Galinda had thought it too unfair, too unnerving, too uncanny, how that distasteful and wretched girl had managed to steal away her best chance at becoming a sorceress.
It was unbearable, really, to watch her walk Shiz's halls with one leafy arm curled around Madame Morrible's, pressing thick books against her chest.
Oh, and what was most unbelievable: every night, she sat in bed with a small lantern by her side, preparing for the time they had to turn their lights off, and when the late hour came, as Galinda had no choice but to hiss and whine for her to close her book at last, just as she raised her head from her silk pillowcase with a scoff that Elphaba wouldn't acknowledge, she could see her, undisturbed, lit by flame, and she thought her undeniably beautiful.
Later, as she felt the clear beginning of their Later unfold between those same four walls, she told her so.
"You're beautiful."
What remained unclear to her was the reason for Elphaba's swift escape. Perhaps the sleepless night had worn her past a point of logic and mindfulness.
Then again, the girl wasn't one for graceful exits, and Galinda found herself unbothered by her hastiness. In the wake of their Later, or their After, however one might call it, she thought it most thrilling, the unspent time together they owed one another.
And time, there would be. Galinda, unconcerned, thought time was the one thing they both had plenty of.
Their path ahead lay even, the walk was steady.
Until, unguarded one night, falling victim to the treachery of their previously creaky bedroom door, as Galinda practiced their earlier sorcery lesson with itchy, hot skin, keeping in mind the skill of levitating a coin with her hand wouldn't truly matter in the future, a foreign palm rested on her shoulder.
"Reach forward," Elphie told her, successfully sneaking her way to helping Galinda, something she had repeatedly refused.
But she didn't, because the stomach-twisting, wind-knocking aspect of Elphie's startle wasn't over before she began to slide her fingers along her arm, and after that, the aftershock seemed to morph into a constant.
"There," Elphie said in a low voice, unhelpfully.
Galinda mused later that night that there was a different Later, or After, whichever one was preferred, she hadn't considered possible.
How unimaginable, how unforgiving that out of every Ozian, tall or short, gentle or rowdy, out of every breath that caught as Galinda breezed past it, her heartbeat had chosen to skip at the most unlikely one to skip at all.
On that night, Galinda didn't puff her cheeks and wrinkle her forehead. She stared unabashedly at Elphaba, at her profile cutting through the darkness of the walls that closed in on them, curling as the flame threatened to yield.
How unfair. How unnerving. How uncanny.
***
Elphaba had thought her unreasonable, planted firmly behind the crate that cradled some of many physical manifestations of a coddled childhood. Galinda had most of all there was to have, yet wanted more.
Her smirk came, for once, involuntarily. Elphaba had something no amount of patterned pink dresses and sustained eyelash batting could obtain: Madame Morrible's mentorship. Elphaba had the thing Galinda wanted, which she assumed was quite unexpected for the girl, given the significant amount of aforementioned eyelash batting happening inside their room.
She didn't mind the resentment her denial built. Elphaba had rarely been anything other than resented. Its form did, however, spark curiosity.
Unexpectedly came the days in which their arguments weren't arguments at all. There would be a sense of a disagreement, not unnatural, appeased by quick-witted remarks and banter, not unfamiliar, then sealed by a small smile, not unfriendly. On those intellectual exchanges of repudiation, Elphaba found Galinda most akin.
Of course, there was the crowd management too. Galinda was able to feed them carefully prepared sways, twirls, pouts, and giggles, formulate her sentences in such a way that appeared rehearsed, and would time after time earn her the most desirable outcome. Elphaba could see it all play out beautifully, even if, more often than not, said desirable outcome was for her to be scorned and passively tortured.
When she saw a window to her good side, she was quick to dive through. Unarmed, she believed Nessa, she returned the favor, she put on the hat.
When they laughed at her, it felt like the first time.
And so, when Galinda stepped forward, as her body prepared for impact and her careless facade threatened dangerously to fall, it was the first time someone held her, too.
