Emerald Fog

Elphaba had spent most of the afternoon in the library, losing herself in pages filled with music theory, compositions, and the complexities of sound. The familiar hum of a piano piece from across the room had kept her company.

As she stepped outside, adjusting the strap of her satchel, she nearly collided with a familiar figure. A tall, confident woman with a sharp gaze and a tangle of auburn curls, who gave her a knowing smile.

“Elphaba,” the woman said. “You seem to be carrying more than just books these days.”

Elphaba looked up and raised an eyebrow, recognizing her immediately. “Morgra. Always here when I’m not expecting you.”

Morgra laughed, brushing a stray curl from her face. “What can I say? I have an uncanny knack for showing up just when you’ve buried yourself in the world of sound and silence.” She nodded toward the book Elphaba held. “So, is it new compositions you’re working on?”

Elphaba nodded, glancing at the pages filled with written notes. “Music theory. It’s all I’ve been focused on lately.”

Morgra’s eyes lit up with interest. “I thought you might be. Well, you should come by the bar for the open mic this week. It’s been a while since you performed, and everyone’s been asking about you. You’ve got something they want to hear. You know that.”

The open mic had been something she had done for herself—something that helped her learn to love performing.

“I’ll think about it,” Elphaba said, finally. “Maybe.”

Morgra grinned. “That’s all I ask. Just don’t leave us hanging.” With a wink, she turned and disappeared into the crowd.

Elphaba continued on her way home. The bakery below was still open, the quiet hum of conversation drifting up through the floorboards. Normally, she liked the muffled sounds of life happening beneath her feet, a reminder that she wasn’t entirely alone.

The baker’s assistant, Thom, stuck his head out of the kitchen just as she reached the landing. “Oh! Miss Elphaba,” he said, dusting his hands on his apron. “There’s someone waiting for you upstairs.”

Elphaba frowned. “Someone?”

“Blonde. Real fancy-looking, but real sad-looking, too,” he said. “Didn’t say much, just sat down by your door and waited.”

Elphaba’s pulse quickened. She didn’t need to ask who it was, but why did she look sad?

Without another word, she hurried up the stairs, her boots echoing against the wood.

And then she saw her.

Galinda was curled up outside her door, her travel bags scattered around her, her head resting against her arms. Her usually pristine curls were slightly mussed, her skirts wrinkled from hours of sitting on the cold floor. She looked exhausted, utterly wrung out.

For a moment, Elphaba just stared.

She had imagined Galinda visiting a hundred times, but she had never imagined this.

Elphaba swallowed and crouched down. Gently, she touched her shoulder. “Galinda.”

Galinda stirred, blinking blearily. Her eyes took a moment to focus, but when they did—when she saw Elphaba—something inside her cracked.

“Elphie,” she whispered, her voice shaking.

Elphaba’s stomach twisted. “You’re here.”

Galinda let out a breathless, tired laugh, but it was hollow, fragile. “I didn’t know where else to go.”

Elphaba stood, unlocking the door. “Come inside.”

Galinda rose unsteadily to her feet, gathering her skirt as she stepped over her bags. Inside, Galinda sat on the bed without waiting to be invited, rubbing her arms as if trying to warm herself.

Elphaba shut the door behind them and turned, but before she could say anything, Galinda suddenly choked on a sob.

She covered her mouth as if she could stop it, as if holding it in would keep everything from spilling out, but it was too late. The sound broke through the silence, raw and helpless, and her entire body shook with the force of it.

Elphaba was at her side in an instant. She hesitated only a moment before reaching out, pulling Galinda into her arms.

Galinda didn’t resist. She collapsed against her, gripping the front of Elphaba’s dress like it was the only thing keeping her from shattering completely. Her sobs wracked her small frame, muffled against Elphaba’s shoulder, as weeks of fear, heartbreak, and exhaustion finally spilled free. 

Elphaba pulled Galinda down to lay in her arms, holding her tightly. She ran a hand through her curls, whispering soothing words she wasn’t even sure made sense. She didn’t tell her to stop crying. She didn’t tell her it would be alright. She just held her, letting her fall apart.

Eventually, the sobs softened, her grip loosening as exhaustion weighed heavy on her limbs. Her breaths came slower, uneven but steady, and before long, she had fallen asleep against Elphaba’s chest.

Elphaba exhaled, resting her cheek against Galinda’s hair. She stayed like that, unmoving, feeling the warmth of her, the quiet rise and fall of her breathing, and knowing there would be time to talk when she woke.

