you (slip away)

The green of the grass and the trees, and plants, and leafs in the Upland's home don't bother Elphaba.

She likes their shade, the deepness of their hue. They welcome her—even if her own verdigris isn't at all close to their colouring—and allow her to feel, for the two hours she works around the house, as if she belongs somewhere.

It's a hot day, as always is in Oz this time of year, and Elphaba's overalls start to gather too much heat around her chest. Beads of sweat run down her sternum, so she unclasps the upper part of it and welcomes the instant relief from the warmth.

Every Monday, for the past eight years, Elphaba has parked her army green Land Rover 127 Pickup truck in front of Larena Upland and Sargon Arduenna's house. To get there on their agreed-upon schedule hours, Elphaba wakes up at eight in the morning, which some people, or most, wouldn't have a problem with, but Elphaba is someone who enjoys slumber too much to like waking up in the morning. If she had it her way, she would wake up at two in the afternoon or just in time for dinner.

The Uplands’ is not too far, taking only twenty minutes to and fro her own house, so, the working week, since she was sixteen, had a pleasant and slow start to it. Elphaba could rise comfortably at eight—instead of five, like some dreadful days begged her to—make breakfast for her and Nessarose, eat, talk with her sister, wash their dishes, shower, not necessarily in that order, put on her gardening uniform and head out to her first house of the day at nine.

Frottica, where the Uplands residence is in, is a very beautiful residential neighbourhood. Situated further inside of Oz, to the north of Shiz, the streets are lined with giant trees that provide shade for the visitor's and working people's cars parked outside, for the running groups of men and women who rise early to exercise, for the mothers and nannies who stroll around with their children and the couples who walk their dogs before going off to work.

It's different than Elphaba's neighbourhood but only in the sense that, although this one still had its faithful home owners, Shiz's residents were almost fanatical about religion. Her father, case in point, was a minister and, for as long as Elphaba could remember and understand, had nudged her half-sister, Nessarose, into the same path as his—Unionism. Although Elphaba herself wasn't in the slightest religious, amusing some ludicrous belief that an Unnamed God who died on a cross could have risen from the dead for the salvation of everyone, she had a few, but all very important, things to thank the Church for.

One of them, despite all gratitude going towards an act and not the man himself, was her legal father, Frexspar Pheles. Religion, more specifically faith, as Elphaba's studies, observations, and experiences have made her believe, is more of a compliance and consequences thing. So when she was born green, and later when her mother, Melena Thropp died, Frexspar—dear good Brother, Minister and Priest Frexspar didn't turn Elphaba away like she'd been expecting him to since she was a child and the reason, something he would hammer on and on and on to all who'd hear, was his faith, his religion, the Church.

Because if a man is good to others in need, if a man loves his neighbour, if he treats others how he would treat himself, then he deserves to go to Heaven when he dies. He deserves all the other amazing things the Unionist Book promises. And more than that, if he does not abandon the child that is not his, that no one wants, that everybody is afraid of because of her skin colour, then he is so. Good.

Another thing is this. The work. The Uplands. The Gales. Dillamond. Elphaba loves what she does, and she loves some of her clients. She wouldn't have either if it wasn't for the Church—and Frexspar a little. They had first accepted to let the green girl work in their house because she was from the Church, because back then, at sixteen, she made the smart decision to introduce her services as being extended by her father's, she even used to drive his truck—the Church’s. It was only at twenty years old, and only to the garden's owners who had warmed up to her significantly, that she had separated herself from the Church and made her own gardening business debut.

New logo on a new truck, new business card, new clientele. A free Elphaba Thropp.

Well, sort of; she still lives in Frexspar's house and neighbourhood.

She’s getting close to leaving, though. Soon, she thinks as she swipes a hand over her forehead before starting the lawnmower.

The reason the Uplands had made Elphaba start work at ten in the morning was because of their daughter, Galinda. Simply put, gardening is loud, and even though Elphaba agrees with that, as the lawnmower roars to life in front of her, surely Galinda wouldn’t be too disturbed about the noise—it can’t be as loud, or that distracting, seeing as she’s inside the house and not out of it, handling the lawnmower, like Elphaba is.

She grabs the handles, shaking her head a little at the Upland’s daughter spoiled life, and starts to work on their front yard, her micro-braids braided into two big ones that now hang over her shoulder as the lawnmower jostles her a bit. She works her path—straight line forward, turn, straight line back where she came from—until an expensive-looking black car parks behind her very modest truck.

Speak of the devil, Elphaba thinks as she watches the driver’s door being closed and Galinda rounding the car to walk in the entryway to her house.

She’s wearing a pink pencil skirt and a striped pink blazer with purpleish gloves. Elphaba feels a little suffocated just by looking at her; how the woman is not melting away in this heat is a mystery.

“Good morning, Elphaba,” She screams over the lawnmower’s sound once Elphaba has made her way back to the concrete path Galinda stands on, “Starting early, are we?” She gives a sickly sweet smile, but Elphaba knows she’s just being utterly fake.

Galinda can’t stand Elphaba. The reason? Probably the same one as everyone else’s.

“Miss Upland.” She doesn’t entertain her, though, just acknowledges her and goes right back to work. Even though, when Elphaba turns around, her back to Galinda, she can still feel Galinda’s presence, her gaze burning Elphaba’s back.

The colour of her skin isn’t really a problem to Elphaba—it truly isn’t—but sometimes she wishes she was normal. It would have been nice to have a friend, or someone, growing up, and the green skin had prevented that.

Elphaba’s chest constricts, an uncomfortable feeling that she ignores whenever it comes. She feels a sudden bout of hatred, irritation, and frustration directed towards the Upland’s only daughter. Galinda is a reminder of what Elphaba could have been.

She shakes her head, chastising herself for not being one hundred per cent present in the work before her.

Sargon finds her in the shed, putting away the lawnmower.

“Oh, Miss Thropp!” He exclaims, surprised, for some reason, as if Elphaba hasn’t worked here since she was sixteen years old. He approaches where she had been on her tiptoes trying to store the extension she used to mow the lawn. “Here, let me grab that for you.”

Elphaba exhales in relief, “Thank you, Mr Arduenna.”

“No problem at all.” He says, after easily storing the long cord in its respective organiser. “Larena’s sent me to get you. She wants to talk to you about the back garden,”

Elphaba smiles at him.  The Uplands are nice. It was a surprise to find that out. Elphaba had been scared to meet them after knowing how Galinda was like—they went to the same high school, shared some classes, and had a few projects to work on together with other students. Even though they hadn’t exactly interacted much one one-on-one, it was hard not to know about Galinda and how she behaved. The girl had been everywhere and on everyone’s mouth, including the teachers and the principal. However, on those last two, all Elphaba ever heard was praise. From their peers, the chatter was mixed. Well, to Elphaba, that is—the other students seemed to be under a Galinda-induced spell because even when she’d heard rumours that Galinda misbehaved, the person gossiping would always turn it around, would praise Galinda and say how nice and polite she was.

But Larena is sweet and caring, and a few months in, she had turned her affectionate side onto Elphaba, just like the one she had for her husband and daughter. It had been intense, surreal, almost too much, in the beginning. Not as intense or ache-inducing as it had been with Mrs Manglehead, no, not even close to that, but it had almost driven Elphaba insane. Offering a break, or asking Elphaba to step inside and, essentially, tricking her into sitting down for a few minutes, or always hugging Elphaba goodbye when she announces she’s done for the day, or indulging in Elphaba’s explanation, even going so far as to ask something that Larena would only know if she went researching for it.

And Sargon was the same, if not worse. He doted on Elphaba since the beginning, so much—are you sure a sixteen-year-old should handle that? Maybe I should mow the law and you can do the other stuff, Elphaba. This is crazy! You could cut something in your body! And then, the next week, before Elphaba could even step foot out of her truck, he appeared out of nowhere, smiling like it was the best day of his life—Look! This one is much safer! And the features on this thing, Miss Thropp, come, come, let me show you!

It had been dizzying, confusing—new.

“Prepare yourself, she’s made pink lemonade.”

Elphaba smiles. Of course, she did.

Pink lemonade means celebration, and judging from the black car behind her truck, said celebration is Galinda’s return from her boyfriend’s apartment in Emerald City. Galinda has probably only been away for the weekend, two days, and still—a celebration for her return.

Her chest constricts again.

“You must help me sneak out if too much time passes. I have to leave for The Madeleines—”

Sargon narrows his eyes at her, “Elphaba… You know, you’re too sweet. She can take you saying goodbye. It’s okay to interrupt her, I promise.”

Elphaba shakes her head, “That only makes it worse. We say goodbye, and then she hugs me while still talking as if I haven’t just said I needed to leave.”

Sargon throws his head back, a fond and knowing look on his features as he laughs. He doesn’t say anything else because he knows Elphaba is right.

Larena Upland is a talker.

When they get to the kitchen, Galinda is sitting on a stool while her mother proves Elphaba’s point, talking enthusiastically with her hands. Elphaba’s eyes linger on the soft look Galinda has on her face—the glint in her eyes, the way she’s genuinely paying attention to her mother’s words, and how her smile never leaves her lips. They lessen or widen but the amused grin stays there. Galinda’s eyes stray to Elphaba and she averts her gaze.

“Ah! There you are. Are you finished with the lawn, then? Come, sit.” She points to the stool next to Galinda. “My God, Elphaba, you are drenching! I’m fetching you ice for your lemonade. Galinda! Ice!”