Her sister would have never been good at it, holding, had she tried, and Elphaba wouldn't have let her, that was her task. Her mother she couldn't recall, and everyone knew her father's thoughts.
Galinda's embrace brought a warmth Elphaba wouldn't have thought to even seek out. The warmth of being a choice, not a misfortune, a burden, or a pity.
"Look at you, miss Elphaba." Galinda pressed herself against her gently, and smiled through the mirror. "You're beautiful."
She wanted to laugh and cry all the same. Galinda was proving to be quite disarming; her head spun a thousand times before she could jump out of the chair.
Was it too good to be true? Acceptance, understanding, friendship, everything Elphaba had long given up the fight for had fallen on her lap.
It took weeks of stone-headed effort for her to settle into the idea: shared breaks, split sweets, pink reminders of meetup times, hectic early mornings, quiet studious nights, comforting hand squeezes, and excited pecks on cheeks.
Galinda was nothing if not relentlessly loving.
Though at first she was met with trained grunts and wary glances, slowly, steadily, almost unnoticeably, Elphaba learned.
In spite of herself, she searched for pink in the dining hall, the patio, the classrooms, and found the seat next to Galinda's awaited. She forgot to mind her loudness as she got dressed in the morning, or her need to mumble what she read to understand it. She knew to hold her hand when she reached, and that calling her pretty things made her smile and kiss her, which she learned to take in because it seemed to make her feel loved as well.
Because, yes, for the first time, Elphaba learned what being loved was like, and it would have been unacceptably hypocritical to deprive Galinda of that feeling, even if she wouldn't be her first.
"Well, aren't you the darlingest thing in all of Oz?" she told her the morning on which she picked the poppies for Dr. Dillamond, after tucking one behind her ear and tapping her chin.
That morning, she didn't giggle and tap back, as she should, and Dr. Dillamond wasn't kind, as he was. The air was thick, and Elphaba couldn't place what had changed. Why Galinda had scurried into Fiyero's arm without a word, or why stepping felt like falling backward. That morning was undoubtedly cursed.
Fiyero's consciousness, not a quality but a fact, read as fate to Elphaba. Out of every boy in that polen-ridden room, he was the wide-eyed one, clutching the cub's skin and inviting kindness. She thought Galinda would be content in her slumber, safe from nonconformist strolls to give her headaches, as her grip on Elphaba's wrist fell limp.
However, later—
***
"Oh, Elphie!"
Galinda, knees tucked to her chest when Elphaba opened the door, jumped from the foreign bed and into her arms. She had thought her greyish sheets and dull covers would be of comfort, unwisely.
"Are you— I've been—" she cried, and sobbed, into her neck. "—all night!"
Her lips gathered into a shush, and her hands stroked her hair. Elphaba couldn't recall ever hearing Galinda cry, though, had she screamed or said nothing at all, only the image of her waiting in the dark was enough for the moment to be heartbreaking.
"Don't fret, my sweet." She waited for trembling to become sniffling, and held her head up between her hands. "I'm perfectly fine. And you're beautifully mad."
Galinda laughed through a sore throat. It was a sight to be missed, her bloodshot eyes and glistening cheeks, one that Elphaba enjoyed before it stiffened.
"How embarrassing," she said, quietly, as she gathered herself, dabbing at her wet skin graciously. "Perhaps you're right, I have gone mad."
"You always were." Elphaba, as fluently calm and collected as she had taught herself to be, interrupted her every dab with a finger. "That isn't news."
The night blew leaves through the window Galinda insisted be open at all times, serving her as an excuse to look away.
Elphaba hummed in thought, or the thought of thought, too concerned with the lock she curled around her finger to produce anything of value. Galinda's hair was soft, always, just like her skin, smile, and demeanor; she knew because she watched her make those happen each morning.
"Do you honestly think me ridiculous?" Galinda asked, her voice small with the crisp of accusation.
"Never," Elphaba answered too quickly, too easily. "Not unless you intend it."