But for now, she just held her.

And she didn’t let go.

Galinda woke with a start, and for a brief disorienting moment, she didn’t know where she was.

Then she felt it.

A gentle weight at her back, an arm wrapped securely around her waist, and the slow, steady rise and fall of someone breathing beside her.

Elphaba.

The memories hit her all at once, crashing over her like a wave. The fight with her parents. The awful, suffocating dinner. Her father’s voice, so calm, so final.

“You need to leave in the morning.”

“You are not my daughter.”

Her chest tightened, but then—Elphaba’s arm around her. The warmth of her body pressed close. A grounding presence in the middle of the storm.

Galinda turned over slowly, blinking up at her. Elphaba was awake, watching her, concern written all over her face.

“You’re safe,” Elphaba murmured, brushing a strand of hair from Galinda’s cheek. “I promise. You’re safe.”

That was all it took.

A broken sob tore from Galinda’s throat as she buried her face in Elphaba’s shoulder. Elphaba held her tighter, rubbing soothing circles into her back, murmuring soft reassurances against her temple.

“I…” Galinda choked out. “I told them. I told them everything.”

Elphaba’s grip tightened. “Everything?”

Galinda nodded against her shoulder, her fingers twisting into Elphaba’s shirt as if letting go might make her disappear. “My mo…mother, she found a letter I wrote for you.” She felt a thud in her chest as she stopped herself from saying “Momsie”.

Elphaba stiffened, pulling back slightly. “A letter?”

Galinda gave a shaky breath, eyes shining. “I never meant for them to see it. I was going to send it, but she…she went into my room, and she read it. She read everything, Elphie. And she showed my father, and then…” Her voice cracked. “They know.”

Elphaba’s expression darkened. “Galinda…”

Galinda squeezed her eyes shut, shaking her head as if she could block out the memory. “They were already pushing me to find a husband, but… she said if I didn’t choose someone, they had ‘options.’” Her voice trembled. “She was going to marry me off, Elphie.”

Elphaba inhaled sharply. “They—what?”

“She wasn’t going to give me a choice,” Galinda whispered. “She was going to pick someone for me, like I was just…just some transaction.”

Elphaba cupped Galinda’s face between her hands, her thumbs brushing away the stray tears that spilled down her cheeks. “You’re not,” she said firmly. “You are not something to be given away. You belong to yourself.”

Galinda let out a shuddering breath. “I told them it wasn’t a phase, or something I’d grow out of. I told them I chose you.” Her fingers curled into Elphaba’s shirt. “I told them I don’t want boys. That I never have.”

Elphaba’s expression softened, something unreadable flickering in her eyes.

Galinda let out a breathy, bitter laugh. “I think I’ve always known,” she admitted. “I just…I ignored it. Pretended it didn’t matter. Because if it was real, then…then this was always going to happen, wasn’t it?” Her voice cracked. “They were always going to hate me for it.”

Elphaba shook her head fiercely. “No. No. This isn’t your fault, Galinda. You didn’t deserve this.”

Galinda let out a broken sound, barely more than a whimper, and Elphaba pulled her in again, wrapping her arms around her tightly, protectively.

Galinda pressed her face into Elphaba’s neck, drinking in the warmth of her, the steady beat of her heart against her own.

For a long time, they just held each other.

Then, with a shaky sigh, Galinda pulled back slightly, her fingers twisting in her lap.

“I always knew,” she said quietly, “that my parents expected me to marry. To have children. It was never a question, just… something that was.” She swallowed hard. “But I thought…I thought that meant with someone I loved. Was I delusional for thinking that?”

Elphaba frowned, reaching for her hand. “No. You weren’t delusional, Galinda.” Her grip tightened. “You were just hopeful. And there’s nothing wrong with that.”

Galinda’s laugh was hollow. “Hopeful,” she echoed. “Hopeful that my parents cared about me enough not to sell me off like livestock.”

Elphaba’s jaw clenched. “They had no right—”

“They would have expected me to still have children, too,” Galinda cut in, her voice turning sharp with disgust. “And I never would have…not willingly, with someone I didn’t like. But that wouldn’t have mattered to them, would it?” Her throat tightened. “They would have been perfectly happy knowing their daughter was being forced upon. They would have expected it.” She let out a shaky breath. “My own parents would have been fine with a stranger—” Her voice cracked, and she turned her face away. “They don’t care about me, Elphie. They don’t care what happens to me.”

