Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Dearest darlingest momsie and momsicle,

Good news! I managed to convince Elphie to spend the summer with us!

“Oh my goodness, we’re finally here!” Galinda squealed, her legs swinging back and forth as she sat perched atop a precarious pile of stacked luggage. She had claimed the spot to secure a “better view,” though Elphaba couldn’t fathom what that meant, considering there was nothing but endless water in every direction.

She failed to account that Galinda herself was the better view. Or, at least, those were Galinda’s intentions.

But now Frottica came into view as they approached the harbor, and Elphaba was somewhat struck by how ordinary the city was. She’d been, honestly, expecting something pink.

The boat docked, and Galinda scrambled down, seizing Elphaba’s hand and dragging her to solid ground, still excitedly squealing under her breath. 

“Welcome to Frottica, Elphie! What do you make of it?”

Elphaba’s mouth twitched with a smile at the unbridled enthusiasm. “Nothing just yet.”

“Oh you will love it, I’ll make sure of it, and—”

“Galinda!”

Galinda whipped around in a flurry of long skirts and blonde hair. She always seemed to move with her entire body even in small motions, everything magnified as if to draw eyes. Or at least that was what Elphaba thought at first, now she understood Galinda was merely a highly excitable person, unrestrained by the concept of moderation.

A woman approached them briskly, her heels clicking like a metronome on the cobblestones of the dockyard—and belatedly Elphaba realized this was a private dockyard area. The woman’s dress was a confection of lavender and white layers adorned with fine embroidery, and her blonde hair was swept aside and pinned beneath a feathered little hat.

Galinda let go of Elphaba’s hand to rush over to her mother and hug her. 

“Oh, sweetling, welcome home,” the woman cooed. “We’ve missed you so much, our darling girl, our little treasure—”

She held onto Galinda so tightly, and her voice was so thick with affection, that Elphaba’s heart ached.

“Momsie, please.” Galinda pulled away from her, a little red about the face. “I know you missed me, but must you be so sentimental right now? You’re going to upset our guest!”

Elphaba cleared her throat, instinctively clasping her hands behind her back as though preparing to address an audience. She wasn’t nervous, per se, but she wanted to make a good impression—as good as one could, when one had green skin. She was to spend months in this place, the last thing she wanted was to start the summer on the wrong foot.

“Elphie,” Galinda began, one gloved hand on her mother’s arm. She looked radiantly happy and eager for something, her eyes shining. “This is my mother Kalena Upland, of the Upper Uplands. And this is Elphaba Thropp, my roomie, the Governor of Munchkinland’s daughter, and also the greatest sorceress of our age, and—”

“It’s a pleasure,” Elphaba cut in because she had gone through this already with Galinda, who had introduced Elphaba to the Upland boatmen in the same way. The litany of accolades made her face feel too warm.

As always, she braced herself for a quip or a stare—but neither ever came.

Kalena extended a perfectly manicured hand with a radiant smile. “Oh, it’s such a delight to meet you, dear! Galinda has told us so much about you. We simply cannot thank you enough for helping her get into sorcery class—so thoughtful of you! And spending the summer here—what a treat! We’re quite flattered! We’ve prepared a guest room just for you, the coziest we could make it. If it’s not to your liking, we’ll change anything you need—absolutely anything! We rarely host long-term guests, you see, but—”

The handshake turned into a whirlwind of air-kisses and shoulder pats as Kalena chattered on without pause. Elphaba, overwhelmed, managed a weak smile—a mistake, as it seemed to encourage Kalena further.

So one of Galinda’s mothers was exactly like Galinda herself. Good to know, good to know.

Was it bad that Elphaba hoped the other one, well, wasn’t?

“Anyhow we’re thrillified to have you here!” Kalena finished, not even having to take a breath. Impressive. Then her eyes fell on Elphaba’s lone valise, incongruous amidst Galinda’s mountainous belongings. “Is that all you brought?”

“Elphie is a light traveler,” Galinda said. 

“A quality I’m sure we can all strive for!” Kalena laughed, and squeezed Elphaba’s hand one last time before letting go. What a cyclone of a woman in a small, fabric-wrapped package. She was shorter than her daughter, even with heels. “Let’s head up, then, the chauffeur is waiting. Galinda, darling, we’re going to have to pick your mother along the way, I’m afraid she got caught up in the shop. Do forgive her. You just took so awfully long!”

“I’m sorry! The winds weren’t in our favor today,” Galinda said, pouting slightly as Kalena pinched her cheek with affection.

Elphaba turned to retrieve her valise, clearing her throat to try and get rid of this strange, newfound ache. Before she knew it, though, a gloved hand landed on her wrist.

“Leave it,” Galinda said. “They’ll take care of it.”

“I’m perfectly capable of carrying my own—”

“Well, they are too, since it’s only one and so lightweight anyhow.” Galinda’s hand slid down until she was holding Elphaba’s. “It’s alright, Elphie, you get to relax here.”

“Carrying my singular lightweight valise won’t really ruin my relaxation, you know.”

Galinda rolled her eyes. “Just come, you’ll be glad you’re not carrying it once you realize where we’re going to find my mother.”

“And where would that be?”

“Cheeky Miss Elphaba, you know I’m not going to tell you that.” She giggled, and squeezed Elphaba’s hand to pull her away. 

“Did you—” Elphaba lowered her voice. “Did you tell your mother what to expect when it came to me?”

“Why, yes,” Galinda said. “I told her I was bringing my beautiful roommate who—”

“That’s not what I meant.” Elphaba glanced down at herself, trying to emphasize her point.

“Oh. Well, no.”

“Really?”

“Didn’t see the point,” Galinda said. “It didn’t seem that important—and I don’t think she’s even noticed.”

“What? How could it not be the first thing anyone notices?”

“I think Momsie has bigger concerns.”

Elphaba frowned, but Galinda didn’t elaborate further as she kept tugging Elphaba away and out of the docks.

Out of the corner of her eye, Elphaba caught a glimpse of Kalena’s gaze tracking the way Galinda’s hand had not left hers.

‘The shop’ where Galinda’s mother had gotten caught up in was no ordinary establishment, Elphaba quickly came to learn. 

It was a tailor—sort of. Upper Uplands Couture was what the sign outside read, but inside it was a world of its own. Shelves lined one side of the shop, groaning under bolts of fabric in every texture and shade imaginable. The opposite side boasted racks of garments—gowns, suits, and cloaks that shimmered with embellishments.

Elphaba understood now why carrying her luggage would have been a nuisance. The place teemed with life: workers darting back and forth with cascades of cloth, aprons bristling with pins and needles; well-dressed patrons, sipping from flute glasses of bubbly drinks, happily browsing the selections.

And there was—something in the air. Something Elphaba couldn’t quite put her finger on, other than the glamor and excess. It made her skin prickle.

Galinda and her mother dove in as if they owned the place—and Elphaba supposed they did.

Trailing behind, she tried to take everything in without losing sight of them. A tailor carrying a cascade of sapphire tulle nearly knocked right into her, and her quick sidestep made her brush too close to a rack of gowns. When she glanced down, she found her sleeve covered in glitter.

And when she glanced about, she noticed the people staring at her. 

Well, it was only natural. Elphaba had just stumbled into a cluster of Gillikinese socialites, after all. It was no different than any other place she’d been in. Who cared?

“What’s this?” Galinda snorted when she noticed the mess Elphaba had made of her sleeve. 

At least Elphaba wasn’t alone.

She tried to brush the glitter off, but only succeeded in getting it all over her hand. “It looks like you sneezed on me.”

And Galinda laughed, light and airy. People were staring at her, too, no doubt recognizing who she was. She noticed the glances, of course, the whispers. She always did. She smiled at Elphaba and took her by the hand again. 

Unlike so many others, Galinda had never looked at Elphaba with disgust. There had been moments of shock, certainly, and plenty of curiosity—along with the absurd suggestion to “fix” the so-called problem—but it had never come across as unkind or malicious, not like it did from others.

“Over here, darlings,” Kalena called from somewhere ahead. “Don’t dally now.”

And Galinda tugged Elphaba along through the crowd. “So, what do you make of our humble family business?”

“I don’t know that I’d use the word humble,” said Elphaba, dodging yet another rack of tailored jackets. Everything here seemed intent on attacking her. “It’s—very loud. And how come you never told me about this?”

“I wanted to surprise you!”

“Consider me surprised.”

Smack in the middle of it all, like the most decorated centerpiece, a large mahogany counter ran in a perfect circle, its surface polished to a mirror finish. Inside it, shelves brimmed with tools, bolts of fabric, and sewing patterns. Several tailors bustled around, alternately taking payments and making adjustments.

Elphaba knew right away who Galinda’s mother was.

She wasn’t inside the counter but was conducting conversation nearby, clad in beautiful yellows and muted greens, with flower patterns all over her skirts. Her dark hair was pinned in elaborate twists with golden clasps, and there was just… something about her—that same prickly feeling from before—

It was magic.

Galinda rushed her way, but apparently she was allergic to letting go of Elphaba’s hand so Elphaba stumbled over her own feet in order to keep up.

The crowd parted a little for Galinda, who was making a ruckus just by existing, and thus it didn’t take long for her mother to notice her.

“You—” Whatever she was going to say was cut off as Galinda threw her arms around her. 

“I’m home! Surprise!”

Was it really a surprise? She knew Galinda was coming for the summer, didn’t she?

“You’re here?” 

Apparently not.

“How—what—?” The shock wore off immediately, and she returned the hug and even lifted Galinda off her feet for a singular clock tick. “You’re back! My, but is it summer already?”

“It is,” Galinda said with a giggle.

“And someone forgot to tell me you were coming.”

Kalena was very busy pretending to inspect her nails. “Who, me?”

“No, my other wife.”

“Oh, do forgive.” She laughed. “I just wanted to surprise you.”

“Consider me surprised.” And she fully turned to Galinda and dropped a kiss on the side of her head. Now she was taller than her daughter, though not by much. “Welcome home, honey. Who have you brought with you?”

“Ah, Elphie.” Galinda turned away from her mother’s arms and dragged Elphaba forward—something she had been doing all day. Elphaba had grown used to it. “This is my mother, Iliana Upland. And, this is—” 

“Elphaba Thropp.” If Galinda listed her useless pedigree a third time today, Elphaba would expire. The noise and bustle of this place was making her sweat under her collar—she did not expect it to be so hot on this side of Gillikin. “It’s lovely to meet you.”

“The roommate!” Galinda’s mother chuckled, and shook Elphaba’s hand, and said something… Elphaba was sure… 

It fell on deaf ears, as a sudden buzz coursed through Elphaba’s hand, like the vibrations of a rattling train car. The shop’s chatter vanished and resumed with blinding clarity—and judging by the look in Iliana’s eyes, Elphaba hadn’t been the only one to sense the otherness about it all.

“—right at home,” Iliana finished.

“Right, yes.” Elphaba cleared her throat. God, but she hadn’t caught a single word. “Thank you very much.”

“Um, what just happened?” Galinda muttered.

“Don’t you worry, duckie. I should be almost done here, give me a moment. What do you say to dining at home? Are you girls hungry?”

“Oh, yes! I feel like we spent forever on that boat. And you wouldn’t believe—”

Galinda prattled off about their trip, and Elphaba did her best to pay attention, she did, but the shop’s overwhelming atmosphere clawed at her senses. The layered buzz of voices and the pitter patter of feet and the rustle of fabrics and the clank of the sewing machines, all mixing with the humid northern air—she was sort of suffocating.

She readjusted the collar of her shirt, undid the top button of her jacket. How did Galinda manage with gloves?

“Elphie?”

Elphaba blinked, only now noticing Galinda’s mothers were on their way out, happily talking amongst themselves and greeting anyone who approached them—which was everyone.

“Are you alright?”

“I—” Elphaba pursed her lips. So many voices in this place. She drew a deep breath, trying her best to keep her composure lest she unleashed accidental magic. It had been a long time since her last outburst, and she was determined not to break her streak now. “I’m fine.”

“No, you’re not,” said Galinda. “I know that look in your eye. Sorry, I didn’t realize this place could be so much—come, let’s go out. Or was it Momsie? She can be quite overbearing, just like me I suppose—” She winced. “I should shut up, shouldn’t I?”

“What?” Elphaba followed her, though Galinda wasn’t leading her to the main doors. “No, keep talking.” It gave her something to focus on.

“Oh! Um, well. It’s just—you look like you did when you broke our balcony door, and I know it was because I couldn’t stop talking.”

“That’s not true,” Elphaba murmured. “I like hearing you speak. It’s the only reason I haven’t shattered all the glass in this place right now.”

Finally Galinda pulled her aside to a cooler room near the back. A sort of office, Elphaba realized, ledgers upon ledgers strewn about an elegant desk, documents neatly folded and stacked in shelves at the back.

When the door clicked behind them, it was mercifully quiet.

Elphaba breathed out, shook her hands and wiped the sweat pooling in them, and unbuttoned her jacket, feeling like there was finally air around her.

“Thank you,” she said softly.

Galinda was clearly still processing Elphaba saying she liked to hear her talk. “Huh? Oh! Yes, of course. Don’t mention it. Do you want something to drink? I can get you something, and then we can leave through the back door. No need to go through the crowd again.”

“I’m fine, we can leave. But, wait—” Elphaba caught Galinda’s wrist just as she turned. “You’re not overbearing.”

“What?”

“You said it earlier, but it’s not true. I broke the door back then because you put me on the spot regarding magic, which is a—sensitive topic sometimes. Since, you know, it makes me explode things with my mind and all that.”

“It also makes people fall asleep,” Galinda muttered.

“Will you ever let that go? I already said it was a mistake.”

“I’m just teasing.” Galinda chuckled. “But duly noted, it’s good to know it wasn’t just me exasperating you. Now let’s just go, I don’t want to keep—”

“And I would never tell you to shut up or be quiet.” I’m not like my father.

Galinda was stunned into quietness, ironically enough. 

“Alright, now we can go.” Elphaba breathed out, more relieved than just a moment ago. “I just needed to clear the air on that.”

“Why, thank you.” Galinda’s initial shock melted into something warmer as a genuine smile spread across her lips. “Now that you’ve said that, I shall take pride in talking your ears off.”

“I’d like nothing more.”

“Alright, so are we ready—?”

“Wait, actually, I can’t believe I didn’t ask right away.” Granted she’d been nearly overwhelmed. “Your mother’s a sorceress, isn’t she?”

“I knew something happened back there! Yes, Momsicle is, but she’s not as powerful as you. Then again, no one really is. You can ask her about it if you want, she loves talking about magic.”

Elphaba’s mouth curled into a little grin. “Mhm. I wonder where you get it from, then.”

“I rather suspect quite a few things about myself are going to fall into place, the more time you spend here.” She chuckled, and grabbed Elphaba’s hand again. “Now can we go? I for one am starving.”

“Alright, lead the way.”

“It’s a shame we have to sneak out through the back. I was fully prepared to cause a diversion if you needed a quick escape.”

“A diversion?”

“Yes! I mean full theatrics, Elphie. People love to see me when I make an entrance—or an exit—and it’s been ages since I’ve been here. I know I could’ve had them eating out of my hand while you slipped away unnoticed.”

“A shame we missed the opportunity.”

Galinda opened the back door to a surprisingly pristine alleyway, wide enough for loading and unloading goods comfortably.

“I’ll have to show you the shop properly sometime,” Galinda said. “When it’s empty. Maybe we’ll even find something nice for you to wear.”

Elphaba looked down at her clothes. “Am I not wearing something nice?”

Galinda sighed. “We won’t go through this again. Wearing all-black in Gillikin during summer is, in fact, a crime. Not to mention it will kill you.”

“Because of the heat? Or because someone will actually murder me?”

“Both,” Galinda said charmingly. “And I’ll be that ‘someone,’ for the record.”

“I wouldn’t have guessed anyone else,” said Elphaba. “Just like I couldn’t have guessed your family’s shop would be quite so... lively.”

“Oh, this? You caught us on a slow day. You should see it during the autumn fashion rush, where the whole world depends on getting the right lace.”

“Do you ever work at the shop too?”

“Work at the shop?” Galinda laughed so hard a few birds scattered above their heads. “Don’t be silly, Elphie. None of us ‘work’ at the shop. Momsie takes care of the finances and Momsicle gives advice here and there and she organizes everyone’s schedules and manages appointments.”

“That all sounds an awful lot like working.”

“But not like that.”

“There’s no shame in it, certainly.”

“Stop it, you.”

By then, they’d reached the front of the shop, where Galinda’s mothers were waiting, still deep in conversation.

The open air did wonders for Elphaba’s mood, her chest finally eased. The scent of fresh flowers mingled with the faint tang of the nearby dockyards, and the setting sun cast everything in a palette of soft pastels.

Maybe Elphaba should give it to Frottica.

Still, her attention drifted to Momsic—to Iliana. That prickling sensation was back, though muted this time. It was faintly reminiscent of being too close to Madame Morrible, that subtle air of otherness.

“Now what were you two doing?” asked Momsie—Kalena. Good grief. 

Elphaba thought she ought to let Galinda respond, but she was ready to defend her friend if need be, the last thing she wanted was for Galinda to get in trouble because she decided to help Elphaba’s discomfort. 

“Oh, nothing,” Galinda said easily. “Just showing Elphie the place.”

“Mhm. I’m sure you were.” 

Did she sound upset? Elphaba didn’t think so—her father would’ve been furious at the slight delay. But this was—

Galinda blushed, but rapidly cleared her throat. “So—dinner?” 

“Yes, dear. Dinner. If you can pull yourself away from your little tour long enough to join us.”

Oh, this was teasing.

“Momsie!” Galinda huffed, her hands fluttering dramatically. “It’s not like that.”

“Of course not,” Kalena said airily. “What is it like, then?”

“It’s just—nothing you should worry about.”

“I feel like I should worry about it,” Kalena said. “You’ve been dragging Elphaba around like a lost toddler all day.”

Elphaba, feeling the heat rise to her own cheeks now, decided it was time to intervene. “I don’t mind. It’s entertaining.”

“Aw, just entertaining?” Galinda asked with a smile. “I was aiming to make you feel truly excited.”

“Give it time, I’m sure we’ll get there.”

“I don’t know, Elphie.” Galinda’s voice dropped almost to a whisper. “I’m not too patient. How much time should I give it?”

Someone cleared her throat before Elphaba could respond—it could’ve been either of Galinda’s mothers. Maybe both.

Galinda blinked. “Let’s just—head home for dinner.”

They lived in a manor, naturally—though it was far cozier than Elphaba had imagined.

The air was pleasantly cool, carrying a faint scent of cinnamon and lemon polish. Elphaba hovered by the spacious foyer, eyes tracing the delicate stonework of the walls and ceiling, subtle and harmonious patterns lovingly etched. 

Though it was what she expected from a Gillikinese manor—clearly expensive furniture and carpets, embroidered curtains, polished marble floors—there was no coldness, no oppressive grandeur. It felt nothing like Elphaba’s own childhood home, looming Colwen Grounds, with its endless silent hallways and locked doors.

Galinda’s belongings were stacked haphazardly near the base of the grand staircase, though much of it had already disappeared—likely spirited away to her room. Elphaba’s single, battered valise, however, was nowhere in sight.

While Galinda marched on, Elphaba still hesitated, her boots scuffing slightly on the edge of the rug. She wondered, not for the first time, why she had agreed to this visit. She was out of place, like a smudge on an otherwise pristine surface

“Well, go on in, honey,” a voice said behind her. It was Iliana. “Make yourself at home, please.”

Uncomfortable or not, Elphaba still wanted to make a good impression. “Thank you, Mrs. Upland.”

She immediately realized she’d said something wrong, for a muscle in Iliana’s cheek twitched imperceptibly. “That’s—”

“Galinda, darling,” Kalena cut in that very second, appearing as if out of nowhere. “Why don’t you show Elphaba to her room? And then you can let me know if anything isn’t up to standard, please. I’ll see to it at once.”

“I don’t think that’ll be necessary, Mrs. Upland.”

Oh, she’d said something wrong again. Same muscle twitch—

“You—”

“Alright!” Galinda materialized as if out of thin air. Maybe it ran in the family. “Come with me, Elphie, let me show you upstairs and then we can get ready for dinner together.”

And so for the millionth time that day, she grabbed Elphaba’s hand and tugged her away.

And, for the millionth and one time that day, Elphaba followed her.

“You don’t have to be so formal around them,” Galinda said. “You can just be yourself.”

“I am myself.”

“No, you’re not. You’re way too formal and you know it. Why are you trying so hard?”

“I—” Elphaba’s words got lodged in her throat as Galinda opened the door to what was supposed to be the guest room. It was way bigger than the room they shared at Shiz. “Your family is nice.”

Galinda’s face softened, though whatever she was thinking was lost to Elphaba. “I know, that’s exactly why there’s no need for you to do all that you were doing. All they really want is for you to like them.”

“Is that so?” Elphaba blinked. “Why would they care if I like them?”

“Because you’re important to me, so obviously you’re important to them.”

It took a moment before Elphaba could find words for that. “I’m sorry, I was just nervous. I wanted them to like me too.”

“I have never seen you so nervous.”

“And I have never seen you so happy.”

Odd thing to say, perhaps, to the girl who had enough energy to power the entire sun if it ever decided to go dark. But there was a difference between Galinda at Shiz and Galinda here at home. She was always at ease in her own body, in her own space, but she only allowed herself to relax her shoulders here.

“Am I really?” Galinda hummed. “I suppose I was a little nostalgic, and there’s no place like home.”

“Trust me, if I took you to my home you’d think the opposite.” Elphaba walked into the room finally, feeling uneasy yet again for reasons she could not name. 

They had delivered her valise but left it untouched. The cupboard was clean and waiting, and the large bed was made. There were tons of little knick knacks on the shelves, on the vanity table. By all intents and purposes, it did look like someone had put an effort into making the room as cozy as possible.

And there was a note on said vanity table, fancy handwriting in golden ink. Welcome to the Upland House, Elphaba! It’s great!

“It’s great,” Elphaba said, amused.

Galinda was staring at the note too, standing behind her and resting her chin on Elphaba’s shoulder. “It is great, is it not?”

“So far?” Elphaba tilted her head a little. Galinda’s hair tickled, Elphaba wasn’t sure if she was chasing for more or less contact. “I’d say it’s pretty great, yes.”

“I’m glad you said yes to coming here, Elphie.” She squeezed both of Elphaba’s shoulders before stepping away to inspect around the room, as if she had never been in it before.

Elphaba trailed her fingers over where Galinda’s hair had tickled her neck, smiling to herself. “Well, I’m glad you invited me.”

“I couldn’t in good conscience let you spend the summer at campus,” Galinda said. “Though, truthfully, I’ve always wanted to invite you over. I waited so long in case you were planning to go home.”

Not in a million years. In fact, if Elphaba could spend a million years without going back to her father’s house, she would.

“I would’ve ended there regardless of my plans. My father wouldn’t have allowed me to wiggle out of assisting Nessa on the trip home unless I had a good reason to. So, thank you for being that good reason.”

“You know me, I love helping others,” Galinda said seriously. 

Elphaba was still surprised her father allowed this little holiday, though she’d had to ask Nessa to convince him everything would be perfectly fine, and she was capable of boarding a boat or a train without Elphaba, and it would be swell if Elphaba spent some time with her friend.

It was Nessarose’s intervention that got Elphaba here; their father could never deny his precious little girl.

“Oho! Look at this!” Galinda pointed out a little metal box on top of one of the nightstands. It was filled with butter and sugar cookies. “A welcome gift.”

“Mhm.” Elphaba plucked one out and popped it into her mouth. “I’m feeling very welcomed.”

“There’s chocolate, too, and nougat—we love that over here. And, look, all sorts of nuts and dry fruit. Oh, you must try the fig spread in one of these cookies, it’s to die for.”

“Am I being fed because they’re planning to cook me later or—?”

Galinda snorted, a little too loudly, and ran a hand down Elphaba’s arm. “You’re funny, Elphie.”

Was she?

“I should—” Elphaba cleared her throat. “I should get ready for dinner. Let’s save all of this for later.”

For a moment they held each other’s gaze, and Elphaba was sure Galinda could see something she couldn’t. It was, inexplicably, a very charged tick of the time clock between them, until Galinda licked her lips and gave herself a shake, and smiled that easy smile of hers.

“You can use the lavatory at the end of the hall. I’ll come to collect you in a few.”

“You don’t have to, I know how to get back downstairs.”

“Don’t fight me on this, Elphie,” Galinda said. “Toodles!”

Chapter Text

Galinda could get used to the sight of Elphie here, in her home.

“Oh I’ve never seen this one,” she said, pinching the fabric of Elphie’s ridiculously adorable knit turtleneck. And she was wearing her spectacles, too. So cute. “I simply love it, you look awfully cozy.”

“Why, thank you.”

Galinda adjusted Elphaba’s collar. Not because she needed to, but just because she wanted to, and she could. She let the back of her fingers brush against Elphaba’s neck, and looked closely for a reaction—

Elphaba just smiled at her, thanking her yet again. 

Galinda sighed. “Let’s go downstairs.” And she linked her arm with Elphie’s—again, not because she needed to, but just because she wanted to. 

They walked down the grand staircase together, and Galinda couldn’t help but slow her pace, savoring every step and feeling oddly satisfied with herself. Elphaba here, in her hometown, in her house, right by her side like this, as if they had always walked through life arm-in-arm.

“It smells good,” Elphaba said. 

“I think you’ll be pleased.”

“With dinner?”

“Mhm. I made sure of it.”

“Of what?”

But they had finally made it to the dining room, so the question hung in the air, to be responded later on.

Galinda’s mothers were already seated at the long, delicately set table. Galinda had missed the simple flower arrangements and the candles, the soft hue of the mantelpiece. She’d missed the comfort of her home, truly. 

“There you are,” said Momsie, flashing a grin, twirling her glass of wine. “We were about to send someone up.”

“Good of you to join us, honey.” Momsicle’s gaze flicked between Galinda and Elphaba, before settling on their joined arms. “Fashionably late, I see.”

“I do love an entrance,” Galinda said easily, but glanced to see if Elphaba was uncomfortable—she didn’t seem to be. Good, then. But not even a little sheepish at the implication? Hurtful.

Galinda guided Elphaba to the seat next to hers—again, not because she needed to, but because she wanted to.

The first course was a cucumber soup, but Galinda was more concerned with the way her mothers were exchanging glances. She knew those glances well: the silent, amused kind that meant they had picked up on something.

She ignored them. Or tried to, anyway.

“It’s so good to have you here, Elphaba,” said Momsie. By the look in her eye, Galinda could tell this wasn’t her first glass of wine, or even her second. “Galinda’s written so much about you in her letters—it feels like we already know you.”

Elphaba gave Galinda a sidelong little smile. Flattered, for sure—and so infuriatingly pretty. “I wish I could say the same, but Galinda doesn’t talk much about you.”

Galinda gawked. “That’s so untrue!”

And though Elphaba was clearly teasing, and trying to steer the conversation away from herself, Momsie was undeterred. “She does tend to leave out important details, yes? Like the two of you! Galinda, I cannot believe you omitted to tell us.”

“What? What are you on about? Tell you what?”

“That you’re together, of course.”

Elphaba choked on her sip of water.

Oh, so now she reacted to the implications? Again, hurtful.

“We’re not,” Galinda said flatly.

“You’re not?” Now it was Momsicle who frowned. 

“No,” Galinda said again, not letting any sort of emotion bleed into her voice. “We’re not. We’re just friends.”

Momsicle tilted her head slightly, her expression softening as she studied them. “Oh. Our mistake, then.”

“Ah, I see, you’re still just friends. I understand.”

“There’s—” That was what finally made Galinda blush. She couldn’t even bring herself to look at Elphaba. “There’s no need to use ‘still’ in that sentence.”

“Well, forgive me, but the way you two came in arm-in-arm, giggling and whispering—”

“Momsie,” Galinda hissed, her cheeks blazing pink.

“You know, your mother and I were just friends for a—”

“For the love of goodness,” Galinda said, “stop.”

“I’m only saying!” Momsie said with an exaggerated shrug. “It’s lovely to see you so comfortable with someone, darling. That’s all.”

Galinda would kill to see Elphaba’s expression at that moment, but looking at her would unfortunately also kill Galinda on the spot.

“If I continue to be teased I shall have no further option than to talk away from this table—”

“It’s alright,” Elphaba said, her voice so cool and measured. Even a little amused. “I take it as a compliment. I’m comfortable around you, too, and I never thought I’d have a friend so close, let alone that it would be someone like you.”

Oh that pesky little word. Friend. Why had Galinda insisted on that? Could she not have used any other word? But what was she supposed to say instead? That they were roommates?

Now wait a moment— “Someone like me?”

Elphaba nodded. “Yes. So kind and lovely, I mean.”

“That’s—” Galinda blinked, acutely aware of the other two pairs of eyes that were bearing into them. She had to get it together, otherwise she would never hear the end of it. “That’s sweet of you to say, Elphie, thank you. I think of you the very same way, you know?”

“It’s becoming apparent, yes.”

“Well,” Momsicle interjected smoothly, “glad we could move on from our little assumption. And just in time for the main course! Beautiful timing indeed.”

Galinda absolutely welcomed the shift as the soup plates were cleared and the proper meal was brought in. Layers and layers of thinly sliced roasted eggplant, cashew cheese, and hearty tomato sauce. Galinda knew Elphie would love it, and was satisfied when she did.

“No meat,” she remarked after having dug around with her fork for a clock tick. Not the most proper way of doing things, but who was Galinda to judge?

“Of course,” Galinda said, resting her chin on her hand as she looked at Elphaba. Also not the most proper posture, but she didn’t care. 

“Galinda made your preferences clear,” Momsie chimed in. “But if you don’t like this we could—”

“No, no,” Elphaba quickly rushed to say. When she looked up from her plate, her eyes were wide, her smile was a little shy. “It’s perfect, thank you.”

Galinda wanted to take her hand and squeeze it for all she was worth, and she wanted to take Elphie into her arms and hug her for the rest of the night. She was too aware she was being watched by hawks, though, so she didn’t do any of that. 

The affection that came so naturally to her was under too much scrutiny, and she didn’t want the comments making Elphaba uncomfortable again.

Conversation drifted a bit, and Galinda waited for an opening—when her mothers began talking to each other about something pertaining to the shop—for her to lower her voice and address only Elphie.

“I’m sorry about that,” Galinda whispered, leaning closer to her.

“Sorry about what?” Elphaba’s lips twitched with the hint of a smile.

“My parents,” Galinda said. “They can be—”

“Charming?” 

“Overbearing.”

Elphaba shrugged. “I’ve dealt with worse.”

Right. Elphaba didn’t talk much about her life back in Munchkinland, but she never had anything good to say about it unless she was talking about her sister. 

And yet Elphaba was never upset about it. Even when telling Galinda she believed herself responsible for her mother’s death, there had been nothing but a quiet resignation and a deep, deep hurt.

It made Galinda want to shield her from every unkind thing in the world. Even if, at the start, she herself had been one of those unkind things in Elphaba’s world. Maybe that was why she felt so protective nowadays.

“And besides,” Elphaba added, her tone soft. “It was hardly a crime, and I know they mean well.”

Galinda needed a moment. Right. They were talking about her mothers. “They do,” she said, her heart heavy with all sorts of different types of love.

By the time dessert arrived—an elegantly plated strawberry sorbet with a drizzle of butterscotch syrup—the earlier tension had faded completely.

Galinda relaxed as the sorbet was placed in front of her, happy to not participate in the conversation for once. Her mothers had thankfully moved on to inquiring about Elphaba’s studies, and her plans for the future, and if she intended to go back to Munchkinland and pursue a political career like her father, or if she wanted to continue with the sorcery path—

Galinda blushed again. Why, but they were interrogating her the way parents would a potential suitor!

Elphaba, for her part, seemed genuinely engaged, responding with her usual poise, and even chuckling at the right moments, totally oblivious to the underlying intentions.

The sight made Galinda have to bite down a sigh. Elphie was so charming sometimes, she was so well-spoken, and passionate, and so clearly very intelligent; and the light of the candles and chandelier made her eyes gleam in a most intoxicating way. If only those annoying spectacles weren’t in the way—

“Galinda, sweetling, you’ll have a soup by the end of this if you don’t get on with it.”

“What?” Galinda blinked herself out of her stupor, and realized her sorbet was almost completely melted because she’d been ignoring it. “Oh, right.”

“Don’t you like it?” Elphaba asked her. “Butterscotch’s my favorite.”

“Oh, we know,” Momsie said cheekily. “It was in the letters.”

Someone strike Galinda down, please.

But Elphaba was so clearly flattered, and the smile she gave Galinda was so pretty. “You pay so much attention to me, I’m touched.”

Momsie chuckled. “I’d say she does.” 

“Well I’m—” Galinda floundered. How embarrassing! She was absolutely not used to floundering, and yet in two sentences from her mother her control of the conversation had fled her. What could Galinda say, that she hung onto every word Elphaba ever spoke and strove to please her in whatever way she could in valiant—and unnoticed—attempts to woo her? “I’m a good friend.”

Mm. First thing she would do after dinner was over would be taking a walk in the garden to find the nearest patch of dirt where she could bury herself. Yes. 

“You are,” Elphaba said.

Oh, Galinda couldn’t wait.

To top it all, her mothers were having a field day. They were even laughing, and neither of them were even attempting to conceal it.

Galinda ate her stupid soupy sorbet.

Elphie had taken so much convincing to come to Frottica.

Galinda had worried the atmosphere of her house would feel too formal or stifling—then realized Elphaba had probably been raised in way more formal and stifling places, and she began worrying her house may be the opposite. Too chaotic.

She shouldn’t have worried.

“We usually try to have meals together if we can,” Momsicle said as they all hovered by the bottom of the staircase. “So, if you please, you’re welcomed to break fast with us as well.”

“Of course I please,” Elphaba said. “Thank you for including me.”

“Nonsense, this was a lovely time and a half,” said Momsie. “And you’re family now, dear.”

Galinda’s heart fluttered, her cheeks heating as she glanced at Elphaba to gauge her reaction. Elphaba looked startled by the declaration but she didn’t protest; a small, almost shy smile tugging at her lips instead.

“Thank you, Mrs. Upland.”

Ah. There was no way that was going to fly.

“Please stop calling me that.”

“Or me,” added Momsicle.

Elphaba frowned. “Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t—I’m not sure which of you is Ms. Upland and—”

“There’s no need for that, honey. You can call us as Galinda does, I’d say that’s more fitting.”

Momsie beamed. “Oh, yes!”

There was no way Elphaba was going to do that. Galinda had to come to the rescue. “Give it a rest, you two. Leave poor Elphie alone, she has foreign customs unfamiliar to ours.”

“Nonsense—”

“Did I say something wrong or—?” 

“Don’t you worry, Elphie,” said Galinda.” “It’s just that it makes them feel so old. We’re going now.” And she grabbed Elphaba’s arm to tug her up the stairs. “We have lots to unpack and we shouldn’t waste our time. Good night to you, Ms. and Mrs. Upland.”

“Don’t you start!”

Galinda rolled onto her side for what felt like the hundredth time. Her childhood room felt unfamiliar now, the beloved bed that once brought her comfort provided none, and the silk mask over her eyes failed to shield her from the restless thoughts that kept sleep at bay.

Huffing, Galinda pushed the mask off and sat up, frustrated. It wasn’t the room, nor the bed, nor the mask. It was her . She couldn’t stop replaying the evening: Elphaba’s smiles, her soft laughter, the way her hand so perfectly curled around Galinda’s whenever Galinda wanted it to.

Giving up entirely, she swung her legs over the edge of the bed and padded across the room. The cool floor against her bare feet made her wince. She needed air. 

Draping a shawl over her shoulders, more for comfort than the chill, she stepped out into the hallway and made her way outside.

The house’s backyard sported a lovely little garden, paths of packed dirt amongst stone benches and rose bushes and weeping willow trees. Galinda breathed in the scented breeze, trying to let it settle her jitters.

What was wrong with her? So infatuated she couldn’t sleep? How absurd!

She wandered aimlessly for a moment, but as she rounded a corner comprised of rose-covered trellis, a familiar silhouette came into view, framed by the silvery moonlight.

“Elphie?” Galinda called in a voice barely audible over the breeze.

Elphaba turned to her, standing with her hands tucked into the pockets of her infuriatingly endearing turtleneck. And how great, she had let all of her braids down. She was trying to give Galinda an aneurysm.

“Oh, hi. Couldn’t sleep either?”

“No.” Galinda stepped closer. She was decidedly aware this was an awfully romantic setting. A moonlit stroll through the garden? The story was writing itself at this point. Too bad Galinda’s scene partner was so unwilling to play the part. “Are you alright, Elphie?”

“Yes, just unused to the quiet.”

“The—quiet?”

Elphaba glanced her way, a wry smile on her lips. “I miss your snoring.”

“I do not snore!” Galinda swatted her arm. “The nerve to even say such a thing!”

“How would you know? You can’t hear yourself if you’re asleep.”

“I know myself better than anybody.” She tossed her hair over her shoulder. “Believe me, I would know if I snored.”

“You don’t know yourself as much as you think.”

“Excuse you, I’ve known myself for nearly twenty years and you for less than one, so, thank you very much.”

Elphaba giggled.

Galinda was painfully in love.

“If you miss my snoring so much,” Galinda said, “you’re welcome to share a room with me again.”

“You want me to sleep in your room? Your actual room?”

Well, when she put it like that it did sound quite silly. And a little desperate. Galinda was grasping at straws here. “Why not?”

“How things have changed,” Elphaba said, still incredibly amused. “From reluctantly giving me one half of a corner, to now—”

“Oh, shut up, Elphie. I saved you a whole drawer, and gave you the perfectest corner. Didn’t you read the sign I made you?”

“It was great, sure.” Elphaba laughed again. “But you don’t have to worry, the guest room is perfectly acceptable.”

Mm. Galinda was struck with the thought that Elphaba may be the only girl in the world who’d say no to sleeping in her room with her. 

As if she was going to let that stop her. 

“But aren’t you terribly lonely? Here in this foreign city? This brand new place? Wouldn’t you like some company from someone you know?” She put a hand on Elphaba’s arm and even batted her eyelashes. She could’ve tossed her hair, too, but decided that would just make Elphaba laugh instead of making her take this seriously. Galinda had to pick her weapons carefully. “I also miss you being nearby, maybe that’s why I can’t sleep either.”

Alright that was just not true. Proximity to Elphaba would probably make her lovesick thoughts worse, not better, but Galinda didn’t mind. 

“Well, we can’t have that,” said Elphaba. “I can’t refuse now, and I don’t want you to get mad at me if you miss your beauty sleep.”

So Elphaba thought nothing of the proposition. Nothing at all. It figured. 

She thought nothing of Galinda saying she needed her around to fall asleep? This was getting ridiculous. 

Were boys this clueless, too? Galinda wouldn’t know. 

“So let’s head back,” Galinda said, wrapping a hand around Elphaba’s wrist.

Surely no one can be this clueless, right? Galinda thought. 

“Fine,” Elphaba said. “Let’s.”

I stand corrected.

“Wait, in fact—” 

“Changing your mind?” Elphaba asked. 

With one hand on Elphaba’s, and another on the doorknob to the guest room, Galinda shook her head. 

“Not about you, but about where we’re going. I don’t have any of those delectable sweets in my room! So we’re staying here instead.”

Elphaba was more than happy to share her welcome gifts. 

Galinda went through them while Elphaba braided her hair for the night—or she pretended to go through them, while in reality she was sneaking glances at Elphaba, mesmerized by the way her hands moved so dexterously, the flex of her fingers, the elegant lines of her neck which were revealed more and more as she pushed hair out of the way.

Galinda looked down at what she was doing, mortified, her mouth dry, and trying oh so very hard not to think about how it would feel to press her lips against the back of Elphie’s neck.

At least Elphaba had not caught her staring.

“You know, if you braided your hair too you wouldn’t have to curl it every morning.”

Galinda blinked. “Huh?”

“You stare at me every night, isn’t that what you’re wondering?”

Oh it was time to head back out into the garden, Galinda hadn’t found that patch of dirt after all. “No, that’s—I do know that, but I like the morning routine. It wakes me right up.”

Elphaba twisted her braids up the back of her head, and wrapped them in a long, silken headscarf. Galinda had seen her do this countless times before, and yet she never got tired of it. 

“Your hair is so gorgeous,” she blurted out—but smoothly. Easily. She was good at this. “The braids really suit you.”

“Thank you,” said Elphaba with the most satisfied little smile ever. Enchanting. But not flustered. In fact, Galinda didn’t think she had ever managed to fluster Elphaba. Except that one time she ran out of the dorm after Galinda called her beautiful. Apparently, Galinda could flirt a little too hard. “Yours is too, and the way you wear it suits you as well.”

Galinda would never change her hairstyle for as long as she lived. 

“Now should we eat these things?”

“Huh? Oh!” Galinda gave herself a little shake. “Yes, sure.”

They sat cross-legged on the bed, only accompanied by the light of the nightstand lamp and the crinkling of cookie wrappers.

Elphaba hated crumbs on her bed—something Galinda had fully taken advantage of during the month they wasted pretending to hate each other—so Galinda had spread an extra blanket to be removed later. 

For now, they were content. 

Galinda dug out a bit more of the fig spread with a cookie, and sighed. “You wouldn’t mind if I finished this, would you?”

Elphaba arched an eyebrow. “I’d mind very much, actually.”

“Well, that’s a shame, because it’s happening regardless.” Galinda flashed her her most charming grin.

Elphaba rolled her eyes but didn’t bother fighting about it, and clearly she was not very charmed. Yet another lost battle. Instead, Elphaba leaned back against the headboard, stretching her long legs out in front of her. 

She was wearing the same drab white nightgown she wore at Shiz, still with her turtleneck on top, and Galinda couldn’t help but think that there were so many other ways to keep warm if Elphaba was truly chilly.

The thought horrified her for how untoward it was. 

Quickly pushing it away, Galinda cleared her throat, and shifted to sit beside Elphaba. “Did you have a good first day here?”

“Of course,” Elphaba said. “What are the plans for tomorrow?”

“You’re already asking that?” Galinda smiled again. “You must be really having fun.”

“I am, even right now when you’re here, eating all my sweets and ruining my perfectly clean guest bed.”

“Ruining? And after I went out of my way to make sure not a single crumb touched your precious linens, which are technically my precious linens.”

“Forgive me.” Elphaba chuckled. “You are very kind and generous indeed, and have nothing but other people’s comfort in mind.”

Galinda also laughed, feeling as if she was back at Shiz—although she and Elphie had never shared a bed before, not like this.

