terms and conditions (mostly unreasonable)
Elphaba should have known that Glinda Upland didn’t take no for an answer.
Not when she wanted something. Not when she had decided something. And certainly not when she had already constructed an entire argument in her head and refused to let the topic die.
And so, here they were, precisely one day later, and Glinda was still going on about it.
“Elphie,” she began, voice smooth and coaxing.
“No.”
She huffed, flipping a page of the Shiz Weekly like it contained the answers to all of her problems.
“Elphieeee.”
“No.”
A long, dramatic sigh. “Fine. I suppose I’ll just have to find someone else to help me, then.”
Elphaba glanced up from her book. “Do that.”
Glinda pursed her lips, twirling a strand of golden hair around her finger. “Maybe I’ll ask Boq.”
Elphaba frowned. “Boq would probably pass out before you got within kissing range.”
Glinda giggled. “True. Oh! What about Avaric? He’s always bragging about how fantastic he is at kissing. I bet he’d be more than happy to—”
“No.”
Glinda grinned. “Oh? So you do care.”
Elphaba scowled. “I don’t. I just don’t want to hear you whining about how insufferable he is when he inevitably takes it as an invitation to flirt with you for the rest of the semester.”
Glinda pouted. “Ugh, you’re right. He would be a nightmare about it.”
Elphaba gave her a smug look.
Glinda brightened again, eyes sparkling. “So you do see why you’re the best option!”
Elphaba groaned, slamming her book shut. “That is not what I said.”
“But it’s what you meant.”
“No.”
Glinda scooted closer. “Elphie, come on. It’s not that serious.”
Elphaba rubbed her temples. “Glinda, do you have any idea how bizarre this is?”
“Of course! That’s why it’s fun.”
“Fun.”
“Yes!”
“For you.”
Glinda beamed. “Exactly! And I know you secretly love when I have fun.”
Elphaba gave her a flat stare. “I do not.”
“Liar.”
Elphaba exhaled sharply, pressing her fingers against the bridge of her nose. “This is ridiculous.”
Glinda clasped her hands together. “Think of it this way: you get to help a fellow student with her academic pursuits.”
“This is not an academic pursuit.”
“I disagree.”
“Glinda—”
“Listen,” Glinda said, suddenly serious, “I just… I need to be good at this. I can’t be mediocre. Not at anything.”
Elphaba hesitated.
That… sounded oddly sincere.
Glinda had a way of making things seem frivolous and lighthearted, but beneath the sparkling laughter and dramatic hand gestures, there was a sharpness to her. A fierceness. Like she needed to be perfect at all times, and the idea of falling short was simply unacceptable.
Elphaba understood that feeling more than she liked to admit.
And maybe that was why, despite all logic and reason, she found herself muttering, “Fine.”
Glinda blinked. “Wait. What?”
Elphaba groaned. “Fine. I’ll do it. Once. And then you’ll shut up about it forever.”
Glinda gasped, eyes lighting up like the Emerald City at night. “Really?!”
Elphaba pinched the bridge of her nose. “Yes, really.”
“Elphie!”
Before Elphaba could react, she was suddenly engulfed in a cloud of pink silk and perfume as Glinda threw herself at her, wrapping her arms around her shoulders.
It was brief—Glinda pulled away almost immediately—but Elphaba still sat there, stunned.
Glinda giggled, bouncing in place. “Oh, this is so exciting! We have to set the rules.”
Elphaba blinked. “Rules?”
“Of course! We can’t just kiss all willy-nilly. We need structure. Guidelines.”
Elphaba sighed, already regretting her decision. “Fine. Rules. What are they?”
Glinda tapped a manicured finger against her lips, thinking. “Okay! First rule: it’s strictly educational.”
Elphaba rolled her eyes. “Obviously.”
“Second rule: no feelings.”
Elphaba snorted. “Not a problem.”
Glinda narrowed her eyes. “Why do you sound so sure about that?”
Elphaba gave her a look. “Because it’s you.”
Glinda gasped. “Rude.”
“Just stating facts.”
“Hmph. Anyway.” Glinda flipped her hair over her shoulder. “Rule number three: you have to give thorough feedback. No grumbling, no vague comments, just honest critique.”
Elphaba hesitated. “… Fine.”
Glinda clapped her hands. “Perfect! Then it’s settled.”
Elphaba groaned. “Unfortunately.”
Glinda giggled. “So! When should we start?”
Elphaba stared at her, deadpan. “Never?”
Glinda pouted. “Elphieeee.”
Elphaba exhaled sharply, glancing at the clock. Might as well get this over with.
“… Now.”
Glinda’s eyes widened. “Oh! So soon?”
Elphaba smirked. “Having second thoughts?”
Glinda scoffed. “Of course not! I just—well, I was expecting more buildup.”
“Well, too bad. This was your idea.”
Glinda hesitated for half a second before quickly smoothing her expression. She sat up straighter, cleared her throat, and nodded. “Alright. Let’s do this.”
Elphaba swallowed. She hadn’t actually expected her to agree so quickly.
Glinda shifted closer, tilting her head slightly. “So… do we just…?”
Elphaba exhaled. “I guess so.”
A beat of silence.
Neither of them moved.
Glinda blinked. “Well, someone has to start.”
Elphaba rolled her eyes. “It was your idea, you start.”
Glinda huffed. “Fine.”
And then—
She leaned in.
Elphaba barely had a second to process it before soft lips brushed against hers.
It was brief—barely more than a fleeting press of warmth—but the moment their mouths met, something inside Elphaba’s brain short-circuited.
And then it was over.
Glinda pulled back, eyebrows furrowing slightly. “Hmm.”
Elphaba blinked. Her entire body felt frozen.
Glinda tapped her chin. “That was… fine. But I think I need to try again.”
Elphaba didn’t even have time to respond before Glinda was leaning in again.
And this time—
It lasted longer.
And for some reason, Elphaba didn’t pull away.