Nap time
Glinda had known this conversation was coming.
It was only a matter of time before Lady Upland decided to corner her, to dissect her choices, to nudge her back toward the path she had always been expected to follow.
The moment breakfast ended, she caught Elphaba’s sleeve, squeezing lightly. “Are you coming?”
Elphaba exhaled a slow breath, rubbing the bridge of her nose. “I think I need to sleep for at least two hours before I attempt to exist again.”
Glinda bit back a smile.“That bad?”
Elphaba gave her a flat look. “Your mother just spent forty-five minutes trying to determine whether or not I’m a civilized human being. I deserve compensation.”
Glinda giggled softly, nudging her toward the stairs. “Fine, fine. I’ll let you recover.”
Elphaba was already halfway up, stretching her arms over her head as she disappeared down the hall.
Glinda turned, fully prepared to slip away herself, when—
“A moment, darling.”
Damn it.
She forced a smile, smoothing down the front of her dress before stepping into the sunlit sitting room.
Her mother was already seated, crossing her legs elegantly, her fingers curled delicately around the stem of a half-finished flute of champagne.
Glinda perched on the edge of the chaise across from her, resisting the urge to fidget.
Lady Upland studied her for a moment before speaking, her tone carefully neutral.“You’ve changed.”
Glinda blinked.“Have I?”
Her mother tilted her head slightly. “You’re more self-assured than you used to be. A touch more… independent.”
Glinda knew better than to take that as a compliment.
She simply smiled. “I suppose Shiz is doing its job, then.”
Her mother hummed. “And your social engagements? I assume you’re still making yourself visible at all the right places.”
There it was.
Glinda took a measured breath.“I’ve been focusing on other things.”
Lady Upland arched a delicate brow.“Other things?”
Glinda tilted her head slightly, schooling her expression into something sweetly contemplative.“Momsie, do you ever think there’s more to life than just… all of this?”
Her mother’s gaze sharpened immediately.“What do you mean?”
Glinda swirled the champagne flute that had been left on the table, watching the bubbles rise to the surface. “I mean… maybe marriage isn’t the only path to a fulfilling life.”
The words hung heavily in the air.
Lady Upland set her glass down. “You’ve always been ambitious, Glinda, but let’s not be naive. You know as well as I do how this world works.”
Glinda kept her tone light, casual.“Do I?”
Her mother studied her for a moment, voice gentle but firm.“Darling, is there something you’d like to tell me?”
Glinda’s pulse quickened.
She wasn’t sure why she had pushed it this far.
It wasn’t like her to test the limits of what was acceptable.
And yet—
Something in her itched to do it.
She held her mother’s gaze. “I just think it’s interesting that people expect women like us to settle down before we’ve even figured out what we truly want.”
Lady Upland’s expression did not waver.
Glinda knew that look.
The one that said tread carefully.
She had pushed enough for today.
So, she smiled, light and airy.“Just a thought, of course.”
Her mother exhaled through her nose, picking up her glass once more.“I see.”
Silence stretched between them.
Then—
Lady Upland smiled, small and just tight enough to be warning.“Your father and I only want what’s best for you, darling.”
Glinda nodded once, pressing her hands into her lap. “Of course.”
Lady Upland’s gaze lingered for a moment longer before she stood gracefully.
“Enjoy the rest of your morning, dear.”
Glinda waited until she left.
Waited until the door clicked shut.
Waited until she could finally breathe.
Then, without hesitating, she stood, glancing toward the stairs.
She wasn’t entirely sure why her feet were carrying her there, but—
Elphaba had said her door was open.
And after that conversation, Glinda wasn’t sure she wanted to be alone.
The room was silent, save for the soft rhythm of Elphaba’s breathing.
Glinda moved quietly, slipping inside with familiar ease. She didn’t hesitate—she didn’t need to.
It was warm inside, the air still laced with the lingering scent of Elphaba—something faintly herbal, something comforting.
Elphaba was sprawled on her stomach, one arm tucked beneath the pillow, the other stretched lazily across the bed. Her breathing was deep, slow, steady.
Glinda hesitated only briefly before sliding beneath the covers, shifting carefully so as not to disturb her.
For a moment, nothing happened.
Then—
A quiet shift.
A slow inhale.
A sleepy exhale.
Then—a tug.
Glinda barely had time to process it before Elphaba, still half-asleep, reached for her—pulling her in close, tucking her against her chest, pressing a slow, lazy kiss to the top of her head.
Glinda’s breath caught.
“Elphie,” she whispered, surprised.
Elphaba only hummed, half-conscious, her voice low and rough with sleep.“You’re warm.”
Glinda swallowed, smiling softly into the fabric of Elphaba’s shirt.
She let her fingers brush lightly over Elphaba’s side, absorbing the weight of her, the heat of her, the comfort of being held.
Elphaba nuzzled closer, tighter, safer.
Glinda felt her lips brush against her hair again, a quiet affection, a silent acknowledgment.
And then—
“Stay.”
A single word, mumbled softly into the quiet.
Not a demand.
Not a question.
Just a sleepy, honest request.
Glinda smiled, heart twisting, stomach fluttering.
She let her eyes drift closed, pressing herself just a little closer, fingers curling into Elphaba’s shirt.
And she did.
Elphaba’s phone had been vibrating for hours.