She rested her head on Elphaba’s shoulder, found her hand to idly play with her fingers. “I’m glad we’re here together.”

“Me too.”

“Even with my mothers teasing us so much?”

“I told you I thought of it as a compliment,” Elphaba said. “And I don’t mind.”

Galinda felt her cheeks warm, but didn’t back away. “It feels… easy, doesn’t it? Being like this.”

“It does, which is strange. I’m not used to easy.”

The simplicity of the statement, and the quiet vulnerability beneath it, tugged at Galinda’s heart. Of course Elphie wasn’t used to easy, not the way Galinda was. 

Galinda was supposed to be flirting, but Elphaba’s honesty gave her pause, as it so often did. That was exactly why Galinda liked her—because Elphaba disarmed her.

And then Elphaba kept eating the cookies and the fig spread, like nothing was happening.

Galinda supposed that, for her, nothing was happening indeed.

“You can have the rest,” Elphaba said.

“No, you have it. You’re my beloved guest after all.”

“It gets tiring after eating too much—way too sweet.”

“Who ever complains about sweetness? Honestly, Elphie, you can’t live on tea and sarcasm alone.”

“I’ll have you know tea and sarcasm have served me quite well.”

“Maybe so, but imagine how much better you’d feel with a little sugar in your life.” What was she even saying? God. Why couldn’t Elphaba see that Galinda wanted so badly to kiss her she was spewing out a bunch of nonsense?

“Here.” Elphaba split their last cracker in two, and scooped up the spread in equal measures, spoon scraping against the end of the jar, and handed one to Galinda.

“You just made a huge mess when you broke the cookie.”

“Good thing you got this blanket. Cheers.”

Galinda couldn’t help but laugh, accepting the crumbly half of the cookie and holding it up in a mock toast. “To shared snacks and shared beds,” she said, her voice light but her heart thrumming in her chest.

Thankfully Elphaba was laughing too. “And to avoiding crumbs at all costs.”

They finished the last bites in comfortable silence, Galinda feeling far more full of sugar and yearning than was probably wise before bed. 

When they were done, they got up and dusted themselves off, and very meticulously folded the crumb-covered blanket and put it away.

“There,” Galinda said. “Perfectly clean. Are you satisfied now?”

Elphaba settled against the headboard again, head tilted back, eyes closed. She had finally removed her spectacles. “Completely. I can sleep soundly now.”

“Good.” Galinda stifled a yawn. It was far too late—or early, depending on perspective. She sank back into the bed, tugging the regular blanket up around her shoulders and glancing at Elphaba. “Are you going to stay like that all night? You’ll get a crick in your neck.”

Elphaba cracked one eye open. “What do you suggest, Miss Galinda?”

“I suggest lying down properly, for one. This is your bed, isn’t it?”

“You seem to be enjoying it more than I am.”

Galinda gave her a playful nudge. “Don’t be ridiculous. Get in here, Elphie.”

“You’re using my pillow.”

“What? There’s plenty more—”

“I know, but I had already put my pillowcase on that one.”

“Oh.” Galinda propped herself up a little, and ran her hand over it. “So soft—silk?”

“Mhm. Otherwise, if my hair falls out of the wrap, it gets frizzy.”

“I’d rather die than be responsible for that. My apologies.”

“Thank you kindly.”

Pillows swapped and lamp off, they finally settled on their sides, facing each other. Elphaba had a soft look about her. Content once more. As the room fell quiet, Galinda closed her eyes, her body settling into the warmth of the bed and the reassuring presence of Elphaba beside her.

A few clock ticks passed, Galinda was lulled by the slow breathing of the girl next to her, until a quiet voice broke the stillness.

“Galinda?”

“Hm?” she murmured sleepily.

“Thank you.”

Galinda opened her eyes just a sliver, catching the faint outline of Elphaba’s face in the dark. “For what?”

“I’m just really glad to be here for the summer.”

Galinda reached out, her hand finding Elphaba’s under the blanket, and gave it a gentle squeeze. “And I’m glad you’re here, Elphie.”

Chapter Text

“How long do you give them?”

“A week.”

“A week! So little time? It’s a long summer.”

“Perhaps before the weekend, even. Galinda is quite clearly trying her best.”

Galinda halted just outside the breakfast hall, frowning as she heard her name.

“She is, isn’t she?” Momsie giggled. “I want to give them until next week, at least.”

“You’re so very hopeful, dearest. They’re sleeping in the same room.”

A gasp. “No.”

“Yes.”

“My word. Should we enforce an open-door policy?”

“I don’t think they need it yet—actually, should we bet on it? How long will it take them to realize?”

Galinda stormed in, her face already red. Goodness, but she’d just woken up too, she shouldn’t have to be dealing with this so early. “Now what in the name of Oz are you talking about?”

Her mothers froze mid-laugh, caught like schoolgirls whispering in the back of class. Momsie, ever the quicker thinker, pressed a hand dramatically over her chest. “Oh, darling, you startled us!”

Galinda crossed her arms and fixed them with a glare. “Well, you startled me. What exactly are we meant to be realizing?”

They exchanged the kind of look that had infuriated Galinda since she was a little girl. It was the look of co-conspirators, smug and knowing.

“Nothing, honey,” Momsicle said. “Just some friendly parental speculation.”

“Speculation about me, you mean.”

“Well, you’re our only child,” Momsie said, her smile sickeningly sweet. “Who else are we supposed to talk about?”

“How am I supposed to know!? Talk about yourselves, about the shop—about the weather, or whatever else!”

“Honey, the weather isn’t half as interesting as you are.”

Galinda felt her blush deepen. “I heard what you said about Elphie and me sharing a room. For your information, we were just having a perfectly innocent midnight dessert.”

“Is that what they’re calling it these days?” Momsicle murmured, and Momsie dissolved into giggles.

Galinda groaned. “Refrain from such baseless teasing, I beg of you.”

“We’re only having a bit of fun, sweetling,” Momsie said, still so amused her voice had risen in pitch. “You must admit, it’s rather adorable how close you two have become.”

“But get it through your thick heads that we're just friends, before you make Elphaba uncomfortable again.”

Though, truly, Elphaba hadn't looked all that uncomfortable, just surprised—and then she'd taken it all in with humor, in her usual quiet way. 

“Friends?” Momsicle said. “I heard the two of you giggling in the garden last night.”

“And you are constantly holding hands,” Momsie added.

“And now you’re sharing a bed.”

“That was one time!” Galinda snapped.

“Oh, so it won’t happen again?”

Galinda fumed, but had no answer as her mothers grinned the exact same infuriating grin, far too pleased with themselves.

“We're not teasing to be cruel, honey,” Momsicle said, reaching for her teacup. “We just think you and Elphaba make a lovely pair.”

Galinda opened her mouth to protest, but the words caught in her throat. What was she supposed to say? That they were wrong? That she didn’t think Elphaba was wonderful and beautiful and fascinating? That she hadn’t spent hours lying awake last night, next to her, replaying every little moment they’d shared? That she hadn’t spent the greater portion of the morning staring at her in the gentle light of the sunrise? In a normal way, of course.

“I’m going to get breakfast,” she declared instead.

She could tell her mothers were waiting until she was out of ear shot to keep talking, but they didn’t wait quite enough.

“See?” Momsie whispered. “A week is simply too little time. You must revise. I’d say the beginning of next month.”

And Momsicle said, “Surely it won’t take longer than this month.”

“Seems like we have a bet.”

“This used to be Galinda’s favorite place in the world when she was a child.”

“Used to be?” Galinda chuckled. “It still is.”

Elphaba stepped into the museum, and the sheer space of the place struck her. Though this was only the entryway, it felt more like a landscape. Marble columns, taller than any she had ever seen, shot towards the ceiling—thick as oak trees, so high they seemed to stretch on for days, as if designed to hold up the sky itself.

She tilted her head back, realizing all the light in the room came from tall windows high above, as well as the skylight ceiling, glass and brass railings intertwined. Pale sunlight spilled across the floor—which seemed to be made of grass. All around her, elegant arches and graceful walkways stretched over multiple levels, with sloping steps leading deeper into the museum, and people wandered through, sharing quiet conversation beneath the natural sunbeams.

Elphaba licked her lips, sort of in awe. It felt like being outdoors and yet not. It was as though she had stepped into a forest made of stone.

“You love it!” Galinda beamed beside her. 

“I can easily see why it’s your favorite place in the world, yes.”

“Look here.” Galinda pointed up, toward the underside of the great arch shaping the entryway. Ornamental carvings of stone endlessly twirled together like loops of rope. “The famous archivolt of the Archivolt Museum.”

The details were staggering, no wonder it gave the museum its name. “And to think you’d never see it if you didn’t look up.”

“Right! That is why one must always pay attention to detail. Now come.” 

They walked in, Kalena and Iliana trailing behind them—well, the others walked. Elphaba, as usual, was being dragged forward.

She didn’t mind. There was a pleasant buzz where Galinda’s fingers curled in the crook of her arm.

“And we’re just in time,” Galinda said. “They just finished setting up the summer exhibition, and it’s spectacular. Just look at how they renovated the Great Hall.”

She gestured downward, and Elphaba followed her gaze. Their steps were muffled by what was indeed grass—real, impossibly green grass indoors. In this enormous hall of stone and light, the sight was quite odd, and yet quite fitting.

“So this isn’t usually here?”

“Oh, no,” Galinda said. 

“So how did they—? Is it magic?”

“Only of a sort.” Galinda smiled. “It’s a scaffolding, Elphie, raised just above the real floor. They’re able to remove it whenever they want.”

“Very impressive,” Elphaba said, and meant it. Though more than appraising the work, she was impressed by Galinda herself and the way her enthusiasm made her glow.

“This whole place is impressive,” she said, now pointing upward. “You must’ve seen the columns. Palantine Revival. Some of the tallest in all of Oz—seventy-five feet high, made of more than seventy thousand bricks. They only look like marble. The museum repaints them every ten years to keep the looks.”

Elphaba squinted against the sunlight to take in the sheer height, and the curved ornaments at the very top, then she glanced back down, intending to say something—but whatever words she had vanished from her mind.

Galinda was looking up too. Sunbeams tangled in her golden hair, light seemingly pooling in that little dimple of hers, and Elphaba’s breath caught in her throat. It wasn’t just the light that suited her; it was the unguarded moment, the slope of her excited smile, the crinkle about her eyes.

Elphaba cleared her throat, had to look away from her. This wasn’t new. She had listened to Galinda talk excitedly about this for hours and hours, she had seen this enthusiasm up close countless of times, had leaned over her notebook to peer over impeccable lines and calculations that made no sense to her, only to be able to ask and hear Galinda explain.

But now something felt—different. More real, somehow, away from Shiz and away from deadlines and grades. This wasn’t Galinda studying for her classes, this was just—herself.

“Speechless, I see,” Galinda said with a sly grin.

She had no idea.

“Show me more,” Elphaba said. More of this place—and more of you.

“Oh! Gladly!” And with a laugh, Galinda tugged her forward once again.

Their footsteps crunched faintly over the lawn as Galinda led her up a gentle incline. The space stretched out gracefully, dotted with small clusters of chairs and café tables where visitors lounged with cups of coffee. A few families played lawn games—tossing bright cloth bags at wooden boards, laughing when they missed. The whole thing felt oddly intimate, as though someone had invited the entire city into their private garden.

Northern Gillikin surely was… relaxed, Elphaba noted as she glanced around.

They came to a stop near the end of the lawn, where Galinda studied the archways leading deeper into the museum.

“What is it?” asked Elphaba. “Lost?”

“No, it’s just—I can’t decide if I want to take you to my favorite exhibition or the new one they just put up that I also really want to see. It’s about Parrith.”

“Ah, Parrith.” Elphaba nodded. “What’s Parrith?”

“It’s a who,” said Galinda with a chuckle. “He’s a landscape architect, and he brought some of his work here.”

“And you’re an admirer of his?”

Her cheeks got slightly pink. “Perhaps.”

Elphaba laughed. “We just got here. Can’t we do both?”

“You want to?”

“Yes.”

“Oh.” Galinda blinked, as if this was a possibility she hadn’t considered. “Oh! Alright. Sure! We can do both.”

“And this place is beautiful, I wouldn’t mind seeing more.”

Given the way Galinda beamed, Elphaba might as well have told her she was the Wizard of Oz here to grant her heart’s desire.

“In that case, wait here for a moment—I must get you a pamphlet. I memorized it so I wouldn’t have to carry it, but you may want to see for yourself. Oh! And you can choose where we go! And I’ll get us something to drink.”

Before Elphaba could protest—and she certainly wanted to, for hearing Galinda repeat whatever she'd memorized was more appealing than reading from a pamphlet—Galinda was already gone.

Mmm.

A giggle made Elphaba turn. She'd forgotten they weren’t alone.

“She seemed rather flustered, didn’t she?” Kalena asked with a smile.

“Excited,” said her wife. “You mean excited.”

“We can call it that.”

But there was something warm in their voices. Pride. Love. The kind of things Elphaba wasn’t used to hearing—not like this. The kind of things that were always reserved for her sister. It brought back that gentle jealousy, and it took effort to shove it away.

“You seem to enjoy this place too,” Iliana said. “And you seem so studious. I imagine this is what you got up to in Munchkinland? Visiting museums and such?”

“Well—not often. I wasn’t really allowed.”

She frowned. “Allowed?”

“My father didn’t like it when I made myself seen around Nest Hardings.” Elphaba shrugged, though sweat prickled down the back of her neck. Why was she talking about this? And Galinda’s mothers seemed entirely too keen on listening—they looked just like Galinda had, when Elphaba told her about her own mother. 

“Oh, honey,” Iliana said. “Well, you don’t have to worry about that here.”

“If there’s one thing we do in this city,” Kalena added, “it’s make ourselves seen. Believe me.”

Elphaba smiled faintly. “I tend to get the wrong types of attention. Although—” She tilted her head, remembering how much things had changed at Shiz once Galinda had so publicly befriended her. The wary glances had lessened, the sneers had dwindled. “It’s been slightly different lately.”

“We’ve heard about that!” Kalena said excitedly. “Yes, yes. Galinda’s got a knack for ensuring the right kind of attention follows where she goes, doesn’t she? In no time you’ll feel as if you belong here too, and that’s because you do.”

The warmth in her tone caught Elphaba off guard. She wasn’t sure what to say to that—not used to the idea of belonging anywhere, let alone having someone insist on it for her.

She cleared her throat, eager to change the subject. “Galinda knows a great deal about this place.”

“She’s always loved it,” Kalena replied, still smiling. “She used to quiz us about the column capitals when she was little. Each has a different style, or something.”

“Oh, yes! She did. She would tell us we ought to know about these things, so we could appreciate it properly when she built her own.”

Elphaba laughed fully, absolutely adoring the mental image.

Galinda returned shortly after, balancing an impressive number of disposable cups in her arms, along with the prized pamphlet. “Pertha grapes, Elphie, you simply must, they're beyond. Hold on a moment, I could tell you were talking about me just now. What was it? I demand to know.”

“Nothing,” Elphaba said. “I was just hearing about how you planned to build your own museum.”

Galinda stopped mid-motion as she passed the cups. “Ah, that. I was six, Elphie, you cannot hold me to the architectural dreams of a child.”

“So you’re not going to build a museum?”

“Well—” Galinda pursed her lips. “I suppose I could. I’d make a lovely one, too. Grand, but elegant—nothing gaudy, of course. Arches for days, a central courtyard filled with gardens and fountains—oh! And a rooftop terrace for stargazing.”

Kalena chimed in fondly, “And the column capitals?”

“My signature masterpieces, of course. Or they will be be as soon as I draw them up.” 

Elphaba watched her closely, suppressing the smile that tugged at her lips. “So you have thought about this.”

“Alright, fine. Perhaps the dreams of a six-year-old aren’t so outdated after all.”

Iliana turned to Elphaba, grinning. “You should have seen her at that age. Pencils and paper everywhere. She even drew floor plans—down to the placement of every single door.”

“I still stand by those plans,” Galinda said proudly. “Though I can’t say museum planning is what I’m going to Shiz for.”

“She’ll build the next Emerald City,” Kalena whispered conspiratorially to Elphaba, but loud enough for Galinda to hear.

Galinda turned a remarkable shade of red. “Momsie!”

Elphaba laughed again. “Will you now?”

“Now, I was three when I said that,” Galinda argued. “And I have not been able to live it down ever since. For the last time, cities are not simply built out of nowhere, and much less by a single person! There’s landscaping involved, urban planning, settlements that need to be there before anything can expand, and a great number of other social and historical and geographical—you get the gist.”

“I do get the gist,” Elphaba said, amused. “Though you make it sound much less magical when you say it like that.”

“It isn’t magical,” Galinda said. “It’s a lot of work and planning—the magic will come later, if I get my way. Actual sorcery to build things, doesn’t it sound like such a good idea? It’s far too early to think about, but I’m hoping they’ll let me base my thesis on that. Did I tell you?”

“Yes,” said her mothers in unison.

“Only a couple times,” said Elphaba, at the same time.

“Careful, you may tempt her to talk about it again,” said Iliana.

Elphaba’s eyes lingered on Galinda, who was still amused but had grown a bit defensive, her arms crossed, her cheeks still pink.

Elphaba pushed her glasses up her nose. “I don’t mind. She’s very good at making you see things differently.”

Out of the corner of her eye, she caught Iliana making an expression she couldn’t quite decipher. Kalena, on the other hand, clasped her hands together in utter delight.

Galinda’s expression softened into something almost shy. “Well. Thank you, Elphie.”

The moment felt a bit too earnest all of a sudden.

Elphaba quickly looked away, focusing instead on the cup of juice in her hands, then flipping through the pamphlet as if it were the most fascinating thing she had ever seen. “Right, sure—” She cleared her throat. “Um. Where to now? Your favorite exhibit or this Parrith person?”

Thankfully, she succeeded in steering things back to normal. A first for her! She usually never recovered from awkwardness. She'd have to ponder on what she said later, to figure out where she'd gone wrong here.

“Oh, I think we’ll start with Parrith,” Galinda said. “It’s new, and exciting—I think you’ll like it. He works with natural elements—landscapes, living things—and he blends them with structure and design.”

“Nature and structure? Sounds like he’s trying to put opposites together.”

“Or make them complementary.”

They held each other’s gaze for just a second too long before Galinda looped her arm through Elphaba’s again.

“He’d agree with me about sorcery,” she said idly. “His whole philosophy is that architecture should live. It’s why he works with landscapes.”

“But if you blend actual magic with that, you may actually make living, breathing buildings. Sentient ones.”

Galinda didn’t respond. Instead, she hummed as if that was an idea she’d already considered.

From behind them, there was another giggle.

“Oh, Oz.” Elphaba laughed. “Please bring that up with Morrible next time we’re in class. I beg you.”

The museum gift shop was just as extravagant as Elphaba had expected—polished glass cases filled with delicate models and expensive trinkets, shelves lined with thick, gilded books on architecture and design, displays of fine stationery that looked too elegant to ever be written on.

Galinda was already floating between displays, fawning over a set of miniature marble columns, while her mothers examined a collection of ornate bookends shaped like famous Gillikinese landmarks.

Elphaba, unsure of what to do with herself, hovered near the doorway. She had no reason to buy anything. She never did.

“See anything you like?” Iliana’s voice came from beside her, warm and light.

Elphaba glanced at her, then back at the shelves. “I doubt anything in here is much use to me.”

“Oh we must get you something,” said Kalena. “We simply must. Anything you want. How about the bookends? They are exquisitely crafted. Or perhaps something you can wear? Look at this.” She held up a wide beret embroidered with the same patterns Elphaba had seen in the entryway’s archivolt. It was admittedly adorable, but—

“I’m not much of a beret person?”

“Of course! And neither should you want to be, with that beautiful hair. Oh, it would be simply a crime to hide it under anything, you’re very right.”

“I like hats, though,” Elphaba said easily.

“Hats!” Kalena laughed. “How very modern. I’m sure we can find a hat.”

“Well—I like a hat. A specific one.” Elphaba expected them to have no idea what she meant, which would’ve amused her greatly, but instead, both pairs of eyes lit up in recognition.

Kalena clapped delightedly. “Ah, yes! That was in the letters, too.” She turned to her wife. “Your mother’s hat, wasn’t it, dearest?”

“Mhm. Practically a family heirloom.”

“Oh, I’m sorry.” Elphaba frowned. “I didn’t know, it was just—”

“It’s perfectly fine,” Iliana reassured her. “It was made for Galinda. She used to wear it all the time when she was a child, so it’s hers to do with as she pleases—well, I suppose it was hers.”

“And now it’s yours!” Another delighted little clap. “Which makes you part of the family, naturally. Did you bring it here to Frottica? You must wear it at some point. And we do so love it that you have something of ours, Elphaba, but we really must get you something from this place too.” 

While Kalena saw about the displays again, Elphaba was rooted to her spot, the strangest buzzing filling her ears. What was that? She was part of the what? Surely she had misheard that. She’d known these women for two days.

“Something small, dearest,” Iliana said, still standing right next to Elphaba.

“Small—sure. We can work with small. A small little keepsake, just a reminder that you were here. How about this? Small enough. Simple enough.” Kalena plucked something from a nearby display and pressed it into Elphaba’s hands before she could object

Elphaba looked down. A bookmark—deep green, with gold filigree curling along the edges and the elegant patterns of the archivolt embossed all over. She ran her thumb over the surface, tracing the delicate design.

“You’re a sorcery student, you must do so much reading,” Kalena said. “And Galinda went on and on about how much time you spend in the book place. And really, a scholar shouldn’t go about dog-earing pages. Scandalous.”

There was something absurdly final about it. As if this small, simple gift was an unspoken rule now. You belong here, it seemed to say. But seriously? It was such an inconsequential gesture in the great scheme of things, but it warmed Elphaba’s chest.

Elphaba glanced up at them, strangely off-balance. “I don’t dog-ear my books, that's very scandalous indeed. But thank you for this.”

Kalena beamed. “Of course, sweetling.” 

Elphaba barely had a moment to collect herself before Galinda reappeared, practically bouncing with excitement. She was wearing one of the adorable berets. Of course she was.

“These are new, aren’t they simply divine?” Galinda inclined her head as if to show it off. The gesture was admittedly quite captivating. "And I think I’ll get the bookends, too. Elphie, what’s that?”

Ah. She was talking to Elphaba. Right. Elphaba was being talked to—she had to blink, readjust her glasses. Her face was suddenly too warm.

“Nothing much, just a new family heirloom.” Elphaba held up the bookmark. It made Galinda’s mothers laugh, but Galinda herself frowned—just slightly—before the joy of the day smoothed over her expression again.

“We should get you a shirt,” she declared.

“No shirts. I’m not a museum shirt kind of person.”

“I’m getting you a shirt.” Galinda looped her arm around Elphaba’s to pull her deeper into the shop. “Otherwise, how will you remember you came here with me? A bookmark is lovely but it’s simply not enough. Don’t argue with me on this. Look! This one’s black like everything else you wear!”

“I’m so spent, and we didn’t even get to see everything.”

“Well,” Elphaba said. “We can always come back, if you want.”

“If I want?” Galinda chuckled. “What about if you want?”

“You may not have noticed this about me, but I like museums.”

“Of course I noticed, I’m not that self-centered. But wouldn’t you want to do other things? And there are tons of other museums here in Frottica.”

“I want to see whatever you want to show me.”

“You’re simply too kind, Miss Elphaba.” She hugged Elphaba’s arm closer to herself, even rested her chin on Elphaba’s shoulder and looked at her very closely. It still amazed Elphaba, sometimes, how the two of them had gotten so dexterous at walking while Galinda was like this. They had never ever stumbled. “I'm going to start thinking you like me.”

Her hair tickled Elphaba’s neck, and she was close enough Elphaba could see the pretty curl of her lashes and the shine of her lip gloss.

“I like you quite a bit, Galinda.”

Galinda’s eyes sparkled. “You do, don’t you?”

“Of course. You’re my best friend.”

“Right.” She laughed casually, as if she had not expected anything else. “Guess I am.”

The late afternoon sun bathed the fair streets of Frottica with warm, golden light, long shadows stretching across the cobbled roads. The air smelled faintly of roasted nuts and fresh pastries from the market stalls lining the boulevard, and the steady hum of conversation and footfalls created a gentle, living backdrop.

Once again, Elphaba had to give it to this city.

She strolled next to Galinda, their pace unhurried now that her mothers had gone to see about the shop for the day—which, according to Galinda, still did not mean they were working. They’d had lunch together at a lovely little café down the street, and Elphaba could feel the pleasant, lazy weight of a good meal settling over her bones; she looked forward to going back home and resting for a bit.

Home—she meant the house. The Uplands residence. Galinda’s home. Not hers.

“You’re awfully pensive,” Galinda said, nudging her lightly with her shoulder. “You’re usually quiet, but this is not the usual Elphie kind of quiet.”

“What?”

“You know.” She shrugged. “The calculating quiet where you look like you’re thinking of a dozen clever ways to dismantle an argument. You don’t look like that now, you’re like—like when you first got here yesterday and didn’t quite know what to do with yourself.”

“You know, sometimes I miss the old Galinda who took great care in never paying any sort of attention to me. And if she did, well, it was always to argue.”

“I don’t believe that for a clock tick!” Galinda giggled. “First of all, I always, always, always paid attention to you. At all times. And secondly, I know you enjoy being under my attention—” She was right, of course, but it was too embarrassing for Elphaba to admit. “And I know you enjoy my honesty, rare as it is—”

“Rare as it is?”

“Let’s not get into that,” she said quickly. “I’d rather know what’s on your mind. You shouldn’t be brooding during such a beautiful day!”

Elphaba exhaled a small, amused breath. “It’s nothing.”

Galinda narrowed her eyes. “It’s never nothing with you. I think I know what the problem is—if it can be called a problem.”

“Enlighten me, then, since you seem to understand so much about me.” She didn’t mean this unkindly, and worried Galinda may take it the wrong way before Galinda simply grinned at her.

“You like it here,” Galinda declared, triumphant.

Elphaba scoffed. “You say that like it’s a crime.”

“No, not a crime,” Galinda said, grabbing onto Elphaba’s arm and swinging their hands as they walked. “Can I continue being my honest self, and you promise you won’t run away from me?”

“I couldn’t if I tried.” Elphaba gestured to how Galinda was clinging to her with both hands. “And even if I could, I wouldn’t want to.”

“Wonderful.” Galinda’s grin grew bigger. “Do appreciate these bouts of blunt honesty, Elphie, they are so very rare. Anyhow—it’s not a crime to like this place, of course, but I simply think you’re not quite used to it yet. Liking a place, I mean. Letting yourself like it.”

Elphaba glanced at her, unsure how to respond to that. It wasn’t untrue.

“You know my mothers adore you,” Galinda said lightly, her voice almost a hum. “I mean, of course they do, you’re very adoration-worthy.” Elphaba snorted at that, shaking her head, but Galinda continued. “And they meant what they said, about the hat and about you being part of the family.”

An odd feeling crawled up Elphaba’s spine, she didn’t recognize it, but she felt terribly vulnerable and fragile, like exposed glass. “They’ve known me for two days.”

Galinda shrugged. “They’ve known you for longer than that, Elphie, given how often I talked about you in my letters—and besides, none of that matters. They’ve decided.”

“Decided? That’s—not how families work.”

Galinda tilted her head at her, expression soft but unwavering. “It’s not how your family works.”

“What—”

“Elphie,” Galinda said, very seriously. “Since I’m being so forthright with you right now, I must tell you that a big reason why I asked you to spend the summer here was so that you wouldn’t have to spend it there. With your father, I mean.”

“Oh.” Elphaba blinked, and while her steps didn’t falter, something inside her did. “It’s not that bad,” she said, but knew she was lying. It wasn’t an intentional lie, she just didn’t know what else to say, and she very much did not want to tell the truth.

“You were planning to spend summer at Shiz,” said Galinda. “But you told me he wouldn’t have allowed you to stay there.”

“Well, that’s—”

“And, Oz, Elphie, it took Nessa to convince him to let you come here in the first place.”

“Alright, yes,” Elphaba granted. “But that’s just normal, my father always expects me to help my sister.”

“You and your sister both know she doesn’t need any help. Why is it so hard for him to understand that?”

“Because he loves her,” Elphaba said easily. “And he wants to keep her safe and happy. That's all.”

“That's all—” Galinda mused.

“We don't have to talk about my father,” Elphaba said. “Or my family at all.”

“I don't mean to upset you, Elphie, I just want you to have a pleasant time here, and I worry you won't because you won't allow yourself to.”

“It's not about allowing.” Elphaba looked down at the cobblestones below their feet—below Galinda's sparkly pink shoes and Elphaba's sensible heeled boots. “I just—don't actually know how to be here. You were right, I don't know what to do with myself. It’s all new and different. The food in my room, the welcoming, even the little gift today—”

“You don't need to 'know' how to be here,” Galinda said gently. “It’s not about knowing. I was watching you at the gift shop, and how strange it was for you—”

Elphaba made some sort of noncommittal noise, which made Galinda chuckle. 

“You’re not supposed to earn being treated with kindness, Elphie.”

Elphaba’s stomach twisted at that. “That’s all I know.”

“I know.” Galinda leaned her head against Elphaba’s shoulder with that ease of hers, their steps still so very steady and unhurried. “I wish it wasn’t so.”

“I know you do.” Elphaba lingered in the way their fingers intertwined, the way Galinda’s hand curled around her arm as if she never wanted to let her go. Elphaba was always a little in awe of her, truthfully, how someone with such a delicate and perfect veneer could have so many intricate layers underneath. Attention to detail was important in many areas, it seemed. “I keep saying thank you for inviting me here, but I really am thankful. I didn’t know that you—that you thought about my father at all.”

“How ever could I not? Elphie, at the risk of saying yet again something that might upset you—”

“I’m not upset.”

Galinda just went on, “And because I’m being so honest, I must tell you that the night of the Ozdust, when you told me that horrendibly sad story about your mother, I blamed it all on those idiotic flowers but you and I both know it wasn’t their fault and it certainly wasn’t yours. It was his.”

The fire in her words was real enough to be felt. It was warm to the point of being searing. Elphaba cleared her throat, and realized Galinda had pulled away from her just a little, just so she could stare at her, and that same fire burned in her eyes, and that one was merely warm.

The sincerity was pointed, and she spoke like she knew—like she had always known—that Elphaba carried something heavy with her, something she had long convinced herself was simply what she meant to carry.

She didn’t know what to say.

“Your father,” Galinda said, seeing that Elphaba was rendered speechless, “is a cretin and a dunce. And I don’t like him very much.”

It couldn’t be helped—Elphaba laughed.

“What? Elphie, what?”

“You don’t even know him.”

“I have no need to know him! I can still know!”

“And dunce? What a curious word choice.”

“That’s what he is!”

“Ah.” Elphaba chuckled, placing her free hand on top of Galinda’s on her arm, her heart stumbling against her ribs. “Since we’re being so honest with each other—”

Galinda’s breath very visibly caught in her chest, Elphaba felt it hitch given how close they were together, but she wasn’t sure what it meant, and Galinda didn’t rush to fill the silence as she usually did so Elphaba just kept talking.

“Why didn’t you say that when I told you about it?”

“It would’ve been too direct,” Galinda said, composing herself bit by bit. “I couldn’t. You were so—I thought you might get defensive if I brought that up.”

That whole night remained one of the oddest—and best—of Elphaba’s life. Yet when she looked back on it, she could hardly remember the moment she told Galinda about her mother. She more vividly recalled the comfort that came afterwards. That might be your secret, Elphaba, but it doesn’t make it true. And Galinda’s foolish attempts to make her feel better, which turned out not to be foolish at all, and the feeling of fingers against her cheek and a soft voice calling her beautiful—which had been Elphaba’s last straw, so to speak.

How easily that last straw could’ve come sooner. Galinda had played her cards right, she had unknowingly—or perhaps very knowingly, given that it was Galinda—played Elphaba like a fiddle. In a good way. The best way.

“I’m glad you didn’t bring it up then,” Elphaba said. “You’re right. You’re—right about everything, actually.”

“I often am, and we should all be very glad for that.”

“Yes, what would I do without your wisdom?”

Galinda flicked her head fetchingly, tossing her hair over her shoulder. “You’d be totally lost, of course.”

“Speaking of lost—” Though Elphaba knew this had nothing to do with being lost at all. “Your mother mentioned the hat you gave me was a family heirloom? Made for you?”

“Oh.” Galinda faltered for a moment, resting her head on Elphaba’s shoulder again, almost as if to hide her face. “Yes, quite so. She was teasing about the family heirloom part, but my granny made it for me a long time ago.”

Elphaba just hummed.

“What? You’re not going to ask more about it?”

“What’s there to ask?” Elphaba shrugged. “I know why you gave it to me, I know you feel sorry about it, and now I know it was more precious to you than you let on. And I know you’re glad about how things turned out. I pay attention to you too, you know.”

There was another hitch in Galinda’s breath, and she squeezed Elphaba’s arm closer to her. Always flattered—it was quite surprising that someone like Galinda still felt flattered by Elphaba’s clumsy attempts at friendship.

“You can have it back,” Elphaba said, somewhat reluctantly.

Galinda picked up on her reluctance immediately. “Absolutely not. It’s yours now.”

Elphaba hummed again, and they kept walking. The sun kept setting. Her stomach was still full and she felt content. Summer felt like summer.

“That was all rather a lot, wasn’t it?” Galinda asked eventually.

“Quite.”

Galinda sighed theatrically, extricating herself from Elphaba’s arm to spin around in front of her, walking backward with a grin. Elphaba didn’t even have time to miss the contact—and she noticed with growing surprise she would’ve missed it quite a bit—before Galinda grabbed both of her hands. 

“That is quite enough soul-searching for one afternoon. Wouldn’t you say?” She smiled so prettily. She was endearingly magnified under the afternoon sun of her home. Elphaba tried not to stare at her mouth, and failed. Her lips were just so glossy, and that dimple of hers never managed to be anything but charming. “I propose we balance it out with a pastry. Deep, emotional honesty is best followed by something splendiferously indulgent.”

Elphaba huffed, some of the tension in her chest easing. “I think you just want an excuse for more dessert.”

“Why, Elphie,” Galinda gasped. “I would never use your emotional turmoil for my own dessert-related gains. The nerve! Anyhow, how does strawberry shortcake sound?”

That night, they slept in Galinda’s room instead.

But before they slept, Elphaba took it all in.

It was painfully different from their cramped Shiz dormitory, where everything fought for space—and inevitably lost to Galinda’s infinite belongings. But at the same time the gigantic bed and the rosy drapes and the ridiculous pink nightstand lamp made Elphaba feel right at home.

And then there was the wall.

Above an expansive desk, several dozen drawings were pinned or taped in a way that was clearly very deliberate. Elphaba recognized the crisp lines and elegant handwriting as distinctly Galinda’s. She had only ever glimpsed her work in notebooks, scrawled in margins, or neatly bound in reports—never displayed like this.

“Oh, that,” Galinda said airily, going about changing for the night without a care that Elphaba was right there. That was just routine for them. “My little musings. They’re from a long time ago.”

Elphaba examined them closely but struggled to find a clear pattern beyond Galinda’s evident love for detail and sculpture. Among them, she spotted early sketches of Shiz—drawn before Galinda had ever set foot there—including a carefully mapped layout of the campus. There were also drawings of her family’s shop, and detailed notes on the devices that kept it running. Most of it went over Elphaba’s head… something about mirrors?

Looking closer, she noticed the hint of magical theory thrown here and there. That was when the patterns became clear—bridges too large, towers too high, places seemingly without doors or corridors.

“Magic is merely the mind’s attempt to wrap itself around the impossible,” Elphaba said under her breath.

Galinda poked her head out from her closet—which was a whole separate little room. “You should know I drew those before Shiz and before proper education. They’re all probably inaccurate.”

“I’m not sure that’s what I’d call them.”

“Well—” Already dressed in a soft nightgown and securing half of her hair behind her head, Galinda stepped closer again. The nightgown was sheer, and short, and Elphaba did not look at it. “See here? I wasn’t even considering foundational supports.”

“This is signed ‘Galinda, age ten.’”

“More than old enough to consider foundational supports, if you ask me. I just got carried away, no one would actually build something like this. Magic is all too rare, it’s not—”

“If only,” Elphaba interrupted, “there was someone in this room majoring in sorcery. Two someones, in fact.”

Galinda gave her a tiny smile. “After we graduate, you’ll be too busy saving the world to indulge my daydreams.”

“There’ll never be a world where I’m too busy for you. In fact, if after saving it I have no time to spend with you, then I didn’t save it the right way.”

“Ah, Elphie, there you go again saying the nicest things.” She laughed, and turned around to head to bed.

Elphaba lingered by the drawings, touched by the preciousness of Galinda’s dreams being made so quantifiable, so easily captured and displayed on a wall. There was also something rare about it—Elphaba knew not many people got to see this side of Galinda at all.

And since when did Galinda downplay herself? If this had been Shiz, if Elphaba had been someone else, she would’ve never.

It said something about her. And something about the two of them.

“You have a fascinating way of thinking about things,” Elphaba said. “You know that, right?”

There was a beat of silence, and Elphaba had to turn to see what Galinda was doing, only to find that she was staring at her very intently, one hand resting on the edge of the blanket, as if she had frozen mid-motion while climbing in.

In a desperate attempt to avoid staring at the ridiculous nightgown, Elphaba focused on the bed instead—and noticed that on the side meant for her, Galinda had already placed a pillow with a silk pillowcase that didn’t match the others.

“Tell me more,” Elphaba said. “More of the things you love.”

Galinda cleared her throat, for some reason blushing. “I could go on for hours.”

It must’ve sounded like a warning to her ears.

For Elphaba, it was nothing but an invitation.

“Lucky for us, summer is two whole months.”

Chapter Text

It’d been wishful thinking, on Elphaba’s part, to think that Galinda would wait longer than two days before truly beginning their summer vacation.

“I’m going to show you everything, Elphie! You won’t even recognize this city by the time I’m done with you.”

“If you’re going to show it to me, won’t I be able to actually recognize it?”

Galinda clung to her arm, already pulling her out the door. “Yes, that’s what I said!”

“So, which should I get?” Elphaba frowned down at the hardcovers, weighing them in her hands like a pawnbroker assessing gold, then held them up to Galinda for inspection.

Galinda looked a little funny in this place—her tailored skirt and blouse in the oranges and pinks of a sunset standing in stark contrast to the dusty old books and towering shelves. She was a streak of light cutting through the gloom, all the more so standing next to Elphaba, who was dressed in darker clothes.

Though she’d eased up on the black. Galinda had been right—it was suffocating in this heat.

“Just get both,” Galinda said boredly. “Why ever do you need to pick?”

“Look at the size of these things, I can’t fit them in my luggage, not with all the clothes you’ve made me buy since we got here.” Safe to say, Elphaba had become well acquainted with the fashion shops of Frottica, since Galinda had made it her life’s mission to introduce her to every last one.

Even the clothes she wore now—a loose navy button-up and slate skirt—were gifts from Galinda’s vacation shopping spree. Elphaba liked the skirt the best, it was straight and flowy—she usually didn’t do flowy.

“And the boots.”

“How could I forget about the boots?” Elphaba looked down at them—her brand new leather boots, laced neatly over her ankles, lined with the softest, most comfortable interior she had ever worn. “But you see my point. I can’t bring all of this back to Shiz.”

“Elphie, my dearest Elphie—” Galinda began, and Elphaba’s heart did a strange twist in her chest. “You do realize we can simply get you another valise, yes?”

“But—” Elphaba frowned. “Huh. I never thought about that.”

“Because you never picture yourself with nice things,” said Galinda, crossing her sunset-clad arms. “That’s why you have me! So get both books—Oz, get as many books as you want! Why else do you think I brought you here?”

The little bookshop was tucked into the heart of Frottica’s central train station—a station Elphaba had learned was one of Galinda’s favorite buildings, ever, on account of the domed ceiling of stained glass. Despite the rush of people just outside, the shop itself was quiet, carved away from the chaos.

Safe to say, Elphaba could have spent an entire day here and left with far too much. She was starting to understand Galinda’s love of shopping.

“Either way,” Elphaba said. “I need to start pacing myself with all these expens—”

“Pacing yourself?” Galinda’s entire face contorted into an expression of such pure, perfect bewilderment that Elphaba nearly laughed. “With expenses?”

“My money’s running out.”

It was, in Elphaba’s opinion, a perfectly reasonable thing to say. But Galinda was still gaping as if those words had never before been arranged in that particular order.

“But what are you talking about? Explain yourself this instant.”

“I don’t get a big allowance in the first place,” Elphaba explained herself. “And I only get one at all because Nessa insisted to Father—but that’s beside the point. I never spend it anyway, so I brought it all here, and well... it wasn’t much to begin with.”

If Elphaba didn’t know Galinda better, she would’ve been terrified of that glare—even during their vicious first month as roommates, Galinda had never managed to look so scathingly angry. 

Maybe Elphaba should just stop talking about her father altogether.

But then again, it was absurdly satisfying to know Galinda cared enough to get angry on her behalf, even when her father wasn’t here to bear the brunt of it. And the way her eyes darkened, sharpened, focused, was quite appealing—and made Elphaba’s skin feel inexplicably warm.

“That man—” Galinda took a deep breath to calm herself, and pinched the bridge of her nose. “I’m sorry, Elphie. I should’ve asked about this sooner, it just didn’t occur to me.”

Elphaba shrugged, rolling up her sleeves because she was really feeling too hot in this place. Must be proximity to Galinda’s barely contained ire. She was radiating it in heatwaves.

“It’s alright,” Elphaba said. “I don’t care. I can live without money at Shiz; that’s why I saved most of it. Though if I’d known how good it would feel to splurge his coin...” She trailed off, noticing Galinda was suddenly distracted. “Galinda?

Galinda’s eyes snapped back up to hers—she’d been staring at Elphaba’s newly exposed forearms, for some reason. “Yes! Right. Spending money feels good. I know that.”

“I mostly meant my father’s—”

“Forget about your dime-store lover, slimy waste of space of a father.”

“Galinda.”

“What? That belligerent pustule of malignant ooze doesn’t deserve your time or attention, and you don’t need his money at all. I’ll buy the books for you.”

“You’ll do no such thing.”

“I’ll buy the books, I’ll buy you another valise—” Her face lit up with sudden possibility. “I’ll buy you plenty of valises.”

“You really don’t have to do that.”

Galinda’s eyes sparkled. “I know, that’s what—” 

“I mean it,” Elphaba cut in, amused. 

“Elphie, dearest—” Again with that term of endearment. It made Elphaba’s stomach do strange things. “—do you really think you’re going to win this argument?”

“I have a very solid chance.”