“You just said you were fetching it!” Galinda whines, but Elphaba, somehow, knows there’s no real irritation behind it.

Galinda gets up from the stool, and Larena nudges Elphaba to sit.

This is the first time in eight years that Galinda was here during one of the many Larena Upland-induced pauses in Elphaba’s work.

"Mr Arduenna mentioned you wanted to talk about the back garden?"

Larena waves a hand. "I'll get to that."

Galinda appears in front of her, a glass of pink lemonade filled to the brim with ice cubes in her hand. "Here."

"Oh, thank you, Miss Upland,"

Galinda rolls her eyes. "Call me Galinda, would you?" She murmurs before stepping around Elphaba and returning to her stool on the other side of the kitchen island.

"Yes, Elphaba, how many times must we tell you to call us by our first names?" Sargon asks from where he sits on the kitchen table, his computer opened in front of him.

Elphaba’s cheeks warm; she raises the glass to her lips and takes a sip.

"Bless her heart, she's blushing."

"Momsie," Galinda sat again. "It's not polite to point that out."

"Elphaba, sit, please," Larena tells her again.

Elphaba didn't want to, but now she has to, and it has to be next to Galinda, or the awkwardness would triple.

"Um—"

"About the back garden, yes, I know. I'll get to that, sweetie."

She feels Galinda watching her. She takes another sip, ignoring her, and waits for Larena to continue.

"Galinda was telling me how Fiyero's parents are moving."

Elphaba frowns at the randomness of the subject. "Oh?" Curiously, she meets Galinda's gaze.

Galinda raises her eyebrows, and her lips form a thin line, the sides of it raising in an awkward smile.

"Yes, the house next door, actually. Remember when I said our Realtor was looking for a landscaper? Well, as you know, Galinda's worked a couple of times as a garden designer, so they've hired her, but she was just now telling me she needs a gardener—"

Elphaba shakes her head, her eyes widening, "Oh, no. Mrs Upland, I couldn't. I can't. I've never built—"

Larena purses her lips, frowning and tilting her head. "Didn't you say you had a Horticulture diploma?"

Elphaba's mouth drops open. Her head twists to Galinda when she hears her snicker .

"Anyway, dear, it is just a thought. Just promise me you'll think about it. I've given Galinda your number, she'll text you to let you know the due date for your acceptance."

It unsettles her that Larena talks as if Elphaba agreeing is a given.

She smiles weekly at the woman. "The back garden?"

Larena, who was in the middle of gulping down the rest of the lemonade in her glass, widens her eyes as if she had forgotten about the very thing that made her send Sargon to find Elphaba.

Or maybe the back garden was just a ruse. Elphaba didn't doubt that at all.

"Honey, could you help me with the thing?" Larena asks, furthering Elphaba's suspicion.

Sargon looks up from his computer, frowning, and then, Larena nods in Elphaba's and Galinda's direction, and his eyebrows shoot up.

"Yes, yes, of course, honey. Coming!"

And then they're off.

Galinda sighs next to her.

Right.

"I'll say I'm not up for it, you don’t have to worry."

Galinda eyebrows twist down, "What?" Then she spins in the stool to face Elphaba. "What do you mean?"

"How would we work together, Galinda?"

Galinda looks around the room, confusion etched in her features. "I'm assuming just the way anybody works with another person...?"

Elphaba glares at her. "You hate me,"

Galinda stares at her, her face entirely passive, for a second. Then, she closes her eyes, frowns and tilts her head. "What?" She whispers, indignantly.

“We can’t stand each other,” Galinda’s frown hardens. "Oh, stop. There's no one around, you can be honest, you know?"

"Elphaba, who— I mean, I don’t know what to say," Before Elphaba could answer, she adds, “And why can’t you stand me? We haven’t even talked for more than ten minutes since high school.”

Elphaba scrutinises Galinda. She's not entirely sure what's happening here. Why didn't Galinda just take the offered out that Elphaba’s given her, the way she’s always had throughout the years? Why is she still here? Galinda could leave, she could let Elphaba wait for her parents to come back alone; they didn't have to talk. Well, any more than they already are. So, Elphaba wonders, what is with Galinda?

"Did I do something to you? If so, I am sorry." Galinda's voice is resolute.

Elphaba doesn't even have time to think of an answer, Larena and Sargon enter the kitchen with two boxes—one in Sargon's arms, the heavier one, the one with rocks inside; and the other in Larena's, this one with what seemed like seed packets inside. Fine, perhaps Elphaba was wrong, perhaps this wasn't a ruse and maybe Larena actually had something to talk about with Elphaba over the back garden.

"Shall we?" Larena asks.

Galinda watches Elphaba get up from the stool—Elphaba can tell by the same burning sensation of someone watching her from before when she ignored Galinda's attempt at pleasantries— and follow the Uplands outside.

A very weird and disconcerting feeling settles inside of her because of the exchange with Galinda. She sets it aside though to listen to Larena's explanation of what she thought they could do with the back garden's free space.

Larena liked to garden along with Elphaba at times. It was nice. She welcomes this distraction from having to think about Galinda, about Larena's idea, about the weird feeling after that weird conversation.

The Madeleines lived in The Madeleines. They swear it wasn't intentional but their eager promising only makes it funnier to Elphaba.

Their garden was significantly smaller than the Upland's house. The Madeleines wasn't a rich neighbourhood like Frottica or Shiz; it was simple while still being spacious and good-looking but certainly not rich. So she gets to linger more in her tasks, to make sure they are perfect and to engage a little with the two little dogs who always sniffed her as if she was someone entirely new to them while their tails waggled crazily happy as if she was someone they knew all their life.

It's funny. This is a funny little house to work on.

After eating her packed lunch, she finishes off by pruning their tree out back. When she gets inside her truck, preparing herself to make her designated stops on her way back to Shiz—two houses and one apartment in Emerald City and then two houses in Brox Hall—she instinctively reaches for her phone, worried Nessa might have texted her and is surprised to find three messages from an unknown number.

♡‧₊˚⋅ ౨ৎ ‧₊ .♡ Galinda Upland♡‧₊˚⋅ ౨ৎ ‧₊ .♡

i need your answer by the first

business day of next month.

this is Galinda by the way

The next message had been sent thirty minutes after the last one.

♡‧₊˚⋅ ౨ৎ ‧₊ .♡ Galinda Upland♡‧₊˚⋅ ౨ৎ ‧₊ .♡

why did you think i hate you

Elphaba rolls her eyes, resisting the urge to exclaim really? out loud—aimed at Galinda or the universe, she doesn't really know.

Elphaba thinks. Her red tank top now in a deeper red because it is essentially soaked. She rolls down her window.

Elphaba T.

Yes. I figured that. How much would the pay be?

Galinda answers almost immediately. Elphaba rolls her eyes again as she puts her phone down and starts driving to Emerald City. She only sees the answer once she's parked in her designated spot outside the next building on her itinerary.

Emerald City probably is the most progressive neighbourhood in all of Oz. It's where she wants to move to. She's been saving up since she started working as a gardener, of course, but once she's had enough of obligatory garden work for Church members, she had to use a good part of it to get her current truck.

Galinda Upland

2k per every month you'll need to

complete the project

Elphaba sighs. Perhaps she should actually give this a thought.

"Elphaba!" Miss Coddle, The Wizard of Oz's landlord, one of the most luxurious building in Emerald City, calls for her.

Keala Coddle isn't exactly a nice person but when Larena said she had someone who could take care of the building's green areas, she did accept her suggestion to give Elphaba a chance. It was good work even though most of the building's residents ignored her or treated her with barely concealed superiority.

Keala was the latter.

"Good morning, Miss Coddle."

"Yes." She smiles at her—a grimace, really. "You'll need to start here, at the back today. We have potential buyers coming around."

Right. The new residents couldn't find out so early on that a green girl works on their building. It could spook them.

Elphaba nods at her and gets out of the car. Once she does, Miss Coddle bristles. Pointedly, she looks down at Elphaba's unclasped overall. Cursing the woman in her mind, Elphaba clasps the thing while walking over to the trunk to gather her equipment.

If she's starting in the back, then it's mostly picking up the residents pets waste, trimming grass and bushes and watering flower beds. She'll probably have time to answer Galinda if she finishes and Miss Coddle hasn't come around to tell her she can move to the front so before getting inside, she grabs her phone from the truck.

And that is exactly what happens. Bringing the equipment she won't need for the building’s front, she deposits them back in the trunk and then gets inside the driver's seat, rolling her window down lest she melts from the heat.

Galinda Upland

you haven't answered my question btw

Elphaba rolls her eyes.

Elphaba T.

You said I had till the first Tuesday of

next month to give you an answer.

Putting her phone down, she wonders if Galinda having her number means she'll have to get used to the girl's consecutive, rapid and non punctuated texts. Perhaps that's how Galinda's brain worked—

Her phone vibrates on the dashboard.

Galinda Upland

you think you're so clever huh

you know what i meant

but fine i'll ask again

what did i do to make you think i hated you

Elphaba huffs.

Elphaba T.

Why is this so important to you anyway?

Is it because you can't stand

the fact that someone doesn't like you?

Galinda Upland

okay

so you don't like me then

is that why you think i don't like you???

you thought i couldn't stand you

so you decided to do the same to me???

Elphaba purses her lips.

Elphaba T.

Whatever, Galinda. I will let you know

before Tuesday.

Goodbye.

Galinda Upland

Elphaba

Elphaba Thropp

EL

PHA

BA

T

H

R

O

P

P

Elphaba T.

WHAT. Jesus. You know, I'm working here.