It wasn't untruthful; Galinda could be ditzy and bubbly, often funny, but Elphaba appreciated what lay beneath her surface. Whenever she looked at her, it was all there, what little she chose to share and what she wouldn't.
"Honestly?" Galinda sighed from the bottom of her chest.
"Honestly."
Invigorated again, she took a hasty step forward. "Then," she blurted, "would you mind if I..."
Unashamed, Galinda considered the unexpected scheme of meeting her in the middle. Her eyes dropped and her head tilted side to side, again and again, in thought. Elphaba was perfectly still, she would've had to cut through the air that separated them all by herself. Would her lips part in the slightest? Her hands, would they hold her just below the waist, in a manly manner, as she usually did?
Her body, unprepared for the imagery, boiled from her ankles to the tip of her nose.
"Oh, nevermind," she breathed, holding her stomach and turning quick enough for her redness to go unnoticed.
Elphaba hummed one last time, curious yet unwilling to push. She stepped past pink ruffles and began to remove the black lace that wrapped her waist.
"Would you like to sleep in my bed tonight?" she dared, casually. Elphaba, unlike her roommate, saw no obvious consequences to her sweet proposition.
Galinda, understandably, felt the sweat stick to the mesh roses that lined her arms, and removed her airy cloak.
"Today was quite troubling." She unburdened her shoulders of her heavy garments. "I'll be thoroughly ill at ease by myself."
Long fingernails undid the knot that held her hair over her shoulder. Galinda let her sentences lead the way, feeling in a ride of sorts.
"I imagine you will too."
"Yes," she replied shortly, "I imagine." Her throat refused to expand further.
They settled on it then.
It took a wave and beckon for Galinda to walk those five steps and slip under the covers. She did so warily, awaiting Elphaba snap back into her senses, or somewhere darker than those, snarl, growl, and kick her off.
No such behavior transpired. Instead, she curled an arm around her shoulders, fitting both their bodies neatly, and stroked the side of her face with her other palm.
Galinda thought it all too unfair, too uncanny. She kept her arms to her chest, hoping to shield her speedy heartbeat from Elphaba's own, as long nails traced her features and deep breaths skimmed her ear.
With the twitch of a finger, her hands hurried to clutch Elphaba's gown right above her heart, unsoundly, but Elphaba didn't seem to mind. She moved to brush Galinda's hair, pulling her close enough that her every sense was treacherously engulfed by her.
"Careful. You'll spoil me," she joked, or maybe sighed, against Elphaba's neck.
Her laugh vibrated across her chest. "Then I will."
***
It was naive of Galinda, perhaps, to have expected the rare occurrence to repeat itself, unprompted. She stole glance after glance every night, hoping her spiritual insistence would elicit the question from Elphaba's mouth.
Galinda didn't want her roommate to be troubled, of course, but when starlight fell peculiarly dim, she couldn't fathom history books to be better company under Elphaba's covers than she would've been.
Had she been unpleasant the first time? Elphie had appeared happy enough.
As the weeks dared pass, the incident in Dr. Dillamond's class forgotten by most, it was the three of them that involuntarily insisted upon it. Galinda, Elphaba, and Fiyero, unexpectedly.
He was quiet, sulking, pressing his lips together in thought as Elphaba accustomed. Galinda wondered if they realized how alike they had grown.
Though, perhaps unwarranted, she wondered many things about him.
"You could've picked me," she told Elphaba one afternoon, after the grim presence and aloof corrections Madame Morrible provided her had worn her past pertinence. "I would've helped you."
She wasn't untruthful, and she didn't regret saying it, but the pleading form her words had taken bothered her.
"It was a mistake. I won't leave you behind again."
Elphaba held her hands as if they were her beating heart, and Galinda suspected it might've been.
***
Galinda hadn't been sleeping well, Elphaba gathered by the unrelenting tossing and turning each night. Neither of them had.
Whatever the case was, she didn't seem interested in speaking on it. Galinda rarely displayed interest in engaging in discussions about anything higher than trivial, not because she wasn't capable, Elphaba realized, but because, to her, spoken words made those issues palpable and catastrophic.