“When do you ever win arguments?”

“Please.” Elphaba scowled. “We both know I have a better track record than you. I just don’t flaunt it.”

“Don’t be difficult, Elphie. Do you believe I’m so frivolous as to flaunt? And, on that note, do you believe me so frivolous as to throw my money at just anything?”

Elphaba arched an eyebrow. “Yes. Yes to both.”

“Well.” Galinda pursed her lips. “That’s true. But this is different! Listen, I know why you’re saying no and I promise I’m not offering because I feel sorry for you—” 

“You do feel sorry for me, though.”

“And must that always be a bad thing?” Galinda’s voice softened. “I mean, Elphie, you must admit—is it so wrong that I want you to feel better here than you did in Nest Hardings?”

The words didn’t catch Elphaba off guard—she’d been expecting something along those lines. And yet, whatever argument she’d prepared simply refused to surface.

Galinda noticed the crack in her resolve and, naturally, pounced on it. 

“Oh, Elphie,” she cooed, stepping closer. “Just imagine—new books, however many you could want, about anything you could ever dream of, and those charming little valises with wheels. And even more clothes—I haven’t even taken you to our shop yet. Trust me, these places we’ve been shopping at are lovely, but compared to ours they might as well be from the first Ozian settlement—”

Elphaba laughed. “You’re too cunning and devious.”

When Galinda looked at her then, her eyes were brimming with such unmistakable fondness that Elphaba felt unmoored. She glanced down at the hardcovers still in her hands and sighed.

“One book. That’s all.”

Galinda batted her eyelashes. “Two books?” 

“One.”

“One book and a little something extra?” 

“Galinda.”

“Galinda this, Galinda that.” She sighed theatrically, though she was still beaming. “But see? Another argument you lose.”

“You’re hard to resist.”

There was a—strange pause, and an even stranger beat as Galinda gave herself a quick shake. “How I wish that were true, Elphie.”

“What are you—?”

“So which book is it going to be?” she asked, as casually as she could, and plucked one of the hardcovers out of Elphaba’s hand. “What’s this? ‘The Image of the City’? Why, but I have a copy of this.”

“Do you? I’m not surprised.” 

“Why are you getting a book on urban planning?”

Elphaba shrugged. “You’ve got me interested in all these things. And this one talks about how people perceive their surroundings, right?”

“Oh, Elphie, don’t ask me, I’ll start lecturing.” Galinda chuckled, handing the book back. “I’d offer my copy, but it’s heavily annotated.”

Elphaba put the book back on the table where she’d found it. “Then I’d rather read your version, since you’re offering. Is it advanced reading, do you think? Would I be fine with it?”

“You?” Galinda’s eyes softened with that fondness that made Elphaba’s chest tighten. “Elphie, you’re the smartest person I know. You’ll do fine.”

The weight of Galinda’s gaze felt heavier than any book Elphaba had ever carried. She cleared her throat and turned back to the display, suddenly fascinated by the arrangement of spines before her.

“Well, that’s good to know,” she said, voice carefully even. “I’d hate to spend weeks poring over something only to end up clueless. What else would you recommend?”

That was all it took to return things to normal. Galinda’s face lit up, and she pulled Elphaba along to another section.

“If you really want to get into it, I have so many books you should read! And you must let me buy them all for you—they’re for my benefit too, you see, so you can’t possibly say no.”

“Don’t let go of my hand, Elphie. If you get lost, it’ll take ages to find you.”

“Jokes about me blending with the foliage are wholly unoriginal.”

“I wasn’t—” Galinda frowned. “I wasn’t joking about that. But, well, this place is a literal maze and people do get lost, and I very much don’t intend to lose you.” 

The hedge walls towered around them, perfectly even and manicured, at least three times their height. Paths twisted and curved unpredictably, leading to dead ends or doubling back on themselves.

“What an odd national park,” Elphaba mused.

“You’ve been in Frottica for days now, and you still haven’t figured out that everything we do is a little odd?”

“You walk as if you know where we’re going.”

“Well, I’m trying to get to—” Galinda stopped. “You know what? You should lead us through the maze this time.”

“Where were you trying to go?”

“To the center, but I know the path.”

“This place is enormous.”

“Two thousand feet overall,” Galinda said casually. “What? I used to come here a lot.”

The soft murmur of other visitors drifted through the hedges, but they hadn’t run into many people. That was interesting about their little escapades, Galinda always seemed to know the right hours to visit places to ensure they wouldn’t find themselves in a crowd.

“You liked getting lost?”

“No, it’s... I used to come here with—” The slight waver to her voice told Elphaba everything she needed to know, even if she was unaccustomed to such things.

“Aha. With your little suitors?”

“It’s a rather romantic place,” Galinda said defensively.

Elphaba, surprisingly, did not want to think of Galinda in rather romantic places with other girls. 

“So why have you brought me here?”

“Because I thought you would like it.” Galinda’s voice sounded dryer than usual. Was she that embarrassed Elphaba had pointed it out? She’d been the one to stutter over it. “Why else?” 

Elphaba tugged at her hand. “I do like it. I think it’s swell. And I’ll find the center of this thing if it matters that much to you.”

“Elphie, you’re not—”

“Going the right way? I’ll figure it out. Don’t you trust me?”

Galinda sighed, muttering under her breath, “I trust you with a lot of things. Including my life.” And even softer: “But I don’t know if I trust you to figure anything out. Honestly, Elphie.”

“What was that?”

“That you should take a left here.”

“Don’t help me.”

Galinda sighed. “Believe me—”

“What? Believe you what?”

“Never mind. I’m following.”

It took a while—a long while. Long enough that Elphaba’s palm grew warm and clammy against Galinda’s, but she didn’t want to let go and Galinda didn’t seem to mind. The sun was still high in the sky when they finally reached the center.

Surrounded by greenery stood an intricate fountain, the water cascading in delicate arcs. At its center was a bronze statue of a woman draped in a shawl of butterfly wings, a halo resting lightly above her head.

“Saint Glinda.” Elphaba read the plaque, and then couldn’t help herself… She hoped her question wouldn’t put Galinda in another mood. “You brought girls here so you could kiss them in front of your namesake?”

“She’s not quite my namesake.”

“Did it ever work?” 

“Of course. Like a charm every time.” Galinda ran a hand through her hair. “Well—except once.”

“Well, well.” Elphaba smirked. “Even Galinda Upland isn’t infallible. If you’re not too embarrassed, you can tell me about it while we try to get out of here. No chance I’ll find the exit without another hour of wandering.”

“I’m not the one who should be embarrassed,” said Galinda, very seriously. “She is.” 

Elphaba laughed. “I’ll reserve judgment until I hear the story.”

Galinda sighed. 

“Keep at it, honey,” Momsicle whispered right into Galinda’s ear. “I’m sure if you stare harder, she’ll say something.”

Galinda scowled, and turned to look at her mother. 

“Of course,” Momsicle continued, ever unhelpful, “she might not even notice you’re staring.”

Now Galinda sighed. “Believe me, she notices. She just doesn’t think much of it. Let’s not talk about this right now, she’s right there and it’s unseemly.”

Momsicle hummed, but didn’t push the subject.

On the other side of the boat, Elphaba was listening with her usual rapt interest as Momsie went on and on about something. Galinda, of course, was not paying attention to her mother—bless her—but rather to the way the city lights cast a golden shimmer on Elphaba’s skin.

She was always pretty, but the night really suited her, she seemed more at peace—the remoteness of being on a lone boat sliding down the Frottican canals helped for sure. Elphie was used to existing around people who always had an opinion about her, and she managed as well as she could, but she was visibly more relaxed when around those she trusted.

Trust, huh? The more days that passed, the more Elphaba seemed at home. Hopefully, it wasn’t just Galinda’s longing to give Elphaba a home that was making her see things, but she swore there was a difference. Elphaba laughed more, spoke more freely. Her sharp wit hadn’t dulled, just—warmed.

Galinda could see it in the way Elphaba bantered with her mothers, how she no longer hesitated before offering her opinion, how she let herself be drawn into conversation without the usual guarded edge.

It was a strange thing to witness, like watching the first hints of spring melt away the frost. Elphaba had always been brilliant, always been fierce, but there was a new kind of ease in the way she carried herself, in the way she took up space without apology.

Not that Galinda would take credit for it—Elphaba was Elphaba, after all, and she had never needed Galinda to be anything—but still, it felt significant. It felt right.

It also, unfortunately, made Elphaba utterly and ridiculously attractive. More than usual.

The new wardrobe situation wasn’t helping. Everything Elphaba had brought from Shiz was either the remnants of her uniforms or those funeral rags she wore in Munchkinland. But now? Now she was in another dark button-up with those voluminous sleeves she liked, paired with the cutest knitted vest in existence. It had patterns. Patterns.

This was all so terrible for Galinda’s health.

“And I’m sure,” Momsicle said, “that if you think about her enough, she’ll be able to hear.”

“You’re not helping,” Galinda muttered.

“Duckie, I am trying.”

“You just want to win the bet you and Momsie have going on—terribly inappropriate, by the by, to bet on your own daughter’s—”

“Forget about the bet.” Momsicle waved a hand. “This is getting absurd, Galinda. Just tell her.”

“I can’t.”

“Do you want me to tell her?”

“Absolutely not,” Galinda hissed, whipping around to glare at her—even if removing her eyes from Elphaba’s silhouette against the dim lights and shimmering canals was the single most difficult thing she had ever done. “Are you short of a marble?”

“You clearly need help—”

“I do not need help.” Galinda scoffed. “The absolute nerve of you. Besides, you’re my mother—it’d be so tremendously embarrassing. And do I look like a five-year-old who’s just learning to talk to girls? Don’t answer that, actually.”

“Why can’t you simply tell her?”

Well, Galinda had been telling her for almost as long as they had known each other, and it all flew over Elphaba’s head. But that was a can of worms she didn’t much look forward to opening with her mother. The reason why Elphaba ignored all of Galinda’s advances—well, Galinda didn’t want to think about it too much.

“Because I must be careful with Elphie,” Galinda said instead. Another of the reasons, and one equally as significant. “She isn’t like—she’s very important to me.”

Momsicle deadpanned, “I hadn’t noticed.”

Galinda groaned. “The first time I called her beautiful, she ran away. I don’t want that to happen again. I won’t be able to catch up, her legs are longer than mine—and to die for. Anyhow—” She rushed ahead before her mother could roll her eyes any harder. “She’s not used to any of this, do you understand? And it’s—she means more to me than any other girl I’ve brought home. I can’t spoil this.”

Momsicle hummed in consideration. Then: “I understand. But, honey, do you realize that if this keeps up, it’ll be your mother who gets involved, yes?”

That would be an absolute disaster. At least Momsicle was subtle, but the same could not be said for Momsie. Give her the tiniest opening, and she’d have Elphaba trapped in their living room with a color-coded diagram of Galinda’s feelings, complete with alphabetized subsections and probably a table of contents.

Getting upset at the thought would not help her case, though, so Galinda remained calm even as sirens reverberated inside her skull. “I can handle this.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes!” Galinda pushed hair out of her eyes, angrily. “Yes! Yes, I can!”

“Do say it one more time, duckie, maybe I’ll believe you.”

“You don’t possess even an iota of faith in me,” said Galinda, pressing a hand to her chest. “It hurts, Momsicle, you’re wounding me. Fatally. But, really, given that you raised me, well, it’s more like you don’t even have faith in yourself.”

Momsicle, naturally, ignored all of that. Even though Galinda was making extremely valid points. “You know, when we got your letters about you and Elphaba disliking each other, I had to convince your mother not to make her way there.”

“What? Why would she want to?”

“We raised you better than that, Galinda. You were very mean to her.”

Galinda winced. Ah, she knew this would come eventually, and yet she could not have prepared for it. 

She sighed. Momsicle wasn’t exactly glaring, but her eyes were stern.

“Listen, I apologized, and she forgave me. And now we’re—” Galinda could not say ‘best friends’ because then she would have to jump into the canal. “We’re all good. And at least I was honest in my letters! I could’ve easily lied about the whole thing.”

“That’s not the defense you think it is.”

She winced again. “I know. We don’t need to talk about this. I learned my lesson, blah, blah, blah, I’ll be a better person and a better daughter, and I’m deeply ashamed of my actions.”

It was easier to simplify the situation now, because revisiting her boorish behavior was not pleasant, and she had learned several lessons, but the thought of saying them out loud to her mother made her feel like an infant. 

“I’m just trying to understand something,” Momsicle said, once again ignoring everything Galinda had just said. 

“Mother, please drop it. What could there possibly be left to understand? You seem to know all about it, anyhow. Curse me and my fondness for talking too much about myself.”

“Why did you dislike her on sight?”

Finally, something she could answer. “Because she got into Madame Morrible’s good graces within a singular clock tick, without even being enrolled, without even trying, without any formal education in sorcery. And, of course she did, she’s absolutely brilliant, and perfectly capable, and brimming with talent. 

”But as if that wasn’t enough, she then intruded into what was supposed to be my private suite, so I had to deal with her perfect face every day. Every day! And—and she was always good at everything! Except when she wasn’t, and she tried to be and her eyes would get all sparkly and all I could think of was, oh if only she didn’t wear those annoying spectacles so I could see her better. And—”

“I think I understand.”

“Utterly, utterly childish.” Galinda fanned herself with a hand. “Even I must admit.”

“Yes, this all seems to be textbook childhood behavior,” Momsicle teased. “You’re telling me you didn’t push her in the mud at recess, too?”

“I tried to knock her over during sparring practice once.”

“Ah, yes. And she disarmed you effortlessly and knocked you over instead.”

In retrospect, Galinda should’ve left some things out of her letters.

“You see why I’m asking about this, don’t you, honey?”

“I really,” Galinda said, “really, really don’t. Other than to make me miserable, of course.”

“You weren’t honest with her back then,” Momsicle said softly. “And you aren’t being honest with her now.”

Galinda made a strained little noise of indignation. “I am merely warming up to it. I’ll be honest with her—soon. I’m just not used to…” She trailed off, embarrassed to even speak of it. There wasn’t much she couldn’t tell her mothers, but this was different. This one hurt her ego.

Momsicle knew immediately. She always did. “You’re not used to being interested in someone you couldn’t instantly charm.”

“That,” Galinda admitted, so quietly that Momsicle had to lean in to hear her. “And also not used to being charmed.”

Her mother laughed at that, but Galinda barely registered it. She was looking at Elphaba again, who was now the one leading the conversation. Her voice was too soft to carry to the back of the boat, but the lights flickered in her eyes.

“It was immediate,” Galinda whispered. “And inevitable. And fast—horrifically fast. Pathetically fast. And—oh, I don’t know. Terrible. I was fascinated from the start—there’s just nobody in the world like Elphie.”

Meanwhile, there were countless other Galindas out there. Girls with nothing better to do than participate in mean pranks. Girls with narrow views of the world.

“Why are you torturing me about this?” Galinda asked. “The teasing always happens, but this is the first time you care this much about someone I have feelings for.”

“I always care,” Momsicle said, a touch of indignation in her voice. “You’re my daughter, I always care.”

Galinda rolled her eyes. “I know, Momsicle, I know you care. But don’t think I haven’t noticed how different you’re acting this time.”

“Don’t think I haven’t noticed the same. It’s different for you, too.”

There wasn’t much Galinda could say to that. She felt as transparent as glass.

Momsicle patted her knee, and her voice grew gentle. “I like Elphaba a lot, that’s true, and I like the way she treats you, but I’m not saying any of this to torture you, despite what you may think. I just want to make sure you learned your lesson.”

“And what would that lesson be?”

“That it doesn’t pay to hide the truth.”

“I told you I’m warming up to it.”

“I know, and I won’t push you. Your mother, however—”

“Oh God.” Galinda pressed a hand over her eyes, and sighed. “Can’t you stall her?”

“I’ve been trying.”

“Try harder,” she said. “I need time, I need—”

“Finally! We’re here!” That was Momsie’s delighted, high-pitched voice. She put a hand on Elphaba’s arm—which made Elphaba glance down quickly before she relaxed—and turned around to where Galinda was sitting. “Chop chop now, you two, no more gossiping.”

“We weren’t gossiping,” Galinda said. “Were you?”

“Oh, yes,” said Momsie. “Elphaba here is an excellent listener, she didn’t interrupt me even once. You ought to take notes, Galinda.”

Well, mark Momsie down as the only person in the world Elphaba Thropp didn’t interrupt.

“I am nothing if not an excellent listener, too!” Galinda huffed. “And I don’t interrupt, it’s called active listening, Momsie, active.”

“Whatever you say, sweetling.”

Their boat ride over and paid for, Galinda took the hand Elphie was offering her to step off the boat and into the shimmering lights of Frottica’s downtown, where bustling restaurants provided wonderful seating arrangements by the water.

“I told you to blink thrice if you needed any help,” Galinda whispered to Elphaba.

Elphaba smiled at her. The sight made Galinda nearly stop breathing, but whatever. “Turns out I didn’t need any help.”

“Well, great.” Galinda took Elphaba by the arm so they could walk ahead, because frankly they hadn’t spoken much in the fifteen or so minute boat ride, and Galinda missed her terribly. “I do hope you like this place, we’ve never been.”

“Oh? And why not go to places you have?”

“Because most don’t have many good things you can eat,” Galinda said. “But I made sure this one did.”

Elphaba blinked. “That’s thoughtful of you.”

“Well you know me, I love helping oth—” 

“I mean it,” Elphaba said, cutting through Galinda’s rehearsed modesty. It didn’t seem like she minded it, but rather it seemed as if she just wanted Galinda to believe her. “Thank you.”

Galinda was taken aback by the honesty, as she usually was. “It was nothing, Elphie. Now, shall we? Dinner with my mothers—what a lark. I’m surprised you’re not bored of it yet.” They usually dined together at home, after all.

“Not at all, I love it. I never…” She trailed off, but Galinda knew all the endings to that sentence—either she never had family meals, or she never had good ones. Elphaba cleared her throat. “It’s very nice, I keep learning a lot of things.”

A spike of panic went through Galinda’s spine. Momsie wouldn’t—would she? “And what did you learn from Momsie just now?”

“The names of everyone in town, pretty much,” Elphaba said with a sly smile. “Who is having an affair with who, and who is late to pay their office fees.”

Oh thank Oz. Galinda laughed. “Keep at it, Elphie, you’ll get a taste for Gillikinese gossip soon enough.”

“This is one of my favorite places in the world,” Galinda said.

“You have a lot of those. And a lot of favorites in general.”

Galinda extended her hand to Elphaba, helping her go up the last few steps onto the terrace. “I have a favorite person, too. Do you want to know about her?”

“You’re very funny.”

“I’ll tell you anyway. For starters, she thinks I’m very funny.”

Elphaba laughed as she came to stand beside Galinda, trying not to let the words affect her too much.

A futile attempt. She had never thought she’d be someone’s favorite person.

They had taken a train to reach this place: an old apartment building with a hidden terrace at the top. Getting there meant possibly breaking in, but Galinda insisted it was worth it. Her previous academy was nearby, and she spoke fondly of friends who’d introduced her to this spot.

The terrace itself was a world apart—secluded and intimate, like a secret Galinda had kept just for herself until now. Though, clearly, it was not the safest place. 

Years of exposure had left the stone floor uneven, and moss crept between the cracks. An iron railing enclosed the space, its intricate swirls catching the moonlight, but it was so rusty it was nearly black. 

“Should we be here?” Elphaba asked.

“You can hold my hand if you’re scared.”

“We’re already holding hands.”

“Then you can just stay close to me,” Galinda said happily, pulling Elphaba towards the dubious railing. “Maybe don’t put your whole weight on it.”

“Surely there are better places to see stars—” Elphaba was forced to eat her words when she looked up at the very edge of the terrace, and saw the sky clearer than she had ever seen it before, far enough from the city lights that it felt as if the stars were close enough to touch.

She hadn’t realized it during their climb, but they were way up high, as this part of Frottica was perched at the top of a slope.

“I stand corrected.”

Galinda chuckled.

The sky stretched endlessly above them, no spires or rooftops to break the view like in the rest of Frottica—like everywhere else in Gillikin, really. Below the railing, gardens tumbled down the slope, just hints of flowering bushes and fancy hedges visible in the starlight.

Elphaba drifted to the edge, fingers wrapping around the rusty iron. She tried to take in the whole view, but her eyes kept getting pulled back to the stars.

“I haven’t been here in years,” Galinda said, pressing closer against Elphaba’s side.

“Despite safety concerns, it is quite the perfect place.”

Elphaba couldn’t see Galinda’s face, but she felt her smile in the way her voice softened. “It is, isn’t it? But it’s not the place that’s making the night perfect.” Galinda nestled her head against Elphaba’s shoulder, making sure her meaning couldn’t be missed.

“You’re right. I’d say it’s the guide.”

“Oh, hush,” Galinda said with a quiet laugh.

“What? I mean it. She brings out the best of this place—the best out of any place we go to.” 

Galinda made a soft sound in her throat that made Elphaba look down. Surprised? Or just touched? Elphaba only saw her in this odd angle, with Galinda’s head on her shoulder, illuminated by the moonlight and the shine of the stars, the escaped strands of hair from her clip turned silvery.

When Galinda let go of her hand, it was only to wrap an arm around Elphaba’s waist. Elphaba returned the gesture, drawing her closer. It was quiet up here save for the chirping of crickets and the faint rustle of the summer breeze. There was warmth between them.

Summer was not even halfway through, and yet one day it would end. One day they would return to Shiz and its complications, its secrets, its malice hidden under the polished surface. One day Elphaba would have to keep facing a world that was hostile to her, and to many others.

That day was not today.

“This is nice,” she dared to say, quietly, as if speaking too loudly would make the moment disappear.

“It is, isn’t it?” Galinda said. “We should do it more often.”

“I don’t know, it’s quite far from h—from the house.”

Galinda held her a little tighter. Her hair was soft against Elphaba’s cheek. “It’s alright if you say it.”

The night sky was as vast and daunting as the possibilities right in front of Elphaba. She wasn’t afraid of them, but she was forever cautious. 

“We should do this more often,” she said. “And I don’t mean just coming here to this place in the middle of nowhere, but I mean summer. This whole break.”

Galinda shuffled a bit to look at Elphaba. “You’d want to come here again? To Frottica?” 

Elphaba breathed in deep the scent of the night, but all she managed to smell was Galinda’s flowery perfume. “To wherever you are.”

Galinda had it. 

Between the conversation with her mother, and being halfway through the first month of summer already, and Elphaba always saying the most unbelievably romantic things without even trying—she had absolutely had it.

This morning delivered her last straw. The very last one.

Why, she opened her eyes, already yawning, when the rest of her senses woke up too and she realized Elphaba was still in bed with her—in Galinda’s bed—and she was still asleep. 

Other than their very first morning here, Elphaba was always up and about before Galinda. Disappointing, but not surprising, given how easily she woke early for their classes.

Elphie slept on her back, blissfully unaware, entirely relaxed. Back at Shiz, there had always been a small dot of tension between her brows even when she slept—not that Galinda had ever stared at her, but she hadn’t not stared at her either.

Galinda blinked away sleep and took a clock tick to convince herself this wasn’t a dream, then propped herself up on an elbow. Elphie didn’t stir. The dot of tension was gone, her face was smooth. In the light of the morning, Galinda could count those freckles of hers if she wanted to—and Oz, did she want to—but even she had to admit that might be a bit much.

All her thoughts right now were a bit much. She wanted Elphie to wake up and kiss her, she wanted Elphie to wake up and hold her, she wanted Elphie to—well. Time to put all of that aside, for her own sake. Elphie was never going to do any of those things.

Ah, there it was. The truth Galinda had been meaning to escape. Time to keep escaping it, then.

She really had it.

She could not keep living like this.

Elphie sighed in her sleep and shifted slightly. Galinda averted her eyes—staring at Elphie while she woke up would also be a bit much.

“Hey,” Elphaba mumbled, rubbing her eyes. “Good morning.”

“Good morning.” Galinda bit her tongue to keep from replacing those words with a desperate and effusive love confession. Ambushing Elphie was a bad idea; she had to ease into it. “Surprised to see you’re still here.”

“I’m surprised too.” It didn’t help that Elphaba’s sleepy voice was the absolutely most adorable thing Galinda had ever heard in her life. 

“Are you tired?”

“A little.”

“Of course, we’ve been all over,” Galinda murmured, sinking back into her pillows. Her shoulder pressed against Elphaba’s, and the contact sent tingles across her skin. “We should sleep some more.”

Wait, hadn’t she been planning to ease into telling the truth? She could hardly do that if they were asleep. Though she had, perhaps once or twice, prayed that Elphaba might have some revelatory dream about her. Maybe even dream of their wedding—surely the sight of Galinda in a wedding gown, real or imagined, would make her fall in love.

But no such luck yet, clearly.

Maybe Galinda should study more on inducing dreams via sorcery. For academic purposes, of course.

“We’ll miss breakfast with your mothers.”

“They’ll survive.”

Elphaba laughed and shifted closer, her face turned toward Galinda. Her scarf still sat perfectly on her head—Galinda knew Elphaba barely moved when she slept—and her eyes always looked a little smaller without her spectacles.

Galinda wanted to tell her how pretty she was, but she was afraid Elphaba would then hurry to start the morning. 

Galinda wanted to tell her so very many things, and she had no idea how to go about any of them. It was unthinkable, really—she, Galinda Upland of the Upper Uplands, had been born with enough charm to wrap the whole of Oz around her little finger, yet here she was, completely lost before the only girl who seemed immune to it all.

But not knowing how to do something had never stopped Galinda before. She always got her way, and this wasn’t going to be any different. To hell with easing into it.

“Elphie, I have to tell you something.”

Elphaba’s eyebrows arched slightly. This close, Galinda was attuned to every detail of her face—the entrancing green of her eyes, her long dark lashes, those stupid freckles, that infuriatingly kissable mouth.

“Something to tell me? This early on?”

“Yes.”

“What is it?”

“I’m in—”

There was a knock on the door.

“Yoo hoo, girls!” That was Momsie’s voice, too chirpy in the mornings as always. “You’ll miss breakfast! Get your pretty selves downstairs right this instant!”

“Told you,” Elphie whispered, already pushing the blankets aside, but she stopped when she noticed Galinda lying there, motionless and disbelieving, doing her best impression of a soggy toast on a pan. “Galinda?”

“I thought they were helping me.”

“What are you talking about?”

The moment was gone, disappeared, and it would never come back. There would never be another moment. 

Galinda sighed. “Never mind.”

Chapter Text

“Look at the crowd,” Galinda said, tipping her chin toward the bustle ahead. “Will you be alright?”

Elphaba squinted against the sunlight, watching bundles of people walk all over the decorated streets. Small groups clustered around market stalls, while others streamed steadily toward the music coming from the town square.

“I’ll be fine,” Elphaba said after a moment, shrugging one shoulder. “Open air helps.”

“Alright.” Galinda’s hand settled on her arm then, in that particular spot that seemed to have become hers somehow. “But if you get overwhelmed just tell me and we’ll get out of here.”

The concern was touching and sweet. Usually, Galinda carefully timed their outings to avoid crowds—though Elphaba had never explicitly mentioned her discomfort with them, but she supposed it seemed obvious. And, of course, it made sense that Galinda had noticed.

“Alright, I’ll tell you,” Elphaba said.

Galinda beamed, giving her arm the gentlest squeeze. “Then let’s go! Oh, we should start by the main square—there’s music there, and I must get you something from the flower stall, and there are these delicious honey cakes you simply must try. They have them every year.”

“So tell me something,” Elphaba said as they stepped forward into the throng. “What exactly is this thing?”

“I didn’t tell you?”

“No, you were a little too excited to be here and didn’t say a word, you just dragged me out. This is a—festival?”

“Festival, market, parade.” Galinda dodged a stream of pedestrians by pressing herself closer to Elphaba. It was too hot to be this close in the packed streets, but Elphaba’s arm instinctively curled about Galinda’s waist to keep her close and keep her steady, she didn’t want to lose her in the crowd.

“Celebrating what?”

Galinda’s face was turning pink—more than pink, really, and she was staring straight ahead with singular focus.

Elphaba leaned in a little, lowering her voice. “Did you hear me?”

Given how closely they were walking, Elphaba felt, rather than saw, the way Galinda exhaled an unsteady breath.

“Um—it’s—”

Elphaba glanced around, frowning at the crowded alleyway. “Hold on, there’s less people over there.” She guided Galinda to a quieter spot by the shade in between the streets, once again away from the crowds. “Better?”

The moment they stopped, Galinda pressed against her again—just for a second—before suddenly pulling back, fanning herself like the warmth in her cheeks was just an unfortunate weather-related issue.

“You were so concerned about me getting overwhelmed,” Elphaba said with a smile. “You should’ve been looking after yourself instead. I didn’t know you weren’t good with crowds.”

“I’m great with crowds,” said Galinda. “I can walk in a crowd for days, and I can command one, too.”

“Mhm. So what happened back there?”

“Let’s—not revisit that,” Galinda said, hastily fixing the clip in her half-updo. “As I was trying to explain before I was so rudely nearly crushed to death—thanks for the help, by the by—this is all part of the summer solstice celebrations. Isn’t it lovely?”

The streets had transformed into riots of color, crimson and gold garlands draped between balconies, flower baskets cascading from lamp posts, storefronts spilling their wares onto the cobblestones. Painted stalls offered everything from handmade jewelry to caramelized apples to delicate paper sculptures.

The music, the colors, the crowds of people—it was quite a lot. The more time Elphaba spent in Frottica, the more she realized why Galinda functioned the way she did.

“You people,” Elphaba said, amused, “always a little odd but always going all out for everything you do.”

“Of course. This happens every summer, and I’ve come here since—”

“Since you were little,” Elphaba finished with a small smile. “We’ve been going to so many places you visited when you were little. There’s a part of you everywhere in this city.”

Galinda was getting red again. They should really find something cold to drink before she overheated.

“Well, I did grow up here,” Galinda said.

“I know. It’s nice. I like knowing what you were up to.”

“Yes, you—” She cleared her throat, glancing away as if suddenly interested in the festival decorations. “You’ve said that.”

“Is it a wrong thing to say?”

“No. The opposite, in fact. I just wish—” She trailed off, her eyes fixed on the festive scene before them, her expression softening as she took in the familiar chaos.

While Galinda watched the festival she’d known all her life, Elphaba found herself watching her. Her arm still tingled where Galinda had touched her, her side warm where they’d pressed together in the crowd. She swallowed. She definitely would be needing an ice cold drink, too.

“We should get something to eat,” Galinda said finally. “And then we can—I don’t know, there’s a lot to see, isn’t there?”

“Sounds fun.” Elphaba almost didn’t recognize her own voice, it was so faint. “We celebrate the summer solstice in Munchkinland, too.”

Galinda brightened at the opening for conversation—and Elphaba realized belatedly she hadn’t continued her sentence about what she wished for. “Was it anything like this?”

“Yes. Or—I think so.” Elphaba’s smile turned wry. “I could see the parades from the terrace in my father’s study. I obviously wasn’t allowed there, but when he took Nessa to the festivities in the town, I would sneak in. I never actually—” She stopped at the concern clouding Galinda’s eyes.

Ah. Elphaba was doing it again. It wasn’t like she wanted to keep talking about her life in Munchkinland, and in fact back at Shiz she had made very pointed attempts not to talk about it after the night of the Ozdust—but things here were so different, and felt so different.

She actually liked being here in Frottica, and she liked being here with Galinda and she liked that there were no expectations of where she should be or what she should be doing. It all made her see her childhood in a stark new light. She was starting to understand what a real home should feel like.

The realization made her angry, in that familiar way that always loosened her tongue and made her talk too much. She’d been denied this her whole life.

Maybe Galinda had been right. Maybe Elphaba’s father truly was a cretin and a dunce.

“You know you can tell me these things, right?” Galinda grabbed her hand, as she so often did, and gave it a firm squeeze. The warmth of it sent a shiver up Elphaba’s arm, like her skin was dancing along to the music in the streets. “You can tell me. You don’t have to cut yourself off.”

“I just don’t like how concerned you get whenever I bring it up,” Elphaba said.

“Oh, this?” Galinda gestured to the pinched furrow between her brows. “This isn’t concern. This is me contemplating criminal activities.”

“Galinda.”

“I promise to be perfectly polite if I ever meet your father, because that’s what you would want.” She nodded solemnly. “But I can’t promise I won’t be thinking about socking him in the face the entire time.”

Elphaba laughed this time. “Galinda.”

“What? I’m not scared of him.”

“He’s the Governor of Munchkinland, you wouldn’t—”

“I so would!” Galinda nearly stomped her foot. Petulant—sort of cute. “For you, I would. If it came to that—if you wanted me to.”

“Well, thank you?” Elphaba chuckled. “But I don’t want you to do that, and I don’t want you to worry about me or feel sorry for me.”

“I can’t help but worry about you, and I can’t help feeling sorry—not for you, but because you deserve nothing but good things in life. And I mean good things as in—as in attending these festivals, going to all the parades you want and—”

“Alright.” Elphaba squeezed her hand right back. “I get what you mean.”

“But you don’t look like you believe me!”

It wasn’t like Elphaba didn’t believe she deserved good things—everyone did, in a way. Certainly, nobody deserved to be told to keep quiet and nobody deserved to feel the way her father made her feel. This was logical to Elphaba, this was reasonable, and it was a driving force for a lot of the things she did.

And yet, just a few paces away were all the good things Galinda spoke of: the laughter in the streets, the painted stalls, the simple joy of partaking. But the longing she’d had as a child—to be in the thick of it, to be part of it—was gone now.

Replaced, actually. What she wanted, more than anything else, was to be in Galinda’s company. Nothing more, nothing less.

Was that logical?

Probably not.

But she knew herself to be emotional, even when logic was concerned, otherwise she wouldn’t care as much as she did. She just had to figure out what this emotion was.

To crave Galinda’s company so much, to be so glad to spend time together, to—to stare at her as often as she did nowadays. Where was that coming from? Logic said it was natural. Galinda was kind, open, alluring, capable of saying everything Elphaba had longed to hear her whole life. The first person to truly offer friendship.

It was reasonable to grow attached, of course. But it wasn’t only that. It was something else, something just beyond her grasp, hovering at the edges of her understanding.

“I believe you,” Elphaba said, and something in her expression must have softened because Galinda’s face lit up.

“So let me give you all of it!” Her voice rose in pitch, excited, and she stepped closer under the shade of the tree. It made Elphaba feel as if they were the only two people in the world, it canceled out the voices and the music and condensed everything to this small space between them. “All the things you missed, and all the things you wanted—let me give them to you.”

Elphaba smiled at her, too, comfortable under Galinda’s attention. “You already have.”

“But we haven’t even—Elphie, the festival’s barely started—”

“I don’t mean the festival.” Elphaba laughed again, shaking her head. “Growing up in Colwen Grounds, what I wanted most was just to have someone.”

Hers had been an acutely lonely existence.

Something she never, ever would’ve admitted in the past, or under normal circumstances, but how could she hear Galinda offering all these things and do anything but tell her the truth?

Galinda opened her mouth, hesitated, and Elphaba took the moment to add, “I think you don’t realize how much you mean to me. That’s my fault, probably. I should say it more often.”

“Ah, Elphie—”

“You’re getting red again.”

“Well, don’t point it out!” Galinda pressed her hands to her cheeks, mortified. “That’s not very nice of you. Have mercy.”

“It’s the heat,” Elphaba said. “It’s quite relentless, isn’t it?”

“The heat—” Galinda did a very visible double take, as if she had expected Elphaba to say something wildly different. “The heat! Yes, absolutely. Well, it is Gillikin after all. And we do nothing in moderation, as you know. And I did warn you summer was a little too too.” She let out a high, shrill laugh, slightly out of place.

Elphaba raised an eyebrow. “Are you alright?”

“The heat you see—it’s unbearably unbearable. Come on, let’s get ourselves a cold sugary drink.”

“Sure.” Elphaba let Galinda tug her by the arm again, and though they avoided the thickest parts of the crowds and the busiest booths, the air remained heavy with summer warmth.

“And—” Galinda’s voice dropped, quiet enough that Elphaba had to lean in closer to hear. “You mean a lot to me too. More than you could possibly ever, ever know. I promise you that.”

Not long ago, Elphaba would have struggled to believe that. People like Galinda didn’t care about people like her. And if they did, it was always for the wrong reasons.

But now? Now that Galinda had brought her here, now that she so genuinely wanted to share everything, so openly delighted in their time together, so boldly offered to give Elphaba all she’d missed?

Well, now Elphaba could do nothing but believe her.

As incomprehensible as it was, Galinda liked her. After singling her out that first day, after an extremely rocky first month of hostile coexistence, and after Elphaba’s constant blunders as she learned, basically, how to be a socially functioning human being, Galinda still looked at Elphaba and liked her.

Baffling, beautiful, clever Galinda.

And maybe it was a little baffling, too, that Elphaba liked her right back. The first friend she had ever made—so different from her in every possible way.

Elphaba wouldn’t trade it for anything.

Summer felt both endless and not long enough at all.

As it turned out, summer solstice celebrations lasted more than just a day.

Just when Elphaba was ready to adopt nothing in moderation as the motto of her stay in this city, Galinda took her to something slightly more subdued. Slightly.

Their destination required a mile or two of hiking through the woods, along well-trodden paths beneath a thick canopy of trees. Elphaba never would have pegged Galinda for the hiking type, yet she remained perfectly unbothered, having chosen sturdy shoes for the occasion—though, naturally, they still had heels.

Galinda managed just fine through the uneven ground, as if she had done it countless times before—and according to her, she had. The rest of her clothes were pretty—everything Galinda owned was pretty. She wore a knee-length skirt, a white blouse with a pink ribbon at the collar, and a wide-brimmed hat to shield herself from the persistent sun.

The sun attacked them even through the foliage. Elphaba wasn’t showing nearly as much skin, her long dress swayed around her calves, her boots laced above her ankles, and her loose sleeves billowed with each step. Lo and behold, no black this time, but rather dark blue fabric patterned with lighter shades.

Galinda had fawned over her for so long Elphaba thought they would never leave the house, but the buzz of her words and the nice tingling where her hands had touched Elphaba to fix her collar had not yet left her. Perhaps they would never leave her, and Elphaba would be riding that high forever.

As they made their way through the quiet, searing woods, voices started trickling in, and the sound of running water and the sound of music—Elphaba had come to learn that Frottica was never without its musicians; they seemed to exist in every street, every square, every gathering. The beat of percussion instruments pulsed through the air, lively and insistent.

The trail opened into a wide clearing, framed by towering rock formations that looked as if they had been deliberately arranged into some massive, natural sculpture. A lake stretched before them, vast and shimmering under the sun, its far shore dissolving into a hazy blur. The running water Elphaba had heard was from little, gentle waterfalls draping over various heights along the rock face.

Galinda pulled her forward, grinning and waving to familiar faces. People dotted the shoreline—some splashing in the water, others sprawled across sun-warmed rocks. At wooden tables draped with bright mantles, groups played cards and shared drinks, their laughter mixing with the persistent music. Everyone, without exception, wore flower crowns atop their heads.

“Oh, sweetling, you made it.”

Galinda’s mothers stood by a massive basin of iced wine, refilling their cups, and wearing similarly light, flowing garments—though even from a distance, Elphaba could tell the fabric was expensive. They also had flower crowns atop their neatly styled hair.

“You’re late,” Kalena said. “And not fashionably so.”

“We’re not late,” Galinda told Kalena, kissing her on both cheeks. “This thing starts far too early and I am on vacation. You cannot expect me to rise with the sun in these circumstances.” And she greeted Iliana the same way.

“You always have an excuse,” Kalena said, with rather a lot of feeling. “Always, always an excuse for why you can’t arrive at a reasonable hour with your poor mother. If you’re so ashamed of me, just say so—Hi, Elphaba, how do you do?”

“Ashamed!?” Galinda gasped. “Don’t you start, Momsie. You know perfectly well how I adore you so.”

“But I shall forgive you,” Kalena went on, taking Elphaba’s arm in her dainty hands. “Because you brought darling Elphaba with you. Oh, don’t you look just adorable? Come, dear, let’s show you around.”

“She does look adorable,” Galinda muttered. “But what about me? What about your only daughter? Don’t I look adorable? This was just your way of manipulating me to get Elphie to yourself, wasn’t it?”

Neither of her mothers dignified her with a response, even as she trailed after them.

Elphaba glanced over her shoulder, now being gently tugged along by yet another Upland. Clearly, it ran in the family. “I think you’re also adorable.”

Galinda blinked. “O-of course you do, Elphie! Why wouldn’t you?” She tossed her hair with practiced grace, following it with the exact charming smile she was always trying to teach Elphaba to master.

Kalena led Elphaba forward with ease, weaving through the revel-goers as if this place, this gathering, belonged to her just as much as the Upland shop or the grand halls of her home. Iliana followed at a more leisurely pace, smiling fondly at the people they passed.

The introductions seemed endless. Elphaba remained polite, though by the third time she repeated her name, she began feeling a little constricted. Not that it was unpleasant, per se—the initial shock in people’s eyes faded quickly when they saw how the Uplands welcomed her. But Gillikinese were so fond of greeting with hugs, or cheek kisses, which was odd to Elphaba.

She still tried to make herself enjoy it, because most people were merely curious about how she was enjoying the summer and how she was enjoying staying with the Uplands. And no one was rude to her, which was new.

At least the setting was pleasant: cool breezes carrying the scent of water and glazed fruits, children’s laughter weaving through easy conversation.

But the fourth person—

“Ah!” The woman said with a glint in her eyes. “You’re the one Galinda writes about!”

Elphaba blinked, meanwhile right next to her she felt Galinda nearly choking with the chilled cider she was sipping.

“Yes!” Kalena said without missing a beat. “Yes, this is her. Her lovely roommate.”

“Why isn’t that delightful!”

“Momsie,” Galinda hissed after they moved on. “You can’t go around telling people who I write or don’t write about in my letters home! They’re letters home! Not submissions to open a new column in the town’s newspaper!”

“Oh Galinda, don’t give me that. She’s just a friend!”

“You incorrigible, utter gossip. Have you no shame? To be publicly displaying your daughter’s business—why, why I ought to… I don’t know, pack my bags and return to Shiz. That wasn’t very good of you, Momsie!”

“It was all rather entertaining for everyone we told,” Iliana added. Galinda cried an exasperated ‘We? Even you!?’ “I mean, honey, you must admit, the first letters start coming in and they are nothing but complaints—”

“—oh, I loathe her so. She is intruding in my private suite. She is so good at magic. She is this, she is that—”

“And then suddenly it’s all praise.”