Unlike you, I need it. I can't afford to only

work when it pleases me.

Galinda Upland

well i could have stopped texting you ages ago

but you decided to ignore my question so

how about you just answer me huh

i pinky promise to let you go then :)

Elphaba pinches the very bridge of her nose, the corner of her eyes being pressed as well.

Elphaba T.

Fine.

She stares at the keyboard on her phone. She actually doesn't know why they can't stand each other, why, other than the fact that Galinda had everything she dreams of, Elphaba is so infuriated by her.

She takes too long (it wasn't even three minutes) to answer.

Galinda Upland

??????????????????????????????

Elphaba T.

I'll answer your question if you answer mine.

Galinda Upland

i asked first

Then she sends a sticker of a cat doing an angry face.

Elphaba snorts and then curses herself for it.

Galinda Upland

but fine

is this what our professional

relationship is going to be like

ugh

what is it then miss thropp

ask me

Elphaba T.

You seem eager to get me to accept this.

Galinda Upland

.........?

Elphaba T.

What.

Galinda Upland

that wasn't a question

"Oz's sake," Elphaba whispers under her breath.

Elphaba T.

Why are you so eager to get me to accept this?

Galinda Upland

...……why do i get the feeling you just copied

your last message and added the why are you

anyways i made the mistake of saying

i didn't have a gardener/landscaper

so fiyero's parents said they knew one

it's boq

idk if you know him

now THAT is someone i can't stand

honestly he's so

Galinda sends another sticker. This time, it's her: it's Galinda in a pink dress and blonde hair down her shoulders and she's looking at Elphaba (well, at the camera) her face twisted in a disgusting manner.

Galinda Upland

so there you have it

that's why i want you

to work with me that is

i want you to work as my landscaper

Elphaba T.

Right. Got it.

Galinda Upland

now you answer mine

Elphaba T.

I know.

She sighs, rolls her eyes at herself.

Elphaba T.

You were right.

Miss Coddle decides to reappear at this moment and Elphaba, in her haste to get back to work, leaves her phone in the truck.

Galinda Upland

hm

of course i was

right about what specifically

elphaba

elphaba

elphaba thropp

oh no you do not

get back here right this instant and tell me what i am right

about elphaba thropp or i swear to everything that is good...

UGH

[sticker]

okay so i've reread our conversation and i think you

were referring to when i called out your hypocrisy

you deciding i didn't like you so you

made it your mission to not like me

mind you

i tried to befriend you so many times in high school

honestly it was so embarrassing

oz maybe i shouldn't have told you that

Galinda Upland

bye

It’s hard not to find it a little bit funny, and endearing. Elphaba has to fight the little smile that blooms while she rolls her eyes after finishing reading Galinda’s messages.

Elphaba T.

Hello.

Galinda Upland

hi

Elphaba scoffs.

Elphaba T.

Are you ever not on your phone?

Galinda Upland

you know

we’d make our own hours on the tigelaars project

so you wouldn’t have to get back home at

ten o’clock at night

ELPHABA THROPP

how do you live???

what time do you wake up?

so many questions

so little willingness to answer

Elphaba stares at the phone. Thinks back on how Galinda let slip that she had tried to befriend Elphaba back in high school. How she’d apologised even if she had looked confused about things between them.

She sighs resignedly.

Elphaba T.

Yes, you were right about… That.

I didn’t just get back from work.

I live… Somewhat comfortably.

I generally wake up at six or seven in the morning.

Mondays are an exception.

Satisfied?

Galinda Upland

 a little yeah

so

do i have to beg for you to say yes to this

i’ll do anything

Elphaba T.

You don’t even know if I’m going to be a good landscaper.

I have never built anything, I only take care of gardens.

I don’t build them.

Galinda Upland

so what were you doing

if you weren’t working until now

also

what do you mean somewhat comfortably

also

why are mondays an exception

don’t you start here on mondays

oh and you still haven’t said yes

Elphaba T.

:)

What did you mean, you tried to befriend me in high school?

And why was it embarrassing?

Galinda Upland

oh i see

i see how it is

i meant it as i said it

i tried to talk to you a few times

but you always ended up talking down on me

so you see why it was embarrassing

i just gave up one day

Elphaba doesn’t remember it like that. But high school had been… Well, she doesn’t make an effort to remember those times, except for her studies of course.

She bites her lip and adjusts herself on her bed. Nessa has fallen asleep long ago. She likes to sleep in Elphaba’s bedroom sometimes. Says it’s easier than having to wheel back to her own bedroom after they spend hours talking about their respective days. Elphaba would believe her if she didn’t look so afraid of sleeping alone. A silly fear; one that doesn’t have an underlying deep-rooted meaning behind it, really, but still a fear that does make her sister crash at her room a few times a week.

Her phone buzzes and buzzes, and buzzes.

“Elphaba!” Nessa suddenly screams from her bed, “Turn that off. What is that?” She sounds exasperated but more curious and awake than ever.

“Sorry, sorry.” She puts her phone on Don’t Disturb.

Galinda Upland

okay your turn

hello?

oh my oz

really??????

elphaba

are you serious

pls just put me out of my misery

am i going to have to work with boq

elphaba

Elphaba has notifications silenced.

Notify Anyway

YOU!!!!!!

YES NOTIFY ANYWAY

i know you didn’t just go to sleep without saying goodbye

Galinda Upland

😤🤬

night

Elphaba T.

I haven’t gone to sleep yet, Miss Upland.

It’s just your incessant messages have awoken my sister.

Though if you’re going to sleep now then, good night.

Galinda Upland

stop it stop it right now

you mean green thing

answer my questions

Elphaba T.

I’m usually home from work by 6 pm.

I live with my father and my sister, so… Somewhat comfortably.

Your parents requested me to start working later because

they didn’t want to ruin your beauty sleep. I’ve worked for

8 years for them. Your observations skills are astounding.

I still haven’t seen you beg. So.

Galinda Upland

oh i’ll beg

you underestimate my sour feelings

about working with boq

Elphaba T.

But if you’re going to be interrogating me like this,

perhaps I don’t want to work with you.

Galinda Upland

elphaba thropp

i am on my knees

i BEG you

please let’s work together

i’ll even let you have 5% of my cut

so you can move out

which i’m assuming is something you want

y’know…

based on the

somewhat comfortably

i know there’s a story there

Elphaba T.

:)

Good night, Galinda.

Galinda Upland

[side-eye emoji sticker]

good night elphaba

Elphaba lays back on her bed with a sigh—relief. Just before she’s about to fall asleep, she hears a buzz, having taken her phone off from Don’t Disturb.

Galinda Upland

thank you for indulging me :)

🩷

Frexspar usually leaves the house early on Mondays.

He says it is the busiest day of the week—people wanting to repent for the weekend's sins, he has to prepare his sermons for the entire week... Point is, it's necessary that he's out of the house by seven.

Elphaba, in red tank top, jeans overalls, braided hair in a ponytail for safety, skips down the stairs of the Thropps house, counting on said knowledge—knowledge that she'd observed and stored away inside her brain under important information when she was little. She is severely disappointed and startled when she sees chubby hands holding open a newspaper, a cup of tea on the table and the black top of his hat peeking out of the paper.

She pauses in the door, her back to the living room, doing mental calculations—if she leaves now, she can stop by a bakery on the way to the Uplands and still get there in time but only if she leaves now, rush hour would delay her too much or she could stay and have breakfast with the devil incarnate, her adoptive father.

A shudder runs through her but she catches it before it manifests physically enough for anyone to see.

"What are you doing, silly?" Nessa asks from behind her, mirth behind her voice as if Elphaba isn't facing a decision that will make or break her entire week.

Is it too dramatic? Perhaps.

Is it true? Definitely yes.

Frexspar Pheles-Thropp, though he doesn't like to use that one, doesn't lift a finger without intent behind it and, unfortunately for Elphaba, his intent is always to torment her.

"Good morning, Nessa," She says, only a little bit irritated that her sister made the decision for her.

"It would be if I could enter the kitchen and have breakfast. I'm famished,"

More than a little, then.

"Good morning, my dear Nessarose." He smiles at her sister while she wheels inside, taking her rightful place beside his chair on the table. Then, he sighs—he only has one kind of sigh reserved for Elphaba and this is the one—annoyed.

She hadn't said a word except to greet her little sister. What could she have done that would make him sigh at her? He's only ever done that little anguished exhale when Elphaba had done something he didn't agree with, things that Elphaba would grow up to realise meant she'd been deviating from the path he's curated for her sister—when Elphaba would talk back to adults when they were being unjust, or that time she saw one of his priest buddy's son bullying a little girl, or when she put a stop to Nessarose's blatant homophobia when they were little.

Things like that resulted in that groan of his. When he wasn't frustratingly sighing at Elphaba before lecturing or giving her an ultimatum of sorts, he was looking at her like he was just waiting for an opportunity to do it.

But she's just woken up and he'd done the thing.

In the very short period between her deciding to not stick around for breakfast and opening her mouth to tell her sister she would eat before going into work, Frexspar decides to acknowledge her.

"Sit." It's more of a command than anything.

Elphaba hates that even after all these years, he can still make her do something she doesn't want to, even though she hesitates.

"Sit, Fabala, eat with us," Nessa, never exactly able to tell—or perhaps something worse than that—when her father is being non-fatherly, says with a little pleading smile.

Elphaba sits beside her on the table.

"It has come to my attention that Mrs Upland wanted to talk to you about the Tigelaars garden."