For Elphaba, the heavy and ugly was familiar. She dug and poked at imminent doom through pages and pages of repeated history, yet found space to hope for, or think of, a solution.
A cascade of golden curls gushed through an open sorcery book, springing into a gentle fountain as the doorknob clicked. Galinda's face glimmered against the last rays of sunlight, red and swollen. Her chin carved her chest for the blonde to hide her.
Elphaba clung to her own book, the same one, and kept her voice even. "Would you like my help?"
"I wouldn't," she said immediately, her pink fluffy pen jotting down a short sentence.
Galinda and her pride could've sat there that whole evening for all she should've cared, but Elphaba knew her kind of pride, one that made gums itch and fingers tremble.
"That's fine." She held her shoulders from behind and smiled at her through the mirror, as her friend once had.
"I'm—"
"Galinda," she began before she could complain. "You're brilliant. You'll be as powerful as the Wizard someday. I believe that, truly."
Her eyes softened at that. "Honestly?"
"Oh, undoubtedly." They laughed. "We'll do it together."
Such a beautifully painted soon-to-be didn't warrant many chuckles more.
Galinda shed a few tears, palms over the back of Elphaba's hands. "Well, then, more sensibly, I must wish I become as powerful as you."
Both their hearts fuller, Elphaba pressed a kiss to her temple and let her study.
***
Elphaba had proven herself considerately agreeable in the weeks leading up to the invitation's arrival, Shiz agreed.
She was polite, and politely levelheaded when facing disrespect, though the opportunity became rare. Her clothes no longer dragged, neither did her demeanor. It was a sudden yet welcome switch.
The green girl walked the halls hand in hand with beloved Galinda, and no one spared a second look.
***
Elphaba had proven herself unreserved in the weeks leading up to the invitation's arrival. She tired Galinda's ears of proud and pretty words like she hadn't before.
Fiyero's distance growing by the day, the change had come at a puzzling time, and its reason, she remained unaware of.
It was most difficult in the early mornings, when she'd return from her strolls to Oz Knew Where with a handful of undeniable pink poppies she would leave on Galinda's desk.
Well, actually, in truth, it was most difficult in the late nights, when, in exchanging dutiful essay writing for pleasure reading, she would come to squeeze her shoulders, elbow-deep in sorcery workbooks, and kiss the top of her head, and Galinda would have to pretend she hadn't lost her focus entirely.
Her boyfriend of sorts, given he seemed unaffected by the implications of the word, rarely cared to show his face and strike up a conversation with her. Elphaba was charming, and physical, and perfect, and the reckless boy Galinda had chosen was completely unaware of it.
They walked the halls hand in hand, and Galinda tried not to think about how unnervingly observed she felt.
***
Elphaba had proven herself a good friend in the weeks leading up to the invitation's arrival, she gathered.
Her hands had never before been so busy, her eyes tame, or her words soothing, and Fiyero had left her mind —almost— entirely.
Galinda smiled at the mere sight of her, and Elphaba held her made-up trophy nearly as tight as she held Galinda herself. She had earned her forgiveness, not that her friend had asked for that, which, somehow, only made her guilt cut deeper. Galinda didn't suspect a thing, because she wouldn't, and she never asked about her time spent with Fiyero in the woods because all she wanted was to be taken into consideration. No, the absolution didn't come from her, but from Elphaba's self-loathing mind.
The thing was, then, when all was vindicated, Elphaba noticed she hadn't half-minded her new behavioral attire. She enjoyed picking every pink poppy that caught her eye on her quiet walks and leaving them neatly for Galinda to find before her morning stretching routine. Her arms didn't hurt from lifting her into excited hugs, or to reach for high shelving, or just because it made her giggle and squirm in such an absurd yet entertaining manner. It wasn't difficult to mouth pretty words at someone she thought such pretty thoughts about.
They walked the halls hand in hand, and Elphaba couldn't recall when she had become the one to reach for her.