“—oh, I rather think we are going to be very good friends. She’s so smart, and kind, and funnier than she realizes—”

“Please end this torture,” Galinda said, even the tips of her ears a bright, splotchy red. “Please, please, please. This is too much, this is simply too much for me. I cannot. To know my life’s story is now the talk of the city—Sigh.”

“Did you just say sigh out loud?” Elphaba asked with a frown.

“But was it really entertaining?” Galinda just went on. “What did people say? Were they amused? Charmed? Invested? Oh, please say invested! No, Momsie, I’m not talking to you, you’re not going to tell me the truth. I’m asking you, Momsicle—”

They had ended up sharing one of the outdoor tables as the party went on around them, Elphaba smiling so much she didn’t even realize she was doing it until her cheeks started hurting.

Galinda drilled Iliana with questions about who she’d told and, more importantly, what she’d told. There was a quality to her voice Elphaba couldn’t decipher, like she was trying to find out information underneath what Iliana was really saying, but whether her mother was delivering that information in equally mysterious ways, it was hard to say.

“You’re not bothered?” Kalena asked Elphaba under her breath.

“What? No.” Elphaba could not, for the life of her, stop smiling. “Of course not. I’m flattered. And happy, in a way, because now it makes sense why people were so welcoming.”

Kalena hummed, sipping her drink and staring out into the lake. “I do apologize for things just now, though, you were starting to look a little uncomfortable.”

“I—” She hesitated only for a moment, her ‘I wasn’t’ dying on her tongue. It wouldn’t be believed. “Was it that obvious?”

“Oh, only to a mother.” Kalena patted her arm. “You don’t have to explain, darling. Not that it makes any sense to me, but I understand not everyone is built for constant mingling.”

Elphaba let out a quiet chuckle, some of the tension leaving her shoulders. “You seem to know me quite well.”

“You were in those letters a lot.”

Elphaba laughed then.

And, for some reason, that was what made Galinda come to her feet. “The whole day you’ve been conspirating to steal Elphie from me. I shall no longer withstand that! C’mon, Elphie, we’re going to take a walk away from all this ghastly gossiping.”

“Steal her?” asked Iliana. “You just got here.”

“You can go, darling, but leave sweet Elphaba with us. Why don’t you get us more drinks?”

Galinda, honest to Oz, guffawed. “I would say ‘in your dreams,’ but not even then that would ever happen. Come, Elphie.”

“I wouldn’t think my company was so sought-after,” Elphaba said once they were away from the table.

“Of course it is,” Galinda said, returning herself to her rightful place by Elphaba’s arm. “Though I’m sorry if that was embarrassing—I didn’t know they’d be dramatizing my letters to the whole town like some theatrical production—”

“I don’t think that’s what they did.”

“It might as well have been!”

Elphaba chuckled. “I think you’re more embarrassed than I am.”

“Well, it’s—” Galinda’s eyes traced over Elphaba’s features, lingering on her face. “You look really nice today, did I tell you that?”

“I—well—” Elphaba blinked rapidly, her thoughts stumbling over themselves. Could one stutter in one’s own mind? Elphaba was finding that one could. “You—you did.”

She had taken it better earlier, because it’d been more—expected.

Galinda brushed a tiny cluster of braids behind Elphaba’s ear. “Wear your hair down more often, I like it.”

Then, as if she hadn’t just made Elphaba’s heart stutter right along with her thoughts, she tugged her along without apparent destination. Elphaba followed as if she were a puppet on a string, and Galinda her sole puppeteer. What an odd image.

“And should I wear it down just because you like it?”

“Yes,” Galinda said. “Won’t you?”

“Ah.” Self-conscious, and conscious of her own self-consciousness, Elphaba gathered her hair over her shoulder. “Yes, I probably will.”

“Look, Elphie.” They stopped where a small crowd had gathered on blankets near the lake. “Would you like one?”

Ah—so this was where all those flower crowns were coming from. Elphaba watched as they were woven together with astonishing speed, even the children deftly braiding stems and petals with practiced hands.

It reminded her of Munchkinland. She’d never attended one of these celebrations properly, but Nessa often came back from them with flowers in her hair, too—though she always took them off before sharing with Elphaba whatever sweet she’d managed to sneak past their father.

“Elphie?”

“Sorry.” Elphaba snapped out of it. “Sorry, yes, I would like one.”

“What were you thinking about?” Galinda asked idly.

“They do this in Nest Hardings, too.” Elphaba motioned toward the children as Galinda examined the crowns on display, seemingly for anyone to just—take. Huh.

It went unsaid, of course, that Elphaba had never taken part in this tradition either.

“I see.” Galinda straightened up, beaming as she plucked from the pile a bright red crown threaded with soft leaves. “How about this one?”

“Poppies,” Elphaba said, a tiny smile on the corner of her mouth. “My favorite ones.”

“So you’ve said.” Galinda stepped forward and placed the crown carefully on Elphaba’s head, making sure none of her braids caught on it. Then she stepped back, her hands lingering in the air as she assessed her work—only, she wasn’t really assessing anything at all.

She just stared at her as if she couldn’t even believe Elphaba was real.

“Galinda?”

“Yes?” she asked, breathless.

“Are you alright?” For someone who had spent her entire life in this town, she was so often out of sorts under the blistering weather.

“I’m just—perfectly fine.” Galinda’s voice was barely loud enough to carry over the music. Then, after a moment: “Now you choose one for me.”

“Easily done.” Elphaba scanned the selection and, with no deliberation, plucked up the pinkest flower crown in existence. She didn’t even bother checking if Galinda liked it—obviously she would—before placing it on her head, just as carefully as Galinda had done for her. “There.”

Galinda looked as if she wasn’t breathing, for some reason, and her throat worked up and down when Elphaba rearranged the hair falling over her face.

“Elphie, for the longest time I’ve been trying to tell you that I’m—”

“Galinda Upland! Back from university!”

The boisterous voice cut through the air just before an arm draped across Galinda’s shoulders. Its owner—a boy who seemed to materialize from nowhere—grinned down at her.

Galinda shrugged him off with practiced ease, her tone flat. “Crope, it’s been so long. How do you do?”

“Splendidly, now that you’re here.” His grin was ear-to-ear, and his brown eyes were alight with mischief. A crown of daisies perched atop his thick dark curls, which tumbled nearly to his shoulders. “How utterly rude of you, to simply hop on a boat and disappear for the better part of the year. What about education abroad is so appealing to you, mm?”

For a moment Elphaba thought Galinda might snap at him—but no, there were too many people watching. Galinda never let her temper show in public, too conscious of maintaining her carefully crafted image.

But then they locked eyes—Crope suddenly mirroring Galinda’s narrowed expression, his playfulness giving way to something serious, and Elphaba realized this dramatic pause was absolutely on purpose.

“Oh, you cad.” Galinda huffed, and then laughed. “You absolute cad.”

They embraced, Crope immediately fawning over Galinda’s hair, her clothes, her entire existence, before his attention fell to the crown atop her head.

“Why, peonies. Pink ones, too. Adorable. You do know it’s mostly brides who carry them, yes?” And then he turned to Elphaba, his grin extending even wider. “Hello, dear. Galinda, won’t you introduce us?”

Galinda was blushing again, almost matching the pale pink of the flowers in her hair. “Crope, you—” She exhaled sharply, composing herself. “Elphie, this is Crope—we grew up together, sort of. And this is Elphaba Thropp—who you’ve undoubtedly heard of, what with my mothers doing a public reading of my letters for the radio.”

Crope let out a laugh, rich and warm, from the belly. “No, I’ve not heard a word. Promise.” He turned to Elphaba with a playful bow. “Hello, Elphaba, nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you too.”

For someone who had grown up with Galinda, Crope had certainly never been mentioned before—not once. But pointing that out felt needlessly rude, so Elphaba kept her own counsel.

“My goodness, your voice is delightful,” he said. “Where are you from? I’m asking so I can go there immediately and get my hair done at the same place you do.”

Elphaba blinked. “Well, I’ve been at Shiz, so I’ve had to find a different—”

“Ah, yes, yes, Shiz. Shiz!” Crope let out another bright laugh. “But, really, it was a genuine question.”

“I’m from Munchkinland,” she said. “From Nest Hardings.”

“She’s the Governor’s daughter,” Galinda added, stepping closer and casually looping their arms together. “Never mind that the Governor is a piece of work.”

“Is that so?”

“Mhm. And she’s in Madame Morrible’s sorcery seminar.”

“A sorceress! A real one!”

Galinda stepped on his foot without even looking. “Elphie’s extremely powerful, so behave yourself lest you fancy getting turned into a poppy.”

Crope let out a strangled yelp, lifting his foot to rub it over the open sole of his shoe. “You can do that?”

“No,” Elphaba said, and took a page out of their book, adding a dramatic pause of her own before saying: “Not yet, at least.”

Crope burst into laughter again. “Oh, I like you. Galinda, how dare you keep such an enchanting creature all to yourself?”

Elphaba opened her mouth to respond—but Galinda cut in first.

“Stop trying to charm her.” She waved a hand in his direction. “And I don’t keep her to myself.”

“No?” Crope cocked his head, grinning. “Because from the way you’re clutching her like a prized doll, I’d say you do.”

Elphaba glanced down at their linked arms. Galinda’s grip had, in fact, tightened.

“I am not clutching—” Galinda started, then huffed. “Ugh, you pest! You pox! Why must you always be so vexing?”

“Because it’s fun,” Crope said cheerfully. Then, as if struck by sudden inspiration, he turned back to Elphaba. “Tell me, Elphaba, do you like dancing?”

“Well—”

“Oh, no.” Galinda’s voice pitched up, up, up. “You’re not dancing with him, Elphie, it’s not happening. Trust me, you don’t want to do that.”

“But why’s that?” Crope pouted. “You’re denying the both of us a—”

“I’m simply saving Elphie from the embarrassment of being associated with you.”

“Ah! Saving Elphie! I understand.”

“Don’t presume to understand a single thing about any of this!”

“Let’s ignore her, Elphie.” Crope turned fully to Elphaba, lifting her hand with dramatic flair and brushing the lightest of kisses over her knuckles. “You are simply a vision—”

Galinda yanked Elphaba’s arm back so quickly that Crope barely had time to let go. “Alright, enough.” She scowled at him, her cheeks pink. “Leave my Elphie alone.”

Crope blinked. Then his grin widened. “Your Elphie?”

Galinda made a strangled noise. “I meant—”

“Oh no, no, no, please don’t correct yourself,” Crope said, positively delighted. “This is the most fun I’ve had all summer.”

Elphaba, for her part, wasn’t sure whether she should be amused or mortified. There was no room for her to join this conversation—despite it being about her. And as for Galinda calling her my Elphie... well, that was surely an unfortunate slip of the tongue. Probably. But it left an odd, fuzzy feeling in her stomach. A nice feeling? A very confusing one, which she preferred not to examine too closely. She discreetly wiped the back of her hand against her skirt, though. People in this city were touchy. It was simply too much.

“Your fun is closer to nonsense, and she’s not interested,” Galinda snapped, tugging Elphaba just a little closer.

“Oh, but you know what’s actually fun? Amira is here—she’s a fortune teller,” Crope explained for Elphaba’s benefit. “She reads your future and tells you if you’ll be lucky in love soon. Maybe we should go see what fate has to say, yes?”

“Elphie and I don’t need that!” Galinda blurted.

Silence fell over them for a clock tick. Galinda, realizing what she’d just implied, turned a shade of pink so vibrant it didn’t just match the flowers in her hair—it outshone them.

Crope cackled.

“Ugh. We’re leaving.”

“Please don’t leave!” Crope called, but Galinda was already dragging Elphaba away. “Oh—are those your mothers? I must say hello! Hello, Lady Uplands! Happy Solstice to you!”

In a maneuver so swift it made Elphaba’s head spin, Galinda immediately turned them in the opposite direction, leading her away before Crope even realized they were no longer following.

“Your friend seems nice,” Elphaba tried.

“Please let’s not.”

A pause, then—

“Your Elphie?”

“I beg you to desist.”

“No, I don’t think so.” Elphaba chuckled as Galinda steered them toward a quiet table. “First, you want me to wear my hair like this just because you like it, and now I’m yours?”

“Don’t say things like that,” Galinda said. “I will faint.”

“I wasn’t the one saying them.”

Galinda laughed nervously, stubbornly refusing to look at Elphaba—no matter how much Elphaba ducked her head this way and that to catch her eyes.

“It’s alright,” Elphaba said. “It was very funny.”

“Of course you think it was funny.” Galinda sighed. “But that was not beseeming of me. I lost my temper and I—sorry, I just wasn’t expecting him to flirt with you like that. He’s not even—”

“He was—flirting with me?”

“What?” Galinda scoffed. “You’re telling me you couldn’t tell?”

“Well, no one’s ever. How would I tell?”

Elphaba was beginning to lose touch with Galinda’s dramatic pauses. She had no idea what this one meant.

“Elphie.” Galinda took a deep breath. “Yes, Crope was flirting with you. As a rule of thumb, darlingest Elphie, when someone calls you a vision—”

“I thought it was a joke,” Elphaba said simply. The last thing she wanted was for Galinda to launch into another lecture about the proper ways to flirt—one Elphaba would inevitably tune out. As if she would ever learn anything from such things. As if she would ever need such knowledge. “You know, just to get a rise out of you. Are you sure you get along?”

“We’re closer than we look.” Galinda waved a dismissive hand. “And—well, it’s complicated. He was and wasn’t joking.”

Elphaba frowned. “I beg your pardon?”

“He’s seeing someone.”

“So it was a joke.”

“No,” Galinda said. “He was serious, I could tell. And the fact that he was serious tells me he and Tibbett aren’t together anymore.”

“Oh.”

“No, don’t be sad for them, they don’t deserve it. They do this every other day, it’s a constant struggle to be their friend and I am forever grateful they stayed here to attend some fancy acting school instead of going to Shiz. Otherwise, I would’ve been saddled with their lover’s spats on a daily basis.”

Elphaba hummed, pretending she understood even a wit of what was going on. “And you’re sure you get along?” She just had to ask again.

“Have you ever visually seen me get visibly upset at someone like that before? In public?”

“Huh.” She tilted her head, thinking about it.

“My mothers don’t count. And you don’t, either.”

“Then no.”

“Well then, there you go.” Galinda sighed, extending her legs in front of her and readjusting the way her skirt fell over them. “So, yes, we’re friends, he and I. We’ve known each other since we were itty-bitty and would come here in our small clothes to join the log games.”

“The what?”

Galinda pointed toward the edge of the lake, where a group of children lined up to jump in. Round logs floated on the surface, and parents stood nearby, watching as the children climbed onto them and tried to keep their balance. Cheers rang out for whoever stayed on the longest.

The image of a little Galinda being part of all that was so adorable that Elphaba had to fight the instinct to clutch at her chest. She had to know more. “Were you very good?”

“I was excellent,” Galinda said. “I have perfect balance. In another life I was a ballerina.”

“I’ve seen you balancing on balcony railings, so I believe it. It’s funny, though, you’re still the clumsiest person I know.”

“Clumsy?”

“You’ve tripped with every piece of furniture in our dorm,” Elphaba said. “And you’re constantly dropping things—your wand or pens, most of all. I mostly notice because every single time you make such a show of picking them up.”

Galinda laughed very, very loudly. It wasn’t that funny, in Elphaba’s opinion. But she was used to Galinda laughing at most of the things she said, whether or not they were meant to be jokes.

“Ah, Elphie, you’re simply hilarious.” Her saying things like that, seemingly at random moments, wasn’t new either. “C’mon, let’s walk for a while, I’m afraid if we sit here for too long Crope will come back—or, worse, my mothers will decide to come find us.”

“And we can’t have that, of course,” Elphaba said. “Given that you want me all to yourself.”

Despite blushing, Galinda tried so very hard to seem unbothered. “I always want you all to myself, Elphie, that wasn’t a joke.”

Maybe she wasn’t trying. Maybe she was unbothered. Her voice was smooth and cool, and it got under Elphaba’s skin in the strangest of ways. She cleared her throat, and stood up to offer Galinda her hand.

“Right, well—I like spending time with you too.”

Galinda sighed. “Of course you do.”

“Why haven’t you told her?”

The question came suddenly, just as Galinda was affixing the last bobby pin to the sleeve of the jacket she was wearing. And yet, even distracted by her work, she knew what her momsie was asking.

“I’ve been trying for months!” Galinda huffed. “And given she hasn’t shown any indication of returning my affections, I’d dare say—”

Momsie fluttered about her with a measuring tape, checking all of the adjustments Galinda had pinned. “Has she noticed?”

“Has she noticed what?”

“Your intentions, sweetling.”

Galinda scoffed, mostly staring at herself in the massive mirror in front of her, given her mother was moving too much to properly hold eye contact. Galinda had a brief thought that black could absolutely be her color, if she was so inclined—but she was very much not inclined.

“I’ve not been exactly subtle.”

“We didn’t raise you to be subtle, that’s true.” Momsie chuckled, gesturing for Galinda to remove the jacket. “But I think Elphaba was raised to believe no one could ever be interested in her. Darling, it’s not enough to simply not be subtle. You must be direct, and tell her.”

“Tell her what?” Galinda stepped down from the little platform she’d been standing on, and paced around the fitting room. “Oh, Elphie, I can’t stop thinking about your beautiful smile and your impossibly adorable freckles, would you let me kiss them? And, on that note, would you like to kiss me? Because I think about kissing you constantly. Love, and very directly, Galinda.”

“Why did the monologue turn into a postcard there at the end?”

“There’s supposed to be tact involved in these things!”

Her mother didn’t look up, now seated at the little table at the end of the room, head bent low toward the fabric, her focus razor-sharp on the needle and thread. “I’d say you’ve already tried tact, and it hasn’t quite worked out for you.”

Here it was. The moment of truth. Galinda had been running from it, shoving it into the deepest corners of her mind, refusing to tell Momsicle about it, barreling past it and nearly confessing to Elphaba—twice!—but perhaps it was time to finally talk about it.

“What if…” Galinda licked her lips. “What if Elphie doesn’t like me? What if that’s why—why she’s ignored every single one of my advances?”

“Oh, sweetling,” Momsie said carefully. “I don’t think that’s the reason.”

“It could be! You don’t know Elphie. It’s perfectly plausible she just… doesn’t feel the same way and she’s trying to let me down gently.”

“Elphaba strikes me as someone more direct than that,” said Momsie, still focused on her work. “If she truly knew what you were doing, I believe she would tell you. But that girl adores you, darling, surely you must see that.”

“As a friend, perhaps.”

“No.” She shook her head firmly. “She adores you as you adore her. She does. I’m more than certain.”

“But how? How? How could you possibly be certain, Mama?”

That made her look up. Galinda realized a beat too late why—she hadn’t called her that in years and years.

Her mother’s eyes were soft. “I’ve seen the way she looks at you, darling. And I’ve heard the way she speaks to you. She hangs onto every word you say.”

“She—” Galinda sighed, rubbing her forehead. “She’s the only one who… It just feels nice when she says I’m smart, or when she wants to know more about what I think. No one ever does that.”

“I know,” said Momsie. “That’s why your mother and I like her so much.”

“Oh, yes? Is that the only reason?”

“She’s very polite,” Momsie added. “Which is a nice change from you and your blatant disrespect.”

Galinda gaped. “Disrespect!?”

”I’m only teasing.” Her mother’s smile was gentle. “But darling, of course she wants to know your thoughts, of course she thinks you’re brilliant. Haven’t you noticed how she loves to pay attention to you? That girl thinks the world of you.”

Galinda stilled, her pacing halted as her mother’s words settled over her. She blinked at her reflection—her perfectly arranged hair, her fitted ensemble, her carefully manicured expression of composure—only to realize how badly she wanted just one particular person to care about it.

“Elphie is going to do a great many things in life,” Galinda said quietly. “She’s exceptional, and she’s special. But, at the end of the day, I’m the only friend she’s ever had so what if—what if what you’re picking up on is just that?”

“You’re never going to know unless you tell her.”

It was the most expected response, to receive an answer but not to the question she was asking.

“Galinda, sweetling,” her mother said. “Elphaba may be exceptional and special and all those things—”

“Not may be. She is.”

“Don’t interrupt me, young lady.”

Galinda stiffened. “Sorry.”

“You think very highly of her, highly enough you don’t believe she could love you back.”

“That’s not—” Galinda snapped her mouth shut at the second glare she received.

“I think that’s why you haven’t fully told her, why you’re dancing around it—”

“Well, no,” Galinda said. “And I’m sorry to interrupt again—but I do believe I am well within my rights, actually! I just remembered!”

“What in Oz’s name are you talking about?”

Galinda pointed a finger at her. “Because I was going to tell her a couple of days ago, and you knocked on the door and interrupted me!”

“I did?” Momsie frowned. “Well, if it was a couple of days ago, you’ve had plenty of time to try again, haven’t you?”

“Well, I—” Galinda sputtered. “Yes, that’s so, and I did try, and—”

“You’re making excuses. Do you think I don’t know you? You’re waiting to be sure before you take the risk, but darling, things don’t always work that way. We won’t always have all the answers before we have to do something scary.”

“But it’s not that!” Galinda argued. “I just—think it would be very nice if she—if I had an inkling— because she surely has noticed that I’m desperately in love—”

“Sweetling, the two of you are speaking entirely different languages. I don’t think she’s noticed anything.”

Galinda groaned and dropped onto the settee beside the work table, while her mother returned to sewing. “I’ve never had these problems before.”

“You’ve also never cared about someone the way you care about Elphaba.”

“Stop knowing me so well,” Galinda said. “It’s unsettling.”

Momsie laughed. “You’re my daughter. Of course I know you, sweetheart. I don’t know Elphaba nearly as well, but I can still see she’s doing the same thing you are, in a way.”

“How do you mean?”

“She thinks highly of you,” Momsie said. “Way too highly. You don’t believe she can love you back, but she doesn’t believe you can love her at all.”

“I don’t think that’s true.”

Her mother glanced at her. “You found her wandering about in the dark when you two first got here. What’s to say she wasn’t losing sleep over you, too?”

“Momsie,” Galinda hissed. “Do not bring that up, I told you that in confidence! Will you ever stop with the gossiping habit!?”

“There’s no one else here.” Her mother chuckled. “If you want my advice—”

“I don’t, but you’re going to hand it out anyway.”

Distractedly, her mother patted her knee, her voice impossibly sweet with sincerity. “You don’t have to monologue her or send her a postcard. You don’t even have to find the perfect words. Just be brave enough to tell her the truth.”

Galinda pursed her lips. Brave? She wasn’t sure she’d ever been brave before—not the way Elphaba was. She wasn’t sure she even knew how to be.

She thought of the Ozdust, but that hadn’t been bravery fueling her, just a deep need to right her wrongs, a strange compulsion to apologize, to actually do something good, to connect, to be seen. Elphaba had been brave that night. Galinda had just been trying to fix something she herself had broken.

But maybe there was still bravery in that—Galinda had never tried to right her wrongs before, after all.

Maybe bravery wasn’t always so grand, like Elphaba’s was. Maybe it wasn’t sweeping gestures or bold declarations. Maybe it was small moments where you chose not to run.

“You always told me I could get whatever my heart desired,” Galinda said softly.

“Yes, darling. That’s because you can.”

“Even Elphie?”

Her mother looked at her again, a small smile on her lips. “Even her.”

“Good—” Galinda exhaled, smoothing out nonexistent wrinkles on her skirt. “Should I wait till the end of the month, though?”

“What? Why?”

“So you win the bet.”

Momsie laughed so hard she nearly pinched herself with the needle. Then she leaned forward, pressing a gentle kiss to Galinda’s head. “I’d happily lose this one.”

Chapter Text

Almost a month in the Upland’s house had already left Elphaba with an insatiable hunger.

Hunger for more.

She spent her afternoons with Galinda, visiting favorite spots throughout the city—taking trains, walking for hours under the summer sun, lunching in picturesque cafés. Arm in arm, hand in hand, slipping into hidden nooks and crannies where they could get lost in each other’s company.

Somehow, Elphaba never tired. She woke up thinking about what they would do, what they would see, what new delight Galinda would share with her. She woke from dreams of the gleam in Galinda’s eyes when she was excited about something, as if the world itself unfolded just for her.

Some days, they stayed home. They walked the gardens sometimes, but mostly, they lounged.

A very common summer vacation activity—one Elphaba had never indulged in. Back in Nest Hardings, there was always something to be done, and she mostly had to make herself useful.

“Wait, do that again,” Galinda murmured sleepily.

“What?”

“Use your nails again.”

Elphaba hummed, dragging her nails gently over Galinda’s scalp once more.

Galinda stretched placidly on the couch, head pillowed in Elphaba’s lap, her book now forgotten as she closed her eyes and said, “That feels nice.”

“Are you going to fall asleep on me?”

She chuckled. “I might. Would you mind?”

“No.”

Galinda cracked an eye open, peering up at her. “But you’ll be uncomfortable just sitting like that.”

“I’ll survive.”

“Lay back.”

“Huh?”

“Against the armrest. Lay back.”

They shuffled together, Elphaba awkwardly trying to maneuver her limbs without displacing Galinda entirely. She didn’t understand the purpose until—

Galinda crawled on top of her, still sleepy enough to be clumsy, her knee pressing uncomfortably against Elphaba’s for a moment, her hands fumbling for purchase on the cushions, until eventually she settled with her head on Elphaba’s chest.

A beat of silence followed. The curtains fluttered with the breeze from the open windows, sunlight poured lazily across the room. The distant sound of birdsong, the occasional passing carriage outside.

Elphaba’s mouth went dry. Her heart—her heart was going to punch its way out of her rib cage. What fitting words, she thought idly. A cage for a heart that suddenly had wings.

“Keep going, Elphie,” Galinda mumbled. “I like it when you play with my hair.”

Well, Elphaba was used to making herself useful.

Tentatively, she ran a hand through Galinda’s soft hair, nails tracing lightly over the curve of her head.

Because of how they were lying together, she felt Galinda’s shiver as if it were her own, the weight of her body wonderfully pressing Elphaba into the plush cushions, a most delightful contrast. When Galinda sighed, the warm breath fanned against Elphaba’s neck.

It brought that hunger back—the hunger for more.

More days like this. More hours tangled together, drowsy and content. More lazy afternoons. More of this whirlwind summer.

How was it possible, she wondered, to spend nearly every waking moment with Galinda—and most sleeping ones, too—and still crave more?

They talked about everything and nothing, well into the night sometimes, never running out of things to say. Elphaba dreaded to think they ever would. She wanted to know every thought that passed through Galinda’s mind—the important ones, the fleeting ones, the silly ones that made no sense but charmed her nonetheless. And she wanted to share her own in return, because she had never had anyone who listened with such genuine attention.

And being in this house was—nice. Too nice. Galinda’s mothers were attentive and affectionate, and Elphaba found she didn’t mind at all.

It was another kind of hunger, the kind that tightened her chest in a way both unfamiliar and addictive. The feeling of being included in a conversation, in a plan. Of being drawn into their teasing as if they’d known her forever. Of hearing them recall some tiny, inconsequential detail about her, simply because they cared enough to remember.

In her sleep, Galinda nuzzled closer to Elphaba.

And for the first time in her life, Elphaba wished for so very many things.

But wishing only ever wounded the heart.

Elphaba had never belonged anywhere. She’d spent her life as an outsider, even in her own family. She’d learned to stand apart, to observe rather than participate.

Now, these people—these warm, caring, wonderful people—had opened their home to her. And she desperately wanted to stay.

But what if she couldn’t? What if one day she said the wrong thing, or showed too much of her sharp edges, and they realized she wasn’t worth the trouble? She had spent so long being unwanted that she wasn’t sure she knew how to be wanted.

She didn’t know how to fit into a family that wasn’t obligated to keep her.

As Galinda shifted in her sleep, Elphaba glanced down at her—golden hair spilling across her chest, face serene in slumber. She smelled of flowers and simpler things. Her hand moved unconsciously, seeking until it found Elphaba’s, their fingers intertwining naturally. Without thinking, Elphaba pressed her lips to the top of Galinda’s head.

Did Elphaba have to know how to belong at all? Could one ever truly know?

And, more importantly, could she not simply learn?

“I beg your pardon.”

“Elphaba! Wait a moment, don’t leave.”

Elphaba hesitated in the doorway of the main living room, a space she had grown accustomed to claiming for herself in the quiet hours before breakfast. It was the perfect time to get some puzzles done without disturbing Galinda’s precious sleep.

But today, for the first time, someone else was here.

“Sorry,” Elphaba said. “I didn’t mean to intrude.”

Iliana smiled warmly from her seat on the sofa, a cup of tea cradled in her hands. A kettle rested on the tray before her, alongside scattered newspaper sheets and a small stack of books.

“Nonsense, this is your house too,” she said. “Come in, sit, read. Please, don’t let me stop you. And help yourself to some tea if you’d like.”

Elphaba hesitated, glancing at the sofa—too close. The armchair by the window? More space, better light, but would that seem distant or cold?

Ridiculous. It was just a seat. Why was she overthinking?

She settled for the settee across from Iliana—a compromise.

As Iliana’s words rang out—this is your house too—Elphaba forgot to open her puzzle book. Her house? Awfully nice of her to say, but surely just a platitude?

She shook the thought away and tried to focus on her book. For a while, the only sounds were the quiet rustle of turning pages, the scratch of Elphaba’s pen, and the soft clink of a teaspoon.

“Galinda speaks of you often,” Iliana said at last.

Elphaba looked up sharply, crossword entirely forgotten. “She does?”

Iliana’s smile deepened, as if she found Elphaba’s surprise endearing. “Yes. Does that shock you? You know how often she wrote about you. We were so thrilled when she said she was bringing you here for the summer.”

Elphaba forced herself not to tap her pen against the book. “I hope I’ve lived up to expectations.”

“I’d say you’ve surpassed them, honey.”

Should she ask? She wanted so badly to ask. But should she?

To hell with it. “I know she wrote about me often, but… what did she say, exactly?”

Thankfully, Iliana didn’t seem to find the question odd. “Oh, you know. That you’re ‘the smartest person she knows’ or how you ‘challenge her to think differently.’” Iliana smiled behind her cup, as if privy to a secret Elphaba wasn’t. “She admires you a great deal.”

With Galinda’s tendency to carelessly shower her with affection, this shouldn’t have been surprising—yet it was.

Elphaba fidgeted with the edges of her book, letting this warmth settle over her. No one had ever admired her before, but then again, she’d never had a friend before. But that wasn’t quite it, was it? The meaning didn’t come from it being the first time—that was merely a bonus. It mattered because it was Galinda.

How lucky was Elphaba.

Mistaking her silence for something else, Iliana continued, “It’s good that you two ended up getting along so well.”

“Oh, yes,” Elphaba said. “It felt inevitable that we would, even after all that—”

“Loathing?” Iliana’s eyes crinkled with amusement.

Elphaba chuckled. “Yes, even after that.”

“Felt inevitable, you said?”

Elphaba hesitated, unsure if she should be discussing this with Galinda’s mother of all people. But Iliana was comforting, and she was nice, and invited confidence.

“Well,” Elphaba said slowly, “Galinda’s too smart about too many things, and she makes everything look effortless—I was envious of how easily she fit in. But it wasn’t anything deeper than that. She made fun of me, and yet it was… different.”

“How different?”

“She was envious of me too, I think. It wasn’t about—” She gestured vaguely at herself. “It’s never happened to me before. Someone disliking me for other reasons, I mean. And once that was gone, getting along with her was so natural. I do admire her, too.”

And she called me beautiful, she wanted to add, but didn’t. And I almost believed her.

“Yes, I can tell,” said Iliana. “The—”

“You can?”

Iliana gave her a knowing smile. “Elphaba, I’m sorry to say, but it rather shows .”

“Well, that’s good. Though I doubt she’ll do much with that, everyone admires her.”

“Mhm, sure. Galinda has always been surrounded by people, but not all company is meaningful. You said she makes everything look easy, but that’s not quite right. She—”

“I know,” Elphaba cut in. “I know she works incredibly hard. Two majors alone are a challenge, and one of them is sorcery? That requires immense focus. Not to mention the coursework—alchemy, history, spell theory—and Madame Morrible is so demanderating. I know how much effort Galinda puts into everything she wants. She surprises people.”

Or she would—if she ever let on how much effort it all took.

“Yet you don’t seem surprised,” Iliana said, amused.

“Not anymore.”

“Well, that must mean a great deal to her. And to her mother, it means everything that someone is looking out for her.”

Elphaba frowned. “I’m not—I don’t—she doesn’t need looking after.”

“No, I suppose not.” Something unreadable flickered in Iliana’s eyes. “But she does value someone who takes her seriously. And someone willing to argue with her, I’m sure.”

“We don’t argue all that much anymore,” Elphaba admitted. “Though, when we do, winning those arguments is surely her favorite pastime.”

“You’re rather fond of her, aren’t you?”

The question caught Elphaba off guard. “Fond?”

“Yes.” Iliana tilted her head, her curiosity casual yet intent. “You enjoy her company, yes?”

“Of course,” Elphaba said, confused by the keen look in Iliana’s eyes. “She’s my best friend.”

That keen look vanished as soon as it appeared. “I see.”

Elphaba frowned, a vague unease creeping in. She felt as though she’d somehow stumbled into an invisible trap. “What is it?”

“Nothing at all,” Iliana replied lightly. “It’s reassuring to hear. Galinda often worries she might be too much—too excitable, too demanding.”

Elphaba snorted. “She is demanding. I care for her either way.”

The keen look returned, sharper than before. Elphaba felt awfully scrutinized.

Iliana took a slow sip of her tea, gaze warm yet far too observant. “I see,” she said again.

“Can I ask something—slightly related?”

“Anything. Are you sure you don’t want tea?”

Elphaba had been too nervous to serve herself earlier, but now she was more relaxed and poured herself a cup. It was a nice, herbal blend. Very savory.

“You’re a sorceress, too.”

“Ah, you noticed?” Iliana teased. “I’m flattered the ‘strongest sorceress of our time’ could tell right when we first met.”

“That’s just what Galinda calls me, but it doesn’t mean it’s true,” Elphaba muttered, then added more clearly, “In truth, magic has always been a struggle for me. It just takes over me sometimes and when it does—bad things happen.”

“Bad things?”

Elphaba traced the rim of her teacup, and tried not to wince. “Usually, I make things explode.”

“Oh.” Iliana didn’t even blink. “We all struggle with magic in different ways, Elphaba. It’s perfectly natural.”

“And yet no one else seems to have this much trouble keeping it under control. For me, it’s always been tied to my emotions. My... anger, mostly.”

“Are you angry often?”

“Yes,” she said simply.

“Really? I wouldn’t have guessed.”

Elphaba smiled faintly. “Yes, that’s the point.”

“What does Madame Morrible say?”

“She believes in me,” Elphaba said, hesitating. “And she says I must harness my emotions. I’m just not sure how. Especially with anger—it seems counterproductive. Shouldn’t I practice calm instead?”

“Do you believe you know better than Madame Morrible?”

Elphaba blinked. “Of course not, I wouldn’t even—”

“I’m teasing, honey.” Iliana laughed. “But look, Elphaba, you have a good heart in there, and for people like you anger doesn’t come without a reason. Your anger is a gift, and a prompt. It shows you where things have gone wrong, where action must be taken. It most certainly doesn’t have to be a bad thing.”

Elphaba’s gaze softened. “That’s... remarkable advice. Thank you. I never considered it that way.”

“I assume because no one taught you to see it as anything but something to contain.” Iliana shook her head. “But sorcery allows for other outlooks.”

“No offense, Mrs. Up—”

“Don’t you dare.”

“Miss Iliana?”

“Progress, and makes me sound less old. Go on.”

“No offense, but—I find it difficult to believe you’re primarily a... dressmaker?”

“Only in my spare time, honey.” Iliana laughed again—a warm, melodic sound, so comfortable with itself that it reminded Elphaba of Galinda. “I talk to a lot of people every day. You wouldn’t believe how easily they open up when you’re helping with how they present themselves. I have stories for days. It helps me see countless perspectives.”

Now, Elphaba wouldn’t say she had been avoiding Galinda’s parents on purpose, but it was telling that this was the first time in almost a month she was completely alone with one of them.

The truth was—hearing such things was hard.

Where had all these different perspectives been in her home? With her family?

Elphaba could hear her father’s voice, a distant phantom of memory: And what, precisely, is so hard about your life? You’re lucky to even be here.

“Are you the reason Galinda wants to be a sorceress?” Elphaba asked to push those thoughts away.

“Yes and no.” Iliana shrugged. “I had my influence, certainly, but she’s always been her own agent, even as a baby. At one year old, she was already refusing to be fed because she wanted to do it herself. There were countless messes to clean up, let me tell you. Oh! I should find the baby pictures!”

Elphaba smiled, though the pain was still there. She couldn’t imagine her father speaking of her so fondly. Perhaps Dulcibear might, if anyone ever bothered to ask about Elphaba—which, of course, no one ever did.

“Every story you tell me is better than the last,” Elphaba said. “I think I would enjoy the—”

“Now what’s all the giggling in here?”

Galinda’s voice rang through the room as she strolled in, rubbing her eyes. She had thrown a sheer robe over her equally sheer nightgown—which defeated the purpose of wearing anything at all, but Elphaba wasn’t thinking about that.

“You better not be talking about me again, Momsicle, I swear—Oh, Elphie. It’s you.”

“Good morning,” Elphaba said. “We were talking about you.”

“I was about to show Elphaba your baby photos.”

“Oh.” Galinda blinked, then relaxed. “Oh, you should. I was an adorable baby, Elphie, you’ll fall in love. Where are they? I’ll get them myself. You should see the one with the chalks, it’s the cutest thing and it’ll melt your heart.”

She was already fluttering about, rummaging through a set of drawers. Her mother watched with amusement, pouring Galinda a cup of tea.

Elphaba, for some reason, was stuck on something else.

You’ll fall in love.

“It’ll happen tonight!” Galinda declared, bursting into her mother’s chambers as they were getting ready for their evening.

“Seriously?” Momsicle asked, in the middle of fastening a diamond earring.

“Seriously.”

Momsie stood by the full-length mirror, comparing different heels with her sequined trousers. “And you came to this decision because—?”

“Because of what we talked about,” Galinda said, flopping onto the edge of their bed. “And go with the white ones.”

“That’s what I said too.”

“You’re both very wise women,” said Momsie, kicking off the gold heel. “And I’m glad you’re doing this, darling.”

“It’s about time,” Momsicle added.

“Yes, well—” Galinda blushed. “One mustn’t rush these things! Love unfolds at its own pace. Now, I’m telling you so you two behave while we’re out tonight. No giggling, no whispering, no looking at us like we’ve sprouted extra heads. And under no circumstances are you to bring up my letters again! I don’t want Elphie to feel uncomfortable.”

Momsicle snorted. “Can’t imagine what could possibly make her uncomfortable if you’re about to confess your feelings with your mothers there to see.”

“I am not doing it in front of you!” Galinda pointedly ignored the laughter from her other heathen of a mother. “I’ll do it afterward—when I take her on a walk. Please, woman, some common sense.”

“Oh, by the promenade?”

“And the canals?”

“Yes and yes.”

Momsie sighed. “So cute, so romantic. Maybe you do know what you’re doing, sweetheart.”

“Does she?”

“I do!” Galinda sat herself at the foot of their bed, catching their eyes in the mirror. “It’s just been so difficult lately! Every time I try to tell her, something interrupts me. So this time, I’m making sure there are no distractions and I’ll take her somewhere nice, just the two of us. Wouldn’t you know, there are ways to be direct and orchestrate the perfect romantic confession.”

“When you get married,” Momsie said idly, still adjusting her shoes, “I’ll be the one walking her down the aisle.”

“What?” Momsicle frowned. “Why you?”

“Because I called it first.”

“That’s not fair.”

“I am simply drowning in your support,” Galinda said flatly. “My own mothers would prefer to walk my bride down the aisle instead of me.”

“Not any bride,” Momsie corrected. “Just her.”

“Quite. Galinda, don’t even think of messing this up.”

Galinda huffed. “I remember you being significantly more encouraging just days ago.”

Momsicle turned, hands clasped politely before her. She hadn’t styled her hair yet, but was already dressed in a sleek black gown for the evening.

“Duckie,” she began solemnly. “We are at the end of our ropes here.”

“How do you think I feel!?” Galinda shot to her feet, and began pacing. “This is just such a delicate subject, you wouldn’t understand! One can’t simply spring these things on Elphie, she’ll get startled. Not to mention she considers me her first friend. It’s disastrous! Utterly terrible! I’ll be ruining her first friendship and wrecking her first experience of friendship by coming onto her and—and—and I don’t know!”

Momsicle raised an eyebrow. “So you’re not going to tell her?”

Galinda paused. “Of course I am. Aren’t you following along?”

“Let’s have breakfast somewhere special tomorrow,” Momsie suggested, turning from the mirror. “That place on Highland Street? With the gondolas?”

“What?” Galinda blinked, momentarily derailed.

“Oh, yes!” Momsicle exclaimed. “Brilliant idea, dearest. It’s lovely there.”

“What are you talking about!?”

“Well,” said Momsie, selecting a necklace from her jewelry box, “if things go well for you tonight—”

“Which they will,” added Momsicle.

Momsie nodded. “Yes, yes, of course they will. Then tomorrow, we can all have a wonderful time together. And if they go poorly—”

“Which they won’t,” Momsicle said.

“Which they won’t,” Momsie agreed. “Then your mother and I have a date, so we’re out of the house and needn’t deal with the awkwardness.”

“You know,” Galinda said tightly. “I liked you better when I was talking to you separately.”

But as Momsie approached to give her a noisy kiss on the cheek, Galinda understood they were simply trying to ease her nerves.

“Darling girl,” Momsie said, tucking a strand of Galinda’s hair behind her ear. “Our family is the best thing this town has ever produced, and you are our beating heart. There’s nothing you can’t do, and nothing you can’t handle. You’ll be fine. You hear me? And we’ll be right here no matter what happens.”

Galinda exhaled slowly and nodded, feeling as though she were embarking toward a new world, watching her parents wave as her boat drifted from shore. Though the situations were hardly equivalent, she felt equally supported and loved.

“Right,” she said. “Right. Right. Yes. Of course. I’ll be fine and everything will be fine—and I know what I’m doing. Alright! And, for Oz’s sake, it’s just a girl. There is no reason to be this dramatic! Yes. Thank you. Now goodbye! I must get ready too.”

“Wear something nice,” Momsicle called after her.

“You know she’ll wear whatever is Elphaba’s favorite color—” Momsie’s voice trailed behind her.

Galinda left the giggles behind, but carried their warmth with her.

