."
He smirks, shaking his head. "Alright." In one motion, he sticks his hand in the bucket and flings the substance at me.
"Ow! Damn it!" I cry out. It's water! "Why do you have that?!"
He grins evilly. "Why do you think? Now come on." He grabs my wrist again and pulls me down the halls.
"Where are we going?"
"Stop asking questions."
"If you answered some of them, it'd be easier to'."
He sighs in exasperation, turning to me. "Kiss me."
"No. I'm not falling for that again. How dare you try to take control of how I feel."
He steps closer to me as I step farther away from him. "Elph-"
"No. I'm sick of you. Fling water on me, I don't care. I don't love you. I never will."
His cheeks grow red with rage, and he reaches his hand back into the bucket. I try and dodge the drops of water, but no such luck.
"Just... Fuck off!" I screech. "If this is your way of trying to get someone to kiss you, then you need to rethink your love interests!"
He narrows his eyes at me - but not to cast a spell. "I don't have love interests."
"Then why do you want me to fall in love with you?!" I brush my fingertips against a burnt spot and wince at the immediate stinging.
"So it'd be easier to get you down this damn hallway." He holds onto my wrist once again, and down the hallway we go.
I try to become free of his grasp, but his hold is stronger than I thought.
"Quit struggling, or I'll pour the whole bucket on you."
I tense up, but oblige.
I'm tugged down the halls and out of the girls dormitory. He leads me to the front gates - but we don't exit. He turns a sharp right, and goes through a patch of trees.
The opening is a place I've never been to - maybe a secret, or maybe just the fact that I never cared to explore Shiz. There's a tall building, and we breeze through the humongous front doors.
Fiyero registers my bewilderment. "Welcome to Morrible's office building."
"How come I've never been here before?"
"Because you've never been sent to the head mistress' office for causing trouble. You goody two-shoes." He scoffs.
"I'm not a goody two-shoes, you animal."
"Okay, fine. You're just an overachiever that kisses up, and never gets in trouble, is that it?"
"Oh, shut up."
"You shut up. You're the one in trouble, anyways."
"No, you are. You're forcing me to go to this damn office, you've burnt me several times, and you're just being.. You're being an asshole!"
"Hm, I didn't realize such clean lips could form such foul syllables."
"Don't start that shit with me, Fiyero. You know I have a foul tongue. Deal with it."
"Blasphemy."
"It's not blasphemy, you moron."
"Whatever." He rolls his eyes, continuing to lead me through the office.
We reach two maroon doors, which almost reach the ceiling. There aren't any doorknobs, but with a wave of Fiyero's hand, they open.
After a few attempts, that is.
"You're terrible at sorcery."
He ignores me and we stampede down a dark, windy staircase. When we get to the bottom, where there's very dim light, we spot Morrible.
She sits at her desk, and gapes at us two.
"Tiggular, I didn't expect you to meet my expectations. But I suppose you proved me wrong." She hisses.
Fiyero opens his mouth to shoot back an insult, but no words escape, and he retreats.
"Release me at once!" I bark.
Madame Morrible raises an eyebrow in amusement. "Let her go, will you? The poor child's wrist is probably broken by now."
He releases me, and I rub my wrist in pain. "Feels like it."
"Hm. Unfortunate for you. But I didn't have the Winkie drag you down here for sympathy."
"Then tell me, why did you?"
She laughs, but it isn't warming. It fills the room and echos for what feels like eternity. Chills are sent down my spine as the laughing fades into faint cries.
Fear creeps up, from my toes to the top of my skull. The hairs on my neck stand still and straight. My heart pounds nearly out of my chest.
"You, my pupil," she points a long, slinky finger directly at the point of my nose, "Are here to die."