***
Nights at Shiz hadn't seemed so bright and cheerful for some time to Galinda, but maybe it was only an unrequited one. She held onto the balcony's railing and watched whatever her neighbor's windows showed her with a heavy heart. Some girls danced, drank tea and milk, studied, and chatted. In every tall square, she pictured pink and green, over and over, until her eyes were wet.
It was unmanageable, all the love she had for her weaved into her looming departure, her senseless ego no more than an endless string that became overpowering pride for her and what she would become.
Elphaba moved with hefty steps to warn her presence before wrapping Galinda's waist.
She hummed at the touch, pressing their temples together. "How will we manage without you?" she sighed.
"Just fine."
A kiss warmed her where their heads had touched, and another where her jaw met her neck. "You believe so?"
"I know so." She smiled at the silly implication that Shiz would ever think her departure a loss, and kissed her again.
Galinda's voice was nearing a crack. "Then how will I?"
The unyielding arms around her tugged for a turn inside them, so Galinda faced Elphaba with tears streaming down her face. Crying was becoming an unflattering habit of hers, she thought.
"Sweetness," Elphaba breathed, lost inside vocabulary at the sight of red eyes. "What bothers you?"
"Elphie, what if he keeps you?" Galinda broke into unbarred sobs and sniffs.
"Keeps me?" Elphaba wanted to laugh.
"Yes!" She threw her arms around her neck, hanging from her shoulders and melting into a pool of desperate tears. "What if he sees you, really, for your heart, and your mind, and everything you'll do, and he wants you to stay? The man loves green, after all! What if you never come back to me?"
Elphaba received the wailing with pressed lips and brushed her hair gently. Such a hilariously dramatic girl she had found for herself, yet, after some cherry-picking, she was a logical one.
"That won't happen—"
"It might!"
"I'm speaking now," she demanded, and waited for a sniff to continue. "It won't happen, because even if he turned out to be a rash man with no care for a proper magical education, I couldn't leave you behind, could I? A promise is a promise."
After a beat of silence, Galinda's body shook with a second round of sobs, and Elphaba couldn't do anything more than hold her a little longer.
At dawn, Galinda woke in Elphaba's bed, the long sleeping hours having livened her bones up like never before, and the arm around her waist making her wish they hadn't.
She requested a breakfast tray be brought to their room, which wasn't strictly allowed, but Galinda made way for it with unearned confidence and white lies. Then, she lay back down by her side, not before dabbing blush on, so she could face her shamelessly.
The ruckus beyond the door had been enough to bother Elphaba into half a mind. Having barely left the funny dream she was having, she pulled at the warmth in front of her, bringing it against her stomach.
They had been walking the poppy fields near Munchkintown for hours, seemingly indefatigable, arm in arm, hand in hand, under a gentle sun. Elphaba had crossed those paths plenty as a child; she led her to the far patch of pinks, and they lay there to rest, at last. The sun set, and Galinda called her name, and she easily did the unthinkable: they turned toward one another, she grabbed her by her lower back, and brought her in for a kiss.
Now, now, kissing wasn't an exploit Elphaba was familiar with, especially around the lip area, so, understandably, doing so with such ease, like she would crack her fingers or scrunch her nose, was a feat. The homely buzz she felt told her it hadn't been the first time, and inside that tiny, colorful land she had stumbled upon, it wouldn't be the last. Still, the dream scattered, the warmth dwindled, and the dark returned for a while.
For Galinda, however, the very real kiss they had shared was a little more than troubling. She knew Elphaba hadn't meant it, of course, though she wished she was naive enough to believe her fully awake, she wasn't. Yet her heart still beat so fast it resembled buzzing, her knees still had been left useless, and her lips had tasted hers regardless.
When she did wake, she wasn't sure she had left her head entirely. Galinda stared back, wide-eyed and stiff, unlike the girl in the poppy field.
It wasn't long before both sprung onto their feet, and the room became a hubbub of unrested understanding.
"Elphie—"
"Did I—"
"You did, but—"
"Oh...my—"
"No, really, it's—!"
"...Oz, I couldn't begin to express how sorry and..."
