The Kissing Theory

The morning light filtered softly through the dormitory window, casting a golden glow on the room. Elphaba was already awake, sitting on her bed with a book in her hands, though her eyes weren’t scanning the words on the page. Instead, they kept flickering to the blonde sleeping on her lap, nestled under Elphaba’s blanket, her golden curls spread over Elphaba’s thighs.

Glinda’s peaceful face, the way her nose crinkled slightly as she stirred, the soft rise and fall of her breath—Elphaba was captivated. And terribly, terribly confused.

That kiss. It hadn’t been a joke. Not really. And the way Glinda had snuggled up to her afterward, her body molded perfectly against Elphaba’s, as if they were meant to fit together like that…

No. No, no, no. Elphaba shook her head slightly, gripping the book a little tighter. This was just an experiment. Glinda had said so. And Elphaba, foolishly, had agreed to it. The idea of Glinda feeling anything beyond scientific curiosity was laughable. The blonde was flighty, in love with romance itself more than any one person.

Still… it hadn’t felt like an experiment last night. It had felt real. And real was dangerous.

Elphaba was deep in her spiral of thoughts when Glinda shifted, a sleepy hum escaping her lips as she lazily blinked her eyes open. Her gaze, still hazy with sleep, landed on Elphaba’s face, and she smiled.

“Mmm… morning, Elphie,” she murmured, stretching her arms but not moving from Elphaba’s lap.

Elphaba swallowed. “Morning.”

Glinda wriggled under the blanket, clearly in no rush to get up. “Thank Oz, we have a day off,” she sighed dramatically, rolling onto her side and pressing her face against Elphaba’s stomach. “I plan to do nothing.”

Elphaba tried, desperately, to ignore the way her breath hitched at the casual intimacy. “You’re already excelling at that,” she said dryly, attempting to keep her tone normal.

Glinda giggled, her voice muffled. “You love it.”

“I do not.”

“You do,” Glinda countered, finally lifting her head and looking up at Elphaba with a smirk. “You’re just grumpy because you’ve already been up for hours, reading some complicated, boring book while I got to enjoy the luxury of sleeping in.”

Elphaba scoffed. “It’s not boring.”

Glinda peeked at the title. “A Study on Magical Anomalies of the 15th Century?” She wrinkled her nose. “Sounds riveting.”

Elphaba rolled her eyes, but there was no real annoyance behind it. Glinda had this way of teasing her that felt… safe. Comfortable. Too comfortable.

Glinda yawned and stretched again, finally sitting up, though she remained tangled in Elphaba’s blanket. “Well, since it’s our day off, what’s the plan? Will you finally take me to that little bookstore café you always sneak off to?”

Elphaba blinked. “I don’t sneak off.”

Glinda gave her a knowing look. “You do. And I want to go.”

Elphaba sighed, realizing she was fighting a losing battle. “Fine.”

Glinda beamed and leaned forward, wrapping her arms around Elphaba in a quick, tight hug before bouncing off the bed. “Perfect! Give me thirty minutes to get ready, and we’ll have the best day ever.”

Elphaba watched her disappear into the bathroom, her heart doing something complicated in her chest.

She was in trouble.

***

The bookstore café was tucked into a quiet corner of Shiz’s town square, a cozy little shop with floor-to-ceiling bookshelves, a warm scent of coffee in the air, and small tables tucked between literary towers. It was one of Elphaba’s favorite places, a sanctuary where she could disappear into a book without interruption.

Or at least, it had been. Because now, Glinda was here.

And Glinda was not the type to disappear quietly.

“Oh, this place is adorable,” Glinda gasped as they stepped inside. Her eyes sparkled as she took in the soft lighting, the old wooden shelves, the plush chairs tucked into reading nooks. She spun in a little circle, beaming at Elphaba. “Why didn’t you tell me about this sooner?”

Elphaba gave her a dry look. “Because I like it quiet.”

Glinda pouted playfully. “Oh, don’t be grumpy. I promise I’ll whisper.”

Elphaba sighed, but there was no real irritation behind it. Instead, she led Glinda toward the back of the shop, where a small café counter stood next to a wall of books. “Do you want anything?” she asked, gesturing toward the menu.

Glinda tapped a finger against her chin, considering. “Hmm… something sweet. Surprise me.”

Elphaba rolled her eyes but ordered a caramel latte and a small pastry for Glinda, along with a black coffee for herself. When she returned to their table, Glinda was already flipping through a book she’d plucked from a nearby shelf.

“This one looks promising,” Glinda said, holding up a romance novel with an overly dramatic cover. She wiggled her eyebrows. “Maybe we should read it together?”

Elphaba snorted. “Absolutely not.”

Glinda laughed and set it aside, accepting her coffee with a grateful smile. As she took a sip, she sighed contentedly. “Okay, I see why you like this place. It’s peaceful. Cozy.”

Elphaba hummed in agreement, though she was more focused on the way Glinda looked when she was content—soft and warm, curled into her seat with a look of genuine happiness. She wasn’t sure she’d ever seen Glinda like this before.

They spent the next few hours flipping through books, occasionally reading passages aloud to each other—mostly dramatic, ridiculous ones that made them dissolve into laughter. At one point, Glinda leaned over Elphaba’s shoulder, pretending to be deeply engrossed in whatever she was reading.

“You smell nice,” she murmured absently.

Elphaba stiffened. “What?”

Glinda blinked, then giggled. “I said you smell nice. Like old books and something else… I don’t know. It’s nice.”

Elphaba swallowed hard, her cheeks burning. “Stop sniffing me.”

Glinda just laughed, clearly delighted at Elphaba’s reaction.

By the time the afternoon sun had shifted in the sky, the two of them had settled into a comfortable rhythm—Glinda making little jokes, Elphaba rolling her eyes but secretly enjoying every second of it. And for the first time in a long while, Elphaba felt like she wasn’t just observing life from the outside. She was in it, living it.

And it terrified her.