“You’ll wear something nice tonight,” Galinda said, with all the authority of someone codifying words into law.

Elphaba didn’t look up from her book. “How nice is nice? Formal? I don’t own many formal things.”

“I brought you clothes from the shop,” said Galinda.

“You did? Won’t that cut into your profit?”

“What? Elphie, we’re rich, no it won’t. Would you look at me?”

Galinda threw herself onto the bed, crawling across until she was practically draped over Elphaba, pushing the book down with a dainty hand and shoving her face inches from Elphaba’s.

Elphaba, unfazed, merely pushed her glasses up her nose. “Hello, Galinda. We’re having a lovely evening, aren’t we?”

“Hi, gorgeous,” Galinda said, just to see Elphie blush from up close—oh, delightful. “Come here often?”

“To your room? Yes, in fact. I do sleep here.”

“That’s right, you do.” Galinda grinned, settling more comfortably atop Elphaba, who was delightfully supple in all the right places. She rested her chin on one of Elphaba’s collarbones to maintain eye contact. Elphaba wasn’t fully reclined nor sitting upright, but at an in-between angle that worked perfectly for Galinda’s purposes.

This close, she could see every freckle. It made her heart flutter.

“Would you pretty please try the clothes I got for you?” Galinda asked as theatrically as she could. “And, my love, may you go out with me tonight?”

“Would you go out with me tonight?” Elphaba corrected.

“Why, yes I would, dearest. Thanks for asking.”

That earned a laugh, making Galinda feel as if she’d won a prize. “Go out where?”

“Now, I’m not going to tell you. It’s a secret, and a surprise. A secretful surprise.”

“Not even a little hint?”

“My parents are coming?”

“They are?” Elphaba tilted her head. “Is it croquet? They invited me to a game.”

“Elphie, it’s the middle of the night.”

“Oh.” Elphaba glanced at the window, frowning when she realized the sun had long since set. “I hadn’t realized.”

“I can’t leave you alone for two hours because this is what happens.” Galinda sighed, now resting her cheek on Elphaba’s shoulder, blowing air against her neck where she knew Elphaba was ticklish. “Reading until you lose track of time. What even is this book?”

“It’s your book,” Elphaba said, holding it aloft and half-heartedly squirming away from the tickling. “Your annotations are very illuminating, even if half the time you’re referencing things I don’t understand.”

With Galinda this close to her, she could so easily kiss Elphaba and be done with it. The warmth of Elphaba’s skin, her heartbeat pulsing visibility at her neck, the way her green eyes caught the light in the room. Unbearable. Beyond excruciating.

But, no. No kissing right now. Galinda had a plan for tonight. She had waited the entire school year to kiss her—what was one more night?

And if Elphaba rejected her, well, then so be it. Galinda would experience her very first real heartbreak and then life would go on—after what she imagined would be an extremely long period of miserable, gut-wrenching sorrow. And hopefully, hopefully, Elphaba would still want to be friends.

Above all, Galinda couldn’t bear to ruin the first real friendship Elphaba had ever known. She would never forgive herself for that. She loved being Elphie’s friend and wouldn’t trade it for anything.

But she would never know if Elphaba reciprocated her feelings unless she outright told her. That much was clear. Despite Galinda’s best efforts—and they truly had been her very best, most desperate efforts—Elphaba remained entirely oblivious. The fact she hadn’t even been able to tell Crope was flirting with her told Galinda everything she needed to know.

It wasn’t that Elphaba was rejecting Galinda and letting her down gently—it was that Elphaba had no idea.

Galinda was going to tell her. No more stalling—it was just terrifying, and Galinda hated being afraid. She wasn’t a coward.

So it would happen tonight. She had a wonderful plan, and having a plan put her at ease.

Galinda repositioned herself to stare at the book, resting against Elphaba’s side, nestled in the crook of her arm, head tucked on her shoulder. Elphaba’s free hand immediately went to Galinda’s head, long nails scratching pleasantly against her scalp.

The casual intimacy of it made Galinda sick to her stomach. Elphaba probably thought this was just something friends did.

Safe to say Galinda had never been this close with any of her friends, and had never even desired to be.

“Like this, for example,” Elphaba said, completely oblivious to the fact that Galinda’s proximity had nothing to do with the book and everything to do with being so in love with her she would crawl under Elphaba’s skin if she could. Casually, of course. “I don’t know what this means.”

Galinda squinted at her own cramped handwriting in the margins, trying to focus despite the distracting warmth of Elphaba’s body against hers. “It’s about nodes—they’re explained later in the book. In layman’s terms, they’re simply where paths intersect.”

“From a clueless layman, thank you.”

“My clueless layman,” Galinda said, patting Elphie’s hip. “You’re speeding through this thing, though, Oz.”

“I like it,” Elphaba said. “And I like what you have to say about it.”

Galinda seriously had to marry this girl.

“Sadly, I’m not here to discuss my notes.” Galinda propped herself up on her elbow, causing Elphaba’s hand to slide across her head until it ended at the nape of her neck. “I’m here because I brought you some clothes I’d like you to try, and because we’re going out tonight.”

Elphaba left her hand exactly where it was, featherlight. What Galinda would give for Elphaba to actually hold her there and pull her down for a kiss.

“Where are we going?”

“I told you it’s a surprise,” Galinda said. “But you’ll like the place, don’t you trust me?”

“Completely.” Elphaba’s lips quirked up in that way that drove Galinda quite mad. But it was fine. This was fine. Tonight she would confess just how mad she’d been driven, and Elphaba would surely do something about it. “Alright, let me see what you’ve brought.”

The mention of the clothes snapped Galinda out of her stupor.

“Oh, I do think you will like them!” She beamed, hopping off the bed and clapping her hands thrice. “Momsie and I worked on them, and I wanted you to have options. There’s something similar to what you usually wear, but also—something of a bold choice. You’ll see. Come on, get up, sit right there and let me show you.”

Dutifully, Elphaba sat at the foot of the bed. Her hair was in a high, thick bun tonight, as if to keep it out of the way while she read. Paired with her serious expression, she looked sharply focused, as if nothing else mattered but this moment.

It made color rise up Galinda’s neck—but that was also just perfectly casual.

“Which one do you want to see first?” Galinda asked, then, before Elphaba could even speak, “Alright, fine, I’ll show you the bold one. Here.”

With a flourish, she opened the door and wheeled in the rack she’d left just outside, the garments hanging neatly from it, each one wrapped in sleek black paper. To prevent wrinkles, and also to add to the element of surprise.

Elphaba frowned, but sounded amused. “When and how did you get a whole rack?”

“That’s not important. You should try it.”

“I don’t even know what it is.”

“You should try it.”

“But can’t you show me—?”

“Elphaba, try it on.”

Sighing, Elphaba grabbed the covered clothes and disappeared into Galinda’s closet. Maybe one day—hopefully soon!—she’d be fine with changing in front of Galinda without bothering to cover herself. Now wouldn’t that be a sight.

But there were no complaints from Elphie—so that meant she liked it.

Galinda was already grinning when Elphaba walked out, but her smile instantly vanished, replaced by parted lips and rising color in her cheeks.

Galinda was hopeless when it came to taking measurements for a proper fit, but Momsie had a keen eye. Even with just Galinda as her model, she’d gotten Elphaba’s measurements down to a T.

The jacket looked perfect on her—black, of course, because it was her favorite, but with subtle gray stripes, because Elphaba was so fond of her lines. She hadn’t buttoned it, and neither had she tied the golden satin tie hanging loosely across her shoulders. Galinda was in front of her immediately.

“What do you think?” Elphaba asked, tilting her head back to give Galinda more room to work.

I think you should dress like this for our wedding. “You look stunning.”

“Do I?”

“Mhm. It fits perfectly.” Galinda’s fingers brushed against Elphaba’s collar. “Do you like it?”

“It’s very me. Although—” She gestured vaguely at the striped trousers, which lacked a skirt on top as she often preferred. They flared out a little at the hems because Galinda knew Elphaba would want to wear boots, and they’d look better inside the pants, but the rest was a snug fit—extremely snug. Galinda had to make a conscious effort not to stare.

She doubted Elphaba would care if she did, and most likely she wouldn’t even notice—but Galinda wasn’t so indecent that she couldn’t control herself. She could be perfectly composed. Dignified. Yes. Eyes exactly where they should be.

Ah. Most times.

“I did say it was a bit bold.” Galinda looped the fabric end over end, fingers lingering more than usual, taking her time. The warmth of Elphaba’s body felt like her own. “I love it, though.”

Elphaba looked at Galinda steadily, and her lips parted minutely, as if she’d just had something of a revelation. Galinda hoped that revelation was that she wanted to kiss Galinda just as badly as Galinda wanted to kiss her, but luck wasn’t on her side tonight.

“Alright, then I’ll wear it.”

Galinda finished her knot, and she smoothed out Elphaba’s lapels. The sight of her was doing things to Galinda’s stomach. “You don’t have to if you don’t want to.”

“I do want to,” Elphaba said. “It’s very nice. Will you let me wear boots?”

“Will I let you?” Galinda chuckled, glancing down to find Elphie still barefoot.

“Yes, will you? You’re in charge tonight.”

“Am I now?” Though the smile she delivered was perfectly sly, Galinda wanted to scream.

“Yes. I assume there are still accessories? You’re always talking about the importance of accessorizing properly.”

This idiot managed to be so charming without even trying. There was nothing Galinda liked more than someone who actually listened to her.

“Of course there are accessories.” Galinda ran her hands further down the lapels, stopping at Elphaba’s waist, buttoning the double breasted jacket. Also snug. Perhaps this had been a bad idea—

She couldn’t help herself. Elphaba stood too close, looking impossibly enticing, and she was speaking with that soft voice of hers that concealed mirth just beneath the surface. Galinda was only human.

She leaned in and pressed a kiss to Elphaba’s cheek, as gently as possible, fingers still curled around the lapels of her jacket. Elphaba’s freckles had no texture, her skin smooth and warm. She smelled of fresh soap and the rosemary oil she used in her hair.

Elphaba smiled and leaned into her, and Galinda felt a little lightheaded.

“What will you wear?” Elphaba asked softly, while Galinda hadn’t even fully pulled away. She felt as if she couldn’t, she was trapped by Elphaba’s magnetism, pulled in by the gravity of her.

“Yellow,” Galinda murmured. Her nose nearly brushed Elphaba’s cheek, her lips so close. Elphaba didn’t seem to find this odd in the slightest. Galinda’s skin broke out in goosebumps. She felt drunk.

“Yellow’s my favorite color.”

“Is it?” Galinda smiled, heart racing. “Lucky for you, I look stunning in yellow.”

“You look stunning in everything,” Elphaba said casually—genuinely casual, unlike Galinda’s pretense. “But, actually, yellow most of all. It matches your hair, you look like sunshine.”

They only locked eyes then, as Galinda had been too busy drinking in every detail of Elphaba’s face.

“Oh, Elphie, you always say the most absurdly wonderful things,” Galinda murmured, her voice softer than intended. The air between them felt charged, like the moment just before a lightning strike. She should step back—should create some space—but her feet wouldn’t move.

“I mean them.” Elphaba was just so sincere. And so unbelievably pretty.

Galinda’s heart pounded, surely noticeable at this point. She needed something to focus on—anything to ground herself—so her gaze dropped to the tie she had so carefully tied. Her fingers brushed against it, adjusting an already perfect knot.

“Well, thank you for saying so,” she managed, her voice trembling ever so slightly. “I chose yellow for your tie too so we could match.”

“I like that,” Elphaba said, that tiny smile of hers perfectly in place.

“Yes—” Galinda kissed her cheek again, impulsively, only because she could, and because she needed something to spur herself into action and actually retreat from Elphaba’s orbit.

Elphaba giggled. Her arms looked rather empty without Galinda now.

“Put on your boots, and do your hair,” Galinda said. “And here are the rest of your things—”

“Wait,” said Elphaba. “Can I ask you a favor?”

“I’d do anything you asked,” Galinda blurted, then blinked. “I mean. Favor. Yes. Let me hear it.”

Elphaba went to Galinda’s vanity, eyeing the carefully arranged powder tins and rows of lipstick shades. “Can you h—?”

“Oh, Elphie, yes.” Galinda was already pushing Elphaba down onto her plush little stool. “Yes, darling, of course I can help you with makeup. Are you joking? Is this real? Am I dreaming? Sweet Oz, If I am, I never want to wake up. I would simply be thrilled. Honored, even. And touched, and so very excited! Let’s see—what were you thinking?”

“I don’t know,” Elphaba admitted, taking off her spectacles. “You’re the expert. What do you have that matches green?”

“Now that’s an interesting question.” Galinda hummed, rummaging through drawers she hadn’t opened in ages. “I don’t think you’d want to wear what I usually wear, so I’ll have to improvise a little.”

Elphaba frowned as she peeked inside one of the drawers, watching Galinda pull out a palette of dark colors. “That’s yours?”

“I used them once and then never again,” Galinda said. “It happens a lot—I buy things I know I won’t use just to have them. But that’s lucky for you! Look, copper—and I’ll blend it with black like so.” She demonstrated on her hand. “Isn’t it divine?”

Elphaba just shrugged. “It’s nice.”

“Just nice?”

“I’m having trouble picturing it on me.”

Galinda nodded. “Allow me, then.”

It was right then, as Elphaba closed her eyes and turned her face toward the light, that Galinda realized this was a terrible, horrendible idea.

She clamped her mouth shut as she grasped Elphie’s chin to steady her face, forcibly containing the flood of compliments threatening to spill out. This echoed a certain night when Elphaba had gone along with Galinda’s nonsense until Galinda had called her beautiful.

Not that she hadn’t called Elphaba beautiful since—but she tried to be careful about it. This was too similar. Too dangerous.

Still, maybe this was another way to tell her. Maybe the gentle brush over her eyelids would make Elphaba believe Galinda meant it. Maybe the careful way Galinda lined her eyes with kohl would show just how much she already adored them.

What a lucky excuse to stare at Elphaba to her heart’s content. Not that she needed one, but still. Her fingertips tingled where they rested against Elphaba’s face. Such soft skin. She could still remember how it felt under her lips.

Galinda knew she would regret asking Elphaba to open her eyes, but she had to.

“Alright,” Galinda said. “Eyes done.”

Elphaba looked directly at her, though she should have been looking at the mirror. It was as if that prospect terrified her, or as if she had eyes only for Galinda, who still leaned close, still held her face with one hand. Probably the former.

“Um. Lipstick?”

Elphaba nodded.

“You’re not even going to ask the color? Or even look at it?”

“I trust you.”

“Elphie—” Galinda’s voice was soft, careful. “You look nervous. What are you scared of?”

Being the prettiest person in the room? Was what she would’ve said if this were any other moment, but the static in the air made her skin prickle with goosebumps. She didn’t have it in herself to crack a joke. Even if it would’ve been the truth.

“I don’t know,” Elphaba said as measuredly as she could, but there was a hint of trepidation in her voice still, and the little smile she always tucked at the corner of her mouth was gone now. “Changing, I suppose.”

“Changing?” Galinda frowned. “You know, none of this is supposed to change you. It’s just supposed to be for fun, and to make you feel nice—but it’s not like you need it. It’s not like anyone needs it. I don’t think you’re changing.”

“I think I am,” Elphaba countered gently. “But not in a bad way. I’m simply learning. Learning that this is fun like you said, and learning that it does make me feel nice. I never knew any of that before.”

Galinda’s heart swelled with tenderness. “You deserve to feel nice and find what makes you comfortable, everyone should feel good about themselves.”

“I’m learning a lot of things in this place,” Elphaba said, but still didn’t look at herself in the mirror.

Galinda’s thumb brushed Elphaba’s cheek gently. “Like what?”

Elphaba’s eyes were wistful, thoughtful. “I realized that I spent so long thinking I had to reject all of it. That because people wouldn’t see past...” She gestured vaguely at herself. “...that I shouldn’t even try.”

“And now?”

“Well, I’ll always be different,” Elphaba said. “No matter what I do. So why shouldn’t I do the things I’ve always been curious about, if it doesn’t matter one way or the other? At least this way, I get to feel nice. I get to have fun. And I get to—”

“Yes?” Galinda held her breath.

“It’s just easier.” Her voice dropped a bit. “When you’re here. When you help me. You should actually teach me how to do my makeup, I assume it’s even more fun when you’re doing it yourself.”

Galinda laughed, trying desperately to ignore how her heart hammered at the words. “Well, fun for you. But not for me! I rather enjoy doing this for you.”

“But you’d have even more fun if I surprised you, I imagine.”

“Oh, Elphie, you do know me so well!” Galinda laughed. “You’re absolutely right, I love a surprise. So—can I do your lipstick now?”

“Yes,” Elphaba said, and immediately sat straighter, tilted her chin up just so. It made Galinda smile.

“Perfect.” Galinda uncapped the lipstick, a deep burgundy, almost black. “Now, part your lips slightly—like that, yes.” Her left hand came up to cradle Elphaba’s jaw, steadying her. “And try not to move.”

The room felt suddenly smaller as Galinda leaned in close, carefully tracing the curve of Elphaba’s bottom lip. The color was rich against her skin, so incredibly flattering it sent Galinda’s heart careening again.

“Press your lips together,” Galinda instructed, and Elphaba complied. “Now stay still again, I need to get the corners just right.” Her thumb brushed the edge of Elphaba’s mouth, perfecting the line. She was so close she could feel Elphaba’s careful, measured breaths against her fingertips.

“There,” she whispered, forcing herself to step back. “I’m all done.”

Elphaba took another steadying breath and finally turned to face her reflection. Her eyes widened slightly.

“Oh,” she breathed, and Galinda watched her reflection carefully, ready to jump in with reassurance if needed. But Elphaba didn’t look away from herself. Instead, she leaned closer to the mirror, tilting her head slightly to see how the colors caught the light.

“Do you like it?” Galinda asked softly, though she could already see the answer in the way Elphaba couldn’t stop looking, in the slight upturn at the corners of her newly painted lips.

“I do,” Elphaba said, sounding almost surprised at her own admission. Then she turned to Galinda with a sudden grin.

Oh no. Oh absolutely not.

Galinda was so doomed. Well, she’d always been doomed when it came to Elphaba, but now she was more doomed, somehow.

“Thank you for the help, and for the clothes. I can’t believe you made them for me.”

“My mother helped,” Galinda said weakly.

“I’ll thank her too,” said Elphaba. “Are you sure you still don’t want to tell me where we’re going?”

“I’m sure.” It came out squeaky and stuttery, even for just two words. What was her problem? Oh but she just had to say something. Not the true and inevitable something, she could still save that one for tonight, but something. “You look fantastic, Elphie.”

Elphaba rewarded her with another full smile, her eyes crinkling at the corners, and then she came to her feet, examined herself in the mirror, and gave a sheepish little turn. “Do you think?”

“Yes,” Galinda said, feeling one clock tick away from fainting… casually, of c—oh who was she kidding. She was in love. Absurdly, madly, deeply in love. There was nothing casual about it. “What do you think?”

“I agree,” Elphaba said simply.

That was as much of an admission as she would allow herself, Galinda knew. But she didn’t push—not when her heart was already warm with pride, with love. It was such a step for Elphie, and she would take what she could get.

Most importantly, she couldn’t wait to tell her the truth tonight.

“Alright!” Galinda announced, clapping her hands before seizing Elphaba’s wrist. “Now grab your shoes and all the tasteful jewelry I picked for you—and then get out.”

“Out?”

“Yes, yes, out. You’ll fix your hair in what was supposed to be your room, and then you’ll wait for me downstairs.”

“I will?”

“Yes!”

“Why?”

“Because I want you to be surprised when you see me, obviously.”

“Obviously,” Elphaba repeated, grinning. “Well, alright. You’ve already helped me so much tonight—the least I can do is indulge your theatrics.”

Galinda beamed at her, already shooing her toward the door. “Go on then! And don’t you dare touch your eyes and do not even think of wearing your spectacles.”

“Yes, your majesty,” Elphaba called over her shoulder, and Galinda’s heart did that familiar flutter at the sound of her laughter echoing down the hallway.

Once alone, Galinda turned back to her vanity, her own reflection practically glowing with anticipation. Tonight would change everything—she could feel it. She just needed to make herself even more beautiful than usual, find the perfect moment, and finally tell Elphaba the truth.

How hard could that be?

Chapter Text

“Oh, won’t you indulge your poor wife? Please? Have one drink with me, dearest, it’s just one.”

“My poor wife, isn’t it?” A laugh echoed from downstairs. “We’re about to leave and we’ll surely be getting drinks over there. What’s the point of this?”

“The point is to warm up!”

“We’re far too old to be doing that.”

“How dare you call us old? You take that back this instant. Why, but we’re in the prime of our lives!”

Elphaba almost felt bad for interrupting, but the only way to the foyer was through the living room, where Kalena and Iliana stood by the liquor cabinet, wrapped in easy conversation, Kalena rummaging for glasses already with a bottle in her hand.

While Elphaba had grown used to their casual elegance around the house, tonight was something else entirely. Their clothes seemed to compliment each other—Iliana in a sleek black dress, Kalena in a blue ensemble more similar to Elphaba’s, with a fitted jacket and slim trousers, though hers had a great number of sequins and frills about the hemlines.

It struck Elphaba how seamless it was—not the result of careful planning, but the harmony of two people who had spent years sharing a wardrobe. Then again, knowing them, it was definitely planned.

Wherever they were going tonight, Elphaba had no doubt the two of them would look as if they belonged. Galinda would too, no matter what she chose to wear. Unlike Elphaba herself.

She grimaced at her own thoughts. She didn’t want to think like that anymore.

Despite standing still and not making a single sound, both women noticed Elphaba lingering at the foot of the stairs.

“Oh!” Kalena’s face lit up the moment she saw her. “Elphaba, darling, look at you!”

Iliana turned as well, forgetting the glass that had been pushed into her hand. “My, my. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say Galinda’s been meddling.”

Warmth crept up Elphaba’s neck, but she managed to stand her ground under their keen attention. “I asked for her help, given that I don’t even know where we’re going.”

“You think you are such a clever young lady.” Kalena laughed. “But no, we’re not telling you.”

“Well,” said Elphaba. “I had to try.”

“It was a good try,” Iliana said. “Now, come here—let’s have a proper look at you. Oh, stunning. You’re such a dear.”

Elphaba resisted the urge to fidget. Compliments were still unfamiliar territory, but it was about time she stopped wanting to run away whenever she heard one.

“Yes, yes,” Kalena said, surveying her handiwork with satisfaction. “I’m glad I was able to make something that fits you so well! Though it does look a little tight about the shoulders—forgive me.”

“No, it’s perfect,” Elphaba told her. “Thank you for this, I don’t know—well, it was very kind of you.”

“It’s nothing!” Kalena playfully patted her shoulder. “I take care of my girls! And there’s plenty more where this came from, but you’ll have to let me take proper measurements.”

A buzzing filled Elphaba’s ears, but it was gentle, it was comforting—she felt suddenly very lucky. But, surely, this was just a platitude—no, well, even Elphaba had to admit it didn’t sound like a platitude. It sounded very honest.

“She’s trying to lure you into a trap,” Iliana stage-whispered as Kalena brought Elphaba over to their fancy liquor cabinet, its polished wood gleaming in the soft light from the fireplace. “This is what she does. Gives you beautiful gifts, makes you feel special, and next thing you know you’re stuck with her forever.”

“She should be so lucky!” Kalena laughed, standing on her tiptoes to kiss her wife’s cheek. “But you’re the lucky one, my love, since you get to spend forever with me.”

Elphaba shook her head, amused. “I think I can survive one well-made outfit without getting ensnared, but I appreciate the warning.”

“Famous last words.” Iliana sighed dramatically. “That’s exactly what I thought when I met her.”

“You see how she talks about me?” Kalena placed a hand over her heart in mock offense. “And yet, if I recall correctly, she was the one who followed me around. We used to work at the Emporium—highly respectable boutique, the highest of the highest until we opened up shop. They’ve been on the decline for years, but surely you’ve heard of it.”

Elphaba had not heard of it, but she nodded either way.

Iliana sighed again, clearly aware of where this was going. “Must you tell the story?”

“Yes. So, as it were, she was so shy back in the day—”

“I wasn’t shy.”

“I have a hard time believing that,” Elphaba said, nearly at the same time.

“Shy, shy, shy.” Kalena tutted, shaking her head. “She was. You were. She joined the team later, and everyone was so intimidated by her—even me. Darling, you were quite intimidating.”

“I was not intimidating,” Iliana said calmly.

“She was,” Kalena said, undeterred. “That was, until she opened her mouth. You were just the cutest thing, weren’t you? Always making excuses to see me, ‘forgetting’ her things at my station so she had a reason to come back. I just couldn’t resist a woman so utterly adorable. And even after all that, she was still surprised when I told her we should get dinner together. Can you imagine?”

“I can’t, truly,” said Elphaba, captivated by this glimpse into their past.

“You must.” Iliana sighed again. “She exaggerates everything, but I’m afraid this requires no embellishment—I was awfully smitten.”

“You still are.”

A third sigh. “I still am.”

“But, you see, it paid for me to be direct,” Kalena said with a laugh—though this time, her voice carried a sharper edge than before. “Otherwise, she might still be writing me love notes only to toss them in the trash.”

Elphaba pressed her fist against her mouth to stifle a laugh, then, unable to resist, asked, “You didn’t—find one, did you?”

“Oh, I found several.”

“I think that’s enough,” Iliana said. She seemed to be too poised to blush, and her eyes shone with mirth, but Elphaba caught her fiddling with the stem of the wine glass she still hadn’t touched. “Oz, but can Galinda hurry now?”

“She likes taking her sweet time.” Kalena grinned. “Always happens, but I suppose tonight she had to take extra, extra time to compose herself after seeing you in your getup, Elphaba. She must truly be beside herself.”

Right, that made sense. Galinda had helped create these clothes for her, after all. “She was very excited, yes, and insisted I wait here while she got ready.”

“Of course she did,” both women said in perfect unison, then laughed, exchanging a knowing look that made Elphaba wonder if she was missing something important.

“But now that you’re here,” said Iliana, “perhaps you’ll be the voice of reason. My dear wife is insisting I join her for a pre-departure drink, despite the fact that we’ll be drinking at the event itself. What ever shall I do?”

“Ah.” Elphaba’s smile came without thought. “I’m afraid I can’t help there—I wouldn’t want to get between a married couple.”

“Good answer,” Kalena said with a wink, and poured a third glass of wine. “You’ll have one too, won’t you? To keep me company while my wife pretends to protest?”

“Oh, I shouldn’t—”

“Nonsense! You’re already dressed and ready.” Kalena’s eyes twinkled. “Besides, that lipstick is most likely smudge-proof, or my daughter wouldn’t have chosen it.”

What an odd comment.

Iliana coughed, and hastily pushed the glass into Elphaba’s hand. “Yes, yes, might as well join us in our debauchery.”

“Such a strong word for half a glass of wine,” Elphaba mused, but accepted the offered drink.

“You’re the one having only half, Elphaba dear,” Kalena said, topping off Iliana’s glass with a triumphant grin. “But we are not. I’m not known for pouring half measures.”

“You see what I have to put up with?” Iliana sighed, looking to Elphaba for sympathy—but the fondness in her eyes gave her away. “Thirty years of this.”

“Thirty wonderful years,” Kalena corrected.

“Most of them, yes.” Iliana’s lips twitched. “Though I do recall that dinner party in—”

“We do not speak of the fish incident.”

Elphaba’s curiosity piqued as she glanced between them. “The fish incident?”

“No, no,” Kalena said quickly. “We’re not corrupting you with our scandals. And it would take such a long time, longer than the time Galinda is spending making herself beautiful.”

“As if that takes any effort,” Elphaba said without thinking, then felt her face warm as both women turned to her.

Kalena and Iliana exchanged a look that made Elphaba want to sink into the floor—the kind of look that held entire conversations, perfected over decades of marriage.

“Oh, that’s very sweet of you to say, Elphaba,” Kalena said, barely containing a giggle. “I’m sure she would love to hear it. And, you know, that’s exactly the sort of thing I used to say about this one over here, when we were your age.”

Another odd comment.

“You still do,” Iliana pointed out. “But it was sweet of you to say, and quite right. Our Galinda hardly needs help in that department—she just enjoys the process. The art of it, as she would say. Remember when she was five and got into your makeup collection?”

“How could I forget? She painted half the walls trying to make them ‘prettier.’” Kalena’s eyes softened at the memory. “Though I must say, her technique has improved considerably since then.”

“Sure, but what a disaster that was. We kept finding lipstick scribbles for weeks afterward, in the most unexpected places. You should’ve seen it, Elphaba. A most beautifying process for our home, she said.”

“Yes! Remember the one at the top of the pantry door? We still don’t even know how she got up there, with her being so tiny.” Both of them laughed, and Elphaba couldn’t help but join in.

“Ah, our baby.” Kalena sighed wistfully. “She’s all grown up now, and I feel nothing but pride, but back in the day she was awfully clingy with her mama. I’d carry her with just one arm and she would suck on her thumb and sleep on my shoulder while I worked. It made things terribly cumbersome, but incredibly worthwhile.”

Elphaba ached.

Her grip tightened slightly on her glass, and she forced her shoulders to remain still.

It was the strangest of feelings, to be happy and be sad at the same time. To yearn for something she had never had. Had her mother carried her when she was a baby? Had she let Elphaba fall asleep on her shoulder, too?

Would she have loved Elphaba, the way her father never did?

At least Galinda had been loved. At least she had grown up with twice as many mothers as Elphaba and no cold, irascible father at all. That dulled the pain a great deal.

Kalena exhaled, then let out a soft laugh, shaking off the sentimentality. “Look at me getting all misty-eyed.” Her wife had moved closer, wrapping a gentle arm around her waist. “Do forgive me, Elphaba—it’s just been an adjustment not having her here all the time. Not that I’m not thrilled she’s chasing her dreams, but, you know, I’ve had to adapt to a lot.”

“Please don’t apologize,” Elphaba said. “If it helps at all, Galinda loves you both so much. She talks about you all the time back at Shiz, and she misses living with you too, she told me that’s why she sends so many letters home.”

Iliana smiled, squeezing Kalena’s waist. “We love her letters. It’s good to know what she’s up to while she’s away. Of course, there’s a recurring guest star in all of them.”

Elphaba shifted on her feet. “She exaggerates,” she said, because it seemed the safest thing to say.

“Oh, does she?” Iliana teased.

Kalena grinned. “It’s sweet, really. And, you know—if you ever wanted to come back to Frottica for Lurlinemas break later this year—”

“I couldn’t—”

“You could,” Kalena insisted. “You’re always welcome, sweetheart. Oh, the holidays are so lovely here, and we have family from the provinces visit us every year. Not to mention, we host a big show to launch our winter collections. And, of course, Galinda would love to have you here.”

“As would we,” said Iliana.

“I—” Elphaba cleared her throat. “Thank you for the offer, it’s very generous. I’m just—it already took a great deal of convincing for my father to let me come here in the first place. He would never allow me to spend another break away from Nest Hardings.”

“We can write to him, if you’d like,” Iliana suggested. “Perhaps we could—”

“Pretend we are Madame Morrible and tell him your presence is required at school,” Kalena said brightly. “He doesn’t have to know you’re here instead.”

Iliana shot her a look. “Alright, that is not what I was going to say.”

Elphaba chuckled. “You needn’t go to such lengths for me.”

“It’s not just for you, darling,” said Kalena. “It’s for us, too. We simply adore having you here.”

The ache in Elphaba’s chest eased—just a little. At first, it had been hard to be here, hard to shake the feeling that she was being lied to. But now, it was easy to believe.

“I love being here, too,” Elphaba said very honestly. Her next words sat on her tongue for a moment before she let them slip free. “And I think I can handle my father myself—it’s about time I do, anyhow.”

Kalena gasped, clapping her hands in delight. “Oh! Wonderful! Just make sure to pack heavy coats—or don’t, that way we can make you some!”

“You’d make her some whether she brought any or not.”

“Hush now, dearest.” Kalena lifted her glass. “To Elphaba being with us for the holidays—cheers!”

They chuckled and clinked their glasses together, despite already having sipped from them, when the sound of heels on hardwood made them all look up.

Elphaba’s laughter died in her throat.

Galinda descended the stairs with practiced grace, her smile betraying not even a hint of nerves. She had promised yellow, and she had delivered—an off-the-shoulder gown of smooth tulle, fine enough to be sheer, yet layered just so to preserve modesty. It draped over her like a sigh, soft and weightless, though the fitted bodice accentuated her figure, and the skirt billowed out gently just below her knees.

Her hair was curled more pronouncedly than usual, ringlets framing her delicate face, looking softer than ever. And she had let all of her hair down—unusual for her, but the effect was striking. She was breathtaking.

Quite literally, since Elphaba forgot how to breathe.

“Darling!” Kalena gave one of her signature delighted claps, shuffling forward to pull Galinda into her arms. “All that waiting was worth it. You look exquisite, my beautiful girl. Oz, but just look at you! Spin for me, sweetheart. Where did you get this one from?”

“You mean to tell me you don’t recognize your own wife’s handiwork?” Galinda put a hand to her mouth in mock surprise. “That’s so cruel. Do you even love her anymore?”

“You made this for her?” Kalena turned, her hands still resting on Galinda’s bare shoulders, ignoring the latter half of her words entirely. “Oh, my love, it’s so different from your usual. I simply adore it. It’s perfect.”

“She wears it well,” Iliana said. “But thank—”

“And why,” Kalena interrupted, “have you never made one like this for me? For your dearest, darlingest, and only wife?”

Iliana sighed. “Light of my days, I was simply practicing. Now that I know I can get that sort of—”

“This was practice?” Galinda looked down at herself. “You use your only daughter as a practice doll? A test run? Am I not worthy of a finished product?”

“Oz deliver me from this.” Iliana downed the last of her wine and reached forward to pour herself more.

“Now, now.” Kalena appeared at her side, stopping her from doing just that. “One glass before leaving is indulgence, dearest, but two is just excess. Only one of those is appropriate.” And she turned to wink at Elphaba, who was still standing right there and feeling as if she was out of her body, somehow. “Remember that.”

“I will,” Elphaba said faintly, and only then she noticed the ache in her cheeks. She’d been smiling the entire time.

“We’ll go get the carriage,” Kalena said, dragging Iliana by the wrist. “Don’t take too long, girls.”

Once they were gone, Galinda ran a hand down her skirts, smoothing out wrinkles that didn’t exist. “How do I look, Elphie? And be honest.”

“You—” Elphaba scrambled for something intelligent to say, something appropriately complimentary, something that wouldn’t betray the fact that she was barely holding herself together.

What was happening to her?

The answer sat on the tip of her tongue, and yet—somehow—the sight of Galinda in that dress, with that hair, with that look in her eyes, only pushed it further and further away.

She had no idea what to say.

Galinda, inexplicably, seemed satisfied by this. “Being speechless is also a way of saying many things. I’ll take it. Did you have too much wine with my mothers just now?”

“Ah, no.” Elphaba cleared her throat. “Not even half a glass.”

Galinda stepped closer, smiling with pursed lips, her eyes narrowing with something like mischief. The extra height from her heels made her just a fraction taller, forcing Elphaba to tilt her head ever so slightly to meet her gaze. Elphaba felt two opposing urges at once—to step away, to step closer; and the contradiction left her frozen in place.

Galinda extended a wrist to Elphaba, still smiling, and asked, “Would you be so kind as to help me with this bracelet?”

Elphaba took it carefully, fingers brushing against Galinda’s skin as she fastened the delicate clasp. Galinda’s perfume was soft, sweet, something floral and warm that made Elphaba’s head swim.

“Thank you,” Galinda murmured. “Now let’s go.”

“Wait.” Elphaba closed her hand around Galinda’s wrist, and a pleasant buzz rippled through her mind at the sight of their contrasting skin tones, and at the fact that Galinda’s jewelry was silver, but Elphaba’s was gold—opposites in every way, and yet complementary in every other. Harmonious. “I do need to say that you look stunning. And beautiful. As if you stepped out of a dream.”

Dressed in such a light color, the blush that spread over Galinda’s cheeks was impossible to miss. “How do you go from saying nothing to saying such a thing?”

Elphaba shrugged. “I just needed a moment to get my bearings.”

“Right—” Galinda took a deep breath, and then her eyes searched Elphaba’s face for—something, though Elphaba didn’t know what. Her gaze flickered down, and lingered, then went up again. “Thank you, Elphie.”

Elphaba didn’t realize until Galinda spoke again, but her eyes had trailed down as well, lingering a bit too long on the shiny gloss of Galinda’s lips. It seemed enticing, like an invitation, almost.

Mortified, Elphaba snapped her gaze back to Galinda’s eyes, hoping the moment had gone unnoticed. “Of course. Did I flatter you enough for you to tell me where we’re going?”

For some reason, she had the sense the moment had not gone unnoticed.

Galinda smiled at her again, slowly, as if her mouth were trying to catch Elphaba’s attention again. It worked. It worked a little too well.

“I’m still not telling you where we’re going,” Galinda said softly, one thumb brushing Elphaba’s cheek. “But that was a very good attempt.”

Elphaba found herself leaning into the touch, into Galinda’s hand, committing to memory the warmth of her and the sweetness of her flowery perfume. Elphaba blinked, and corrected herself, and pulled away.

Galinda didn’t stop smiling. She looked like someone who knew secrets Elphaba hadn’t yet learned. Her hand trailed from Elphaba’s face to her shoulder, then down her arm until their fingers intertwined.

“It’s going to be a good night, that I can promise you,” Galinda said, her voice quiet and assured. “So let’s go.”

And when had Elphaba ever been able to do anything but follow her?

The outing ended up being to a dancehall with live music—apparently something Galinda had been excited to show Elphaba, but they had to wait for “the right night,” whatever that meant.

“It’s like the Ozdust Ballroom,” Galinda had said before they arrived, but that was, as far as Elphaba was concerned, wholly inaccurate.

It wasn’t underground, for starters, and there was no air of illicit adolescence but rather an atmosphere of unhurried composure. The music was also different, lively in another way, rich with strings, less drums. The sounds seemed to invite people into a slow dance with the night itself.

And, overall, more people were paying attention to the band than they ever had at the Ozdust, like they were the main event.

Groups gathered around small tables scattered far enough to feel private. The soft hum of conversation floated just beneath the music, as did the tapping of boots and heels, wooden dance floors gleaming smooth as glass, catching the reflection of elaborate sconces and chandeliers.

It was nothing like the Ozdust Ballroom. It was as if someone had put the Ozdust Ballroom through a good rinse by the river and had wrung it out—and then threw the remnants away and built something different in its stead.

But Elphaba liked it either way.

It was just the sort of place Galinda enjoyed, nicely decorated, but not too pretentious. Sophisticated, almost. The music was also very catchy; Elphaba found herself tapping her fingers along as she settled at a table with the Uplands, no longer surprised at how easy it was to just sit down as if she was part of the group.

She was.

They engaged in easy conversation, nibbled on almonds and fritters, saw the band switch out not long after they arrived, and then saw the new band do the same. It all made Elphaba incredibly giddy, to simply be. The lights were dim enough that she went unnoticed; she relaxed as the evening went on.

It was good. Way too good.

“I knew you’d like this place,” Galinda said after a while, swirling the sparkling wine she’d ordered. “And this setup. Most of the time they play rowdy stuff.”

There was this tone in her voice that came out sometimes, as if she had arranged every detail of every day with only Elphaba in mind. It was becoming harder to dismiss.

“Galinda, this is very tasteful,” Kalena said. “Why don’t you ever bring us here when they’re playing this?”

Iliana laughed. “Because you like rowdy music, dearest.”

Galinda was barely paying attention to them—she seemed to barely be paying attention to anything, even the music. She was resting her chin on a hand, her eyes half-lidded, her smile lazy, and she was looking at Elphaba.

During the whole carriage ride here, and now during their time together in the warm glow, Elphaba found herself constantly looking back.

There was some shuffle at their table—Iliana and Kalena excusing themselves with barely contained giggles—but this time it was Elphaba who wasn’t paying attention.

“Why are you staring at me, Elphie?”

Elphaba cleared her throat. “Why are you staring at me?”

“Because you’re beautiful.”

The words hit Elphaba like a spark, and her cheeks immediately flared with heat.

“Don’t run away,” Galinda said quickly, reaching to grab Elphaba’s hand under the table. “Please. Not again.”

“Alright,” Elphaba said under her breath. “I won’t.”

The room felt suddenly smaller, condensed to where Galinda’s fingers were warmly curled around hers. Galinda held her hand all the time, at all times, it was just what she did, but nowadays it left a lasting impression; Elphaba’s skin buzzed almost impatiently now.

She wanted more of it.

Without thinking, she squeezed Galinda’s hand, and the room seemed to shrink even further when Galinda brushed her thumb over Elphaba’s knuckles.

“We should dance, Elphie.”

“We should—what?”

“Dance,” Galinda said with that easy grin of hers.

Elphaba’s mouth quirked into a little smile. “I don’t follow.”

“Dance. You and me. Right now.”

It was both complicated and not at all, when she said yes. As Galinda pulled her to her feet, Elphaba remembered their last dance—how it had started terribly but ended wonderfully.

There must’ve been more than a dozen people twirling each other about, the music encouraging swaying steps and spins. Elphaba was out of her depth immediately.

Galinda was not.

She effortlessly led Elphaba into the loose crowd, and when Elphaba’s eyes started wandering, for she could feel people’s attention on her like pins against her back, watching, judging—Galinda squeezed her hand tightly.

“Stop that,” Galinda whispered, stepping close enough that Elphaba could feel the warmth radiating from her. “They’re not looking at you.”

“They are,” Elphaba said. “But I don’t care.”

Galinda smiled at her. Elphaba felt weak in ways she couldn’t quite understand, soft in places she didn’t know she had.

Elphaba swallowed, her pulse drumming loudly in her ears. The music rose around them—light, lilting strings now accompanied by a soft, bell-like voice—and Elphaba let Galinda guide her into the rhythm.

She thought it’d be awkward—the other dancers made it look complicated—but it was far from it. Galinda was good, familiar with the music style, and she simplified the steps for Elphaba’s sake but it worked like a charm.

It was different from the first time they danced together.

They were a lot closer, but nobody was staring at them like that night. In a way, it was less intimate, felt less like the entirety of Elphaba’s life had led to that moment, and more like just… fun.

And Galinda was as dazzling as she had been at the Ozdust, glowing in the low light, cheeks flushed pink and eyes bright as starlight, her smile so genuine it hurt a little to look at.

They swayed together, the music filling every empty corner of Elphaba’s mind until all she could think of was the warmth of Galinda’s hands and the quiet thrill of moving in time with someone who made her feel—safe.