Elphaba’s hands shook as she cupped Galinda’s face again, forcing her to look at her. “I care,” she whispered fiercely. “I care so much.”

Galinda’s lower lip trembled, and she closed her eyes, leaning into Elphaba’s touch. “I know.”

Elphaba hesitated before speaking again, her voice low and uncertain. “If staying with me makes this harder for you, I…” She swallowed. “I won’t hold you back, Galinda. If walking away from me makes things easier, I—”

“Don’t.” Galinda’s eyes snapped open, her hands gripping Elphaba’s wrists. “Don’t you dare say that.”

Elphaba blinked.

“You are the only thing that makes sense in my life.” Galinda’s voice wavered, but her grip was strong. “You are the only thing that has ever made sense. Don’t ask me to walk away from that.”

Elphaba’s breath hitched, and then she was kissing her desperately, achingly, like she was afraid she’d disappear if she didn’t hold on tight enough.

When they finally pulled apart, foreheads pressed together, Elphaba murmured, “Do you wonder why I stayed?”

Galinda’s breath hitched. “What?”

“All those days you weren’t talking to me,” Elphaba said, voice careful. “Did you ever wonder why I didn’t just…walk away?”

Galinda swallowed, nodding slowly.

Elphaba exhaled. “It’s because I don’t want a life without you. Now that I’ve had you in it…I can’t go back.” Her fingers brushed against Galinda’s, hesitant but certain. “I won’t.”

Galinda felt tears sting at her eyes again, but they weren’t from sadness this time. She took Elphaba’s hands, gripping them tight.

“Good,” she whispered.

For a long time, they just held each other.

Then, with a shaky sigh, Galinda pulled back slightly and reached into the pocket of her dress. Her fingers closed around the crumpled letter, and a fresh wave of hurt surged through her. She pulled it out and threw it onto the floor between them.

“All of this,” she said, her voice raw, “because of this stupid thing.”

Elphaba frowned, glancing down. Then, carefully, she reached for the letter. She smoothed it out with gentle fingers, her eyes scanning over the words.

Galinda swallowed, watching her. “I…I wrote it before I even knew how bad things would get,” she admitted. “I just…I wanted to tell you I missed you.” Her voice dropped to a whisper. “And that I love you.”

Elphaba’s fingers stilled over the page.

When she looked up, her eyes were impossibly soft. “You’ve never said that before,” she murmured.

Galinda’s breath hitched.

“I meant it,” she whispered.

Elphaba stared at her for a long moment, then slowly set the letter aside. Without a word, she reached for Galinda’s hands, threading their fingers together.

“I love you too,” she said softly.

Galinda’s heart clenched. She let out a shaky breath, squeezing Elphaba’s like they were the only thing tethering her to the ground.

Elphaba tugged her forward then, pressing a lingering kiss to her forehead, then another to her cheek, then finally-finally, to her lips. It was slow and aching, filled with all the words they didn’t know how to say yet.

When they pulled apart, Galinda exhaled shakily.

Elphaba brushed her curls back gently, her voice hesitant. “I know this place isn’t much,” she admitted. “It’s small, and kind of a mess, and it’s not…it’s not what you’re used to.”

Galinda shook her head, wrapping her arms tightly around Elphaba’s waist. “I don’t care,” she murmured. “You’re here and that’s all I care about.”

Elphaba let out a soft, breathless laugh, pressing a kiss to the top of Galinda’s head. “You really mean that?”

Galinda buried her face against her shoulder. “I’ve never meant anything more.”

Elphaba kissed her again, slow and deep.

Galinda stirred slightly, shifting against Elphaba’s chest as she let out a small sigh. They had been curled up like this for what felt like hours, just holding each other, but now the room was growing dark, the glow from the single lamp casting long shadows against the walls.

She let out a quiet hum, her voice still hoarse from crying. “Elphie?”

Elphaba tilted her head slightly, her fingers still running absently through Galinda’s curls. “Yeah?”

“Could I…um.” Galinda hesitated, then let out a soft, embarrassed laugh. “Could I have some water?”

Elphaba stiffened. “Oh.” She pulled back just enough to look at her. “Oh, Galinda—I didn’t even think—I should have offered—

Galinda giggled softly, resting a hand on Elphaba’s chest. “It’s okay. I just—I only just realized how dry my throat is.”

Elphaba was already sitting up, shifting her weight so she could stand. “I’ll get you some. Do you want food too? I don’t have much, but—”

Galinda shook her head quickly, reaching out to grab Elphaba’s wrist before she could get too far. “No. I’m not hungry.” Her fingers curled slightly, holding onto Elphaba’s sleeve. “I just…want to stay here. With you.”