Elphaba pauses from buttering her toast but does not look at him.

"So?" She asks.

For a minute all she can hear is the crunch Nessa makes while eating her own toast.

Frexspar clears his throat, "So, has she?"

"Why?"

"Answer me, young lady."

"I'm not eighteen anymore."

"You are still a young lady and are still expected to behave as such." He snarls. "And you are still living under my roof, my house; you will still abide by my rules." He lifts his hand as if he was going to smack the table.

Elphaba tries to ignore him but it's pointless, really. This is something she's thought about since the first time he uttered those words. She has wanted to be free of those conditions, free of him, since then.

Then he goes for her gut. "Unless you want to worry about the money it is needed to take care of a house, then you are to do and not do what I tell you to, Elphaba Thropp."

Elphaba swallows, still not looking at him. She hates this. It makes her feel like she hasn't grown a bit, as if she's been stagnate for all this time. It makes her feel cornered, most of all; claustrophobic to a point that an itch in her nose signals that she's moments away from having to hold back tears.

"What does that have to do with the Uplands?" She also hates that her voice sounds weak.

"If you accept to work on their garden, you're out—"

"Father—"

"Not now, Nessa." He interrupts her with a wave of his hand. "If I find out you are working for them with that Upland girl, you're out of this house." He gets up from his chair and Elphaba finally looks at him; his disgusted frown tucked in the same spot on the side of his lips and the way his eyes narrow menancingly at her tells Elphaba that even his precious Nessarose wouldn't be able to suade him.

It's silent when he leaves.

Good, Elphaba needs to think and if Nessa starts to defend him, as she always does, Elphaba won't be able to.

Working the Tigelaars garden may very well be the chance she has to save enough money to move out soon. But if she accepts it, Frexspar will know. She could sit the Uplands and the Tigelaars down and make them swear to secrecy that she's not accepted and isn't working there but she knows that's just complete wishful thinking.

However, sitting the Uplands or the Tigelaars down to explain her situation may be a solution—

"He's just trying to protect you, you know,"

"Right..."

"Why do you even want to work for them anyway? Do you need more money or something?"

Elphaba swallows. Her sister doesn't know she wants to leave her—well, him.

She feels her sister's gaze burning her profile.

"Why?"

"Why what, Nessa?"

"Why do you need more money? What are you planning, Elphaba?"

Elphaba sighs. "I'm off to work, see you later."

It's nine minutes past nine when Elphaba parks outside the Uplands house.

There's been an increasingly saddening sentiment burrowing deep inside of her that's beginning to want to spill out of her in form of tears. She grips the steering wheel, trying to feel something else, to focus somewhere else.

“Is everything alright?”

“Oh, oz!” Elphaba jumps. “You scared me,”

“I’m sorry sweetie, I just saw you park and…” Larena says. “It’s a bit early, isn’t it?”

Elphaba doesn’t answer her, she’s zoned in on the expression Larena has on her face—she’s worried. About Elphaba. Not in the way most people worry about her, no. It’s for her and not of her, of what she might do or cause, of what she’s about to disrupt or something along those lines. It’s a look that reminds her of Mrs Manglehead.

There’s nothing she can do to stop then. Directly reading the concerned lines on Larena Upland’s face, Elphaba Thropp sobs.

In a quick succession of oh sweetheart’s and it’s all right’s and ushering her inside the house, hands and arms wrapping comfortingly around her body, Elphaba soon finds herself sitting on a comfy sofa, curled up under a blanket while Larena runs a soothing hand up and down her back.

When she finally manages to stop ugly-crying, tears still falling down her face though, she sits up.

“I’m so sorry,” Elphaba starts, voice scratchy. “I— Um, I should go… Work.”

“Elphaba, tell me what happened. I’m worried about you.”

Elphaba inhales and exhales shakily.

“I can’t—” She swallows the lump in her throat. “I don’t want to live with him anymore.”

“Who? Your father?”

Elphaba doesn’t hear her, it’s like uttering that particular desire opened up a gate that she’s been trying really hard to keep locked. Wishing and hope had always been a thing Elphaba couldn’t afford to have—it had nearly cost her life once, she couldn’t let herself fall into a trap like that again.

“The only reason he didn’t abandon me when my mother died is because of appearances but I wish he had. I wish he had just left me out in the street to fend for myself instead of making me feel obligated to do what he pleases. I can’t breathe whenever he’s near me, I can’t live, I don’t want to. I can’t—”

Larena kindly shushes her when she realises Elphaba is about to spiral again, tells her that it’s okay and that she’ll be okay but it’s difficult to believe that when she hasn’t been able to escape him yet.

Elphaba’s breathing heavily, hiccuping a little still, with Larena’s arms around her when she hears two voices coming from behind them. She flinches.

“What’s going on?” Galinda asks.

“Honey?”

Larena doesn’t let go of Elphaba to say, “Sweetie, could you take Galinda to her room for a bit? I’ll swing by in a couple of minutes,”

“Come, sweetheart, I have to talk to you about an idea for the garden next door, anyway.”

Elphaba tries not to whimper at the mention of it but she clearly fails as Larene whispers that it’s okay once again.

“Momsie? What—”

“I’ll be right there, dear,”

By the time Galinda and Sargon go up the stairs and they hear a door closing, Elphaba has gone stiff in Larena’s arms, tears stopped, head pounding, eyes probably bloodshot red.

“Don’t you dare, Elphaba Thropp.” Larena says, but extremely softly. “I’ll prepare the guest room for you and you’ll stay here and work with Galinda, and until you have enough money to leave that place, you will stay here, you hear me?”

"Elphaba!" Her sister almost screams. "You can't be serious,"

"Let her leave, Nessa."

"What? No! She's my sister."

"I'm sorry, Nessa but I can't—" Her eyes flit to Frexspar standing tall beside Nessa, a triumph settling over his features. "I can't be here anymore."

"But—"

"I'll call you when I can, alright?"

She leaves, not wanting to extend the hurt further—hers and her sister's—but she catches Frexspar being his usual self, telling Nessa that Elphaba chose this and that she knew what it meant if she agreed to associate herself with those perverted and indecent Tigelaars. But what makes her pause, is she chose them Nessarose, do you understand that? She doesn't care about you, not even one bit.

"Come with me."

"Excuse me?"

Elphaba ignores Frexspar, "Nessa, please, he's poisoning you with these ideals! Come with me, I can show—"

It doesn't sting. She's used to it. Nessa, though, had never been present when he'd do it. Mostly because she was the pacifier, calming Elphaba, or restraining Elphaba enough, from furthering arguments and angering him to the point that he'd get physical.

Foolishly, Elphaba thinks maybe that will be enough to make her sister see just what kind of man her father was.

Of course, that does not happen.

She drives ho—

She drives to the Uplands' alone, windows down and tears blurring her vision.

When she gets there, Sargon and Larena are sitting on their front steps. They get up when she rounds the car to get the box filled with her things.

In the distance, she hears Sargon murmur "One box?" and then he grunts. Larena probably elbowed him in the stomach.

It alleviates some of the pressure in her chest, the sides of her lips twitch up sightly.

"Let's get you to your bedroom, sweetheart."

Galinda bolts right up from the kitchen stool when they get inside. Elphaba can see she's reatraining herself from approaching, or saying something, or asking questions.

"Hi," Elphaba murmurs.

Galinda's eyes are wide and she slowly comes closer and closer.

"Let me take that for you," Galinda takes the box out of her arms and then nods upstair, "I'll show you to your room. How are you—"

"Galinda—"

"It's okay, Larena."

She feels three heads whip in her direction.

"I'm, I feel tired, I suppose. I need to sleep," She swallows and tries to smile at Galinda before they start their way up the stairs.

"You'll love your room then. The bed is the comfiest, not more than mine of course, but it's like sleeping in a cloud still. Do you prefer to sleep in complete darkness or—"

"Sweetie," Galinda's mother calls from downstairs. "Don't overwhelm her, we want her to stay,"

Galinda smiles but her cheeks pink. "Sorry. If you like total darkness we have blackout curtains! That's what I was getting at,"

Elphaba feels a chuckle bubbling up but it doesn't form all the way, "Thank you, Galinda. I can take that."

"Oh, yes, of course."

They stare at each other. Elphaba doesn't dismiss the other woman because she looks a bit frazzled at everything that's going on. But then, she wishes she had. Galinda's gaze ventures down and to the cheek Frexspar had slapped. Elphaba hears alarms going off in her head.

"Thank you again. You and your parents," She looks to the top of the stairs hoping Galinda will follow her gaze. "I'm extremely grateful for this."

She didn't.

Her smile is weak but thankfully, she doesn't comment on it, "Of course, I— We care about you, Miss Thropp." She clears her throat. "Off you go then, have a good nap. If you need anything, I'm one door down,"

Galinda doesn't wait for an answer, just nods and leaves her be.

Elphaba watches her until she can't no longer see her going down the stairs.

Exhaling shakily, she closes the door.

She'd like to scream that she actually changed her mind, that what she needed now wasn't sleep but rather conversations about anything other than Frexspar or Nessarose, that what she needed now was to throw herself into work so she could avoid this.

The reliving of everything that happened this morning, the asking of why was her father the way it is, why was she gr—

Sleep.

She will sleep instead.

Thirty minutes have passed when she blinks sleepily.

When she wakes to full consciousness, her eyes roaming around the room—soft creamy walls, charming copper framing the windows and the thinnest layer of the curtains partially blocking out the sun—Elphaba remembers where she is and why she's here.