A few songs went by, and Galinda seemed determined to spin Elphaba around as often as she could get away with, even if no one else was spinning, but it made both of them laugh and that was enough.

Elphaba tried to spin Galinda, too, but something went wrong along the way, and Galinda ended up crashing into her on the return, stumbling a little in her heels.

“Are you alright?” Elphaba asked over the music, her hands finding their way to Galinda’s waist to steady her.

Galinda laughed, her head still bent down to look at her shoes, but her arms were clinging to Elphaba’s shoulders. “I’m fine, thank you. This is lovely.”

“It is,” Elphaba agreed. “I like laughing with you.”

For a moment, they were no longer dancing.

And when Galinda looked up, they were very close.

Elphaba gulped, dizzy with the scent of floral perfume, and the small bit of light that seemed to cling to the gloss on Galinda’s lips. The world kept turning, surely, the music kept playing and people around them kept dancing, most likely, and yet Elphaba wouldn’t have known.

Galinda’s hand drifted from Elphaba’s shoulder to the side of her neck, thumb gently tracing the edge of her jaw. And there was that strange hunger, the want for more, the need for more. More of what? More contact? They couldn’t physically be any closer together unless—

The music slowed down, the final notes lingering like an exhale over the room. “You’ve been an amazing crowd and you’re all beautiful dancers. Thank you so much!”

Elphaba blinked, startled, as the people around them stopped in their tracks, either pulling apart or clapping for the musicians. The band began retiring, leaving space for another group to take their place.

For a beat longer, Galinda remained close, pressed against her, her eyes trailing Elphaba’s face as if once again she knew a great number of secrets that Elphaba didn’t.

Reluctantly, and slowly, and because she didn’t know what else to do, Elphaba let her go, and stepped away.

Galinda was smiling at her still. She didn’t look bothered by Elphaba’s awkwardness, and it made Elphaba's urge to get closer all the more persistent. It made the regret of stepping away all the more acute.

“Look at that, Elphie,” Galinda said, breathless but fond, her voice soft with affection. “Your second party ever, and I’m at it too.”

“Something tells me you’ll be at the third, and perhaps every other one after.”

Galinda blinked, and laughed, and slipped a hand into Elphaba’s again. “You don’t realize the things you say, do you?”

The people started trickling back towards the tables, chatter growing louder in the pause between the music.

Elphaba’s ears were ringing. “What?”

Galinda just kept smiling, her gaze full of something soft and alluring, but there was no teasing now. “It doesn’t matter. Let’s go get some more drinks.”

When they went back to their table, Iliana and Kalena had some company in the form of other well-dressed ladies, and a young girl with curly bronze hair whose eyes lit up when she saw Galinda approaching.

“Galinda! So you’re really back!” She grinned, and then pouted. “And you haven’t come see me.”

Something terrible was about to happen. Elphaba felt it in her gut.

“Milla,” Galinda said, her expression unreadable. “Hi. I’ve been here for just—”

“More than enough time to visit me!” Milla leaned forward across the small table, her lips curling into a smile. “Who’s your friend?”

To that, every other woman at the table became attentive. Sweat prickled the back of Elphaba’s neck, coupled with the sinking feeling in her stomach. She put on her best neutral face, and, as always, braced for the worst.

Though she didn’t even know what the worst could be.

“This is Elphaba Thropp,” Galinda said. “My roommate from Shiz.”

Elphaba did her best to relax her shoulders, and made a conscious effort not to clench her jaw. “Pleasure to meet you.”

There were brief introductions exchanged; all the names got mixed up in Elphaba’s head but she caught that all of Iliana’s and Kalena’s friends were from a similar social class—and she would’ve been able to tell regardless, given how they were all dressed.

For some reason, Elphaba lingered on Milla. Galinda had never mentioned her, but they were clearly good friends, because Milla could not stop staring at Galinda.

And when Milla’s hand fell on top of Galinda’s on the table, Elphaba realized they were more than good friends. Or had been. The sight made Elphaba’s pulse spike, and it uncoiled all sorts of unpleasant feelings.

“So how’s Shiz?” Milla asked, her voice light, casual—almost too casual. “Everything you dreamed of?”

Elphaba tried not to frown, but she couldn’t help the strange sting at the thought she wasn’t the only person Galinda shared her dreams with. Had Milla seen all the drawings in her walls and the writing in her notebooks and had she heard Galinda talk for hours and did she know that at three years old Galinda had proudly declared she was going to build the next Emerald City?

That was ridiculous. Galinda had many friends and she dreamed big, of course she would share those dreams with others. And this wasn’t anything new to Elphaba; it wasn’t the first time they bumped into someone Galinda knew, but never—never someone like this.

“Shiz is wonderful,” Galinda said, of course unaware of the storm brewing inside Elphaba.

“I’m sure it is,” said Milla. “But we do miss you over here. Some of us more than others.”

“Oh, Milla, you don’t mean that.” Galinda laughed, effortlessly poised, and reached out to swat Milla’s shoulder, a gesture too familiar for Elphaba’s liking. But with it, Galinda managed to free her hand from Milla’s grip. Not that Elphaba was still paying attention to that, of course. She was fine.

But her stomach was still in knots, and no matter how hard she tried to rationalize it, she couldn’t put her finger on why. What did it matter to her who Galinda used to spend her time with? She had no claim to Galinda. None.

Yet the thought of it—the image of Galinda laughing like that, spinning someone else across this dance floor, standing so close that another girl could smell her perfume—made Elphaba’s throat tighten.

She clenched her hands on her lap. This was bad. She needed to get out of here. There was a bubbling, simmering feeling building up all over her body and she knew what it was.

“So, Elphaba,” Milla said. “What do you study at Shiz?”

She seemed—unconcerned, somehow. Nonchalant. How come? Ah, Elphaba realized. It was the lights, most likely. They were low and hazy enough that the green could pass as just a trick of the eye.

“Sorcery,” Elphaba answered, blunt and flat. She hadn’t meant to sound curt, but the word came out like a hammer anyway.

“Oh! Really? Same as you?” She turned to Galinda. “I thought real sorcerers were all too rare nowadays.”

Galinda shrugged. “Sometimes you get lucky.”

“So that’s how you ended up as roommates, I imagine. I have to say I’m surprised, you’re not known for sharing, Galinda.”

“University changes people like you wouldn’t believe.”

“I’m sure.” Milla chuckled, and once again turned to Elphaba. Goodness, but what did she want now? Elphaba was tempted to join whatever conversation Galinda’s mothers were having with the other women just to escape this one. “And you get along so well you’ve let her drag you here for the summer?”

Elphaba dug her nails deeper into her palms. “Yes.”

“Oh you don’t talk much, do you? Are you shy? Don’t be, I’m merely just—”

“Please, Milla, don’t you go teasing her like that,” Galinda interjected smoothly, with a perfectly rehearsed, sweet little laugh. “She’s still getting used to Frottica, leave her alone. Tell me about you, how have you been?”

Milla clearly wasn’t going to waste the opportunity. She forgot all about Elphaba the clock tick Galinda’s attention was on her.

Elphaba didn’t blame her.

But it provided the perfect opening for leaving, and Elphaba wanted so desperately to leave. The new band was still tuning their instruments on stage, the occasional twang of strings and flat banging on drums grating on her nerves, not to mention the chatter—the endless, endless chatter—coming from the crowd and the women at the table.

And this Milla girl, most of all, just really annoyed Elphaba. Something about her voice, light and airy, was irritating.

Galinda spoke like that, too, sometimes. When she was hiding. When she was performing.

Elphaba began dragging her chair back to excuse herself, but before she could, Galinda’s hand was on her arm.

“Where are you going, Elphie?”

“Elphie?” Milla mouthed, but it went unnoticed.

“I’ll be right back,” Elphaba said quickly, the words tumbling out in a rush. “I’m just—” Her eyes fell on her empty glass. “I’m just going to refill this at the bar.”

“Why not wait for the waiter?”

What was happening? Why wouldn’t Galinda let her go?

Trying to diffuse the moment of tension, Milla said, “I can do that for you, I need to refill mine anyhow. What are you having?”

“I have no idea,” Elphaba said, because it was true. Galinda had ordered for her something she would like, and the drink was sour and fresh at the same time and it was perfect.

“You don’t look too well, Elphie,” Galinda said, eyes narrowing slightly, trying to study Elphaba.

Elphaba wiped the sweat from her palms onto her lap. “It’s fine. I’m fine. I can go by myself.”

The new band finally started playing.

The music made Elphaba wince—too loud—but it was drowned out by Milla’s excited little squeal as she jumped to her feet. Too loud, too. Would she ever shut up?

“We must dance to this! We simply must. Galinda, do you remember?”

“I don’t think—”

“You too, Elphaba,” Milla cut in before Galinda could finish, and she was looking at Elphaba. Genuinely, earnestly looking at her. “You too, of course! It’s going to be so fun, this band is great!”

The worst part was that Milla seemed so sincere. Elphaba detected no malice, just pure, unfiltered eagerness. It was troublesome. But of course, Milla couldn’t see Elphaba’s skin very well.

Galinda was also looking at Elphaba, her brows furrowed in concern. But there was something else there, too—waiting. Waiting for Elphaba to say something, do something, give her some kind of answer.

“You go ahead,” Elphaba said, forcing the words out, but her voice felt small, even to her. “I’m tired from our last bout.”

“Oh.” Galinda blinked. “It’s fine, I can just stay with you.”

Milla pulled on Galinda’s arm. “Come now, don’t be such a sourpuss! One song, please? Just one?”

“I don’t—”

“You should,” Elphaba said. “Don’t let me stop you.”

“You heard her.”

“But—” Galinda wouldn’t move from her chair, no matter how Milla clung to her. “Elphie—”

“Please go,” Elphaba said more quietly, hoping only Galinda could hear. “Please.”

It was too much. The music. The feeling. The chaos of it all. Her skin was clammy, sweat pooling on her back as she fought to keep it together. She needed fresh air. She needed space. She needed to breathe. But Galinda wouldn’t let her leave unless she was distracted, unless she was busy, unless she was entertained.

And Elphaba had to remember she was acting ridiculous. She didn’t own Galinda. She had no claim to her time or her attention, and most clearly not her affections.

She wished she did.

“Do you really want me to go?” Galinda whispered back to her.

“Yes,” Elphaba said tightly. “Go. She’s making a scene.”

Galinda pursed her lips together. She so hated when other people made scenes—back when Elphaba had made a scene at the Ozdust, Galinda had jumped in to save her.

“Go,” Elphaba repeated.

“I’ll be back in a clock tick, I promise,” Galinda whispered, and let Milla pull her to her feet and towards the crowd of dancers that was steadily growing bigger with the new band.

Elphaba exhaled sharply and rubbed her forehead, trying to quiet the thudding in her skull.

“Are you alright, honey?” Iliana leaned toward her, her voice laced with concern as she hovered over the chair Galinda had just vacated. Had she been watching the whole thing?

“I’m fine, I just need—” Elphaba swallowed, ready to say she needed air and ready to get up and leave, but she caught a glimpse of Galinda in the crowd, and the smile on her face, and once again Elphaba couldn’t look away.

It was just her luck that Iliana’s question had drawn the attention of every lady at the table.

“The music’s not to your taste?”

“It’s dreadful, really. Probably the worst night to attend—”

“You go to Shiz with little Galinda, yes?”

“Have you always been green?”

“Yes,” Elphaba blurted out, hands clenched into fists. “Yes, I’ve always—”

“Say, Marzie dear,” that was Kalena’s voice cutting through. She sounded so much like Galinda, sometimes. “I have a friend of a friend who mentioned your dear hubby was caught wandering about the Philosophy Club the other day—”

“What?”

Suddenly, Elphaba was once again demoted to unimportant.

“Come with me,” Iliana said gently. “Let’s step outside for a moment.”

Elphaba barely registered the words, nodding distractedly as she stood. The music grew louder, the heat in the room more stifling, and there were Galinda and Milla, laughing about something. They weren’t touching anymore, but they were laughing, and that was so much worse.

Elphaba wondered if Galinda danced with just any girl, and if she had danced with Milla before, and if Milla was one of the girls Galinda led through pretty mazes just to kiss them.

Why hadn’t Galinda kissed Elphaba, at that place?

A high-pitched sound rang in Elphaba’s ears, and she flinched, and something broke.

No—several somethings, actually.

The music cut off abruptly, replaced by patrons screaming and boots stomping, tables and chairs overturning, and glasses shattering on the floor.

But none of that could compete with the chaos as dozens of bottles at the back of the bar exploded.

Elphaba exhaled sharply, wrung out, watching in horror as the bottles burst, liquor flying and shards of glass scattering in every direction. The shelves tore from their hinges and crashed in heaps. The waiters dove for cover, and the rest of the room erupted in panic.

Magic still sizzled at the edges of her fingertips.

“What in the—?”

Elphaba bolted.

Chapter Text

Elphaba wasn’t the only one who ran. A panicked ruckus erupted as people rushed toward the exits, some crying out that they were under attack. It must have seemed that way—like a bomb had just detonated in their midst.

In the chaos, Elphaba pushed her way through the crowd, gulping in ragged breaths. The violent expulsion of magic had hollowed out a space in her chest, easing the pressure, but now nothing except cold dread rushed in to fill that vacancy.

How could she be so stupid? What was wrong with her? She’d ruined a perfectly fine evening—and for what? Why?

Stumbling blindly away from the lights and crowds, Elphaba ducked into a narrow alleyway. The rough brick scraped against her back as she pressed herself against the wall, trying to steady her breathing. Her hands were shaking.

Less than a month. That’s all it had taken to ruin her time in Frottica. To ruin Galinda’s time.

To ruin their friendship, most likely.

Maybe she should have gone to Munchkinland after all. She should have boarded that boat with Nessa. She should never have accepted Galinda’s invitation. Why had Galinda even offered? Pity, most likely, nothing else. What did Elphaba ever receive but pity and disdain? Why had she deluded herself into thinking this time would be different? She wasn’t meant for this world of parties and dances; and she had lost sight of who she was.

How could she ever allow herself to think—?

“Elphie? Is that you?”

“Galinda.” Elphaba exhaled sharply, squeezing her eyes shut. “Go away.”

“I’m not going away,” Galinda said gently. “Are you alright? Did you get hurt?”

“Did I get hurt?” Elphaba decided to look at her, though with Galinda framed by distant streetlight, she could make out little more than a silhouette. “I think you ought to ask that to the people in the vicinity.”

“I don’t care about the people in the vicinity, I care about you.” Galinda stepped into the alleyway, into the shadows, and looked all the more real for it. “My parents worried about you, too.”

“Did you get hurt?” asked Elphaba. “Did they?”

Galinda shook her head, her curls catching what little light filtered into their hiding place. “No, we were all too far away. What happened?”

“There was a bomb?”

“Elphie.”

“I don’t know,” Elphaba muttered, dropping her gaze to the cobblestones. “I don’t know what came over me. I’m sorry.”

But she did know. She knew perfectly well.

“No one knows it was you,” said Galinda. “No one other than my mother, Elphie. You’re perfectly safe.”

Elphaba’s head snapped back up. “How did you know it was me? Did she tell you?”

Galinda met her gaze. “I know your magic.”

That was when Elphaba realized her hands were still trembling. She clenched them into fists. “I made a mess of things.”

“You did.” Galinda leaned against the wall next to her, looking wildly out of place in this cramped alleyway with her pretty dress and high heels. “But you also gave me an opening to leave a very awkward situation, so thank you.”

Elphaba chuckled humorlessly. “It looked like you were having fun.”

“Well, I was trying to be polite. I wouldn’t say I was having fun.” Galinda glanced sideways at her, eyes searching Elphaba’s face. “Please tell me what happened. You haven’t had a problem like that with your magic since Doctor Dillamond.”

“I almost had one on my first day here.”

“I know, but—” She bit her lip, her eyebrows drawn down in concern. “I just want to help.”

“I know. I just—” I got angry.

But what, exactly, did that mean?

If Iliana was right, and anger told Elphaba where things were going wrong, then she had to assume Galinda giving attention to that girl had been where everything went wrong. But why? Why had that angered her so? It wasn’t the first time Galinda interacted with a friend who wasn’t Elphaba so—

Except that Milla wasn’t just Galinda’s friend.

Oh, Oz. Elphaba was jealous.

“Um. Elphie?”

“What?” Elphaba snapped, then blinked. She heard the sharpness in her own voice and winced. “Sorry. What?”

“You just looked like you were in deep thought about something.”

“I’m just—trying to get my bearings.”

“Come with me, then.”

“What?”

“We shouldn’t stay here.”

“I’m not sure if I want to go back—”

“We won’t go home,” Galinda said, glancing toward the street. “But really, two young ladies in an alleyway at night? We’re just asking for trouble. Follow me.”

It took Elphaba a clock tick to follow her, because Galinda simply walked ahead of her—without reaching for her. No interlocked fingers, no arm linked through hers, no casual touch at her elbow guiding her along.

It felt wrong. It felt empty.

How drastically things had changed between them. At the start of the school year, Elphaba had cursed the circumstances that forced her to share a room with Galinda, and now she was so desperate for Galinda to hold her hand she wanted to cry.

What a terrible day.

And what a terrible realization.

“Where are we going?” she asked. They walked along a promenade beside a canal, entirely deserted but well-lit, the pale yellow glow of the streetlights dancing across the dark, still surface of the water.

The summer breeze carried a gentle warmth, muffling the voices from the commotion they’d left behind. Elphaba drew in a deep breath, trying to wrestle her treacherous heart under control. She had ruined everything, hadn’t she? Surely, this was the beginning of the end. That must be why Galinda wasn’t touching her anymore.

“You can’t tell where we are?” Galinda asked, a slight grin playing at the corners of her lips. “I suppose we’ve been here just the once. Look.”

Up ahead stood a familiar tailor shop.

“We can spend some time there until you’re ready to go back home,” said Galinda. “I intended for us to take a walk after all the bands were done, but now I’m not so sure. That ruckus ought to bring unsavory attention to the area and I don’t want any constables stopping us to ask questions.”

“You wanted to take me on a walk?”

Galinda sighed, the sound quiet but weighted, as if the simple question pained her. “Yes.”

They approached the back door they had used to leave that very first day. Elphaba took a moment to steady herself, grounding her thoughts. She was about to leave the open air and had to be careful. She couldn’t risk another episode.

It helped not to look at Galinda, because all Elphaba could think about when her eyes were on her was how beautiful she looked under the streetlights, how the warm glow softened her features, and how unfair it all was. So that wasn’t good.

“You have the keys?”

“I don’t need a key,” Galinda said. She simply placed her hand on the doorknob, which turned for her without resistance. There was a faint wisp of energy in the air afterwards. “It opens for us Uplands. Momsicle will be alerted, too, so she’ll know we’re safe. Come on in but do mind your step—it’s dark.”

“Very convenient.”

After some fumbling, Galinda found the light switch, illuminating her mother’s impeccably organized office.

“I’m surprised you haven’t brought me back here since we arrived.”

“I always intended to,” Galinda said. “But I wanted it to be empty for that. So follow me.”

Elphaba’s hand twitched at her side. She almost reached for her—but couldn’t.

The shop transformed when empty, illuminated only by the warm glow of light fixtures rather than sunlight streaming through windows. It remained as vast as Elphaba remembered, with countless racks, shelves, and supplies, but without the bustle of people she could finally appreciate its meticulous organization.

Galinda guided her through the space, explaining how they separated fabrics by type and weight, organized styles by season and occasion, and arranged the countless other intricacies of their inventory system. Elphaba listened, nodding occasionally and loving the rhythm of her voice, all while wondering if things could truly go back to normal between them.

Because this was normal. Galinda talking non-stop, gesturing animatedly, smiling at her, calling her Elphie and laughing way too loud at jokes that weren’t funny.

Except she wouldn’t touch Elphaba anymore.

Was Galinda scared of her? Or was Elphaba being too obvious now? Were her feelings already starting to slip through the cracks? Was it evident that when Elphaba looked at her, all she could think about was the rush of joy when they held hands or stood too close or shared moments that belonged only to them?

Maybe it was. Maybe she was obvious. Maybe Galinda could see and didn’t like what she saw.

“And, lastly, this—” Galinda gestured toward a massive mirror with an ornate golden frame that reached nearly to the ceiling. “—is why we’re all the rave on this side of the Gillikin River. Have a look.”

“It’s a mirror,” Elphaba said, trying to keep sourness out of her voice. “I know what I look like.”

“Just stand in front of it and don’t argue with me.”

So Elphaba stood in front of the mirror and didn’t argue with Galinda. There she was. The nice clothes Galinda had so lovingly picked out, her hair half-up and half-down, her mouth painted dark, her skin.

There was Elphaba. Elphaba Thropp after messing up the most important thing in her life. It was a wonder she was standing at all.

Galinda positioned herself beside her, resplendent in her yellow dress, not a curl out of place, and that damn gloss that made her lips seem so enticing. Now Elphaba understood why she couldn’t stop looking at her—and the realization made her stomach churn.

And, more importantly, she understood why the thought of Galinda kissing other girls had been so unbearable. She wanted Galinda to be kissing her.

Talk about a pointless infatuation. Elphaba would have been better off never realizing the truth. Girls like Galinda were not for girls like Elphaba to want.

“What am I supposed to be looking at?” asked Elphaba.

“Mhm. You’re not—look at my reflection.”

Supremely difficult to do without feeling like she was on fire, but alright, Elphaba did.

And she saw firsthand how Galinda’s dress changed colors.

She blinked, gaze darting between the real Galinda in her yellow dress and the reflection wearing midnight blue. Exact same dress, identical cut and style, yet completely different.

“What in Oz’s name?”

“Impressive, yes?” Galinda giggled, and did a twirl. “And look.” She furrowed her brow slightly in concentration, and Elphaba stared at the reflection with every ounce of focus she possessed. “Do you see?”

“What exactly—?”

“The hem, Elphie, the hem.”

Elphaba glanced back and forth between reality and reflection several times before she caught it—yes, the hemline in the mirror fell just a tad lower. Subtle, but there.

“It makes everything so much more convenient,” Galinda explained, her voice warm with pride. “Clients don’t have to go back and forth over what they want, since their ideas can become real right in front of their eyes. And if they don’t like it, well—” The dress changed again, this time a soft purple, and then again to a bolder red. “It’s so easy to switch.”

“And your mother enchanted this?”

“That’s right. It’s an Iliana Upland original. Give it a spin.”

“How do I—?”

“It’ll show you what you want,” Galinda said. “So visualize your clothes changing—but be warned it only does minor adjustments like length or fit, and color of course.”

Elphaba concentrated, tensing as if preparing to cast a spell—but that wasn’t necessary. Clearly the mirror was designed for everyone’s use, including those less magically inclined. The moment Elphaba imagined her pinstriped jacket as plain black, the change materialized in her reflection.

“Oh, great work!” Galinda chuckled. Her tone was light, teasing, like everything was fine again. “But black is so boring. Think of something else. Something fun, like—”

“Don’t say pink.”

“Pink.”

On cue, because Elphaba couldn’t not think of it now that it was mentioned, her jacket turned pink. No, not just the jacket. Her entire outfit. The boots, the slacks, the tie, the very air around her now feeling offensively pastel.

Galinda dissolved into a vicious fit of giggles.

“Hell,” Elphaba grumbled, trying to will her clothes back to normal—but no luck. She was too amused, too distracted by the sound of Galinda’s laughter. It was Galinda’s favorite shade of pink, too, that light and girlish pastel, and it would not go away.

“Oh my goodness.” Galinda was still laughing. “Elphie, you look absolutely delightful. God, I cannot.”

“Stop laughing.” But Elphaba was laughing too. It felt nice to laugh with her again.

“It shows you what you want! So—I mean, clearly—wait, let me see you.”

She finally, blessedly, touched Elphaba. Hands on her shoulders, firm but light, spinning her so they faced each other—though her gaze remained on the mirror.

Elphaba only looked at her.

The real Galinda standing before her, so warm and so close. Elphaba gulped. She had never, in her life, wanted so badly to have someone else’s hands on her. How odd. No one had ever touched her nearly as much as Galinda did, so in truth Elphaba never knew what she was missing.

But she didn’t think it was that at all. It felt so monumental and pleasant only because it was Galinda.

And because Elphaba was in love with her, apparently.

There was a faint wisp of energy in the air, a subtle disturbance like heat rising off pavement. Elphaba caught the movement of Galinda’s throat as she swallowed hard, her breath hitching as though something had knocked the air from her lungs.

Frowning, Elphaba turned to the mirror, sensing her own damn magic at play again. But softer than before, more like—

Her stomach dropped.

Their reflections weren’t—showing reality at all.

There was mirror-Elphaba, leaning forward with impossible confidence, cradling mirror-Galinda’s face between her hands.

Kissing her.

Elphaba staggered back so violently she nearly lost her balance. The illusion shattered, dissolving in an instant. She inhaled sharply, trembling with the effort to regain control, and saw that Galinda was staring at her, lips parted, chest rising and falling rapidly—her gaze so intense, so knowing.

“I don’t know what that was,” Elphaba said, forcing her voice to stay even. Measured. Normal. She took a step back. Then another. “That was—strange. Did you even see—?”

“I definitely saw it.” Galinda’s voice was even more measured. “The mirror shows you what you want.”

“I thought you said—it was for clothes.”

“That’s what it normally does, yes.” Her gaze flickered, studying Elphaba. “But magic doesn’t act normal when you’re around.”

Elphaba shut her eyes—just for a moment. A single act of cowardice. No more. She had never run from anything before, never shied away from the truth, and she wouldn’t start now. Not even with this. Not even if it terrified her.

She looked at Galinda, deliberately expecting nothing. A tactic she had mastered since childhood—having no expectations meant she couldn’t be disappointed, and thus couldn’t be hurt.

If Galinda rebuked her now, though, she would be hurt no matter what.

But Galinda, dear, beautiful Galinda, was looking at her with such profound fondness. “I’m not upset,” she began. “Can I come closer?”

“Since when do you ask?”

“It’s just—I don’t want you to run away. You did that once and I never quite got over it.”

Alright, fine. Maybe there had been one instance in which Elphaba ran away from something scary. She was only human, she wasn’t above such things.

“I won’t run away,” Elphaba said, her voice steadier than she felt. “The door won’t open for me, anyhow.”

“Well, it would.” Galinda inched closer, slow and deliberate, while Elphaba stood unnaturally still. “If you were an Upland.”

“But I’m not.”

Galinda closed the last bit of distance until she was right in front of her—close enough to touch, close enough to hold.

She smiled. Soft. Amused. Entirely unshaken. “I was going to say something exceptionally corny, but I won’t because you’re looking mortified. What’s wrong, Elphie?”

“I’m—I’m sorry,” said Elphaba. “I didn’t know the mirror would show that.”

“You must’ve really wanted to—”

“Stop. Ah. Please.”

“Elphie, we must talk about this.”

“We absolutely must not.”

“But—”

“Really.” Elphaba, her entire life, had thought herself above things such as pleading. She never asked anything of anyone. And yet, there was no other word to describe the desperate note that had crept into her tone. “We don’t have to—I didn’t mean to make things weird. I don’t want us to change just because of what that thing showed us.”

“Darling, it’s alright,” Galinda said quietly, her smile never wavering. “You’re not capable of making things weird—”

“You clearly don’t know me very well.”

Galinda laughed. “Tell me—what happened back at the dancehall? Why did you make all those bottles explode?”

Elphaba exhaled heavily. “No reason. I just do that when I’m bored; the band was terrible.”

“Elphaba.”

Her full name almost made her flinch, but she kept her mouth shut. If she didn’t react, maybe Galinda would let it go.

“Was it because of Milla?”

Well. So much for that.

“Yes—no.”

“Elphie, please don’t lie to me.”

She was back to Elphie. That had to be a good sign, right?

“It was,” Elphaba admitted. “Sorry I ruined your fun, it really wasn’t my intention.”

“I told you I wasn’t having ‘fun.’ Milla is nice, but she’s not you.”

“She’s—what does that have to do with anything?”

“Elphaba Thropp, you absolutely clueless, gorgeous fool.”

“I—what?”

Galinda huffed, shaking her head in disbelief. “This is the part where I kiss you, Elphie, but I know you’ve never kissed anyone so I don’t want to do it without asking. Can I? May I? May I please kiss you? If I had the power to alter the mirror like you, you would’ve seen us kissing as soon as we stepped into its view. So. There is that. It’s out there. Now you know. Wow, I can’t believe I said that, my mothers will be so proud.”

Elphaba heard things as if from a great distance. “What are you talking about?”

“I’m in love with you, you idiot!”

“You are?”

“And I’ve been trying to tell you for months now! For months, Elphie!”

“Trying? How have you been trying?”

“Listen, Elphie, my Elphie, my darling, my love, my dear wonderful Elphie—If I don’t kiss you right now, I’ll end up punching you. So what will it be?”

“Kiss me,” Elphaba said, breathless.

And so Galinda did.

Elphaba barely had time to prepare—not that she knew how one prepared for something like this.

Galinda grabbed her face, funnily enough in the same way Elphaba’s reflection had done, and leaned in all at once, as if she couldn’t wait. Always so eager, so excitable, so ready to take the things she wanted as soon as she was given an opportunity. Elphaba’s heart melted. She loved her.

It would be a great moment to recount in the future, how Elphaba had realized she loved Galinda the brief clock tick before they kissed for the first time.

She closed her eyes, because that’s what you did, right? So when Galinda’s lips pressed against hers, the sensation still took her by surprise. And—Oz save her—her heart reformed just to thunder wildly inside her chest.

Was it supposed to be this warm? This soft? This tender?

Elphaba froze, her hands awkwardly hovering near Galinda’s sides, unsure where to place them. She must be doing this wrong; she had to be doing this wrong. Was her mouth supposed to stay still? Should she move? How?

“I don’t know what I’m doing,” she mumbled against Galinda’s lips, like a boor, but she was never one to hold back her words once they wanted to escape.

Galinda laughed, uncaring, thumb brushing against Elphaba’s jawline. “You don’t have to know, Elphie, just feel. You’re doing perfectly.”

Feel. That was easier said than done when every nerve in her body was electrified down to her pulse, which felt like a violent attack inside her veins. But Galinda was still there, waiting, patient, and so impossibly close.

Elphaba swallowed thickly, blinking up at Galinda, who looked at her with more trust and affection than Elphaba thought she deserved. Slowly, she let her hands settle on Galinda’s waist. That was fine, right? She had touched her there before, even tonight when they danced.

Galinda smiled—smiled—as though Elphaba’s clumsy mannerisms were the most endearing thing she’d ever seen. “That’s it,” she whispered, her breath warm against Elphaba’s skin.

And when their lips met again, softer this time, Elphaba did feel.

It was better than the first time, somehow. Elphaba’s eyes fluttered shut, and she let herself lean into it, moving by instinct, guided by Galinda who was always so sure, who didn’t have a problem making Elphaba the sole center of her world.

She exhaled shakily against Galinda’s mouth, and when she felt Galinda smile into the kiss, Elphaba couldn’t stop the strange little chuckle that bubbled out of her. They broke apart just far enough to breathe, and to laugh.

“I’m clumsy, aren’t I?”

“Elphie, you’re the most perfect girl in the world.”

Elphaba could die.

“You pretty thing.” Galinda sighed, running her thumbs over Elphaba’s cheekbones. “I’ve been wanting to do that for ages.”

“Really? How long?”

“From the moment I laid eyes on you.”

Elphaba snorted. “Please.”

“I’m not lying!”

“You think you’re so romantic, and so good at it, don’t you?”

“Well, I always manage to get my way—” She held Elphaba’s chin with two fingers, blinking so very slowly. “No exceptions, even if this took me way longer than usual.”

Elphaba breathed out a laugh. “You’re terrifying. This is terrifying, too.”

Galinda also laughed, delighted. “You’re ridiculously adorable, Elphie. It’s not terrifying, it’s us.”

Elphaba opened her mouth to argue—but then Galinda kissed her again, all soft lips and charming conviction, and Elphaba realized she didn’t want to argue at all. Arguing was for idiots who didn’t have pretty girls kissing them so sweetly.

Elphaba found that, no matter what she did, her hands wouldn’t stop trembling. But it wasn’t fear; it was more overwhelming than that. A kind of joy so enormous it almost hurt, a joy she didn’t quite know how to carry.

When Galinda finally pulled back, her lips lingering just a breath away, Elphaba slowly opened her eyes, as though waking from a dream. She was sure her face would burn like this forever.

“All good, Elphie?” Galinda asked, voice still so soft. She smelled so wonderful despite the long night, still like flowers. Even that stupid gloss had an aftertaste of strawberry. Elphaba’s head spun with the knowledge that Galinda had dozens of different lip glosses and lipsticks and— “Elphie?”

“I think—” Elphaba swallowed thickly. “I think you may have broken me.”

Galinda giggled, and somehow the sound danced along Elphaba’s skin. “I beg your pardon?”

“You’ve just rendered me—inoperable. I’m going to have to sit down.”

“You’re standing perfectly fine,” Galinda teased, even as her hands moved to Elphaba’s arms, steadying her.

“Not for long.” Elphaba was half-joking, but truthfully, her knees felt more wobbly than they ever had.

“Let’s sit, then.”

Galinda seemed incapable of not smiling. She gently led Elphaba to one of those benches people used when waiting for staff to fetch something. It was surprisingly comfortable, and the two of them sat impossibly close, Galinda’s knee brushing against Elphaba’s, their hands intertwined atop their laps.

“Tell me what’s on your mind,” Galinda said, brushing back the hair that fell over Elphaba’s shoulder.

“It’s—mm. I never thought that I’d—that we’d—that you’d—”

“Alright, that’s enough eloquence for the night.” Galinda chuckled. “Sorry, I’ll let you compose yourself.”

Elphaba glanced at their hands, at the way they were sitting so close—it wasn’t much different than how they always sat, but it was so fundamentally different now. Elphaba felt as if her entire body was aflame, burning even more intensely wherever Galinda touched her.

“I don’t know that I’ll ever compose myself.”

“Hey, I promise I’m not faring much better.”

“You’re not?” Elphaba frowned. “You very much look like you are.”

“Someone has to have the nerve in this relationship, Elphie.”

This what?

“This what?”

“Oh, please. Do you think I go around kissing just anyone? I intend to court you properly—though I’ve been doing that for months, you just haven’t noticed.”

“What in Oz are you talking about?” Elphaba’s frown deepened. “It’s the second time you say something like that.”

Galinda’s eyes lit up. “A chance to explain! Wonderful, let’s see—” She cleared her throat. “First of all, I am always taking you on outings with just the two of us. I’ve been dragging you up and down to the most romantic places this city has to offer. Why, we’ve been going on dates this entire time we’ve been here in Frottica!”

“Now wait a clock tick—”

“We have been. I took you to that maze because I wanted to kiss you, but then you figured it out and I got embarrassed.”

“Oh. So was the—?”

“The only girl it didn’t work on? Was it you?” Galinda said flatly. “Congratulations, Elphie.”

“Oh, Oz.”

“And,” Galinda went on, counting points on her delicate fingers, “I put more effort into how I look when you’re around—to which you are completely immune, much to my utter dismay and desolation.”

“Immune?” The noise that came out of Elphaba was probably not considered human, it was a sort of low-pitched keen that was somewhere between a laugh and a groan. “No, believe me, I am not immune.”

“You certainly act like it!” Galinda huffed. “Not to mention, I am constantly holding your hand or your arm and trying to make you laugh. And—”

“Hold on,” Elphaba said. “That’s just what friends do.”

“I can promise you it is not.”

“But—”

“Oz, I asked you to sleep in my damn bed! And we are constantly cuddling on the couch and I told you I loved it when you played with my hair! And I told you you were my favorite person! Which you are, of course.”

Elphaba blinked, and as she let the words wash over her she felt uneasy and liberated in a way that was entirely contradictory. Galinda liked her. Galinda had said—

“You’re really in love with me.”

“Oh, you torture me,” Galinda said with a theatrical sigh. “You do, you torment me and you’re in my every thought. I am in love with you. So desperately in love with you.”

How could Elphaba ever hope to have an answer to that? Desperately? Galinda desperately in love with her? It felt like a prank, somehow. A cruel joke from the universe, dangling in front of Elphaba something she had never allowed herself to want, telling her it was alright to want it, only to snatch it away at the last second.

Surely now would be the part where she woke up.

“But never mind all that,” Galinda went on. “What about you?” There was no heat behind her words, just a very intense sort of amusement. Everything Galinda did was intense.

“Me?”

“W-well some of the things you say!” She was blushing now. Blushing because of Elphaba—what a bewildering concept. “You said I looked like I stepped out of a dream!”

“Well,” Elphaba stammered out. “You do.”

“See what I mean?” Galinda sighed dramatically. “You’re terrible. Terrible! Because you’re good at this and you don’t even realize! Oh, Elphie, you’re horrendous for my health. You’ve bewitched me with your charms, I think of nothing but you, and nothing but kissing you—and it was so very hard to figure out if you felt the same way. And I tried to tell you several times and the world wasn’t on my side!

”So I orchestrated tonight—I didn’t think we’d end up here, but rather in that nice walkway by the canals, and I would take a risk and tell you. I was willing to be rejected by you. Rejected! Me! You can’t begin to know what I’ve been through these past months. What you’ve put me through!”

“I’m sorry,” Elphaba rushed to say, her hand tightening around Galinda’s. “I—I didn’t know. I never know. How could I know? I—romance is just not something I ever thought would happen to me.”

“Elphie—”

“I never let myself think about it,” she continued, words tumbling out faster than she could control them. “What was the point of dreaming of what could never be? It hurt, and I hated the idea of hurting over something so—so trivial, almost. Those things aren’t meant for someone like me. You are not meant for someone like me, you shouldn’t want—” Elphaba clamped her mouth shut, wounded by her own words. What was wrong with her? She had always known this was her reality, so why did it hurt so much to say it now?

Because now she had had a glimpse of something different, something better than the cruel truths she always told herself. And she couldn’t bear the thought of letting it slip away.

For a moment, Galinda just stared at her, expression unreadable. Then, to Elphaba’s complete surprise, she leaned in close—close enough that the tip of their noses touched.

Elphaba blushed so hard she even felt heat gather in the points of her ears, but she didn’t dare move away. She was held captive by Galinda’s proximity.

“Elphaba,” she said, her voice surprisingly sharp. “I want you. Only you.”

Elphaba’s eyes went wide. “You—”

“I’m being direct as I should’ve been from the start,” Galinda said. “And I’m telling you the truth. I am meant for you. I’m in love with you.”

Oz, but that did make Elphaba feel better. How could she hear those words and see Galinda’s eyes so steady and do anything but believe her?

“I want to kiss you again,” Galinda said simply, though her voice was still so firm. “Can I?”

Elphaba nodded, in a daze. Kissing Galinda grew easy way too quickly. It felt different, this time, slower. Elphaba recognized the intent was only to put her at ease, and it worked.

“Better?”

Elphaba breathed against her. Those damn flowers. “Yes. Thank you. I am—sorry I completely missed all your advances. It must’ve been irritating.”

“Honestly? A little.” Galinda’s previous intensity mellowed, and she laughed. “But mostly it was fun, and most important of all we got to spend a lot of time together, which is what I wanted anyhow. Oh, but don’t think you’re off the hook—we’ll spend even more time together now.” Galinda beamed at her, bright as sunlight. “Lucky for you, I’ve decided you’re stuck with me.”

“Lucky for me,” Elphaba echoed faintly.

“I want to tell you so very many things,” Galinda sighed softly, one finger trailing the curve of Elphaba’s jaw. “Will you let me tell you you’re beautiful?”

Elphaba gulped. “Only if you mean it.”

Galinda made a quiet, wounded sound, her fingers pressing just a little more firmly against Elphaba’s jaw, anchoring her in place. “Elphie,” she said, her voice heavy with sincerity, sending a shiver through Elphaba. “How could you ever think I wouldn’t?”

Elphaba could only stare, trapped in the depth of Galinda’s brown, brown eyes, unable to look away.

“You’re beautiful,” Galinda said, slowly, planting each word decidedly into the air between them, leaving no room for doubt. “Not just when you’re wearing the lipstick I picked or when you let me dress you up like my favorite doll—though, I do love that too.” She smiled, as if indulging in the thought for just a second before sobering again.

Elphaba swallowed, her throat tight with emotion.

“But you are always so beautiful. I can never stop thinking about you and your smile—Oz, your smile—and I want to kiss you all the time and I want to hold your hand all the time and give you things, because you’re so wonderfully splendid and you’re so smart, and funny, and kind, and pretty. And, Elphie—” her voice dropped to a tender whisper “—you were beautiful long before I ever fell for you. And you’ll still be beautiful long after.”

There was no hope for Elphaba. She would never let this girl go—and as soon as she remembered how to speak, she would tell her.

Galinda traced Elphaba’s cheekbone with her thumb, eyes soft. “And I plan to tell you every day until you believe it.” She studied Elphaba’s face with cautious optimism. “Do you believe me?”

“I—” Elphaba’s voice was barely audible. “I—really want to. I’m trying.”

“Good thing I’m not going anywhere then.” Galinda smiled, leaning in to press their foreheads together. “I’m quite stubborn, you know. And quite determined. And quite in love with you.”

“You keep saying that.”

“Because it’s true! Because I want you to hear it. Because I’ve wanted to tell you for so long that now I can’t seem to stop.” She pulled back just enough to meet Elphaba’s eyes again. “Is that alright?”

Elphaba nodded, not trusting her voice. Everything felt too big, too wonderful.

“Good,” Galinda whispered, then grinned.

“Good,” Elphaba repeated, exhaling long and shaky through her nose—a laugh bubbling past her lips. “Thank you.”

Galinda chuckled too. “Darling, there isn’t a single thing you should be thanking me for.”

“There’s plenty. And am I not allowed to feel grateful?”

“That’s the Elphie I know.” Her fingertips traced from Elphaba’s cheekbone to her temple, where a stray strand of braids had fallen from the little updo at the back. “Contrarian just for the sake of it. It makes you beautiful, too.”

“Alright now,” Elphaba said, her evergrowing case of blushing bordering on terminal. “You can stop.”

“I don’t believe I want to.”

“I have a question.” Elphaba pulled back a little further, just to get a better look at her. Galinda was also blushing, red splotches blooming on the higher angles of her cheeks and on the tip of her nose, but her eyes were calm, her expression serene, as if this was everything she had ever wanted.

“Anything.”

Elphaba cleared her throat, fiddled with the hand that was holding Galinda’s. “Was all of this—bringing me here to Frottica in the first place, I mean—just a way for you to try and seduce me?”

