The Kissing Theory

Elphaba Thropp was not an easily flustered person.

She prided herself on logic. On self-control. On being the one person in any given room who could keep her wits about her, even when surrounded by nonsense.

But at that exact moment—

With Glinda Upland’s lips pressed against hers again, impossibly soft and warm—

Elphaba’s brain was completely, entirely, irreversibly blank.

This kiss was different. The first had been a quick, almost clinical test. Just a brush of contact. Barely anything at all.

But this?

Glinda lingered.

It wasn’t deep, not yet, but it was intentional. A slow, deliberate press, as if she were testing something, gauging something.

Elphaba was too stunned to react at first. Her hands stayed awkwardly at her sides, her breath caught in her throat. But then Glinda made a tiny, pleased sound against her lips, and—

Oh.

Oh, no.

Elphaba’s stomach did something strange. Something that felt suspiciously like flipping.

Her brain screamed at her to stop this, to pull away, to put an end to whatever ridiculous experiment Glinda had roped her into—

But then Glinda tilted her head, and—

Oh.

That tiny shift changed everything.

It was a real kiss now, not just an awkward press of mouths. Glinda’s lips moved against hers, soft and testing, and Elphaba—reacted. Not much, just the smallest movement in return, the tiniest press forward.

And then—then—

Glinda’s hand came up, fingers brushing lightly against Elphaba’s jaw, and Elphaba felt an entire spark of something shoot through her spine.

She jolted back immediately.

Too fast.

Too sudden.

Her head slammed against the headboard.

“OW—damn it!”

Glinda gasped. “Oh my Oz! Are you okay?!”

Elphaba winced, reaching up to rub the back of her skull. “Peachy.”

Glinda bit her lip, eyes sparkling with something that definitely wasn’t concern. “You hit your head so hard.”

Elphaba groaned. “Yes, thank you, I noticed.”

Glinda giggled. “Elphie, are you flustered?”

Elphaba scowled. “No.”

“You are.”

“I am not.”

Glinda leaned closer, eyes full of pure mischief. “Then why are you blushing?”

Elphaba’s entire body locked up.

“I am not,” she repeated through gritted teeth, fully aware that denial was her only defense at this point.

Glinda giggled again, entirely too pleased. “This is adorable.”

Elphaba groaned. “Are we done here?”

Glinda hummed, tapping her chin. “Hmm… not quite.”

Elphaba gawked at her. “You’re joking.”

Glinda beamed. “You did agree to a thorough experiment, Elphie.”

Elphaba groaned again, letting her head fall gently against the headboard this time.

Glinda grinned, clearly having the time of her life.

“So,” she continued, all too casual, “what’s your review so far?”

Elphaba blinked. “What?”

“You promised feedback, remember?” Glinda wiggled her eyebrows. “So? How was it?”

Elphaba opened her mouth. Closed it. Opened it again.

Then, after a long, suffering pause, she muttered, “It was… fine.”

Glinda gasped dramatically. “Just fine?”

Elphaba exhaled. “It was—good, alright? Are you happy now?”

Glinda smirked. “I think I need a more detailed analysis.”

Elphaba narrowed her eyes. “You do not.”

Glinda tilted her head. “Hmm. Maybe we should try again, just to make sure—”

Elphaba shot out of bed. “NOPE. That’s enough science for today.”

Glinda pouted. “Oh, come on—”

“No.” Elphaba made a beeline for her desk, putting as much space between them as humanly possible.

Glinda sighed dramatically. “Alright, fine. But just so you know, we will be revisiting this.”

Elphaba slammed her book open and pointedly ignored her.

Glinda giggled.

Elphaba scowled.

And somewhere, deep in the part of her brain she refused to acknowledge, a dangerous, dangerous thought settled in:

That had been her first kiss.

And she kind of, sort of, really wanted to do it again.