Elphaba hesitated, her brow furrowing. She didn’t like the thought of Galinda not eating, especially after everything she had just been through. But the pleading look in her eyes, the way she was holding onto her like she was afraid to let go—Elphaba couldn’t bring herself to argue.

“…Okay,” she murmured finally. She pressed a kiss to Galinda’s forehead before standing and heading toward the small kitchen nook to grab a glass of water. When she returned, Galinda sat up slowly, taking it with both hands. She sipped it carefully, sighing as she did.

Elphaba watched her closely. “Better?”

Galinda nodded, setting the empty glass aside before scooting closer again, tucking herself against Elphaba’s side. “Mhm. But I still just want to stay here.”

Elphaba smiled, wrapping her arms around her again. “I’m not going anywhere.”

They sat in silence for a moment before Elphaba glanced toward the window, noticing how dark it had gotten outside. “You probably don’t want to sleep, do you?” she asked softly. “Since you just woke up?”

Galinda shook her head against Elphaba’s shoulder. “Not yet.” Her voice was quiet, but there was something distant in it—something tired in a way that had nothing to do with sleep.

Elphaba frowned, feeling the way Galinda’s fingers were absentmindedly twisting the fabric of her shirt. She wanted to do something—anything—to help, to make this weight in Galinda’s chest feel just a little lighter.

Then she glanced at the window again.

A thought struck her, and without a word, she reached over to the bed, grabbing two pillows and the spare blanket from the corner.

Galinda blinked, looking up at her with a puzzled expression. “What are you doing?”

Elphaba smiled slightly, reaching out to take Galinda’s hand. “Come with me.”

Galinda hesitated for only a second before nodding, letting Elphaba lead her to the window. Elphaba unlatched it, pushing it open with ease, and then carefully stepped out onto the flat rooftop just outside.

Galinda gasped softly. “Elphie—”

“It’s safe,” Elphaba assured her. “I come out here all the time.”

Galinda hesitated for a moment, glancing between Elphaba and the open window. Then, with a deep breath, she carefully followed.

The night air was crisp but not uncomfortably cold, and as soon as she was outside, Galinda’s eyes widened.

The stars stretched endlessly above them, scattered across the sky like spilled diamonds. It was breathtaking.

Elphaba set the pillows down and spread the blanket over the roof, then laid down, patting the space beside her. “Come here.”

Galinda sat beside her first, looking up at the sky. “Oh,” she whispered. “It’s beautiful.”

Elphaba watched her for a moment, then looked up as well. “I come up here when I’m having a hard time,” she admitted. “I write a lot of my songs out here.”

Galinda turned to look at her, eyes soft. “You do?”

Elphaba nodded. “It’s quiet. No one bothers me. Just me and the stars.” She let out a breath. “And sometimes, when things feel…too much, I like to remember how small we are in the grand scheme of things. It doesn’t fix everything, but it helps.”

Galinda was quiet for a long moment, then finally laid down beside her, resting her head on Elphaba’s shoulder. “I think I like it up here.”

Elphaba smiled, wrapping an arm around her. “Good.”

Galinda hummed contentedly, pressing closer. “I wish I could stay here forever,” she murmured.

Elphaba glanced down at her. “You can stay as long as you want.”

Galinda exhaled, closing her eyes. “Thank you,” she whispered.

Elphaba pressed a soft kiss to her hair. “Anytime.”

Galinda sighed softly, staring up at the stars, tracing invisible patterns between them with her eyes. “You were right,” she murmured. “This does help.”

Elphaba hummed in agreement, shifting slightly so their hands brushed against each other. “It’s a good reminder, isn’t it?” she said. “That the world is bigger than just us and all the awful things we get stuck in.”

Galinda nodded, but after a beat, she glanced sideways at her. “You know, you don’t talk about your family much,” she said carefully.

Elphaba stiffened slightly but forced herself to keep her gaze on the sky. “No,” she agreed.

Galinda hesitated, choosing her words. “Why is that?”

There was a long pause before Elphaba let out a slow breath. “Because I don’t speak to my father,” she admitted finally. “Haven’t in years.”

Galinda turned onto her side, propping herself up on her elbow. “Elphie…”

Elphaba glanced at her briefly before looking away. “It’s why I live here, you know,” she continued, her tone casual, as if she were talking about the weather. “I know what it’s like to have difficult parents.”