There's no dramatic groan, no frown settling on her lips again over the situation. There's only the lightest feeling of fear—that she'll have to go back, that she'll have to face Frexspar after this... tantrum of her, that she won't make enough money to live by herself.

That the Uplands will eventually tire of her.

Staring at their ceiling, bones feeling extremely jelly under the soft velvety comforter, Elphaba decides she won't let that happen. She inhales deeply and then exhales the same.

She throws the comforter off her body and sits up. Her eyes land on the box she had put down on the floor next to the bed, in front of the nightstand.

Two piles of clothes, some papers and photos of her and Nessa plus her mother's green elixir bottle.

That's it. Everything Elphaba Thropp owned. In one tiny box.

She nudges it with her foot.

"I'll be fine."

She's right, of course, because after the initial realisation that she's out in the real world without a safety net—even if it wasn't safe to begin with—Elphaba was fine.

She still talked with her sister, even after a month living with the Uplands. The fact that they always argue about her living arrangement now is new but they did used to argue either way, just about different things.

She still had her clients. None of them seemed to know or they knew, but seemed to not care that Frexspar threw her out, or that she left home or whatever gossip certainly was going around in a few Oz's neighbourhood.

Something that changed completely though was her closeness to Galinda Upland.

Galinda, in her very own Galinda-esque way, made progress on breaking down some of Elphaba's walls. And true to her usual demeanour, it was so quick—it left Elphaba a little bewildered. She doesn't know why she's that surprised honestly, when Galinda first texted her, she'd already found herself saying more than she'd ever said to someone their age.

Elphaba shouldn't have been surprised at all.

Still, here she is, a little dizzy and feeling like her heart is about to burst, while she watches Galinda flit about her (yes, pink) bedroom taking a clothing piece out of her closet, twirling it around her hand with a wandering gaze, all the while telling Elphaba about her first architectural project.

"—and it would've been fine, truly, but the client had that company wrapped around his little disgustifying finger so we had to do everything in a tight schedule. It was horrifying to have that as your first official paying project. Absolutely dreadful,"

Elphaba listens and hums and nods while sitting on the fluffy white rug, her back resting against Galinda's mattress, as she prepares her outfit for the next day.

A kind of domesticity she's only ever felt with Nessa—her clients may be routine and there may be some moments in there that resemble this feeling, but it doesn't reach the same intensity because Galinda and Elphaba are getting to know each other unlike, for example, Yaminah and Teophilus Tenmeadows who'd shared some moments of domesticity with Elphaba but with that superficial knowledge of each other that didn't allow for this... This flutter in her chest to erupt.

Galinda takes the shirt hung on the hanger that she just took out of the closet, along with the white skirt and pink shoes on the ground and deposits them on her table just beside the bathroom's door and then she twirls around and sits down next to Elphaba on the rug with a sigh.

"So, tell me, Elphie—" She murmurs.

"Elphie?" She asks, incredulously.

"It's a couple days after one month of you living here..."

Elphaba smiles at Galinda's stare, she knows she's waiting for something but Elphaba can't quite guess specifics yet. "What?"

Galinda rolls her eyes playfully, dramatically groans and lays her head on the bed while enveloping her hand around Elphaba's wrist, "How is it? Aren't we the perfect hosts or what?"

They chuckle together at her pretend silliness.

"Yes, you are."

She gets it now, what Galinda wants.

Infuriatingly, it doesn't infuriate Elphaba that she's practically begging to be complimented—instead, it makes the situation turn too real, time to slip more slowly and the woman sitting in front of her vulnerable in a way that Elphaba hasn't quite been in contact with until starting to live here.

So, she's honest.

"You've been very kind to me, Galinda." She furrows her brows, trying to piece her feelings into coherent thoughts. "You've been kind and patient, and lovely— Something I didn't think you were, purely because I didn't want yet another person I wanted to be friends with to reject me.” Elphaba has to look away so she finds Galinda’s mural attached with pictures and reminders about work and about life. She looks back to the other woman. And for that I am sorry."

Galinda looks at her with wide eyes, her previous teasing smile falling off her face and for one milisecond, Elphaba worries if she's made the wrong choice—the first wrong choice where she starts to notice Galinda pulling away, where their careful, almost hesitant still friendship will crumble because of something Elphaba said or did or didn't say or didn't do.

But then, before Galinda looks down, the softest little smile splits her lips, not one where her teeth show because from the way her cheekbones jut out a tiny bit, she's trying to contain it. Galinda's blonde curls curtains her face.

With a smile of her own, Elphaba inquiries, "Did I say something wrong?"

"No. You couldn't. It's just," Galinda looks up. "I wasn't expecting you to be so..."

"Honest?"

Galinda gulps. "Yes," She says, a little sheepishly.

Elphaba chuckles at her. "It's fine. I understand, I'm not—" Elphaba shakes her head. "I haven't been exactly... open to people."

Galinda hums lowly, inches closer again as if she's going to tell a secret, "Well, people haven't been exactly open to you so, I do understand."

Elphaba laughs and watches Galinda watch her.

It's extremely confusing, changing so abruptly from that cold and unloving environment to one so warm and loving that Elphaba swears she quite literally feels like a flower's petal gently being coaxed to bloom.

Of course, it's not perfect and it's not exactly a comfortable month. After all, it is, a bit, like leaving her, even if not by choice and not the word's meaning at all, comfort zone—how could one be okay with going from having minimal or forced and unpleasant interactions to having daily, welcoming and honest ones without feeling like one's skin is not being peeled of their body just by the genuine tone and want to know if she felt alright after a long day of work?

It's strange. It's good.

"—hungry? We should go down to dinner,"

"Mmm?"

Galinda chuckles bemusedly. "I asked if you were hungry?"

Before Elphaba can answer, she gets up and darts a hand out in Elphaba's direction. Elphaba looks at it, then up at Galinda.

"Let's head down for food, Elphie."

Elphaba rolls her eyes at the nickname but takes her hand and lets herself be pulled to her feet.

It's a Monday afternoon, the sun is low on the horizon, casting the prettiest orange glow outside the Uplands' garden—Elphaba can see its reflection, like tiny shining orange dots, on the drops of water splattered across Larena's plants. Moments ago they had been watering the plants after coming back from work next door, when Galinda surreptitiously and accidentally, or so she claims, splashed Elphaba with the hose. It didn't even get her too wet or anything but she let out a gasp and chased Galinda around with her watering can. Both of them laughing and pretending to run away from each other.

It's on this Monday, when they're midway to finishing the Tigelaar's garden, that Elphaba finds out two things, in no particular order. Finds out, figures out—all the same, she guesses.

The first thing isn't all that important to be honest but it does impact the second one a bit. And the first one one leaves her curious and surprised.

The second one is the important one. It leaves her baffled and giddy, grinning from ear to ear and most of all, full: Galinda is her best friend.

She's the first friend she's had but Elphaba knows she's the best one there ever will be. In the midst of them getting to know each other, a question leads to an answer that leads to another question and soon, Elphaba knows about Galinda's stories and firsts like they've known each other for years. (Which is why she's curious and surprised when she finds out the first thing.)

"What are you smiling at, Miss Thropp?" Galinda asks her, a little curious grin painting her lips. They're sitting on Sargon's Coleman's chairs now, waiting for their drenched clothes to dry. "You're not thinking about starting again, are you? Because I don't think I could; I'm so tired, Elphie." She whines.

Elphaba chuckles. "No, relax. I'm tired, too." As fatigued as she is, the sides of her lips don't droop down however much she needs them to.

"Then what?" Galinda nudges her foot with Elphaba's, smiling still.

Elphaba gulps. Galinda would love the admission of her considering Galinda her best friend, would probably never let Elphaba live it down, actually. So it's a surprise to herself even, when she says, "You're my best friend."

Galinda instantly beams though, and she turns full body to Elphaba in her chair, reaches out a hand to lay beside Elphaba's on the chair's armrest, waiting for her to reach out first.

Elphaba does, lays hers over her hand and interlaces their fingers.

"You're mine, too." She says after a moment, eyes shining with the orange dot too now and, Elphaba thinks, the warmth Elphaba had secretly wished throughout all of her existence.

They're sitting on the dinner table when the first thing is discovered.

"I see you guys had fun this afternoon huh?" Sargon asks, teasing. "I wish I've gotten an invite to that water war outside,"

"Oh, no," Larena whines lowly.

"Back in the day, when we were young," He elbows Larena gently. "We used to live in a house with a bunch of other kids from the same college. To skip, you know, house duties we'd have a weekly watergun fight. Your mother and I, we never lost. They had to change the rules, just for us," He smiles triumphantly at Elphaba and Galinda and then leans down to kiss Larena's cheek soundly.

"Were you already together then?"

"Not yet no, we were best friends first. That's why we always won, communication and knowing each other," He nods.

Elphaba hums. She turns to Galinda, "Do you think you and Fiyero would win a watergun fight?"

Galinda seems to choke on something by Elphaba's side but she's too busy looking between Larena and Sargon who are barely concealing their laughter.

"What?" Elphaba asks, a little amused.

"Elphie..." Galinda turns to her, elegantly dabbing a napkin at her chin. "Do you think Fiyero and I are together?"

Elphaba frowns. "Aren't you?"

"Goodness, no! Fiyero is my best friend. And just that." Because of the new information, Elphaba can only stare at Galinda so she catches her face changing from vexed to a frown and then watches Galinda's lips forming the words, "Oz, he's going to be so upset that he's not the only one now."

"Oh? What do you mean, sweetheart?" Larena asks.