Now Galinda fully laughed, her eyes closing momentarily. Elphaba could get used to being this close to her face all the time, it allowed her to see Galinda’s expressions in such delightful detail.

“No, of course not,” Galinda said, reopening her eyes. “Though I like the way your mouth moves when you say ‘seduce me.’”

Elphaba laughed right along with her. “So it wasn’t part of your plan to—” She paused briefly, amused by the twinkle in Galinda’s eyes. “—to do that thing I just said?”

“Ow, you are terrible.” Galinda poked her with a finger, still chuckling under her breath. “But no, Elphie, it wasn’t all part of my plan. I really, genuinely, wanted you to have a good summer. Though, I must say, watching you discover all these new things, seeing you let yourself enjoy things...” She bit her lip, the gesture drawing Elphaba’s gaze. “It certainly didn’t help matters.”

“Didn’t help what?”

“My ever-growing desire to kiss you senseless.” Galinda’s eyes sparkled like stars. “You’re quite distracting when you’re happy, you know.”

It seemed Elphaba’s body would never return to its normal state, she was still so flustered. “I—I am?”

“Absolutely, positively devastating.” Galinda nodded solemnly. “How many times must I say that you’ve thoroughly, completely captivated me? And from the moment we met! Seriously, Elphie, it’s hardly fair!”

“You’re ridiculous,” Elphaba said softly, but she couldn’t stop smiling.

Was this how it was going to be with Galinda, from now on? Had she had a filter all this time, afraid that Elphaba would react badly to her praise? Because, Oz, letting herself be showered in adoration was easily the best thing Elphaba had ever done.

“I am,” Galinda said, “ridiculously in love with you.”

“Stop it.”

Galinda giggled. “No, I shan’t. You like it! Oh, this is wonderful. You like me!”

“I’d have thought that was quite apparent.” Elphaba still smiled at her. “And you were wrong just now, when you said I didn’t have anything to thank you for. I have this whole summer to thank you for, I don’t know that I’ve ever been as happy.”

The words made Galinda’s eyes twinkle again. She pulled Elphaba to her feet, still giggling, that lovely red blush dusting down her neck. And when Elphaba’s eyes followed the path of it, she couldn’t help but linger on Galinda’s exposed shoulders, her delicate collarbones. She swallowed hard.

“It’s been a great summer for me too,” Galinda said, pulling her toward the back exit once again. “Simply the best, Elphie! I’ve been so happy every day. And no matter how much you tried me, I really wouldn’t change a thing.”

“Nor would I,” Elphaba admitted, and Galinda’s fingers laced through hers just a little tighter.

“Well.” Galinda looked at her over her shoulder, as she was still tugging Elphaba along, her smile turning mischievous. “Except for one thing.”

Elphaba raised a brow. “And that would be?”

“I would’ve kissed you sooner.”

“Oh,” Elphaba said faintly, barely having time to register the words before Galinda leaned in again, catching her lips with her own, soft and sure and everything Elphaba had never dared to want.

She wanted it now. She wanted this.

Because Elphaba had changed tremendously in the span of this half-summer. More than changed, she had learned. She had discovered more about herself than she ever thought possible—or perhaps that was just what growing was, and she had grown into who she was always meant to be; here in this city she never would’ve visited without Galinda, with people who welcomed her as if they had always known her.

Elphaba wasn’t just learning to feel nice, or to have fun. She was learning, at last, to be loved.

Galinda giggled as she pulled away from the kiss, the sound light and airy, like wind chimes swaying in the breeze. “And we have so much time ahead of us! There’s still a whole month left of summer, you know! Come on. Let’s go home.”

Home. The word settled deep inside Elphaba’s chest, weightless and warm.

“Alright.” She squeezed Galinda’s hand. “Let’s go home.”

They made it home like they were drunk, hand in hand, giggling and stumbling because they insisted on walking together as close as humanly possible, Galinda now with Elphaba’s jacket thrown over her shoulders.

Elphaba’s tie had come undone at one point, and as they made it past the front door Galinda looped a hand in the silk, and brought her closer. It was one of the many, many clumsy kisses they had shared tonight, more laughter than a proper kiss.

“Finally back,” Galinda mumbled against her, and kicked off her heels and returned herself to her normal height, now shorter than Elphie in her boots. She did not let go of the tie.

Elphie was giddy, Galinda could practically taste it on her lips, and she was growing more daring by the second, letting her hands wander across Galinda’s shoulders, her back, her hips. It was all tentative and shy, as if she were teaching herself. She was so cute.

Galinda pressed her against the nearest wall, and had to use all of her self-control not to kiss her senseless. She didn’t want to be overwhelming, even though she was sure she was far more overwhelmed by Elphaba than the other way around.

Either way Galinda was careful when she kissed her again, and she was teaching herself something, too, because she had never been this close to someone she felt so strongly about, and she knew Elphaba had never been this close to anyone at all.

“Do you still want to share a room?” Galinda asked softly, their noses almost touching.

“Not like there’s a choice? We are roommates.”

Galinda snorted. “I meant here, not at Shiz.”

“Why would this—” Elphaba held her tighter about the waist, trying to emphasize her point “—make me not want to sleep in your room?”

“I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

“I’ve already been sleeping in your bed for days.”

“But it’s going to be different now, you realize?” Galinda let her hands trail down, running the length of Elphaba’s arms over her nice dress shirt. “Because we’re different.”

“Are you telling me you won’t be able to keep your hands to yourself?”

Galinda grinned. “Maybe.”

“You already never did that.”

“Elphie, you have no idea how much worse I can get.”

“Mm. I can’t make a decision if I have no idea. You’ll have to show me—and you’ll have to stop holding back.”

“How’d you know I was?” Galinda chuckled.

Elphaba shrugged. “I know you well enough by now.”

Oh this was great. This was all Galinda had ever wanted, and more. She intertwined her hand with Elphaba’s and tugged her along, away from the parlor and into the living room so they could get upstairs—

The lights were on in the living room—she hadn’t noticed.

Galinda froze in the entryway, Elphaba bumping into her from behind, her arm instinctively curling about Galinda’s waist, and her jacket still on Galinda’s shoulders.

“Good evening,” Momsie said, lounging on the couch with a glass of wine and a burgundy robe thrown over her nightgown. “You made it.”

Momsicle was there, too, though she was standing with the wine bottle and an empty glass as if she’d been caught just before pouring. She was dressed in a similar ensemble, but she seemed nonchalant and simply looked down, almost ignoring Galinda and Elphaba. “Pay up, dearest.”

Ah. Right.

“Technically.” Galinda cleared her throat, refusing to blush. “It’s past midnight, so the month is over. So—”

Momsie laughed. “Hah! I always knew I was your favorite.”

“I don’t have a favorite, the nerve! You’re both very precious to me and—”

But Galinda’s valiant defense was thoroughly ignored. “You pay up, dearest.”

“What’s happening?” Elphaba asked.

“Nothing,” said Momsicle—she had that frown on her face, deeply annoyed by losing on a technicality. She was always the most competitive. “Just some friendly competition between parents. Nothing to worry about.”

Elphaba turned to look at Galinda, one eyebrow raised in silent question. Her arm remained curled around Galinda’s waist, casual in a way that was both ridiculously attractive and, in its own way, quite touching—proof that Elphaba was comfortable here.

Galinda sighed. “They bet to see how long it’d take us to get together.”

“Oh.”

“We’re very happy for you two!” Momsie said happily. “Please don’t misunderstand our little fun, Elphaba—Elphie. Can I call you Elphie, too?”

“But that’s what I call her.”

Elphaba ignored Galinda’s protest. “It’s alright, yes.”

“As I was saying, Elphie, we’re simply thrilled.”

“Extremely, it was about time,” Momsicle agreed. “But, Galinda, have you calmed down now?”

Galinda winced. Of course they were no longer talking about her feelings for Elphaba. “Yes. I’m very sorry for my—behavior tonight.”

“What behavior?” Elphaba asked under her breath, and Galinda winced again.

“She yelled at us,” Momsicle said, her tone flat and disapproving.

“I’m sorry! I really am!”

“Can you believe, Elphie?” Momsie sighed. “She yelled at us for that horrible business at the dancehall—not that it was your fault, dear Elphie.”

“Of course it wasn’t,” said Momsicle. “Galinda here thought it was ours.”

Galinda looked down at her feet, fiddling with the lapels of Elphie’s jacket. Ah, Oz save her. She had to keep quiet and endure, anything she said would be used against her.

And Elphie, sweet Elphie, was frowning like she couldn’t even believe what she was hearing, but she was still holding onto Galinda and there was comfort in that.

There was a lot of comfort in that.

“Why would you think it was their fault?” Elphaba asked.

“Go on,” Momsie said, the absolute devil. “Tell her what you said to us.”

Chastised, Galinda said through gritted teeth: “I thought they had said something to make you uncomfortable.”

“You did?” Elphaba asked. “They would never.”

“Yes, Elphie, they would never,” Galinda said tightly. “But I wasn’t thinking clearly, I was worried about you. And since I had told these two over here about my wonderful plan to confess my feelings to you, I was concerned they had let it slip, and that that had scared you off.”

“She made a scene,” Momsie said helpfully.

“Thank you, Momsie, I absolutely needed to be reminded of that.”

She waved a hand. “Elphie needs to know what she’s getting into.”

Galinda was really upset by the whole Elphie situation. No one called Elphie Elphie. No one but Galinda.

“Mmm.” Momsicle hummed. Ah, fantastic! They weren’t done. “What was it that she said, darling?”

Momsie, ever the fan of theatrics, pretended to think about it, and made a whole show of snapping her fingers as if she’d just been struck with reminiscence. “Right! She said: ‘I can’t leave you alone with her for two clock ticks! How could you let this happen!?’”

Even in the state she was in, Galinda had to admit her mother could really nail an impression of her voice.

“Did you?” Elphaba asked.

Galinda sighed. “Yes, I did. Thank you so much for requesting confirmation, Elphie.”

“You were so calm and composed when you found me.”

“Of course.” Galinda looked at her, and forgot they weren’t the only people in the room. “I knew you’d be scared and overwhelmed, the last thing I wanted was to add to that. I was just really glad I found you.”

“How did you find me?” Elphaba’s eyes were so soft, she also looked at Galinda as if no one else existed.

“Your magic,” Galinda said. “I just had to follow it, I know how it feels.”

“Oh. I’m—”

“Don’t apologize.” Galinda patted Elphie’s shoulder. “For the dancehall thing, I mean. Don’t. I didn’t want to leave you in the first place. If I was angry, I was only ever angry at myself.”

“But you didn’t do anything.”

“I know. But I should’ve. I should’ve known better, too, about what caused it, I just didn’t think—”

“What?”

“That you’d be—jealous. I still wasn’t sure if you had any feelings for me—”

Her mothers cleared their throats in perfect unison.

Right. Perhaps she and Elphie shouldn’t be having this conversation right now.

Galinda glanced at them. “I’m sorry for getting upset at you like that. I shouldn’t have yelled, and next time I will remember to use my inside voice.”

“Very good, young lady.” Momsie smiled, sweet and familiar as always. “Apology accepted.”

“And I wasn’t jealous.” Elphaba, bless her heart, did her very best to lower her voice so only Galinda could hear, but she forgot—or, perhaps, she didn’t know about this—that she was in a room with two mothers, and thus there was nothing that would go unnoticed.

“Sure you weren’t,” Momsicle chimed in, eyes alight with mirth. “I suppose the daggers you were glaring at poor Milla were just a figment of my imagination.”

Oh, Galinda should defend her, but it would be fruitless. Now that they’d come this far, Elphaba was fair game for Momsie and Momsicle’s teasing. Poor Elphie. Galinda could only hope she’d get used to it quickly.

Elphaba blushed. “I thought I was being subtle.”

“Neither of you are subtle,” Momsie said with a chuckle. “With anything.”

Rude. Why was Galinda part of the conversation again?

She cleared her throat. “Well, it’s been a long night. Thank you for accompanying us, for putting up with me, and for being such wonderful parents. Are we still on for breakfast at Highland Street tomorrow?”

“Of course,” Momsie replied. “Your mother’s treat, since she lost the bet.”

Momsicle sighed dramatically. “Great job, duckie, now I’ll never live this down.”

“Welcome to the club, neither will I,” said Galinda, and then she glanced at Elphaba who was still blushing a darker shade of green. “And neither, it seems, will Elphie. Anyway! Goodnight—”

“Just one thing, darling.”

Galinda stiffened, bracing herself for whatever was coming next. “Yes, Momsie?”

“No more closed doors, alright?”

“What?” Galinda blinked. “We share a room back at Shiz!”

“That doesn’t matter while you’re living under our roof.”

Chapter Text

“This is ridiculous,” Galinda declared, sprawled dramatically across her bed as Elphaba tried not to smile. “We’re grown women! I’ve left the door open three inches. That must count, yes?”

“I wouldn’t know,” Elphaba said, amused, sitting at the foot of the bed and unlacing her shoes. “But I do believe they specified ‘fully’ open.”

“Define fully.”

“Considering it would be to my detriment to do so, we can go with whatever your definition is.”

Galinda chuckled and rolled onto her side to better watch Elphaba unfasten the buttons of her shirt—the precise movements of her fingers, the way her long nails caught the light. It was strange how everything felt exactly the same and completely different all at once. She could still watch Elphaba’s hands work, but now she knew how those same hands felt against her waist, her shoulders, her face.

“You’re staring,” Elphaba noted.

“I am,” Galinda agreed, entirely unbothered. “I’m allowed to now.”

A faint blush crept across Elphaba’s cheeks—still unused to such open admiration, still seemingly braced for the other shoe to drop. But she didn’t look away. Her small smile made Galinda’s heart flutter in her chest.

“And in any event,” Galinda continued, propping herself up on her elbows. “What do they think is going to happen? We’ve been sharing this room for weeks!”

“You’re the one who said things would be different between us now.”

Galinda waved that off. “And can you believe they bet on us?”

“At least they were both rooting for us?”

“That’s not the point!” Galinda whined. “Oz, it’s so embarrassing, isn’t it? You wouldn’t believe, Elphie, it’s been a time and a half. They’ve both been pestering me about you all summer long, and it’s just— ugh.”

Elphaba was smirking. Smirking.

Galinda glared at her. “Don’t you dare say anything smug.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it.” Elphaba looked far too pleased with herself. Annoyingly, that only made her more attractive.

“I suppose I should just be grateful they didn’t break out the champagne.”

“Yet.”

“Yes, yet.” Galinda flopped onto her back with a dramatic sigh. If she kept looking at Elphaba, she was going to spontaneously combust. “I hope you enjoy your time as a daughter-in-law, Elphie.”

The pause that followed, somehow, felt quite meaningful and pointed. Galinda sat up again and found Elphaba staring at her, wide-eyed and soft and hesitant.

“Are you alright?” Galinda asked her gently.

Elphaba exhaled. “I just—” She glanced down at her hands, then back at Galinda. “A daughter-in-law? It’s—I can’t quite believe this is real. You. Us. This.”

And just like that, the teasing melted into something warm and slow, settling between them like a secret.

Galinda smiled, reaching out. “Come here, silly.”

Elphaba moved toward her as if pulled by an invisible thread, settling beside Galinda on the bed. Her hands were steady, but her eyes betrayed a flicker of nerves.

“Let me help you with these,” Galinda said softly, reaching for the remaining buttons of Elphaba’s shirt. Her fingers worked slowly, deliberately, giving Elphaba plenty of time to stop her if she wanted. She didn’t stop her, most likely because she was wearing a dark undershirt beneath. Sad for Galinda, but very typical Elphie. “And I should get this makeup off of you.”

“I can do it,” Elphaba replied, her voice just slightly breathless.

“Sure, but I want to take care of you. Don’t move.” Galinda reached for her vanity, grabbing a bit of cotton and her makeup remover, then settled back in front of Elphaba. “Close your eyes for me?”

Elphaba complied, and Galinda began gently wiping away the eye makeup she’d so carefully applied earlier. It was such a simple moment, and yet Galinda knew she’d remember it forever. Why, Elphie letting herself be cared for—there was nothing better.

“You can open them now,” she whispered, reaching next for Elphaba’s lips. “The lipstick might be a bit harder to remove, considering how thoroughly we tested its staying power.”

“At least we know it works as advertised,” Elphaba murmured, and Galinda smiled, recalling all their stolen kisses from the evening.

“Hold still,” she instructed. “And I must say, even if it’s all faded now, this color looks lovely on you. We’ll have to get you your own.”

Elphaba’s eyes sparkled with amusement. “Planning to make this a regular occurrence?”

“The lipstick or the kissing?”

“Both?”

“Definitely both.” Galinda set the cotton aside and traced Elphaba’s now-bare bottom lip with her thumb. “If you’ll let me.”

Elphaba leaned into the touch. So cute. “I think I could be persuaded.”

“Excellent. I’m very good at persuasion.” Galinda flashed her most charming smile before turning slightly where she sat. “Could you help me with my dress? The zipper’s a bit tricky.”

“So how did you get it up in the first place?”

“Don’t argue with me.”

She felt Elphaba’s fingers, warm and careful, skim the top of her spine as they found the zipper. There was a slight hesitation before she began tugging it downward, slow and deliberate, like she was hyper-aware of every movement.

The cool air kissed Galinda’s back inch by inch as the fabric parted, but it was nothing compared to the heat of Elphaba’s fingertips. They ghosted down the newly exposed skin, a touch barely there, yet somehow searing.

At the base of her spine, Elphaba’s fingers stilled, lingering just a second too long. She didn’t seem to know what to do next.

“Are you nervous?” Galinda asked—and then realized what she had just implied. “Not that—not that you should be! Why would you be? But, also, it’s alright if you are. I get nervous around you too, sometimes, but it’s—”

“Galinda,” Elphaba said, the smile audible in her voice. “I’m not nervous about this. It’s not the first time I’ve helped you with these things—though I do recall you once had a very elaborate changing screen.”

“Which you called pretentious.”

“It was pretentious. And—” Elphaba paused. “Huh. It mysteriously disappeared one day. How come?”

Galinda was so glad they weren’t facing each other, but she still scrambled to find an excuse. “Ah, yes. You see. That was because— oh, who am I kidding? Yes, I got rid of it as another attempt to hopefully catch your eye. And I’ll have you know I was trying very hard, Elphie, so please give me some credit. And I want to believe all my efforts paid off, even the small ones, or you wouldn’t be here.”

Feeling bold, Galinda turned around, holding her dress to her chest so it wouldn’t slip further. Elphaba wasn’t even trying to look at her face. She was such a dear.

Then, as if a thought had suddenly struck her, Elphaba’s eyes snapped up. “Now wait just a clock tick. You were wearing those ridiculous nightgowns on purpose, weren’t you?”

“Of course I was,” Galinda said easily. “And it was really hurtful that you didn’t appreciate them properly!”

Her voice dropped just slightly. “Do I have time to remedy that now?”

Galinda’s face might as well have caught fire. “Oh, hell, Elphie, you really are good at this. And you’re not even trying.”

“I never learned how to try,” Elphaba said with a shrug. “And I don’t feel like I have to try when I’m with you. Don’t get me wrong, I’m still trying to wrap my head around the fact that this is real—”

“It’s so incredibly real.”

Elphaba ducked her head, flustered. “Yes, you’ve said. Still, it’s easier than I thought it would be, because you make things easier for me.”

“I do?” Galinda’s heart swelled. She knew better than anyone how hard things had always been for Elphaba—how she’d had to fight for every scrap of kindness, how she’d learned to expect the worst. The idea that she, of all people, made things easier for Elphaba felt like the highest compliment in the world.

“Of course. Can’t you tell?”

“Elphie, you have no right to ask me if I can or can’t tell something.”

Elphaba chuckled. “I’m sorry. You’re right. But I meant what I said.”

Elphaba’s smile had to be the most beautiful thing to exist in this world.

Galinda adored this. She adored Elphie, and she adored being in love with Elphie. And it was all made better because Elphie was here with her smiling at her and telling her all manner of absurdly wonderful things.

“You’re staring again.”

“Get used to it,” Galinda said. “You stare at me too.”

“Yes, well—” Elphaba coughed, scratching the back of her neck. “I can’t exactly help it.”

“I don’t want you to help it.” Galinda smiled at her. “But for now we should finish getting ready for bed.” Though she made no attempt to move.

“Right.” Elphaba gulped, glancing at where Galinda was still holding her dress to her chest. “Do you—um. Need more help with…?”

“Oh, you are not undressing me on our first night officially together, Miss Elphaba Thropp,” Galinda said, voice thick with amusement. “That’s so scandalocious.”

When blushing, Elphaba’s skin turned the prettiest shade of dark green. It delighted Galinda to no end. “That’s not—I wasn’t—I thought you wanted me to.”

Galinda burst into laughter.

“I mean. Don’t you want me to?”

Galinda stopped laughing.

“What?” She blinked. “I mean. I do—I was just—I thought it may be too soon—”

Elphaba smiled at her again and, Oz, her eyes were intense. Galinda thought for a moment she would lean forward and kiss her, and kiss her, and kiss her and do many other things to her other than kissing. And she was ready. She was so ready to have her way with Elphie, and for Elphie to have her way right back, despite the joke she’d just made. If Elphaba was ready too, then—

But then Elphaba patted Galinda’s knee, in a way that was dripping with condescension, and hopped off the bed.

“W-what!?” Galinda jolted upright, heart hammering.

“You’re right, it is too soon,” Elphaba said, halfway disappeared into Galinda’s closet. “And far, far too scandalocious. Plus, we really should keep the door actually open.”

“Elphaba Thropp! You wicked, wicked thing!”

Like children too giddy with the prospect of presents at Lurlinemas to stay in bed, Galinda and Elphaba were the first ones awake in the house.

“What time is it?” Galinda whispered, though there was no real need. The house was large enough that voices wouldn’t carry all the way upstairs.

Elphaba squinted at the ornate clock on the wall. “Quarter to seven.” She turned to Galinda with a knowing smile. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you up this early voluntarily.”

“Well, I couldn’t sleep.” Galinda’s fingers found Elphaba’s, intertwining naturally. “Too happy.”

The admission made Elphaba’s face soften in that way that made Galinda want to drag her back to bed to kiss her. “Me too.”

“So,” Galinda said, forcing herself to focus on something other than Elphaba’s lips. “Leo won’t get here until at least ten… which means we’ll have to make our own food.”

“Oh no,” Elphaba said flatly. “What a disaster. What will we do without dear Leo?”

“Sure, make fun,” Galinda said, nudging her. “But you’ve been reaping the benefits of his cooking all month! You’ve asked for that eggplant dish, like, seven times.”

“It’s very good,” Elphaba replied, dreamily, like she could taste it even now. “Maybe we should just go back to bed and wait. Didn’t we promise your mothers we’d join them for breakfast at that one restaurant?”

“Going back to bed sounds wonderful, but—” Galinda grimaced, clutching her stomach over her oversized sleeping sweater. No skimpy nightgowns this time around, she had to give Elphaba some time to adjust—and some time to miss them, so that she would be even more impressed once Galinda brought them back. “I am quite hungry. Aren’t you? We didn’t eat anything last night.”

“I know,” Elphaba said tiredly. “All I had was half a glass of wine and whatever drink you got for me.”

“And kisses.”

Her mouth curled into an adorable little smile. “And kisses. Which I’ve just discovered are my favorite source of nutrition.”

Galinda giggled, but swatted Elphaba’s shoulder. “We have to focus here, Elphie. We can still go to eat with my mothers, by the time we have to leave we’ll be hungry again. So—breakfast?”

Elphaba shrugged. “Breakfast.”

Galinda turned in a slow circle, taking in the vast, gleaming kitchen that she had almost never used in her life. The countertops stretched endlessly, the copper pots hanging above the stove practically sparkled, and she was reasonably sure that one of these cabinets contained food.

She tapped her chin. “Toast.”

Elphaba blinked. “Toast?”

“Yes! We simply take bread and—we toast it!”

Elphaba gave her a long, skeptical look. Then, very dryly, she said, “That sounds wildly ambitious.”

“Do you have a better idea? Because you don’t exactly look like a seasoned chef, either. Who cooked back at Colwen Grounds?”

“Dulcibear, for the most part,” Elphaba said. “But I know the basics.”

“The basics like?”

“Like—” Elphaba frowned, then sighed. “Like toast. Let’s get it over with.”

Galinda flounced toward the pantry, pulling open the doors with confidence. The confidence immediately vanished when she stared at the overwhelming array of ingredients inside.

Elphaba peered over her shoulder. “Goodness, Galinda. Do you ever eat food, or just arrange it?”

“Oh, hush. You’ve eaten food here.” Galinda huffed and reached for a loaf of bread, turning back with triumph. “Aha! Bread!”

Elphaba whistled, mock-impressed. “Brilliant work.”

“Don’t claim victory yet. We must find the pan.”

“We should find eggs, too. I can make eggs.”

“Eggs? Now that is incredibly ambitious. How will we ever manage?”

“I’ve seen Dulcibear make them dozens of times,” Elphaba said, carefully opening cabinet doors at random.

“Watching and doing are very different things, my love.” Galinda paused, bread still clutched to her chest. “Where does one keep pans?”

“Oh. I found them.” Elphaba emerged with a hefty cast iron skillet in hand.

“My hero.” Galinda beamed at her, smile dumb and dreamy. And yes, she’d admit it—it felt quite dumb. “Now. Eggs. Those would be in the…” She glanced around helplessly.

“Ice box?”

“Right! Yes. The ice box. Which is...” Galinda spun in another slow circle.

“The large white cabinet you’re currently using as a mirror.”

“I knew that.” Galinda pulled it open with determination. “Oh! Look at all the food we have here too! Who knew we had so much?”

“Everyone who’s ever eaten here?”

“Hush. Let’s find a way to work the stove now. Eggs and toast. How hard can it be?”

Ten clock ticks later, the answer was: very hard.

There was egg everywhere. In the pan, certainly, but also on the counter. The stove. The floor. Somehow, there was even a bit on Elphaba’s sleeve.

Galinda pressed her lips together, trying very hard not to laugh. “Elphie,” she said delicately. “Darling.”

Elphaba, grimacing at the disaster in the pan, exhaled. “Yes?”

“I don’t think that’s how eggs are supposed to look.”

“They’re just scrambled eggs.”

“Don’t lie to me. It was an omelette, and then you tried to flip it, failed spectacularly, and nonchalantly pretended you were making scrambled eggs all along.”

“Alright now.”

“Besides, I don’t think eggs are supposed to be… crunchy.”

Elphaba poked at the blackened mess with a spatula—a tool that had taken an absurd amount of time to find. “They can be. If you’re feeling adventurous.”

“You tell yourself that.” Galinda peered into the pan. “How did you manage to burn them and have them still be raw in the middle?”

“Natural talent?” Elphaba sighed, then smiled wryly. “At least the toast is mostly edible.”

They both turned to look at the stack of bread slices on the counter. Each one had its own unique gradient, ranging from barely warm to utterly scorched.

“We could scrape off the black bits?” Galinda suggested hopefully.

“Or we could admit defeat and try something else.”

“I hate admitting defeat. And defeated by breakfast!”

“I would hardly call this breakfast.”

“That’s even worse.”

“Oh. I know,” Elphaba said. “We’re always served fruit in the morning, isn’t that right? That should be around here somewhere.”

“Fruit!” Galinda spun toward the ice box, newly confident now that she knew where it was. “Yes! It requires no cooking whatsoever!”

“Finally, a breakfast worthy of our combined talents.”

Galinda reemerged with an armful of grapes and a wedge of cheese. “Though we should probably clean all this up before anyone sees it. Momsie is particular about her kitchen and I’ll never hear the end of it.”

“Especially since we managed to get egg on the ceiling somehow.”

They both looked up.

“How did we even...?” Galinda started.

“Best not to question it,” Elphaba said sagely, then pulled Galinda close and kissed her temple. “But I admit this is the most fun I’ve ever had failing at something.”

Oh, oh. The very first time Elphie initiated affection like this! It made Galinda’s heart melt for how casual it was. It made her want to scream.

It made her drop the grapes and the cheese, and made her pin Elphaba against the nearest counter.

Breakfast could wait.

Galinda pulled Elphie onto the bed with her, not even trying to hide her giggle as Elphaba stumbled onto the sheets beside her.

“Was that necessary?” Elphie asked, eyes sparkling with glee. These were Galinda’s favorite moments, the ones where she did something ridiculous just to make Elphie laugh, and it worked.

“Yes,” Galinda said, grinning. “Hi, gorgeous.”

Elphie’s eyes crinkled. “Galinda.”

“You’ve got to find something cute to call me.”

“Like what?”

“Well, I sure don’t know.” Galinda giggled again. “It must come from your heart! Or it won’t mean anything.”

“Is that so?”

“Yes, Elphie. It is so. No pressure, though. You can take your time because I’m not going anywhere.”

Elphaba rolled onto her back and raised a finger. “Alright. Find something to call you. Anything else?”

“Cuddle me more often.”

She nodded, raising another finger. “What else would you like?”

“What exactly are you doing?” Galinda asked with a laugh. “Writing a manual on how to be in a relationship?”

Because Elphaba was Elphaba, she nodded very seriously. “Yes. I want to learn.”

“Oh, Elphie.” Galinda sighed wistfully, overtaken by a sudden rush of tenderness. “There’s no manual for these things.”

“There should be. It would’ve saved us some trouble.”

“Silly, there was no trouble.”

“But—”

“I told you I had fun trying to woo you. And I meant it.”

“I just—feel better when I know what to expect.”

“You can expect me to dote on you.” Galinda rolled over and propped herself on an elbow, hovering above her. “And—”

“Stop. That’s not what I meant—”

“You can expect me to kiss you.” Galinda proved her point by pressing a very quick kiss to Elphaba’s lips, earning the most adorable little yelp in return. “Often. And you can expect me to say pretty things and call you cute names.” Another kiss, this time met with giggles.

“Galinda—”

Galinda kissed her again, joining in the laughter. “You’re so very dear to me, Elphie. You can expect me to say that too, and—”

“Stop it.” But Elphaba was still laughing, and there was no sound more perfect in the world. Galinda wanted to bottle it, get drunk on it, live in it. That soft, rich laugh with its shy, girlish edge—so perfectly Elphie. Maybe she’d ask later if there was a spell to bottle laughter. For now, she needed to hear more of it.

“I shan’t stop! I sha-aa-n’t!” she sang, and peppered kisses all over Elphaba’s cheeks, her chin, the tip of her nose. “You must know what to expect!”

Elphaba then made the fatal mistake of clutching her own stomach, still laughing something fierce, and so when Galinda went to take her hand, and Elphaba arched away, something most fascinating was revealed.

“Elphaba Thropp.” Galinda gasped. “You’re ticklish!”

“Don’t you da—!”

Galinda dared.

“And I never knew!” She gleefully tapped her fingers all over Elphaba’s sides, laughing along with the way she squirmed. “You hid it from me! How could you?”

“Stop. Really, calm down,” Elphaba managed in between more giggles. The rascal wasn’t even trying to pull away from Galinda’s affections. “You’re making a ruckus.”

“I don’t care.” Galinda was laughing too, but quickly decided that kissing Elphie was better than tickling her. So she went back to it, pressing kisses across her sweet face. “Do you know how badly I have wanted to kiss these darling freckles of yours? Goodness, Elphie, you’re the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen. I’m so utterly lucky.”

“Don’t say things like that.”

“Why ever not?” Galinda chuckled. Elphaba was blushing so fiercely her face radiated heat. “I’m allowed to now!”

“You’re absurd.”

“And you’re pretty.” Galinda inched closer, their noses brushing. “You remind me of someone.”

“What? Who?”

“Oh, you know…” She grinned slowly. “Just the girl of my dreams.”

“Galinda.” Elphaba burst out laughing, cheeks dark, one hand curling into the collar of Galinda’s sweater to pull her down into a kiss that was more giggle than anything else.

Galinda hovered over her, kissing her through laughter, feeling like she was floating, like nothing could ruin this perfect moment—

Someone cleared their throat at the door.

Elphaba went completely still, but Galinda just sat back and turned toward the doorway, flashing her sweetest smile at her mother.

“Good morning!”

“What’s going on here?” Always straight to business with dear Momsicle. “It’s seven in the morning.”

“Nothing’s going on,” Galinda said innocently. “What? Oh, sorry. Did we wake you? We were just joking around. I guess sound does carry more when the door is open.”

“Oh, Oz,” Elphaba muttered, clearly wishing she could disappear. But Galinda held her mother’s gaze, a plan unfurling rapidly in her mind.

Momsicle sighed. “I know what you’re doing, duckie.”

“I don’t know what you mean!”

“Your mother’s rules,” said Momsicle. “Not mine.”

“But surely—” Galinda scrambled out of bed and planted herself in front of her mother. “Surely you could help me? Convince her? I know you don’t want to keep hearing Elphie and me flirt constantly—and we will, because I’m teaching the proper ways to flirt—not that she needs that, but she’s worried that—”

“Galinda,” Elphaba hissed.

Right. This plan she had just invented. Galinda’s mind was moving at lightning speed, churning out nonsense as fast as she could speak it. “So you see, Momsicle, it’s in your best interest to help me out! And it’s not like we’re going to do anything wrong or untoward! I’m a proper lady! And Elphie is too!”

“I don’t want to be part of this conversation,” Elphaba said, with a surprising level of composure. God, she was attractive. “And I had nothing to do with this ploy.”

“Don’t worry, Elphaba,” Momsicle said. “We know.”

“What ploy!?” Galinda cried at the same time. “There is no ploy!”

“Lower your voice,” Momsicle half-hissed. “Your mother is trying to go back to sleep.”

“Perfect! That means you’ll be more likely to convince her while she’s half-conscious and defenseless.”

For reasons Galinda absolutely could not fathom, Momsicle remained unmoved. “And why should I help you?”

“Because I’m your only daughter and you love me?” Galinda turned up the wattage on her smile, even showing all her teeth—her classic strategy, the one that had melted Momsicle’s heart since she was a little girl.

But it didn’t work.

And Galinda immediately knew why. “Are you still upset about losing the bet!?”

“Door stays open,” Momsicle said flatly. “Fully open. And lower your voice from now on.”

“Drat,” Galinda muttered as her mother walked down the hallway. “I really thought that was going to work.”

She received no response.

“Elphie?”

Elphie had disappeared under the blankets.

“Come now, Elphie, don’t be embarrassed.”

“You’re ridiculous.”

“Well I was trying to—” Galinda stopped, shifting awkwardly on her feet, staring more intently at the bundle of blankets that had become of her beloved Elphie. “Sorry.”

Elphaba peeked out. “What?”

“I mean, I wasn’t really trying to do anything. It wasn’t a ploy. I just… I thought we were having fun. I only started thinking about the door when my mother showed up and then—”

“Hey.” Elphaba frowned gently, sitting up at the edge of the bed. “It’s alright.”

“Is it, though?” Galinda wrung her hands, suddenly uncertain. “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. I just got carried away and then she showed up and I panicked, and...” She trailed off, looking down at her feet.

Elphaba reached out, gently taking Galinda’s hands to stop their nervous fidgeting. “I’m not uncomfortable.”

“I know I can be intense. And we’ve only just figured this out between us, and I’m already arguing about doors and making you hide under blankets and—”

“And you didn’t hear a word I said.” Elphaba gave her hands a gentle squeeze, tugging Galinda down to sit beside her. “I like you just the way you are, you know?”

“Huh?”

“I like that you’re intense,” Elphaba said.

“Really?”

“Really.” Elphaba smiled at her. “I like that you’re not afraid to go after what you want.”

“So you—weren’t uncomfortable?”

“It was a little embarrassing,” Elphaba admitted. “But if you said you didn’t plan it—”

“I didn’t. I was just—I was having fun with you. Really.”

“I was having fun too.” Elphaba’s smile turned wry. “And, hey, it could’ve worked.”

“It so could’ve!” Galinda bit her lip, fiddling with Elphie’s hands. “Would you have—wanted it to work?”

“Maybe.” But the little smile tugging at Elphaba’s lips said yes, and the thrill that ran through Galinda’s chest was immediate.

“Oh, maybe?” Galinda chuckled, tension finally leaving her shoulders. “Fine, I’ll keep trying for you. Just for you. Just because you want to.”

“Just for me, mm?”

“Yes, Elphie, you’re welcome. I’ll try to be more subtle, though, so I don’t embarrass you.”

“I wasn’t that embarrassed,” Elphaba reassured her again. “And—don’t be too subtle. I actually—like being included in… the antics? It’s flattering, in a way, to know how you feel about me. I might miss it.”

Galinda’s heart melted. She leaned down, pressing her forehead against Elphaba’s. “Oh, Elphie. I’m going to need to find a balance between ‘not embarrassing you in front of my mothers’ and ‘making absolutely certain you never doubt how I feel about you.’”

“I think you can manage that,” Elphaba said, her voice warm with affection. “You’re exceptionally talented at getting what you want.”

“What I want,” Galinda said, “is for you to be happy.”

“Then consider yourself successful.” Elphaba gave her one of her dazzling, soul-melting smiles. “Even with doors that must remain fully open.”

Galinda giggled. “Not for long, you’ll see. I’m going to—”

She was cut off by a high-pitched but mighty voice, coming once again directly from the doorway—Galinda should really start paying attention.

“Galinda Arduenna Upland. Did you make a mess of my kitchen?”

Galinda pivoted to see Momsie standing right there, and didn’t miss a beat—even if hearing her full name made her shiver.

“It was because we had to keep the door open!”

“What does that have to do with anything!?”

“I was stressed,” Galinda said confidently. “And stress leads to stress-eating, and therefore—”

“I found egg on the ceiling.”

“Oh.” Galinda blinked. “Guess we forgot about that.”

Right, Galinda had been more concerned with kissing.

Momsie stepped into the room, arms crossed, but there was an unmistakable twinkle in her eye. “I swear, between the two of you, this house won’t survive the rest of the summer. Exploding bottles, now egg on my ceiling.”

“It was my fault,” Elphie rushed to say. “I didn’t mean to make a mess, I’m sorry. I can—”

“It’s alright.” Momsie shook her head. “You don’t have to do anything, dear. I know my daughter well enough to know who’s the culprit here.”

“Hey now!” Galinda felt her face warming again. But would either of her mothers leave her alone this morning? She had not been the one in charge of making eggs! Oh, well, Galinda wasn’t about to blame Elphie. “Momsie, I thought you were going back to sleep?”

“How can I sleep with the constant giggling coming from this place?” She sighed dramatically. “Look at you, Galinda, just one day, and you’re already a chaotic influence on dear Elphie.” Then she turned to Elphaba, giving her a sympathetic look that only barely concealed her amusement. “You know, sweetling, it’s not too late to run.”

“Mother!”

Elphaba laughed—her earlier embarrassment completely gone. “I think I’ll take my chances.”

“Brave girl.” Momsie nodded approvingly. “But Galinda, please. Just one morning without incidents?”

“You say that as if there is an incident every morning.”

“That’s how it feels like. I hope you know I’m not giving you a hard time on purpose, sweetling. You’re actually a lot tamer than me when I was your age.” She smiled wistfully. “At least your little kitchen distraction just ended in a small mess. When your mother and I were just a little older than you, we once accidentally set fire to a curtain in her parents’ summer home because we were too... distracted... by each other to notice there was a candle nearby.”

Elphaba made a very interesting noise—like she wanted to laugh but didn’t find it appropriate so she just coughed-sputtered into her hand.

Galinda was partly horrified. “I’m fairly certain I didn’t need to know that.”

Momsie waved a hand. “I’m just saying, I remember what it’s like to be young. Why, it hasn’t been that long since I was your age—” Yes, it had. But Galinda, loving her mother and valuing her life, wisely kept her own counsel. “But I’m just looking out for you, sweet girl. You understand, yes?”

“No,” Galinda said flatly. “It’s just a door. We’re roommates at Shiz. And you’re not even in the house half the time. I don’t understand, no. I just don’t.”

“Oh, well.” Momsie shrugged. “When you become a mother yourself, you’ll think of me and say, ‘Oh, Momsie was quite right about this.’ But until that day arrives—door stays open.”

She clapped her hands. “Now, chop chop—back downstairs to finish cleaning the kitchen. I can only assume you neglected that part because you were distracted by each other.”

Well, she wasn’t wrong. Galinda had been purposely distracting Elphie. But that was a detail Momsie didn’t need.

“We’ll be right there.”

“Don’t dally now,” Momsie called over her shoulder as she swept down the hall—leaving the door, of course, fully open behind her.

Galinda sighed.

“If you wanted the chocolate cake,” Elphaba said, “you should’ve ordered it.”

“But I like strawberry better. And I’m just asking for a bite! Just one! A single, singular bite!”

“Knowing you, that’ll turn into wanting the whole thing.”

Time to bring in the cavalry, then.

Galinda pouted.

“One bite.” Elphaba, generous and saintlike Elphaba, gathered a lot of cake in her fork, and then offered it to Galinda.

Galinda, who’d been fully expecting Elphaba to just slide the plate over, nearly fell off her chair scrambling to bite the cake off the fork. But smoothly, of course. Gracefully.

Elphaba had to lean forward again to wipe a smudge of frosting from Galinda’s chin.

“Oh, it’s good.” Galinda was still polite enough to cover her mouth while she chewed. “Woah. This place never changes. This is—”

“Your favorite café in town,” Elphaba said with a smile. “I know.”

The café sat at the corner of one of Frottica’s quieter streets, its striped awnings casting shade over a few outdoor tables nestled into the cobblestones. Flowering vines climbed the weathered brick walls, and the air was thick with the scent of coffee and fresh-baked pastries. It was the kind of place designed for lazy summer afternoons—which was precisely why Galinda had dragged Elphaba there after the morning’s kitchen disaster and the very thorough teasing over breakfast with Momsie and Momsicle.

And, of course, to get away from the fact both of her mothers had decided to stay home the first day of hers and Elphaba’s newfound romance.

Their table, tucked beneath a canopy of trailing purple flowers, felt like its own little world. The wrought iron chairs were just uncomfortable enough to make leaning in for dessert-sharing seem entirely reasonable, and the dappled light cast shifting patterns over their plates.

“Very good, Elphie.” Galinda slid her own plate closer to the center of the table and reached casually—very casually—for more of Elphaba’s cake. “Very attentive of you, to listen to me.”

Elphaba intercepted Galinda’s wandering fork with her own. “You said one bite.”

“But look!” Galinda gestured between their plates. “Now you can have some of mine too. We’re sharing, which is what couples do, and also we’re maximizing our efficiency and— Um. Elphie?”

Elphaba blinked at her. “Yes?”

“What’s wrong? You went away for a clock tick.”

“It’s just—we’re a couple now.”