"...fine, honestly, you don't have to apologize, you didn't even..."
"...ashamed I am, I could explain to Fiyero if you wish, if it..."
"...know, and I don't mind at all, I imagine you..."
"...burdens you, him not knowing, I will, I will tell him I was..."
"...were dreaming of a boy you like—"
"...dreaming of you, how bizarre, and you called, and I truly didn't mean to—" Elphaba cut herself off, noticing it was only her voice echoing inside their room.
They had fallen back to far, opposite corners; still, Elphaba could see Galinda's head tilt slightly, curiously. "Of me?"
Feeling particularly green, and strange, and big, humongous enough to suck the air out of that room, Elphaba's fingers bounced on her thigh. "You...were there, yes."
"So I was." With her heart's ongoing buzzing, Galinda stepped forward, unblushing for once. "Where, exactly?"
"Poppy field." Her powers, inactive when she most needed them, weren't pushing her through the wall behind her back like she asked them to.
"And I called you." Unimpeachable, Galinda raised her eyebrows and clasped her hands behind her back, step, step, stepping. She wondered if green skin could turn red, like hers did, or if she'd have to settle for Elphaba's quivering voice, which she found most delightful. "Right?"
Elphaba nodded, her second daring feat of the morning, given her body was squished against the four walls like an inappropriately sized balloon.
"So you...kissed me?"
She would've popped right on the spot, leaving the answer of whether or not her insides could be green on display for all of Shiz to see, had a knock not interrupted them.
Galinda twirled and skipped to the door; a quick greeting and thanks later, she held a silver breakfast tray and a big, proud grin. "Here. Eat up now." She left it on Elphaba's bed and tapped the tip of her nose. "Big day ahead."
Her golden curls bounced as quickly as Galinda appeared to have bounced back. "I'll come see you off, promise," she told her, disappearing behind the door with her hair tossed and her dress from the night before.
***
The train gritted her teeth upon arrival, fuming and raging emerald as anything could be. Elphaba would have paid closer attention to it, or the small crowd it gathered to her far side, had Galinda's absence not made itself so evident.
She was beginning to worry her graceful exit had been no more than a diversion from her utter upset and disgust at Elphaba's unconscious display.
Her father had come to see her off, supposedly, though stayed by Nessa's side for the better part of the morning.
"Let's hope she makes a good impression," he told Madame Morrible, shrinking Elphaba to the size of his shoes. Around him, she was no more than a cowardly child, Wizard's invite or not.
An arm wrapped hers, picking her back up to her full height. "I'm sure she will," Galinda smiled tightly, unusually.
Elphaba dismissed further discussion and let herself be dragged away.
"Come on, you'll be late!" Galinda was excited, perhaps even more so than the traveler herself.
Her arms insisted they wait a minute longer, after all, the train wouldn't leave without her, and Elphaba's stomach had been churning anxieties for hours. "Are you not...angry at me, Galinda?"
"Oh, my, how inconsiderate of me." She halted her peppy trot and minded herself. "I've forgotten to tell you, that is no longer my name. I'm afraid I announced this morning that, in honor of Dr. Dillamond and all endangered Animals, I shall be known simply as Glinda from now on. I do hope you won't mind the belated news."
"I do not mind." Elphaba both frowned and smiled at her. "Would you mind if I question your reasoning?"
"Do you not think it wise?" Glinda put a hand against her chest. "Well, I won't change it back, if that is what you advice."
"Oh, not at all. I find it kind of you." At least she thought that was the intention behind it, and that was charming enough. Not that there were many animals amongst Shiz's walls to appreciate it. "But what compelled you to take a stance at all?"
Glinda posed much more sheepishly then, her eyes having trouble finding Elphaba's. "Well...I might've...started an argument with someone who thought me...unworthy of someone else's time...given my inactivity in such matters."
The accusation wasn't completely false; it was, however, daring. "Mighty comment, that is. No student here has been exactly rioting. Who said it?"