She has a knowing smile on her lips and a light tilt of her left eyebrow so Elphaba knows she's not really asking to know the answer because she already does; all she wants is confirmation.

Galinda's cheeks are pink when she turns to Elphaba.

"Well—"

"Let's just say that if it was up to Galinda and I in a water gun fight, we would win."

There's a bit of silence. Elphaba starts to wonder if she's said something wrong when suddenly the implication of what she just said clicks in her brain.

"I mean— I just meant... Galinda is my best friend, we're best friends, too. Now."

"Oh, Elphie—" Larena whines, a hand over her heart.

"Hey!" Galinda says, crosses her arms indignantly as she narrows her eyes at her mother.

"You're so sweet. Look at you blushing again," Larena practically coos at her.

Her cheeks are so warm. She wishes she could teletransport herself to her room upstairs.

"Only I get to call her Elphie." Galinda murmurs.

"Why, Galinda, we're your parents, why shouldn't we get the right to call her with the brilliant nickname you've come up with?"

"Come up with your own,"

Sargon tsks, shaking his head jokingly at Galinda's behaviour.

Elphaba would say something to appease her—even though she's just being silly so Elphaba's cheeks and breathing and mind could go back to normal after that disastrous moment—but she's afraid of putting her foot in her mouth again.

And even if she knows the performance is for Elphaba's own sake, she can catch — or maybe hopes it's there— a bit of truth to the fact that Galinda doesn't want to share Elphaba with them, or anyone, like this. Like they share with each other. Galinda is sweet. Larena may have called Elphaba that, but between the two of them, Galinda is definitely the sweeter one.

"I think I'm going to go sleep." In what she hopes is a well-mannered and smooth way, Elphaba gets up. "Thank you again Mr and Mrs Upland, for everything," She turns to Galinda. "Good night."

"How many more times are you going to thank us for, Elphie?" Larena asks as Elphaba goes up the stairs.

"However much I feel like, Mrs Upland." She answers, a smile forming.

Larena sighs, shaking her head exasperatedly but fondly.

Galinda can't help but tremble in her seat, wanting to follow after Elphie.

"Go on, then." Larena says. "You're not fooling anyone, you know?"

Galinda gets up from her chair, then she innocently says, "I don't know what you mean, dear mother."

She rounds the table and kisses her mom on her head. "Good night, Momsie." Another head, another kiss. "Popsicle."

"Good night, sweetie pie." Sargon calls after her.

When Galinda enters Elphaba's room, Elphaba is already in bed.

Elphaba honestly went through the motions of brushing her teeth and changing into pyjamas. If somebody were to ask her what the color of her T-shirt or pants were, she would not know.

"Hi," Galinda whispers. Hesitantly, like she hasn't done this before, she tiptoes inside the room, closing the door behind her and then tiptoes until she reaches Elphaba's bed. Waiting for her invitation.

Elphaba lifts the silky sheets for her and watches her face, awaiting for the grin that always splits her lips when Elphaba does things like this.

Lying on their sides, staring at each other, Galinda sighs.

"I can't believe you thought Fiyero was my boyfriend."

Elphaba groans, rolls her eyes and goes to lay on her back, not wanting to look at Galinda while they talked about this. But a hand circles her wrist and locks her in place.

"Elphie, you do know I— I like women, right?"

Elphaba didn't. How would she?

"You didn't?" Galinda frowns. "Then," She gulps, releases Elphaba's wrist which, pathetically, follows her retreat but ends up in the empty space between them on the mattress. "I thought— That day, I thought your f— Frexspar. I thought you fought because of me. Because of that."

"What?"

Galinda closes her eyes and lays on her back. When she looks up, Elphaba has the sudden urge to reach out and smooth the lines on her forehead. "Fresxpar saw me once. We weren't even doing anything, really but he was with Nessa and he saw me and Shenshen holding hands while walking and he started saying all these things—"

"Galinda." Elphaba can't tell if she interrupts because she wants to apologise already, knowing where this is going or if she doesn't let Galinda say what he did or said to her because Elphaba feels the guilt seeping in.

"I don't care anymore. And it's not your fault, Elphie."

It should be scary, the way Galinda seems to know her brain in such a short period.

But it doesn't. "I can still be sorry,"

Galinda smiles at her, lays on her side again. "Thank you," She takes the hand that was starting to feel weirdy placed on the mattress, squeezes once but doesn't let go. "That was when I decided to try again, with you. I figured you could use someone in your side, specially since Nessa seemed— Sorry."

Elphaba's eyebrows pull together. "About what?"

"I know you don't like to talk about her like this."

"Oh..."

"Anyway," Galinda licks her lips. "You know, when you're ready, I'm here. About anything."

Elphaba has an inkling Galinda is not just talking about one or two things here but Elphaba is grateful for the space she gives her to figure it out.

Her best friend and she didn't know Fiyero wasn't her boyfriend or that she liked women, or that her own father had tormented her, too.

Funnily enough, after going no contact with him, Elphaba has the urge to march down there and punch him right in his face. That way, she could imagine everyone asking him what happened and him having to say his adoptive daughter finally got her revenge.

She doesn't realise they fall into silence, staring at each other, eyes half-lidded, while Elphaba's brains come up with imaginative ways for her pent-up and justifiable anger to release: running him over with her truck, or the Uplands' lawnmower, maybe terrorizing him for weeks as if his house suddenly got possessed to then finally nail him—

"Elphie," Galinda murmurs, breaking through her dreaming. The side of her hand warming pleasantly where Galinda's thumb caressess her. "Don't."

Elphaba's eyelids are suddenly heavy, and Galinda's low voice seem to lull her further into an unguarded state. "Don't what, my sweet?"

Galinda's eyes widen. Elphaba, of course, doesn't notice her own invention of a nickname.

"Don't think about him." Galinda murmurs.

Elphaba sighs through her nose, leans her head down, close to Galinda's chest, and huffs out a "Fine."

Their joined hand now rest near Galinda's hips. When she feels Galinda's free hand settle on the back of her neck, pushing her closer until she rests her forehead on Galinda's colarbones, Elphaba hears Galinda exhale shakily. In a few seconds of a thumb running up and down the side of her neck, Elphaba falls asleep. But not after her mouth runs without her permission once again, "Good night, my sweet."

She only realises the nickname once she wakes up in Galinda's arms, her back connected with Galinda's front.

She tries not to panic, tries to think where in Oz that came from but it's all moot—she can't think with Galinda enveloped around her like this.

It's too nice. Too comfortable. Too real.

And too early. It's still night outside.

This hasn't happened yet. They've never fallen asleep together. Galinda, a trait shared with her mother, is talkative so they spend the noght until Elphaba yawns one too many times and Galinda giggles at her, excuses herself and goes back to her own bedroom to sleep.

This is very, very new.

She freezes in place, becomes too aware of her breathing and for a gew seconds tries to control it so it doesn't wake Galinda up.

She vaguely remembers falling asleep hugging Galinda so how they've managed to be... Spooning now, and her as the little one, is a total mystery.

Suddenly, the reason she woke up in the first place, her bladder makes itself known. Carefully, Elphaba extricates herself from Galinda's arms and goes to the bathroom. Sighing in relief once her bladder is empty.

When she comes back to the bedroom, Galinda is awake.

She's sitting now, a shy smile on her lips.

"I didn't mean to fall asleep here, sorry."

Elphaba 's feet moves her forward of their own volition, "No! I mean, don't apologize, it's completely fine." Elphaba smiles. "It's your house, after all."

Galinda frowns and tilts her head. Before she can say something, Elphaba gets back into bed.

After a few moments of finding a comfortable position again, she turns back to see Galinda still sitting and staring at Elphaba.

"Well?" Elphaba teases. "It can't possibly be comfortable to sleep like that,"

"So presumptuous of you. I might just go back to sleep in my own bed, actually." But she's laying down.

Elphaba hums. "Yeah? Who would you cuddle in your sleep, though?" Elphaba smirks. "Maybe you should call Fiyero,"

Galinda gasps, faux shocked. "Not you too! Elphie, don't be jealous, he was my friend first, okay?"

Elphaba snorts. "Jealous? Please."

Galinda uses a finger to run a little line back and forth on Elphaba's uncovered shoulder. "Yes, love, you're turning a bit green,"

Elphaba turns around. Galinda is barely containing her smirk and laughter.

Elphaba lays on her side, facing Galinda on the bed.

"You cheeky little thing,"

Galinda giggles. "I couldn't help it, it was too perfect to let it go,"

Elphaba sighs pretending to be annoyed. "Whatever you say , my—"

Oh, no.

Oh, she had forgotten about that.

A finger pokes her side gently.

"Where did that come from?" Galinda murmurs. "You've said it twice before."

Elphaba swallows. "I—" She pauses, shaking her head and frowning.

"I like it," Galinda smiled at her.

Elphaba smiles back. "I didn't even realise I said it until I woke up to go to the bathroom just now."

Galinda hums. "Well, you can keep calling me that if you want."

"It depends."

"On what?"

"If your secret for the night is good, I'll keep you calling you sweet,"

"Mm. That's not what you said before though,"

Elphaba bites her cheek. "My sweet."

"Yes?"

Playfully, Elphaba's feet nudges Galinda's shin underneath the sheet.

"Alright." She perfects her position then closes her eyes, making a show out of it. Elphaba smiles softly at her. "Let me think,"

"Take your time," Elphaba teases in a whispering voice. "It's not like it's two in the morning or anything,"

"Shhh, Elphie, I'm thinking," Galinda's hand fly out from underneath her head to lay a finger over Elphaba's mouth. How Galinda didn't miss the right spot is a mystery seeing as her eyes were still closed.