The first few times, she ignored it.
Then, after Glinda had practically pinned her to the bed, mumbling something about it being “too early for chaos,” she shoved it under her pillow and let herself drift back to sleep.
Now, though—now it was late afternoon, and reality was waiting.
She propped herself on her elbow, still tangled in the sheets, and grabbed her phone with reluctance.
Missed Calls:
Frex (8), Nessarose (5), Nanny (2)
Text Messages:
Nessarose (9), Frex (3), Nanny (1)
Elphaba sighed deeply and decided to call Nanny first.
The moment she picked up, her voice was frazzled but warm.
“Fabala, dear, where are you?”
Elphaba shifted onto her back, one hand resting on her stomach as she stared up at the ceiling.
“Frottica.”
A pause. Then—“With that Upland girl?”
Elphaba huffed a breath. “Yes, Nanny. With that Upland girl.”
Another pause. Then, a soft sigh. “Your father is furious.”
Elphaba closed her eyes briefly.“Of course, he is.”
“And Nessarose… well.”
Elphaba already knew what that meant.
Still, she asked.
“Has she been—?
“Praying?” Nanny finished for her. “Yes.”
Elphaba’s fingers tightened around the phone.
She swallowed the burning frustration rising in her throat and forced her voice to stay level.
“I’ll call her.”
Nanny hesitated. “Fabala… are you alright?”
Elphaba’s jaw tensed.
She knew what Nanny meant.
She meant—are you breaking?Are you holding up under the weight of everything they say about you?
Elphaba wet her lips. “I’m fine.”
Nanny didn’t believe her.
But she didn’t push.
“Alright, dear. You call if you need anything.”
Elphaba let out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding.“I will.”
She hung up.
Text Log
Nessarose (8:42 AM): Father says you’re ignoring us. That’s cruel, Fabala.
Nessarose (8:57 AM): I hope you know what you’re doing. I really, really do.
Nessarose (9:30 AM): I’ve prayed for you every night. I don’t know if you even care.
Nessarose (9:35 AM): Come home.
Frex (10:07 AM): You’re being childish.
Frex (11:14 AM): You cannot keep running from your family, Fabala. You have responsibilities here.
Frex (11:42 AM): Come home before you regret this.
And then, before she could talk herself out of it—
She called Nessarose.
“Where are you?”
No greeting. No hesitation. Just pure, unwavering disapproval.
Elphaba exhaled slowly and sat up fully, swinging her legs over the side of the bed.
“Good to hear your voice, Nessa.”
“You left.”
Elphaba rubbed her temple.“I did.”
A sharp inhale. “Why?”
Elphaba’s stomach twisted.
She knew what Nessa wanted her to say.
She wanted her to admit fault, to repent, to come crawling back home.
She wanted her to say, “You’re right, I should be there, I should be better.”
But she wouldn’t.
Not this time.
“I left because I couldn’t stay,” Elphaba said simply.
Nessa’s breath shook.“You mean you ran away.”
Elphaba’s teeth clenched.“I left before I said something I couldn’t take back.”
Her voice wasn’t angry now.
It was worse.
It was disappointed.
“You could have stayed, Fabala.”
Elphaba tilted her head back, staring at the ceiling. “No, Nessa, I couldn’t have.”
Her sister’s voice was tight, thin, breaking apart at the edges.“This isn’t just about you.”
Elphaba’s chest ached.
She knew.
She knew.
But what Nessa didn’t understand—what she refused to understand—was that Elphaba had never been given a choice.
She had never been welcome.
Frex had tolerated her at best.
Nessarose had loved her, in the way someone loves a stray dog that they believe can still be trained.
And Shell…
Shell had been the only one who had ever truly seen her.
But even he wouldn’t be able to protect her forever.
So she had left.
And she wasn’t sorry.
Not yet.
Elphaba exhaled, pressing the heel of her hand to her temple. “Nessa, I—”
“I prayed for you.”
Elphaba’s entire body went rigid.
“I pray for you every night, Fabala.”
Elphaba stared ahead, feeling something cold settle into her bones.
Nessa’s voice was soft, aching.“It’s not too late. If you repent now, you can still be saved.”
Elphaba’s hands curled into fists.
She should hang up.
She should tell her that she wasn’t coming back.
She should tell her that she had never believed in salvation.
Instead— she said nothing.
Because the truth was, there was nothing to say.
Nessarose would never change.
And neither would she.
The silence stretched too long, too thick, too heavy.
Then, finally—
“I have to go.”
She ended the call before Nessa could say anything else.
Elphaba sat there for a moment, phone clutched too tightly in her hand.
Then, slowly, she exhaled.
And turned toward the bed.
Glinda was awake.
And she had seen everything.
Her soft, blue eyes flickered between Elphaba’s face and the white-knuckled grip on her phone.
Elphaba flexed her fingers, loosening her grip.
Glinda shifted, sitting up fully, still sleep-warm and tangled in the covers.
She didn’t say anything.
She just lifted her arms slightly.
An invitation.
Elphaba hesitated.
Then—wordlessly, stiffly, tiredly—
She let herself fall into them.
Glinda curled her arms around her, warm and steady and grounding.
And for the first time in years—
Elphaba didn’t feel like she had to brace herself.
She just… let herself be held.