Galinda reached for her hand. “What happened?”

Elphaba shrugged, but it was stiff, uncomfortable. She pressed her lips together before speaking again, voice deliberately flat. “He didn’t love me,” she said simply. “Didn’t want me. Spent every single day making sure I knew that.”

Galinda’s heart clenched, her grip tightening around Elphaba’s fingers. “Elphaba…”

Elphaba let out a short, humorless laugh. “It’s not a big deal. It’s just how it was.”

Galinda shook her head. “But it is a big deal. That’s horrible.”

Elphaba exhaled slowly, still not looking at her. “It wasn’t exactly a surprise. I was never what he wanted. And when Nessa was born…” She trailed off, shrugging again. “Well. He had what he wanted then, didn’t he?”

Galinda swallowed, her chest aching. She had never thought about it before, but now it made so much sense—the way Elphaba never mentioned home, the way she always hesitated when Galinda spoke about her own family, as if the very concept of parents was something foreign to her.

She reached out hesitantly, brushing her fingers along Elphaba’s cheek, silently urging her to look at her. “I don’t know how anyone could not want you,” she whispered.

Elphaba’s breath hitched slightly, and when she finally met Galinda’s gaze, there was something raw in her expression, something almost too vulnerable.

For a long moment, neither of them spoke.

Then Galinda shifted closer, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to the corner of Elphaba’s mouth. “I want you,” she murmured. “I always have.”

Elphaba let out a shaky breath, her fingers curling into Galinda’s shirt, like she was anchoring herself—like she was afraid to let go. And Galinda could feel it, the hesitance, the deep ache beneath it all.

So she kissed her.

Not just a soft press of lips like before, not just comfort. This was different. This was everything.

Elphaba gasped softly against her mouth, her grip tightening as if the contact was something she needed, something she couldn’t bear to lose. Galinda moved closer, pressing against her, deepening the kiss, trying to pour all of her love into it, trying to tell Elphaba without words what she had been saying all along: I want you. I choose you.

Elphaba let out a quiet, shuddering breath before finally giving in, tilting her head and kissing her back with an intensity that made Galinda’s head spin. Their hands tangled in each other’s hair, fingers grasping, pulling, desperate. Elphaba’s lips moved against hers with a hunger that sent warmth spreading through Galinda’s entire body, and she responded in kind, sighing into her mouth, pressing closer still.

The world fell away. It was just them—their breaths mingling, their hands roaming, their bodies pressed together in the cool night air.

Elphaba’s hand cupped Galinda’s jaw, her thumb brushing along her cheek, a stark contrast to the deep, urgent way she was kissing her. It was like she wanted to be both soft and possessive at once, like she wanted to hold Galinda as gently as possible while also proving she was never letting go.

The intensity built, their kisses growing more desperate, more consuming, until finally, after what felt like forever, they pulled apart—both gasping, their foreheads pressed together as they tried to catch their breath.

Galinda let out a soft, breathless laugh, her heart pounding in her chest.

Slowly, they shifted, rolling onto their backs, side by side, hands still tangled between them as they stared up at the sky. Their fingers stayed intertwined, neither willing to let go.

For a while, there was only the sound of their breathing, the quiet of the night settling around them.

Then, after a long pause, Galinda whispered, “What’s your dream?”

Elphaba blinked up at the stars, considering the question. Finally, she exhaled. “I’ve always dreamed of moving to the Emerald City,” she admitted. “Making a living from music. Performing, writing—just being there.”

Galinda turned her head slightly to look at her, catching the faint hesitation in her voice. “But?”

Elphaba hesitated before slowly turning her head as well, meeting Galinda’s gaze. The vulnerability in her eyes was unmistakable.

“That’s still my dream…but…there’s more I want now,” she murmured.

Galinda swallowed, her fingers squeezing Elphaba’s instinctively. “What is it?” she whispered.

Elphaba inhaled, like she was gathering her courage. Then, softly, she said, “Making sure you feel loved.” Her thumb brushed against Galinda’s palm. “Making sure you’re happy.”

Galinda felt her breath catch in her throat.

She turned fully onto her side, bringing their joined hands to her chest, clutching them there. “You already do,” she whispered. “You make me feel loved every second I’m with you.”

Elphaba’s lips parted slightly, like she wasn’t sure how to respond.

So Galinda leaned in, pressing another soft, lingering kiss to her lips.

And this time, Elphaba didn’t hesitate.