Elphaba murmurs an okay through laughter and takes Galinda's finger from her lips, intertwining their hands.

It takes a few silent minutes of Elphaba wartching Galinda's closed eyed face, until she eventually opens them and murmurs her answer.

"I love Fiyero, I really do. But, you and I... It just feels so easy between us. I know I'm your only friend and that I've had other friends before you but," She licks her lips. "Elphie, I'm always me when I'm with you. You're, like... My truest friend," She shakes their joined hands with a gentle smile that hides a little bit of sadneds behind it. "You're the friend that matters."

Finally, Elphaba thinks, finally something good — someone good in her life.

And then, she ruins everything.

It's as her father and Nessa used to say to each other whenever Nessa thought Elphaba wasn't listening: she wants too much, you give her a hand she wants your entire body, she's too needy.

Here Elphaba is, stading inside her new apartment, sitting outside the little balcony with Galinda, and realising she wants more.

More than money, more than the apartment, more than friendship with the woman next to her.

Elphaba swallows.

She's a little better at talking about herself and about her wants and needs now.

But not this. Never this.

She has never felt this before.

Another realisation hits her and it makes her breath hitch: how many first has she had with Galinda?

How could she possibly want more? Ask for more?

Selfish.

The word is thrown around and around a d around her brain.

She catches it, though. Gives it a place, ties a leash around its neck, walks around with it, giving it more thought than letting it dictate them.

She sighs. No, not selfish. Elphaba Thropp isn't selfish for wanting Galinda Arduenna Upland.

She's foolish and innocent and hopeful. But not selfish.

"I was thinking," Galinda breaks the silence. "Maybe I could help with rent?"

Elphaba closes her eyes with a sigh. “Galinda..."

"Hear me out first, okay?" She turns, wide eyed and a little smile on her lips, towards Elphaba, palms outwards, "Just imagine coming back from a long day of work. You're all sweaty and tired and so, so, so hungry, but," She tsks and hits her thigh. "You still gotta cook. So you open the fridge, to make something quick, I'm guessing a sad little sandwich that'll make you feel hungry in just about two to three hours, right? But wait, where's the bread? Where's the cheese? You remember you were supposed to go grocery shopping."

Elphaba stares at her, amused. "So what you're saying is I can't take care of myself?"

"No! "Course not, Elphie." She turns a little serious with a tilt of her head. "You've done that your whole life."

Elphaba smiles sadly and looks away.

"All I'm saying is... I could be your roommate."

"Roommate, you say,"

"Mmhm. And I'd cook for you and we could go grocery shopping together and oh, just imagine us sitting here after cleaning the apartment and just talking about everything or just sitting in silence while watching the sunset," Galinda sighs dreamily. "Oh, Elphie, please?" She drags out the word.

Elphaba laughs. "I was only going to say you don't need to help with the rent. Your parents helped me enough already. Probably for a lifetime,"

"Absolutely not! I will help with the rent. What do you take me for, Elphaba Thropp?"

Elphaba giggles again. Lets herself forget her own pining, brushes it under a rug as she helps Galinda move in.

Funnily enough, the realisation comes on a Monday.

Since she had gotten her job as the Church members' gardener, Elphaba realises she had been counting days. Her weeks started on Monday but they never finished—Elphaba Thropp had lived like a ghost until she'd been thrust out of her adoptive father's home.

She casts a glance around the living room, bathed in pink and green.

Galinda and Elphaba.

The pink fluffy rug and the two beige vases with split leaf philodendron in them, the light green throw blanket draped underneath Elphaba on the sofa, the gold forks and spoons and knifes. Every single item inside this apartment represents a change Elphaba has gone through; minimal or monstrous or anything in between: Elphaba has changed.

And it started with Mrs Manglehead on one cold afternoon after the last day of high school. It had been a particularly difficult day for Elphaba—coming back home early had put her in Frexspar's steadfast radar. She had bruises all over her back and tummy. To this day, Elphaba doesn't know if she'd left her t-shirt purposefully un-tucked or if it was her subconscious trying to get her help, it doesn’t matter anymore she figures. Mrs Manglehead had expertly coaxed the truth out of her. Elphaba thinks it wasn’t the first time she’s had to do the same thing with a kid—it was probably a somewhat frequent occurrence in the school she used to teach, the one who followed the Unnamed God in the most literal way possible.

She’s extremely grateful for Mrs Manglehead, no matter how much pain it had been necessary for her to notice Elphaba. And not only because she made Elphaba realise there was, at least, one person who actually cared about her despite her green skin, despite every trouble she’s caused and every sin she represents, Mrs Manglehead suggested Elphaba keep a journal.

Sometimes, when she needed a new perspective or just to remind herself of how far she’d come, Elphaba would reread some of her little notebooks.

And that, along with where she is now, is what makes her eyes water

“Elphie,” Galinda approaches her, towel wrapped around her body, blonde wet hair falling down her shoulders and dripping water down her collarbones and then hitting her towel. “What’s going on, my sweet?”

Elphaba snorts wetly. “That’s my nickname for you.”

Galinda softens, realising Elphaba is probably not hurt. “Yes, well, you are sweet and you’re min—,” Elphaba catches her swallowing and eyebrows pulling together, “My best friend.”

“That’s not fair at all.”

“Why?”

“Those are also my reasons,”

Galinda smiles softly at her. She sits down on the coffee table in front of where Elphaba sits on the sofa and whispers, “Come here.” Opening her arms and welcoming Elphaba into her warmth.

Yes, she’s changed.

But is it enough? Enough to go follow what she wants, to believe she deserves to do that? That she is worthy of it?

Well.

Maybe.

She calls Fiyero. Something she never would have done; not because it’s Fiyero, but because she’s actively seeking out help. She’s talking. About something that is on her mind. To someone that isn’t Nessa.

“I think you should tell her.”

“Tell her what, Fiyero? How do you tell the only person that you can talk to about anything—the only one since birth—that you want to kiss her?”

“Kiss her? I’d say with how you’ve been so pent up that you want more than a simple kiss.”

Elphaba lightly kicks the chair he’s been balancing off the ground and he stumbles a bit before stopping the chair from falling over.

“Hey!”

“That’s what you deserve for being a pervert.”

“Pervert? Oh, please. Out of the three of us Galinda is the most per—” He looks at Elphaba and pauses. Sighing deeply, his face turns serious. “Look, I promise you. This won’t ruin your friendship,”

“How would you know that?”

“Because! You’re Elphaba and Galinda.”

“That answers nothing.”

He sighs again. “Wanna know what I think?”

“That’s exactly why I called you here,”

“I think that if you sit down with her, like you’d do any other day and really, really pay close attention to Galinda, you’ll find your answer there.”

“My answer to what? What do you mean?”

Fiyero rolls his eyes, “Oh, you know, the way she behaves with you.”

“…Is the same way she behaves with you.”

Fiyero purses his lips, looks at the ceiling with his thinking face on, “True but there’s a difference. And that difference is what you want to gauge.”

“Gauge for what? If she likes me back?”

“No, Elphaba, if she wants to kill you… Of course if she likes you back, have you never liked anyone before?” He asks incredulously but also a bit jokingly.

Elphaba stays quiet. Partially thinking about his theory and also not wanting to answer his question.

“Elphaba Thropp! That’s impossible,”

“I—”

“Before you start babbling on about your green skin, that doesn’t mean anything. You can like people without them liking you back, without doing anything about it… Haven’t you really? Never?”

“I can’t like someone if they’re bullying me, I’m not a masochist.”

Fiyero makes a face. She kicks his chair again.

“I’m not!”

“Well, then why do you like torturing yourself? I’m pretty sure everyone in Oz thinks you and Galinda are fucking already.”

“Fiyero!”

“What?” He whines. “Oh, sorry, I didn’t know you didn’t curse,” He rolls his eyes.

“You’re impossible.” She gets up. “And annoying and I can’t believe I came to you with this.”

“You came to me with this because you know other than you, I’m the only one who knows Galinda best.”

“And her parents.”

“Yes, well, tip of the iceberg and all that.”

Elphaba rolls her eyes at him, opening the apartment door. “Alright, thank you for your input. I will consider talking to her—”

“Which means you won’t,” He gets up as well. Walks to her direction.

“—and I will pay close attention to Galinda to see… You didn’t specify the question so I’m not sure what I’ll be looking for but I will. Do that.”

Fiyero stops in front of her, raises his hands to her shoulders, squeezes once and lowers his head to find her eyes. “Trust me, you will not end up alone if she doesn’t feel the same. I promise you.”

Elphaba believes him. The sincerity in his eyes and the firmness in which he said the words are indication enough that he will be there for her, no matter what happens. It’s why she hugs him, she thinks.

He lets out a surprised yelp but hugs her back.

“You’re such a softie.”

“Shut up.”

“Oh, what’s going on?” Galinda steps out of the elevator. Elphaba feels her hand settle on her lower back, warm and grounding and she lets go of Fiyero to push herself back into it slightly.

She turns to face Galinda’s curious gaze. “Hi. I thought you were coming back late today?”

Galinda’s hand slides until she’s cupping Elphaba’s waist and pulling her closer, their sides touching. “Hi.” She smiles. “I was but I decided future-me would handle whatever I couldn’t today.”

Fiyero snorts in front of them and Elphaba is reminded they’re not alone. She feels her cheeks warm.

