What is this feeling?
Glinda wasn’t sure what had compelled her to text Fiyero again, but she had. And when he had responded with a simple, Be there in five, she hadn’t stopped him.
Now, she was lying on her bed, her body pressed beneath his, lips moving against his in a way that should have felt natural.
It didn’t.
Fiyero was a good kisser. He always had been. He knew exactly where to touch, how to move, how to pull sounds from her throat that should have made her breathless. And yet, as his hands trailed down her waist, sliding up the soft fabric of her camisole, Glinda felt… something. Just not what she should have been feeling.
She gasped when his lips found the hollow of her throat, his teeth scraping lightly before soothing the spot with his tongue. His hands roamed, pushing her camisole up inch by inch, his palm warm against her ribs. Glinda arched slightly into him, muscle memory dictating her movements even as her mind drifted somewhere else.
"Relax, my love," Fiyero murmured, his voice low, amused, intoxicating. "You’re wound so tight."
Glinda let out a soft, breathy laugh, threading her fingers through his hair, guiding him back to her lips. She kissed him harder, more insistent, determined to chase the feeling she was supposed to have.
Fiyero’s hands slipped lower, brushing over her hips, his fingers dipping beneath the waistband of her shorts. Heat pooled in her stomach, but it wasn’t from him—it was from the fleeting thought she couldn’t push away. The wrong hands. The wrong lips. The wrong person.
Green skin. Dark eyes. Sharp cheekbones and the ghost of a smirk.
Her stomach flipped—
Not because of Fiyero.
Glinda’s eyes snapped open. Panic lodged itself in her throat.
"Stop."
Fiyero immediately pulled back, concern flickering across his features as he hovered above her. "Glinda?"
She pressed a shaky hand against his chest, creating distance. Needed air. Needed space. "I— I can’t."
Fiyero studied her for a second, then sighed and rolled off her, flopping onto his back beside her. Neither of them spoke.The silence stretched between them, thick and heavy, until—
"It’s not me, is it?" His voice was soft. Not hurt. Just… knowing.
Glinda bit her lip. Felt something inside her crack open. "No. It’s not."
Fiyero let out a long exhale, rubbing a hand over his face. "I figured."
Glinda turned onto her side, propping herself up on one elbow. "You figured?"
He let out a short laugh, shaking his head. "Glinda, I love you, but you have been highly suspicious since the moment you got to Shiz."
She swallowed hard. "I don’t— I didn’t think—"
"That you liked girls?" He turned his head toward her, eyes gentle, teasing but not cruel.
Glinda’s throat closed. No, that can’t be it. Can it?
Fiyero gave her a moment. Didn’t push. Just let her sit in it, let her feel it.
Finally, she whispered, "I think I’ve always known. I just didn’t want to."
Fiyero smiled, small and understanding. "Yeah. I get that."
Glinda blinked at him. "You do?"
"Of course I do." He rolled onto his side, mirroring her position. "Glinda, I’m bisexual. You know that. I spent years trying to prove to myself I liked girls more—as if it was some kind of competition. Took me forever to realize I didn’t have to pick a side."
Glinda let out a soft, breathy laugh. "Fiyero, I’m not bisexual."
His brows lifted slightly before a slow smirk tugged at his lips. "No?"
She shook her head. The weight of the words felt terrifying. Liberating. "No."
Fiyero watched her for a long moment, then reached out, tucking a loose curl behind her ear. "You don’t have to figure it all out tonight."
Glinda’s chest ached with gratitude. "Thank you."
Fiyero grinned, his usual charm returning. "Of course. But, uh, just so we’re clear—"
She rolled her eyes, already knowing what was coming. "Yes, you can still flirt with me, and yes, you can sleep over."
"Excellent." He leaned back, hands behind his head. "And for the record, I completely ship you and Elphaba."
Glinda groaned, flopping onto her back. "Oz help me."
Fiyero laughed, tossing a pillow at her.
Glinda caught it, hugging it to her chest, a small smile lingering on her lips. Then, after a beat, she sighed dramatically. "You really have been the best beard, Yero."
Fiyero snorted. "Oh, absolutely. I deserve an award for my service."
Glinda giggled, nudging his arm. "Seriously, though. Thank you. For everything."
He gave her a soft smile, something genuine in his gaze. "Anytime, my love. And just so you know—when you and Elphaba inevitably get together, I expect a front-row seat to all the drama."
She rolled her eyes, laughing. "Go to sleep, Yero."
Before she could turn away, Fiyero caught her wrist, tugging her back toward him just slightly. "One last kiss, for old times' sake?"
Glinda hesitated for half a second before leaning in, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to his lips. It wasn’t passionate. It wasn’t fiery. It was a goodbye—an affectionate parting between two people who had played a role in each other’s lives for so long, and were now stepping into something new.
She pulled back with a small, grateful smile. "Thank you."
Fiyero smirked, letting his fingers trail down her wrist before releasing her. "Anytime."
He grinned, stretching out beside her. "Sweet dreams, Glinda."
And for the first time in a long time, Glinda felt like she could breathe.