Elphaba’s eyes searched Galinda’s face in the quiet that followed, the warmth of her fingers still lingering between them. Then, softly, she asked, “What about you?”

Galinda blinked, turning her head slightly. “What?”

Elphaba gave her hand a gentle squeeze. “Your dream. What is it?”

Galinda opened her mouth, then hesitated. She turned back toward the stars, her expression unreadable.

“I…” She exhaled slowly, brow furrowing. “I don’t know.”

Elphaba stayed quiet, letting her find the words.

Galinda bit her lip, her voice quieter when she spoke again. “I’ve never really allowed myself to dream before.” She let out a small, breathy laugh, but it was humorless. “I’ve always known exactly how my life was meant to go. There was never a question, never a choice. Just a path I was expected to follow.”

Elphaba’s grip on her hand tightened ever so slightly.

Galinda sighed, shaking her head. “I spent so long trying to be perfect. To be exactly what they wanted. I never thought about what I wanted.” She swallowed hard. “I think…I need to figure that out.”

Elphaba turned onto her side again, propping herself up on one elbow so she could look at her properly. “You will,” she said softly. “You don’t have to have all the answers right now.”

Galinda turned her head, her eyes meeting Elphaba’s. There was something steady, unwavering, in that green gaze—something that made her feel safe.

She let out a slow breath, then glanced up at the sky. “Oz, Elphie…” she murmured. “You’re the girl who gave me the stars.” She motioned upward, her voice filled with something almost like wonder. “Just because I was sad.”

Elphaba’s lips parted slightly, caught off guard by the sincerity in her words.

Galinda turned back to her, eyes soft but certain. “I may not know what my dream is yet,” she admitted. “But I know it includes you.”

Elphaba’s breath hitched. She lifted their joined hands and pressed a soft kiss to Galinda’s knuckles, lingering there for a moment before pulling back just enough to whisper, “Good.”

Galinda smiled, lacing their fingers tighter together.

Elphaba let their fingers linger together for a moment longer before she gave Galinda’s hand a small tug. “Come on,” she murmured. “It’s getting cold.”

Galinda hummed in agreement, though she didn’t particularly want to move from this moment. Still, as Elphaba sat up and gathered the blanket, she sighed and followed suit.

They climbed back through the window, the warmth of the room a sharp contrast to the cool night air. Elphaba set the pillows back on the bed and folded the blanket at the foot of it before turning to Galinda. “Do you want to change into something more comfortable?”

Galinda nodded, rubbing her arms. Elphaba dug through her small dresser, eventually pulling out a soft, oversized shirt and handing it to her.

“Here,” she said. “It’s not exactly fancy, but…”

Galinda smiled as she took it. “It’s perfect.”

Elphaba gave her a small nod before turning away to give her some privacy. She busied herself with getting ready for bed, pulling her own sleep shirt over her head before slipping beneath the blankets. When Galinda finally joined her, her hair now loose and tumbling over her shoulders, she hesitated only a moment before curling up against Elphaba’s side.

Elphaba instinctively wrapped an arm around her, pulling her close. Galinda let out a contented sigh, resting her head against Elphaba’s chest.

“Comfortable?” Elphaba murmured.

Galinda nodded against her. “Mhm.”

The steady rhythm of Elphaba’s breathing, the warmth of her body, and the way her fingers absently traced gentle circles against Galinda’s back—it was soothing in a way Galinda had never known. Slowly, Elphaba’s movements stilled, her breaths evening out as she drifted off to sleep.

But Galinda remained awake.

She lay there in the quiet, her mind spinning with everything that had happened. Everything she had lost. Everything she had gained.

Her parents had thrown her away, discarded her like she was nothing. But here, in Elphaba’s arms, she didn’t feel like nothing. She felt… safe. Wanted. Loved.

Her gaze lifted to Elphaba’s face, peaceful in sleep. Carefully, she reached out, her fingers ghosting over her cheek, tracing the sharp angle of her jaw, the slope of her nose. She memorized every detail, as if committing it to memory, as if grounding herself in the reality that this was real. That Elphaba was real.

She swallowed, her chest tightening. How had she gotten so lucky?

A small, quiet smile touched her lips as she brushed a stray strand of dark hair back from Elphaba’s face. She whispered, so softly it was barely even a sound, “I love you.”

Elphaba stirred slightly but didn’t wake.

Galinda let out a slow breath, letting her fingers fall away. She curled back into Elphaba’s warmth, finally allowing her eyes to drift shut.