“’Course you did.” Fiyero jogs a little to catch the elevator before it leaves, presses the button and then turns back towards them. He puts a hand over his heart, “Aren’t you two just precious?” He says. “Bye, lovebirds,” He winks and steps inside.

Elphaba feels Galinda’s gaze so she turns, “What was that about?”

“No idea. He’s your best friend, not mine.”

“Mmm, certainly looked like you two were cosy,”

Elphaba rolls her eyes, takes Galinda’s hand and tugs them inside the apartment.

“Don’t worry, I’m not stealing him from you.” She says. Lets go of Galinda’s hand to close the door behind her. “He’s too insufferable, I’d kill him in two days.”

Galinda hums again.

“How was work?” Elphaba asks.

“Good. Boring. Nothing new,” Galinda enters her room and comes back out two seconds later. Elphaba sits on the sofa. “Yours?”

“Miss Coddle was being a bitch, the sky was blue and I was green,” Elphaba grins at Galinda.

She rolls her eyes, “Did Fiyero bother you too much? I hope not, I don’t want you to leave.”

“Galinda, we’ve been roommates for months now. I’m not leaving.”

She sits down next to Elphaba on the couch with a heavy sigh. “If you say so, Elphie. Dinner?”

“I left you some of what you made me for lunch,”

Galinda squeezes her hand and gets up, “Wine?”

Elphaba cringes at the taste of a red. “Whisky?” She asks hopeful, turning around on the back of the sofa to look at Galinda while she flits about the kitchen.

Galinda giggles. “Are you sure Fiyero didn’t annoy you at all?”

Elphaba snorts uncomfortably adjusting her position in the sofa when her mind reminds her what they talked about. “Unfortunately, he did not.”

When Galinda sits back down on her side, leaving Elphaba’s glass in the coffee table, Elphaba remembers Fiyero’s advice. She takes a tiny sip of the drink and sets it back down before turning her body entirely towards Galinda, locking in her task.

Galinda is wearing the pink sleeveless dress Elphaba loves so much. Elphaba suppresses a snort remembering how she reacted when she first saw Galinda in it. Jaw dropped, eyes wide, lips parted and attention unwavering on the smooth, peachy and bare skin the piece allowed. She’d chalked it up to admiration. Elphaba sighs and shakes her head. Clueless. Galinda’s hair is up in a messy bun, flyaway hairs framing her face beautifully. The sides of her lips have a faint red line; the wine’s fault. Elphaba likes to sit with her feet up on the coffee table, usually, but now that she copies Galinda’s habitual one, she can’t help but think if it’s her preference for the same reason Elphaba is currently hugging her legs to her chest with one arm, while the other rests on the back of the sofa, her chin resting on her knees.

Galinda’s soft expression smooths into amusement when she adjusts herself, finding Elphaba staring at her. “Hello.”

Elphaba smiles. Galinda blushes. “Comfortable?”

“Why? What are we doing?”

Elphaba purses her lips. “Nothing. I just think I understand now why you like sitting like this so much.”

Galinda swirls her wine glass, “Why’s that?” Her voice is dejected but the blush deepens a bit.

Elphaba decides to lean into that.

“The view is nice.”

Galinda blinks. “Your back is to the balcony, Elphie,” She whispers, weakly, confusedly, adorably.

“Mmm.” Elphaba catches Galinda’s eyes straying down.

Galinda takes a sip of her glass. “Talk to Nessa?”

Elphaba nods. “She says she wants to crash here this weekend. Is that alright?”

Galinda pulls her eyebrows together. “Of course it’s alright. It’s your house. Goodness, what is your sister going to think of me if you have to ask my permission for her to sleep over?”

Elphaba rolls her eyes. “Don’t worry about what Nessa thinks of you.” Elphaba sighs, momentarily forgetting about her secret mission. “Every day that she stays glued to that man, she gets closer to having his mentality.”

Galinda scoots a bit closer, not quite touching but close enough that Elphaba doesn’t have to move her hand too much to lay it on her bare knee.

“You should nudge her to move with us,”

“I tried that. The day he kicked me out.”

Galinda doesn’t say anything to that. It’s a silence for a few seconds.

Then, “What happened that day, Elphie?”

Elphaba looks up from where her hands fidgeted. Her breath hitches. Galinda is close yes but her eyes are pleading, and it’s such a genuine worry etched there that Elphaba feels like it’s palpable.

She takes her glass back, takes a sip and puts it down again. “He didn’t want me to associate with Fiyero’s parents.”

“But… why? They’re so nice,”

Elphaba snorts, a little anger rising. “Exactly. When I was a kid I used to joke, to myself of course, that Frexspar’s last name was a shortened version of a devil’s name.” She laughs. “It’s probably true, though. He’s… Awful.”

She studies Galinda’s face, remembering how she’d noticed the difference in Elphaba’s green shades that day.

“You knew, didn’t you? That he hit me?”

Galinda’s hand finds her, tangling their fingers together. “Not for sure.”

Elphaba draws a circle on the back of Galinda’s hand. “It used to be so much worse… Than a slap to the face, than the frequency he would hit me. Mrs Manglehead saw one of them; purple bruises on my hips.” Elphaba tongues her cheek. “She saved my life that day, I wanted nothing more than to disappear. I had lost all hope,” Galinda scoots closer. “Frexspar doesn’t accept anything if it’s not conservative. Baxiana and Marillot Tigelaar are anything but that. To be honest I don’t know how or why he didn’t say anything about me working at your parents house. Specially since you told me that he knew about you.”

“He’s not very smart, that’s why. And I’m glad for that ‘cause I love having you in my life.” Galinda says. She must sense Elphaba’s begging for a pause in the heavy topic. “Even if you can be dense sometimes,”

Elphaba’s brow furrow, “Excuse me?”

Galinda giggles. “Oh, come on Elphie. You know I’m not lying,”

“What in Oz are you talking about?”

Galinda sighs. “Nothing.” She sips her wine. “So. Nessa. Moving in. Why didn’t she come?”

Elphaba shakes her head. “I don’t understand how two people can be raised by the same person and know entirely different sides of them.”

“You weren’t raised by him, though. You practically raised yourself.”

“I know, I just.” She sighs. “It’s like she’s completely blinded by his fatherly love or whatever.”

“She doesn’t know what she’s missing. Living with you is heavenly,”

Elphaba’s eyebrows rise sceptically.

“What?” Galinda questions.

“You’re constantly bugging me about things.”

“No,” Galinda shakes her head, an accusatory finger pointed up, “No, I am not. Not about things.”

Elphaba frowns.

Galinda pushes Elphaba by her shoulder lightly. “I am bugging you because I want you to spend time with me, Elphaba Thropp,”

“I do spend time with you. We’re spending time together right now, Galinda Upland,”

“Yes, but that’s after many, many, many unsuccessful attempts over the year.”

“Come to think of it, you were very… Clingy.” Galinda blushes, eyes wide, and Elphaba laughs.

“You take that back right now, Elphie or so help me, Oz—“

Elphaba laughs harder. “Or what?” She didn’t mean for it to come out as breathy, as flirty as it did but she’s glad for it because—and when she thinks back later about this moment, she will curse herself for being so cliche—there it is, what Fiyero wanted her to look for.

It’s so short, merely half a second but Elphaba catches it; has been catching it but only now can put a name to it.

Galinda’s eyes droop down again, but this time her head, almost without her meaning to, sways forward slightly, towards Elphaba and before Elphaba would chalk it up to anything except to what she understands now.

So she leans forward, her hand that Galinda had circled with her own reaches up to cup the back of her neck, pulling Galinda to her—not forceful but not lightly, merely a suggestion that Galinda didn’t have to stop. Their lips meet and Elphaba feels her entire body sagging, she practically melts. When one of Galinda’s hands find purchase in Elphaba’s waist, she leans back a bit. The feel of Galinda’s hand on her body shouldn’t be a novelty to her—Galinda has a serious case of need to touch whenever they are close—but in this context and with the way she lightly caresses Elphaba’s side until she reaches the back of her neck, fingers in between her braids, tugging her closer, well. Elphaba lets out a groan.

She would be embarrassed, having never kissed anyone before she doesn’t really know how it works but she suspects this enthusiastic response to a mere slide of lips is not acceptable, except Galinda seems emboldened by it, smoothly getting on her knees without stopping their kiss or taking her hands out of Elphaba’s hair and waist, to straddle her on the sofa.

Elphaba feels warmth race down her body, thick and sluggish like honey, when Galinda settles down, her ass grinding down Elphaba’s inner thigh.

“Elphie,” Galinda murmurs.

Elphaba doesn’t know what she’s doing but she’s not thinking about that as she finally, finally follows her desires in this life and kisses Galinda again. Slow and deliberate. Feeling pleasure with the way Galinda kisses her back. Elphaba gasps when Galinda lightly bites down on her lower lip which is in seconds being soothed by Galinda’s tongue.

Elphaba groans again, a shaky and low thing.

“Elphie,”

“Galinda,”

Galinda kisses her again. Open-mouthed, tongues touching each other. Messy. Dizzying.

“I’ve wanted to kiss you for so long.”

Elphaba opens her eyes. Galinda is so beautiful it makes her chest hurt. It makes her want to tug her down again, to kiss her jaw and then her neck and the little dimple on her cheek. She does so slowly, all the while listening to Galinda’s heavy breathing.

“How long?”

Galinda tugs her head upwards to kiss her again.

“Too long.”

Elphaba can empathise with that feeling all too well.