Like clockwork, Fiyero came dashing through the platform, a red poppy in hand. The train's chiming was becoming incessant. Glinda didn't protest as he stood between them and wished her luck with his offering. Watching the couple's pointed dismissal of one another, Elphaba pieced it together.
"Bold," she told him and his cocky smile, and glanced at Glinda again.
As much as the scene of the handsome prince running to bid her farewell should've had her weak in the knees, all she could find him was inconsiderate. The pink girl he had shoved his body in front of had been good to him for a time, and said time hadn't been cut short very long ago.
She excused herself past him, reaching for the hands Glinda used as emotional armor against her stomach. "If you might consider my input on this matter, and I think you would, given my inherent participation in the discussion, I believe you most worthy of my time."
Glinda shrugged in excitement, squeezing her hands tightly. "I am glad to hear that." The loudest chime yet made their faces twist. "However, I could do fine without hearing that. Hurry!"
Their hands stretched until they had no choice but to separate. Elphaba's boots on unsteady terrain, she turned to wave at the known faces, clapping and cheering just as they once slammed and scorned.
It occurred to her that, however happy she was to leave that piece of her life behind, however briefly, it was overwhelmingly dreadful to do so without anyone by her side. As much as she prided herself in her self-reliance, the past year had been made enjoyable by Glinda, for the most part. How was she meant to walk face-first into her future without her?
***
"Come with me!" Elphaba shouted from the train, nearly hanging off it with an outstretched hand.
Glinda's mind raced faster than her legs were capable of switching. Upon Elphaba's promise, she had considered it selfish to share her worries, and, despite intending to tell her as much, found herself out of time. So, as Elphaba asked her to join, she had to spare a moment to allow insistence and pretend her heart was undecided.
"I couldn't possibly— I'm coming!" she caved, and Elphaba pulled her onto their ride with the force of a man twice her size.
They spilled against the green floor with grunts and groans, a crinkle pinching Glinda's torso. She dusted off and plucked her puffed sleeves into shape. Unavoidably, the pamphlet had become wrinkled, but Glinda supposed it served its purpose regardless.
"Here, I forgot to give it to you." She handed it over and put her palms together to avoid wringing them nervously. "I've been forgetful as of late— well, as of today, haven't I?"
Unreadable, Elphaba read the annotation Glinda had left for her.
I hope you get what your heart desires.
"Thank you," Elphaba said, looking up from the paper, "but I'm afraid the Wizard won't be able to grant it."
Her hands rested on Elphaba's arms, instinctively, to offer comfort. "Why not?"
"I was hoping asking you would suffice."
She quickly overtook Glinda's touch, caressing the back of her hands with her thumbs.
Glinda sensed the height and dawn of their Later approaching, stomach fluttering and fingers trembling, and thought the linear passage of time extremely unkind, especially as Elphaba babbled, determined to delay it.
"That is, if my presumption of your relationship's finalization is accurate, and that hasn't left you heartbroken, which you don't seem outwardly, but I could be amiss, and of course, if you desire it..."
Her unseemly fear of unrequitedness only made Glinda's unladylike desperation into boldness. She bit her lower lip, helplessly stretched into a grin, and tugged at Elphaba until her hands rested on her sides.
"...entirely, not uncertainly, though, I suppose, doubts are permitted, so not completely entirely, but as similar as can be." The slim fingers stroking her jaw were a disservice to her relenting eloquence. "And, of course, without consequent demand, as it would be up to your judgment its halt or continuation—"
"Elphie...I mean no disrespect, but I beg of you, be quiet so I can kiss you."
Elphaba stilled at that, tightening her grip on Glinda's hips. She'd hardly discerned how prepared her body had been for amiable rejection until Glinda tore straight through her, and it was as if she had no bones at all. "Yes. Of course."
She giggled, wrapping her neck and pulling her in. Their noses brushed, their chests pressed, and she decided there was nothing left unsaid.
Glinda should've thought it uncanny how, unafraid, she kissed Elphaba on that train. But then, and there, in the wake of their Later, she wouldn't have minded it becoming their Forever.