The Kissing Theory

The room was still bathed in the dim blue of dawn when Glinda's eyes fluttered open. It took her a moment to realize why she was so warm, so comfortable, so... content. And then it hit her.

She was still wrapped in Elphaba’s arms.

Her breath hitched.

They were so close. Too close. Their legs tangled together, their arms snug around each other as if the night had whispered to them that they belonged there, intertwined, inseparable. Glinda’s face was mere inches from Elphaba’s, close enough that she could see the slow rise and fall of the green girl’s chest, close enough that she could see the way Elphaba’s lips—

Oh.

Glinda’s heart thudded painfully.

She wasn’t supposed to be staring. She shouldn’t be staring. But her eyes refused to look away. The soft shape of Elphaba’s lips, the way they parted just slightly with every steady breath—it was mesmerizing, almost hypnotic. Glinda had kissed those lips. Multiple times.

Yet, somehow, now felt different.

Because right now, there was no experiment. No excuse.

It was just them.

And suddenly, a terrifying yet oddly comforting thought settled in Glinda’s mind: I could stay like this forever.

She could wake up every morning wrapped in this warmth, held like she was something important. She could spend every dawn staring at Elphaba’s lips, wondering if she had the courage to—

“Elphie—”

A pair of dark eyes fluttered open, blinking drowsily at her.

Glinda froze.

And then—

A smirk.

“Wouldn’t you rather go back to sleep,” Elphaba murmured, voice husky with sleep, “than stare at me?”

Glinda’s breath caught. Oh. Oh, this was unfair. Illegal, even.

“I didn’t know you were awake,” she managed, her voice steadier than she felt.

Elphaba hummed, stretching just slightly, their bodies pressing even closer. Glinda nearly died.

“I wasn’t,” Elphaba admitted. “But something was helping me sleep.”

Glinda tilted her head, lips quirking. “Well, of course you didn’t need any help.” She let her fingers trail lightly against Elphaba’s arm, her voice dropping into something undeniably teasing. “You already had me in your bed, hugging you.”

Elphaba blinked. And then—

“…Do I even bother arguing with that?”

Glinda giggled, utterly delighted with herself. “You could, but I’d just be right anyway.”

Elphaba sighed, but there was a soft laugh beneath it. She was too tired to fight back, too comfortable to push Glinda away. And maybe—just maybe—she didn’t want to.

Silence fell between them. Not awkward. Not heavy.

Just stillness.

Just them.

Their breathing the only sound in the room, the faint golden glow of dawn spilling through the window, wrapping them in a world where nothing else existed.

Glinda’s fingers twitched against Elphaba’s arm. Her eyes dropped, just for a second, to those lips again.

And then—

A gentle touch against her cheek.

Glinda inhaled sharply.

Elphaba’s fingers brushed against her skin, slow and hesitant, like she wasn’t sure if she should be touching Glinda like this—but couldn’t stop herself.

Glinda leaned into it, her breath shaky. She didn’t even think. She just—

Pressed her lips to Elphaba’s.

Soft.

Lingering.

Not like before. Not like practicing.

This was different.

This was real.

Elphaba gasped against her mouth, but didn’t pull away. Instead, her grip tightened, her fingers slipping into Glinda’s curls, pulling her closer. The kiss deepened, slow and warm and everything Glinda didn’t realize she had been craving.

Her body pressed against Elphaba’s, a hum escaping her throat as the warmth between them grew, spread, intensified.

Then—

A shift. A movement. A hand sliding from her face, down her waist, fingers grazing—

Glinda gasped, pulling back with a breathless laugh.

Elphaba blinked, dazed, before realizing where her hand was currently resting.

“…I didn’t—”

“Oh, you didn’t?” Glinda teased, cheeks burning.

Elphaba groaned, burying her face in the pillow. “I hate you.”

Glinda giggled, absolutely radiant. “No, you don’t.”

Elphaba sighed heavily. “No. I don’t.”

A silence fell again, but this time, the air was charged. Electric. A heartbeat away from something neither of them dared name.

Glinda exhaled, shifting, resting her forehead against Elphaba’s. “Well,” she murmured, a smirk playing at her lips. “I’d say you’ll sleep very well now.”

Elphaba groaned. “I don’t even know what we just did.”

Glinda just curled up against her again, wrapping her arms around Elphaba’s waist, nestling into her like she belonged there. “I don’t know either,” she whispered. “But it’s all just part of the experiment, right?”

Elphaba let out a soft chuckle, her own arms instinctively pulling Glinda closer. She sighed into the golden curls that smelled like something sweet, something familiar, something dangerous.

“…Right.”

And with that, in the early light of dawn, they drifted back to sleep—entwined, hearts racing, lips tingling, and with the unmistakable feeling that something irreversible had just happened.

Something that neither of them would ever be able to undo.