“I sure hope we are.” Galinda tilted her head, staring more carefully at Elphaba. “Do you not want to be?”

“No,” Elphaba rushed in to say. “No—I mean, yes. I want to be. It’s just still sinking in.”

Galinda smiled softly and hooked her ankle around Elphaba’s under the table. “I know. Which is why you should share your cake slice with me, and I’ll share mine with you. That’ll help it sink in faster.”

“Oh, will it?” Elphaba chuckled, this time reaching for Galinda’s plate and cutting a piece. Galinda pushed a full strawberry toward her fork in encouragement, and Elphaba took it with a slightly embarrassed grin.

“Oz above and beyond, is that Galinda Upland with a beau?” A familiar voice shattered their peaceful little bubble. “My, my! It’s been so long!”

Crope dragged one of the chairs from a nearby table and, nursing a cup of something iced and sugary, plopped himself down next to them. Galinda tried to kick the chair out from under him before he sat, but he anticipated it, keeping a firm grip on the back the whole time.

“This is just so much! Am I interrupting something? Don’t answer that—I’d rather assume yes. How do you do?”

“Crope.” Galinda’s smile was all teeth. “What a delightful interruption to my perfectly lovely afternoon.”

“Isn’t it just?” He took a long, deliberately noisy sip of his drink. “I simply couldn’t resist when I saw you two looking so cozy. I mean really, you are sharing food with someone? I had to see it for myself.”

“I share food all the time.”

“You once stabbed my hand with a fork for reaching toward your plate.”

“We were eight.”

”It left a scar!” He turned to Elphaba, who was watching their exchange with poorly hidden amusement. “She’s a menace, you know. Always has been. I don’t know how you put up with her.”

Galinda kicked him under the table, but he just grinned wider.

“What are you even doing here?” she asked. “Shouldn’t you be off terrorizing some other unfortunate souls?”

“Oh, you know, the usual—avoiding Mother’s latest matchmaking attempt. The son of her book club friend is apparently ‘just perfect’ for me.” Crope rolled his eyes, then lit up with fresh glee. “But never mind that—what’s this delicious bit of gossip I’ve stumbled upon?”

“Forget about me for a moment,” Galinda said, eyes narrowing. “Not a single insult or compliment for the book club boy? That means you and Tibbett must be back together.”

Crope arched a brow. Galinda arched one right back, silently declaring: if we’re not talking about your romantic endeavors, we’re not talking about mine.

Unfortunately, Crope had the upper hand—he’d been making his rounds around Frottica while Galinda had spent most of her summer showing Elphaba the hidden corners of her hometown, not catching up with old friends. His networking was vastly superior at the moment.

“I heard the most delightful thing from Milla just earlier today.”

Galinda groaned. “Ugh. I hate you. I have hated you since we were babies.”

“The hatred is mutual, darling.” Crope’s grin sharpened. “But I heard from a little birdie—”

“No wonder baby me tried to strangle baby you when we shared a crib.”

“—that you two were spotted leaving after some manner of disaster—”

“Current me will stab current you with this fork.”

“—and now here you are, all bundled up, giggling like schoolgirls.”

Galinda felt her face burn. Elphaba, beside her, just looked amused.

“Well,” said Elphaba. “We are schoolgirls.”

Crope clapped his hands once. “Oh, this is a delight. This is the best day of my life. Galinda Upland, in love again. And looking like it’s the very first time! Phew. I’m simply dying over here.”

“Crope, you can leave now,” Galinda said. “I don’t know why you’ve invited yourself to—”

“Sorry, I really don’t mean to interrupt your date.” He reached for a strawberry off Galinda’s plate, then had to snatch his hand back to avoid getting impaled by a fork. “I mean, Elphaba, you don’t even know this one right here. Most girls in Frottica have a story or two about—”

“Hush,” Galinda cut in firmly. “Begone, you fiend. Your presence is no longer required. In fact, it was never required.”

“Oh, come now,” Crope said, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “I’m merely making conversation.” He turned to Elphaba with a conspiratorial smile. “Has our dear Galinda told you about her impressive history of romances?”

Galinda’s cheeks flushed. “Crope, I swear—”

“Nothing scandalous, of course,” he continued, ignoring her warning glare. “But hilarious either way.”

“Crope,” Galinda’s voice dropped for real this time. “Enough.”

“Fine!” He sighed and slumped back in his chair, slurping his drink with extra dramatic effect. “I’m sorry I’m so excited. It’s just that I have been dying to bump into you again, Elphaba. The famous Elphaba who stole our Galinda’s heart!”

“Famous?” Elphaba blinked.

“Oh yes. The whole town knows about you. And according to Milla, last night Galinda was looking at you with the most unabashed—”

“Crope!”

“What?” He laughed. “Don’t be embarrassed now!” He turned to Elphaba again. “Please tell me my efforts at the summer solstice were helpful. Did you see her? I feared for my life, Miss Elphaba. I didn’t even get to ask you to dance. Be careful—she gets very jealous.”

“That was just because it was you,” Galinda said. “You don’t deserve to breathe in Elphie’s direction. Besides, Elphie, don’t listen to him. He once pretended to pass out because Tibbett was talking to another boy.”

“Well!” Crope sniffed. “It worked, didn’t it? Tibbett valiantly came to my rescue. And that was just one time.”

“You’ve pulled that trick, approximately, four times. I don’t even know how Tibbett keeps falling for it.”

“Because he loves me,” Crope said with a grin. “Now, I do have somewhere to be. Very sorry to have interrupted your little couple’s getaway—” Galinda kicked him again under the table, and again he ignored it. “I’ll see you around, ladies!”

“I’m so sorry about him,” was the first thing Galinda whispered to Elphaba once he was gone.

“I like him.” Elphaba shrugged. She’d finished most of her dessert during the whole performance, but she’d left a neat wedge of cake untouched. For Galinda. It made Galinda swoon. “Easily my favorite of your friends, though the bar was quite low.”

“I suppose it was.” Galinda sighed dreamily, then gestured with her fork toward Elphaba’s plate. “Is that for me?”

Elphaba’s little smile, which had always been dangerous, was lethal now that Galinda knew firsthand how it felt to kiss it. “Yes. Since I heard couples share.”

All of Elphaba was lethal. Truly.

“Can I ask you something?” Elphaba’s voice was soft as they strolled along the cobblestone path winding through Frottica’s downtown.

The sun was still high in the sky as they made their way back home from the café, casting long shadows across pastel-colored shopfronts. As usual, Galinda felt a little syrupy and sentimental as Elphaba’s curious eyes wandered and took it all in. She’d seemed enamored with Frottica from the moment they arrived, and it never failed to make Galinda feel a little proud.

They’d walked this street before, hand in hand as friends. And now they were walking it again, fingers still intertwined—but they were something other than friends now. Galinda’s feelings hadn’t changed overmuch; they’d just grown warmer, like summer had.

And summer lingered all around them—blooming jasmine and the scent of fresh bread wafting from the corner bakery, the quiet hum of passersby, the shriek of children as water balloons burst in the square.

But Galinda felt like she and Elphaba were the only ones in the world.

She saw her hometown in new hues when she was with Elphie. The things she’d always taken for granted now shimmered with the same wonder and curiosity that lit up Elphaba’s face as she saw them for the first time.

Galinda appreciated more, felt more, loved more.

She squeezed Elphie’s hand and said, “You can ask me anything.”

And maybe, she thought, she wasn’t just answering a question. She was making a promise. She would give Elphaba anything she asked.

Elphaba looked toward a shop window, pausing slightly. “Why did you wait?”

“Huh?”

“To tell me,” Elphaba said, eyes lingering on the display of antique books, the gold-embossed titles catching the sunlight. “I’m not reproaching you. I’m just curious. If you want to share.”

They kept walking, passing beneath an archway of wisteria, where the shifting light fell across Elphaba’s skin in dappled patterns. Such a familiar street to Galinda, made brand new by having Elphaba beside her.

Maybe that was what invited such honesty from her. “I think I told you—I was scared you’d reject me.”

“Yes, but… was that all?”

Beautiful, clever Elphie. Only ever observant when it was convenient for her.

“I was scared of spoiling what we had,” Galinda said. “Because… well, you told me I was your very first friend. And I didn’t want your very first experience of friendship to end in disaster just because I couldn’t control myself.”

“I see.” Elphaba moved a little closer, their shoulders brushing now. “I thought so.”

“You did?”

“I’ve been thinking a lot,” Elphaba said. “About you, I mean. And I have something to say.”

“Oh?” Alright, even Galinda could admit that came out sounding sort of, kind of, extremely pathetic and needy.

But was Elphaba Thropp about to break her heart?

Was she about to put an end to things, when they had barely started? Galinda hadn’t even told her about their engagement yet! Oh, maybe that was the problem. Maybe Elphie was scared or uncomfortable because she could tell Galinda wanted to move too fast. Maybe she was overwhelmed, maybe Galinda had been too overbearing, maybe—

“You are my very first friend. The only friend I’ve ever had.”

Oh, Oz. It was happening, then.

Galinda’s very first heartbreak, arriving on the perfect summer day in her perfect hometown. How cruelly poetic that her heart would shatter here, on streets she’d walked since childhood.

It was just her luck that she had fallen so horrendously for the only girl alive in all of the land of Oz—and Quox and Ev and Fliaan and et cetera—who hadn’t fallen for her right back.

At least she got to have Elphaba—not completely, mind you, Galinda was sure that if she had then she and Elphie wouldn’t be having this conversation, and would instead be choosing coordinated outfits for the upcoming winter formal at Shiz—and at least she had gotten to kiss her and hold her just for a single day.

Galinda wouldn’t trade it for anything. But Oz above, how was she supposed to go on existing now that she knew the taste of Elphaba Thropp’s mouth and wasn’t allowed to kiss her ever again?

This was so horrible! Utter. Complete. Torture.

Galinda squared her shoulders and tilted her chin up, and prepared to take the news with grace. She was Galinda Upland of the Upper Uplands and she would not cry nor grovel at Elphaba’s feet for her to take her back.

No matter how great the temptation.

And Galinda knew she could excel at groveling if needed. She could offer gifts—rare scrolls, antique quills, that book on Elphie’s favorite historical conspiracy theory, the one about the ‘Forbidden Fountain’ which Galinda may or may not have already acquired.

And if gifts didn’t work—because Elphaba’s love could not be bought—Galinda could go bigger. Bolder. Grand gestures. Declarations of love so passionate, so beautifully worded, that romantic poets would weep in envy.

She could build Elphie a city! Something more magnificent than the Emerald City itself; so grand the Wizard would beg to make it his capital. Though of course it would belong to Elphie, and Elphie alone.

Yes, yes. Galinda could do that for her—she wouldn’t, of course. She didn’t think so. She wouldn’t sink that low… would she?

No, no. Forget about that, Galinda! The most important thing was that Elphaba still had a whole month left here and no matter the status of their relationship, Galinda was determined to end summer on a high note and show Elphaba all sorts of wonderful things.

She would prefer to do so as Elphaba’s paramour and not her friend, but Galinda was an adaptable woman. And she loved Elphie too much to let this ruin their time together. Elphie deserved the most incredible summer and dammit if Galinda wasn’t going to give it to her!

Still, an explanation was required. Because seriously—who put an end to a relationship with her? And within a day?

Who did Elphaba Thropp think she was?

Galinda would have to teach her proper etiquette for these sorts of things. You could not do it in a public place! And on such a beautiful day, no less! And without even easing into it!

“So—”

“Don’t say another word,” Galinda said, summoning every ounce of dignity she could muster, despite the very obvious quaver in her voice. “Really, Elphie, I understand.”

Elphaba frowned at her. “No, you don’t. I know that face.”

“What? What face?”

“You just had forty-seven simultaneous thoughts and none of them were grounded in reality.”

“Forty-seven?” Galinda muttered. “That’s a highly specific number.”

“Mhm, and I was lowballing. Galinda, listen—”

“No, Elphie, seriously. Let’s save us both the embarrassment of—”

Elphaba’s hands landed firmly on her shoulders, halting her words completely. The warmth of her touch seeped through the light fabric of Galinda’s summer dress.

“I’m not putting an end to us.”

“You’re—” Galinda blinked. The world around her snapped back into focus—the chirping birds, the scent of jasmine, the laughter from the square. “You’re not?”

“Literally—why would I?”

“Well, because—I don’t know!”

“You’re special to me,” Elphaba said with the certainty of someone declaring the sky was blue. “You’re very special to me. Galinda, you’re everything—not because you’re my first anything, but because you’re you. Don’t get me wrong, I love that you’re my first everything, but that’s not the best part—or even the relevant part. The best part, by far, is you.”

Galinda blinked once. Then twice. She held onto Elphaba’s arms, just to make sure she was real—her fingers curling into the crooks of Elphaba’s elbows, while Elphaba’s hands stayed steady and warm on her shoulders.

“Really?” Galinda asked in a voice so meek and tiny she barely recognized herself.

The most beautiful smile in the world stared back at her. “Yes, Galinda, really. How can you not know?”

Galinda adored Elphie with all her heart—but she still hit her in the shoulder. “Do not speak to me about knowing things. I told you you haven’t got the right!”

“Sorry.” Elphaba rubbed where Galinda hit her, chuckling. “Yes, yes, I know. But I’m serious.”

“Oh well—” Galinda coughed, smoothing down her dress. “I knew all of that. Obviously.”

“Obviously,” Elphaba echoed, ever the rascal. “Are you alright? Are we good?”

Galinda practically lunged for Elphie’s hand. “Of course. We’re wonderful. You are wonderful. Sorry about the very brief and minor lapse in judgment.”

“Brief and minor, was it?”

Galinda pivoted from her embarrassment with all the grace of a dancer. “You speak such beautiful things, Elphaba Thropp.”

“I don’t know if I’d call them beautiful.” Elphaba gave her a shy smile as they resumed walking—hand in hand, as was proper. “I just say what I feel.”

Galinda felt very soft again, like her insides had been replaced with cotton candy and affection. “Let me build you a city.”

Elphaba blinked. “What?”

“A city. A manor. A skyscraper. Or—oh, really, just anything you want.”

“I thought cities weren’t simply ‘built.’ Or at least that’s what you said.”

“You pay so much attention to me,” Galinda said dreamily.

“I—”

“I’m going to give you the world,” Galinda declared as they rounded a quieter corner, away from the cafés and toward the winding residential streets. “And anything else you can possibly imagine. Tell me anything you want, and I’ll—”

“How about a kiss?” Elphaba’s eyes were as soft as Galinda felt, sparkling with mirth.

“A kiss is what your heart desires?”

“One of the things, yes,” Elphie said. “As long as it’s from you.”

Galinda pulled her in by the hand and tilted her head just so, pressing a soft kiss to her lips now that they weren’t surrounded by possible onlookers. Elphaba smiled into it, but Galinda pulled away before it could deepen. She was still buzzing from her earlier—assumption.

“And you think I wanted to put an end to this?” Elphaba teased, still smiling.

“Oh, hush.” Before Elphie, Galinda hadn’t been much of a blusher. Now, she was practically a tomato. She tugged her along again, and Elphaba followed with that same infuriating, heart-melting twinkle in her eyes.

“Can I ask you something else?”

“Anything,” Galinda said, still floating from the kiss, from the relief, from everything.

“Well, it’s about—the first time we ran into Crope? You know, during the—”

“Yes, I remember,” Galinda said quickly.

Elphaba’s eyes light up even more. “So you were jealous back then! When he was flirting with me.”

“Elphaba, are you kidding me?” Galinda scoffed.

“Don’t try to deny—”

“You idiot, of course I was jealous! I called you my Elphie! And if I had your magical talents, I probably would’ve made Crope’s head explode the way you did with those bottles when you were jealous.”

“Who said I was jealous?”

Galinda laughed. “Elphie. Seriously? I’m sorry, my love, not to quote my mother on this but neither of us is exactly subtle. You can admit it, there’s no shame. I already admitted I was jealous of Crope—who, by the way, is the least threatening person in all of Frottica. At least Milla and I have history.”

Elphaba’s jaw clenched, and it was imperceptible, really, but Galinda was looking for it. “What kind of history?”

“Ah-ha!” Galinda pointed at her triumphantly. “That! Right there! That’s jealousy!”

“I’m merely asking for clarification on a vague statement you made,” Elphaba said primly, keeping her eyes on the road ahead as they walked. “I’m just curious.”

“Elphie, you’re about to crush all the bones in my hand if you keep this up.”

Elphaba immediately loosened her grip, looking guilty, but Galinda held on tight. “Sorry.”

“You’re so adorable.”

That made her blush, and Galinda laughed again.

They walked in companionable silence for a few moments, turning onto the tree-lined street that sloped toward the Upland manor. The afternoon light filtered through the leaves, creating patterns across the pathway.

“Fine,” Elphaba finally muttered, so quietly Galinda almost missed it.

“I’m sorry, what was that?” Galinda leaned closer, unable to keep the glee from her voice.

“I said fine.” Elphaba sighed. “I might have been... slightly perturbed... by you and Milla.”

“Perturbed?”

“Annoyed.”

“Mmm, getting warmer. Try again.”

Elphaba shot her a look. “Are you going to make me say it?”

“Oh, absolutely.” Galinda beamed at her. “Every delicious syllable.”

“You’re enjoying this far too much.”

“I am!” Galinda twirled their hands together. “It’s not every day the composed and rational Elphaba Thropp admits to having such pedestrian emotions as jealousy.”

They crossed the house gates together, and Elphaba came to a stop just as they reached the front garden. Her expression softened as she looked at Galinda. Something in her eyes made Galinda’s teasing smile falter, replaced by a flutter of anticipation in her chest.

“Alright,” Elphaba said under her breath. “I was jealous, yes. I didn’t like seeing her with you. But what finally made my magic appear was when I realized I wanted you to kiss me.”

The playfulness fully drained from Galinda’s expression. “Oh, Elphie...”

“It’s ridiculous, I know.” Elphaba shook her head. “Especially since we weren’t even—I had no right to feel that way.”

“It’s not ridiculous at all,” Galinda said, breathless, and closed the short distance between them to press her lips to Elphaba’s—soft at first, a gentle question.

Elphaba answered by leaning in, one hand rising to cradle the back of Galinda’s neck, her fingers threading into her hair. The tenderness of the gesture made Galinda’s heart skip a beat. She tilted her head, changing the angle, and felt Elphaba’s sharp inhale against her mouth.

Elphie still tasted like cake. Galinda sighed into the kiss, her hand settling on Elphaba’s shoulder, grounding herself as the world tilted pleasantly beneath her feet. She wanted to kiss Elphaba again and again, but something gave her pause. Elphaba kept the rest of her body so still, as if she didn’t know what to do.

And—there was something else. A lingering, warm wisp of energy in the air.

Galinda frowned, pulling away. “What—?”

Her eyes widened. The garden path was lined with her momsicle’s perfectly trimmed hedges… which were now all covered in tiny pink flowers that most certainly hadn’t been there a moment ago. Their petals shimmered as they unfurled, blooming right before their eyes.

Elphaba’s face was several shades darker than usual. She refused to look at the hedges.

“Elphie,” Galinda whispered. “Did you just—?”

“I don’t know,” Elphaba said. “I—I think so?”

“Well, well, well.” Galinda couldn’t help the smugness creeping into her voice. “Your magic seems to have a mind of its own around me. You destroy things when you’re jealous, alter magic mirrors when you want me to kiss you—but what do you suppose this means?”

“Nothing,” Elphaba said quickly, grabbing her hand as if to escape the conversation—and the flowers—by marching them inside.

Galinda glanced up toward the house and spotted the open windows—both her mothers’ bedroom and Momsicle’s office.

“Hold on, Elphie,” Galinda said, tugging her in the opposite direction.

“Where are we—?”

“Somewhere we don’t have to worry about keeping the door open.”

“I don’t want to keep making flowers bloom,” Elphaba muttered, but the protest was half-hearted at best.

They snuck around the side of the house and into the backyard gardens. Galinda felt giddy as she led them past hedges and trellises, remembering how this was where she’d found Elphie that very first night here.

“You’ll have to show me how to do that, by the way,” Galinda said as she tugged Elphaba down onto a small wrought-iron bench nestled between rose bushes, the petals brushing the air above them. It felt private. Hidden. The perfect spot. “A whole year at Shiz and I’m still behind you when it comes to magic!”

“Maybe you have your own kind of magic.”

Galinda giggled. “And what kind would that be?”

“Well—you just—you make things look easy?” For whatever reason, Elphaba seemed to be blushing at her own attempts at flirting. So she was only good at this when she wasn’t trying. What a dear.

Galinda took Elphaba’s hand in hers, and leaned back on the bench. She had brought Elphie here to kiss her silly, but found herself a little too distracted by her to bother with that. Elphie was a treasure, surely she deserved something more than furtive kisses in the garden.

“Galinda, can I—ask you something?”

Galinda caught her eyes again. “You’re always asking permission for that, but you don’t really have to. You can ask me whatever you wish.”

“Forgive me for trying to start a conversation the polite way,” Elphaba said, amused. “I’m just curious. How many girls have you dated?”

“Oh.” Galinda blinked. She probably should’ve seen it coming, given Crope’s pesky little comments and their earlier conversation. “Well, that is to say—seriously dated? Or casually?”

“Let’s go with serious,” Elphaba said.

“Well, if that’s the case—and if I’m including you—then four.”

“And what defines serious?”

“Whether or not I bring them here to meet my parents, of course.”

“Of course.” Elphaba’s voice was soft as ever, her expression open but unreadable. She sounded like she might as well have been talking about the weather.

“Are you—surprised?”

Elphaba hesitated, looking down at their fingers for a second before meeting Galinda’s gaze. “I don’t think so. I tried not to think about it before, but you’re you, so it makes sense that plenty of people would want to be with you.”

“Well, I was, if you must know, Frottica’s most eligible bachelorette amongst young ladies.” Galinda almost tossed her hair but restrained herself, because she could tell there was something important about this talk.

There it was again, that tightness in Elphie’s jaw. “Of course.”

Galinda smiled at her. “Was, Elphie, was. I’m clearly not anymore.”

“Clearly.” Elphaba’s face transformed into a dopey, lovesick grin. Absurdly endearing. “Who were these serious girls? Can I ask? Is it alright?”

“Why wouldn’t it be?” Galinda shrugged. “Let’s see. When I was fourteen, I kissed a girl for the first time—my friend Marcie. We spent some time together, but she was terribly dull. Then there was Jodie a few years later—nice, I suppose, but not very ambitious. I met both of them at school. And then there was Milla.”

Elphaba’s attention sharpened noticeably. “And how was Milla?”

“Great, for the most part,” Galinda admitted. She knew Elphie appreciated honesty above all, and she didn’t much feel like there was a need to lie. “My mothers liked her—though not as much as they like you.” Honesty above all. “We went out for a time, about a year or so before I went to Shiz.”

“And what happened?”

“Tut tut. So curious, Elphie.”

“I am curious,” Elphaba said simply. “That’s why I asked. But you don’t have to tell me if you’d rather not.”

“What happened,” Galinda said slowly, “was what always happened. She was surprised by how much I wanted to go to Shiz. She didn’t understand why I wanted to leave, study what I love, and see more of the world.”

Elphaba tilted her head, her brow furrowing. “She didn’t support you?”

“It wasn’t that she didn’t support me.” Galinda chose her words with care. “She just didn’t understand it. She was happy here, with her life as it was, and she wanted me to be happy with that too. And even when things were good, I always felt like I was performing a little. Like I was being the version of myself she wanted, not just… me.”

Elphaba’s expression softened. “I see. But do you feel—?”

“No.” Galinda shook her head and smiled. “No, I don’t feel that way at all with you. With you, I’ve never felt like I had to be anything other than exactly who I am. You make it easy. Nothing ever felt like this, believe me. And you must understand, Elphie, back in the day I was always waiting for something more.”

“Back in the day—” Elphaba mused, her eyes drifting away as she thought. “And now?”

“Now—” Galinda reached up to adjust the collar of Elphaba’s shirt, smoothing a wrinkle that didn’t really need fixing. “Now, I think I found it.”

“Very sweet of you to say,” Elphaba said, tiny smile tucked at the corner of her lips. Looking extremely kissable. So Galinda kissed her right there.

Elphaba leaned into her, but she still hesitated—obviously nervous about something, so Galinda didn’t push. No, she knew that look by now. It was the one Elphaba wore when she was trying to talk herself out of a thought, as if willing it to disappear by sheer force of will. But Galinda also knew that never worked for long.

“What is it?” she asked softly.

Elphaba’s fingers flexed against Galinda’s, just slightly. All of her reactions were twitchy and small, as if she never allowed herself the space to fully have them. It was so unlike Galinda’s own way of feeling everything at once, but she understood why Elphie was like this. Always wary of calling too much attention to herself.

Galinda wanted to tell her that all of her attention was always on her anyway—but more than that, she wanted to hear what Elphaba had to say.

“Nothing,” Elphaba said softly. “I’m happy. I’m happy and I’m getting used to it, that’s all.”

“That’s certainly part of it. But not all of it, right?”

“Well I do think about—I did say I liked you were my first everything, and I do, but I just wonder if maybe you’d prefer someone more—”

“If you say ‘experienced,’ I will pinch you,” Galinda warned.

“Don’t pinch me.” Another smile danced on Elphaba’s lips. “Then I’d wake up.”

Galinda laughed. “Darling, you’re not dreaming.”

“Feels like it,” she mumbled. “I was clueless for the longest time and it must’ve been so frustrating for you. I feel like we—wasted a lot of time on that. So I don’t want you to get tired of having to teach me—”

“Oh no, no, no. No. No. A thousand times no. Tired of you? Wee-ho. No. Never happening, I promise. I swear. And you know, it wasn’t that I was frustrated with you—I was frustrated with myself, sometimes, but mostly I was scared you wouldn’t feel the same. And, Elphie, that’s not your fault at all, you didn’t even know if you did.”

“But I should’ve known.”

Galinda shook her head. “We didn’t waste time, trust me. And I’m not having to ‘teach’ you anything. If anything I’m just showing you a thing or two. But you’re doing perfectly well.”

“You don’t have to lie to me, Galinda, it’s—”

“Why in Oz would I lie? And besides, don’t you see how special this whole thing is to me?” She reached up to trace Elphaba’s cheekbone with gentle fingers. “That I get to show you all these wonderful things about being in love, and watch you discover them? I don’t care that you haven’t done this before. I don’t care that I have. None of that matters to me. Elphie, I adore you—and please say something before I do something unwise.”

Elphaba laughed. “Like what?”

Like ask you to marry me. Galinda cleared her throat. Goodness, but she and Elphaba had been ‘official’ for a single day.

Surely Galinda was moving too fast.

“Never mind that,” Galinda said. “I just want you to understand. I don’t want you to be intimidated.” She laughed nervously. “If anything it should be the other way around. I should be the one trying very hard to leave a good impression.”

“What ever for? I don’t think I’ll ever need to compare you to anyone else.”

Alright, fine. Spring wedding. Galinda marked it down for hopefully soon.

“Oh, Elphie, you and your absurdly simple romanticism,” Galinda said while Elphaba gave her the strangest of looks, laughing softly. “You can’t just say things like that.”

“Why not?”

“Because—you make it very hard for me to remember we’ve only been together for a day when you do. Although, maybe it doesn’t matter. In my head I’ve been with you for quite some time. You’re just catching up.”

Elphaba was still laughing, the sound warm and genuine, as she traced her fingers up Galinda’s forearm. “Is that so? And when exactly did this relationship start in your head?”

“You’d love to know.”

“I would, actually. That’s why I asked.”

Did Elphaba not realize Galinda would never, ever, ever, ever confess such things to anyone else? Probably not.

“I don’t know,” she said. “The Ozdust, maybe. I hugged you and all I could think of was ‘Oh. I’m hers entirely.’”

Elphaba made the most incomprehensible little noise of disbelief. “You’re not serious.”

“I’m entirely serious. Serious as the grave. Serious as a whole graveyard.”

“I bet you tell that to every girl.”

Galinda rolled her eyes. “Idiot. Shut up.”

“I didn’t hear a no.”

“I don’t. You’re special to me.”

“I bet you also tell that to—”

Galinda kissed her, cupping her face, letting her lips linger on hers, letting their breaths catch and tangle when she pulled away and pressed their foreheads together. “I really don’t.”

“Noted,” Elphaba whispered. “I remember that hug, too. I thought my heart would stop. I’d never been held like that before, like I was…”

She trailed off, words visibly disappearing somewhere between her chest and her throat.

“So, um—what was that about a spring wedding?”

Galinda jerked back. Heat bloomed across her face. “Oh, Oz. Did I say that out loud?”

“Mhm.”

“Oh, aren’t I horrible? Don’t laugh!”

“I don’t think you’re horrible.” Elphaba did not stop laughing. “You’re pretty great.”

“Pretty great.” Galinda laughed, too. “Why, thank you, Elphie. You’re not—scared?”

“Of what?”

“Well, just—moving too fast. Not that I was saying I want to marry you, but I wasn’t not saying that, it’s just—oh, you terrible, mean thing, would you cease your laughter!”

“Sorry,” Elphaba said, not, in fact, ceasing her laughter. “Sorry, I—so I suppose talks of marriage aren’t common for couples who’ve been together for a day? I wouldn’t know.”

“Actually.” Galinda tapped her chin. “Yes, this is very common.”

Galinda really needed to hurry and find that spell to bottle someone’s laugh. Elphaba’s was just too beautiful to risk losing.

“I’m not scared of moving too fast,” Elphaba said, painfully earnest as always. Of course she could tell Galinda was still embarrassed—and nervous. “If anything, I have more trouble believing you want to move fast at all—with me, I mean.”

“Elphaba—”

“I know,” she said. “I know, I’m getting better at believing it, trust me. But, still.” She shrugged. “I’m not scared. I’m too happy to be scared. And I trust you too much to be scared. And besides—I think it’s good for me that you, uh, like me so much.”

Galinda blinked. Her bouts of unchecked enthusiasm were good for Elphie? Endearing, even? That made sense. It was nice to feel wanted. Perhaps this relationship of theirs was perfectly balanced.

Elphaba clearly needed someone who was as vocally in love with her as Galinda was.

And Galinda, well, she just needed her Elphie.

“I agree, it is quite good for you,” Galinda said. “And you know me, I love helping others. Can I kiss you? I brought you here to kiss you, you know. Though soul-searching is always welcomed, too—but I really want to kiss you.”

“I don’t think you have to ask at all,” Elphaba said, her voice dropping to that velvety tone that made Galinda’s heart pirouette in her chest.

Galinda didn’t need further invitation. She leaned in, one hand sliding up to cradle Elphaba’s jaw, her fingers brushing the soft skin beneath. Elphaba’s eyes fluttered closed, dark lashes casting shadows against her cheeks, and Galinda took a moment to simply admire her—the perfect curve of her lips, the slight furrow of concentration between her brows, the way she tilted her head just so, as if offering herself to Galinda’s touch.

“You’re staring again,” Elphaba murmured without opening her eyes.

“Because you’re worth staring at,” Galinda whispered, closing the distance.

Before their lips could meet, though—a voice broke through from the front of the house.

“What in the name of Oz has happened to my garden? Galinda, come here this instant!”

“Oh, for the love of—” Galinda hissed, grabbing Elphaba’s hand. “Can’t even get an ounce of peace in this godforsaken house! I’ve had it!”

She marched them back toward the front door, muttering a string of things that were perhaps not very prim and proper for a young lady of her status.

Momsicle stood by the hedges, bewildered, staring at the now-blooming clusters of delicate pink flowers. She looked up when she spotted them.

“Did you—?”

“Your garden is having a great day, it seems,” Galinda said. “Better than mine, anyhow.”

“Gardens don’t have ‘good days,’” Momsicle said flatly. “These weren’t supposed to bloom for another three weeks. And—Galinda, where are you going?”

“Upstairs!”

“Maybe it was climate change?” Elphaba suggested over her shoulder, unable to stop Galinda from dragging her inside.

The last thing they heard was: “I can tell it was magic!”

As night fell, Galinda contemplated the whole open door business.

“I could install a sliding door,” she was telling Elphie, eyeing the offending white door of her bedroom like it had personally betrayed her. “I mean, they just said the door had to be open, but sliding doors don’t close—they merely reposition. Right?”

“You’re the one pursuing architecture,” Elphaba said, bundling her braids in two smaller braids for the night. She worked without even needing a mirror, and Galinda had to try very hard not to stare at her hands—or stare at her at all, since Elphaba had changed and was ready for bed. “You know more than I do.”

“Or a revolving bookcase.” Galinda snapped her fingers. “That’s just furniture that happens to rotate, the door functionality is merely incidental. Not to mention it also doesn’t close.”

“Will we have time for all that?”

Galinda groaned.

Elphaba, the fool, laughed at her. “Galinda, maybe you should just get ready for bed too.”

“The closet!” Galinda gasped. “Momsie said the door stays open, but she didn’t specify which door. Thoughts?”

Elphaba nudged her shoulder, still focused on her braids, and turned around—offering absolutely no help whatsoever. Lovely, lovely Elphie, and yet completely unhelpful!

But then Galinda noticed something unfamiliar about the way Elphaba moved.

Something very unfortunate, though not surprising, was that Elphaba did not own much sleepwear. Something very fortunate—and also not surprising—was that Galinda had taken it upon herself to remedy this, and had been more than happy to buy her appropriate things for bed.

Elphaba was not picky; she liked loose, soft nightgowns that wouldn’t get in the way. She did not let Galinda buy her anything transparent or short or with a lot of cleavage—also quite unfortunate—but then again, that had been before they were properly together. Maybe Elphaba would change her tune now. If not for herself then for Galinda’s sake.

No, wait, this wasn’t the time to be thinking about nightgowns. Elphaba looked perfectly content in her dark, airy slip, and since it left her arms bare, Galinda was also perfectly content.

No, but no, she had to focus. Something was wrong with Elphie.

“Elphie?” Galinda asked tentatively, watching her rummage through the vanity for her hair ties. “Is something wrong?”

“No, there’s nothing wrong—” Elphaba said, and said something else, but since there was nothing wrong Galinda started staring again. At Elphaba’s back. Her legs. Her shoulders. Oh, awful. Galinda was blushing. Oz, she was blushing just by looking. She felt like a lonesome maiden on her wedding night. “Galinda?”

“Elphaba.” Galinda cleared her throat, and forced her eyes up. “Yes?”

“I was just thinking,” Elphaba said. “About how often you stare at me.”

“Oh, sorry,” Galinda said quickly. “I know I do. Sorry. That makes you uncomfortable.”

Elphaba shook her head, smiling a little. “Try again.”

Ah.

Elphaba had told her to stop holding back. She had said she wasn’t scared of moving fast. She was a slow learner—but she learned.

Galinda closed the door.

“Galinda.” Elphaba shot her a warning look, but her voice was amused. “The rules—”

“I don’t care about rules,” Galinda said. “Do you?”

Elphaba shrugged. “Only sometimes, to be honest. But I don’t want to be disrespectful—”

“You won’t be,” Galinda said firmly. “I don’t think they’ll notice—unless we’re really loud. You can be quiet, can’t you?”

Elphaba just raised her eyebrows.

So she had something to say but couldn’t really say it—figured. She was shy. And yet—it worked. Elphie was going to get her way after all.

Galinda sauntered over and perched herself on the vanity, pulling Elphaba in by the hips. “And if you like it when I stare at you,” she said slowly, “surely I can do more than staring.”

“Like what?” Elphaba’s hands found their rightful place at Galinda’s waist. It was the first time Elphaba touched her without even the slightest hint of hesitation, and it made Galinda’s blood sing. “Show me.”

Galinda grabbed Elphaba’s face to kiss her like she had been wanting to kiss her this entire time, this entire year. She sucked Elphaba’s bottom lip into her mouth and let her hands roam down the elegant sides of her neck, down those glorious arms of hers, where she readjusted Elphaba’s hold around her so she could take the hint and pull Galinda flush against her.

And, Oz, the road for Elphaba to learn how to take a hint had been a long, arduous road. But she’d made it. She could most deliciously take a hint now.

“I don’t really—” Elphaba was breathless. “—know what to do with you.”

“Then just follow my lead,” said Galinda. “Or, better yet, ask.”

“I think—following is fine. For now, at least.”

What a gift from the heavens, Elphie was.

“Kiss my neck.” Galinda slid a hand on the nape of Elphaba’s neck to guide her where she wanted to, and Elphaba complied immediately.

Clumsily, adorably, Elphaba’s mouth found Galinda’s skin with shaky fascination, while her hands moved with far more confidence, exploring the curve of her hips and waist. The heat built higher, crackling through Galinda until she groaned aloud, breath catching.

“Tell me if I do something wrong,” Elphaba whispered.

”Can’t you tell you’re not?” Galinda let out a strained laugh, letting her own hands wander, mapping the contours of Elphaba’s shoulders, the elegant line of her back. “Just keep doing exactly what you’re doing.”

“Good?” Elphaba murmured, trailing her mouth down Galinda’s throat.

“Darling.” Galinda laughed breathlessly. “You’re doing wonderfully. Trust me.”

Elphaba fully shuddered against her, and Galinda thought that she might simply die. Really, how had she gotten so lucky, to end up with someone this precious, right here in her arms?

“I like this perfume on you,” Elphaba mumbled. “So sweet.”

“I know you like it. That’s why I wear it.”

“How’d you know I like it?”

Galinda laughed again, scratching her nails gently at the base of Elphie’s scalp. “You’re always smelling me.”

“I don’t do that.” Elphaba pulled away, frowning. “That’s weird.”

“Elphie, it’s cute. I love it.” Galinda smiled at her, gave her a very soft kiss, knowing it would leave Elphie wanting more. She was a little greedy, always very eager—so adorable. “You’re so beautiful, Elphie.”

Elphaba was the one who kissed her again, her breathing slowly becoming more and more labored, but her hands were growing bolder and bolder, exploring with a gentle curiosity that was somehow more intoxicating than anything Galinda had experienced before.

Galinda found herself pressed against Elphaba in ways that sent heat racing through her veins. When Elphaba’s lips moved to her neck again, Galinda had to bite her lip to keep from making a sound that would certainly carry beyond even the closed door. Mhm. Maybe Elphie wouldn’t be the one who needed to keep quiet after all.

“Everything about you’s so sweet.” Elphaba’s voice was low, scratchy, her breath a whisper against Galinda’s pulse. “Perfume, lip gloss, the way you kiss me, the things you say to me… Even the way you taste is sweet. So sweet—”

“Only for you.”

“For me?” Elphaba chuckled against Galinda’s skin. She sounded completely dazed now, as if she were intoxicated. It was thrilling to be the cause and effect of Elphie slowly unraveling like this. “All so sweet. And all mine. My sweet. It’s all so—”

Galinda grabbed her face, pulled her back to look at her directly in the eyes. “What did you call me?”

Elphaba blinked herself halfway out of her haze. “Mm?”

“I liked that.”

“My sweet?”

“Yes.”

“Oh, I—” Blushing again. Bashful again. Goodness gracious, but Galinda could just eat her up. “I called you mine too, didn’t I? I’m sorry, I didn’t mean—”

“Hush now.” Galinda pressed her thumb over Elphaba’s lips. “You didn’t lie.”

Elphaba’s eyes widened, and her pupils were so dark and wide. Galinda sighed, and when she pulled Elphaba closer to kiss her again, Galinda was sweet no longer.

Chapter Text

“Elphie, you must try this one next,” Galinda insisted, picking up a delicate spiral-shaped pastry dusted with powdered sugar. “Momsie’s legendary honey-lavender pinwheels.”

Without thinking, Elphaba leaned forward and accepted the offering directly from Galinda’s fingers. It was only after the sweet had melted on her tongue that she realized how natural the gesture had become.

Less than a week into being Galinda’s... girlfriend? Partner? The terminology still felt unfamiliar, like a borrowed coat, but the reality of it settled into her skin with the comfort of something well-worn.

“Good?” Galinda asked.

“Mhm. Thank you.” Elphaba nodded, returning the smile before turning to Kalena. “It’s lovely.”

“The secret is in the folding,” Kalena said from the counter, elbow-deep in meringue. “Twenty-seven layers, each one brushed with lavender-infused butter.”

“And patience,” added Iliana, carrying in a tray of freshly baked tart shells. “Something you only possess in the kitchen, my love.”

“I have patience for important things,” Kalena retorted with a playful sniff.

The Upland kitchen looked like a confectionery had exploded. Every surface was covered with bowls, trays, platters of half-decorated pastries, ribbons of piped cream, open cookbooks, and at least three kinds of edible glitter.

Elphaba and Galinda had found it like this upon returning from lunch. When Elphaba had inquired about the reason, Kalena had merely said she felt like baking a small thing or two.

Apparently, this was a regular occurrence, and only Elphaba found it out of the ordinary.

Galinda sat on a stool by the counter, kicking her socked feet back and forth as she reached for a piece of funnel cake covered in cream and caramel. “This one’s my favorite. Try it, Elphie.”

“You’ve said something is your favorite like ten times,” Elphaba said, trying not to get cream all over her face as she took another bite.

“They’re all my favorites.”

Elphaba frowned. “Doesn’t that defeat the purpose of having a favorite?”

“You’ll ruin my appetite if you argue with me,” Galinda said idly. “Look! The cream puffs! They have hazelnuts—these are definitely my favorite ones.”

Elphaba accepted that one, too, though her tolerance for sugar was much lower than Galinda’s, especially now barely an hour after lunch.

It was strange—how little and yet how much had changed between the two of them. They had always gravitated toward each other. The casual touches, the shared food, the private jokes. Now there was a new layer of meaning. A secret thrill.

“I think these are actually my favorite ones,” Elphaba said. “I like hazelnuts.”

“I’ll make a note of that,” Galinda said with a nod.

“I see you also appreciate a good pastry, Elphaba,” Kalena called from the whipping station. “I knew you had excellent taste.”

“In desserts and in women,” Iliana said with a wink that made Galinda groan and Elphaba chuckle.

“You two are incapable of behaving,” said Galinda. “That’s why we don’t bring you anywhere!”

“Just a bit of teasing,” said Iliana, refilling everyone’s lemonade glasses. “Don’t fret so, duckie. It’s good for you. Not to mention we’re letting you off easy, considering you broke our rules.”

Galinda went beet red, shining like the glossy cherries adorning the tart she’d been about to put in her mouth. “You—realized?”

“Of course,” said Kalena. “Nothing that goes on in this house is without our knowing, sweetling. We simply didn’t say anything to avoid an awkward conversation.”

“Of course,” Galinda grumbled. “Because this conversation isn’t awkward at all.”

“Don’t be so sour, Galinda. Eat your dessert.”

Elphaba had been doing her best impression of a fly on the wall, her face also overly warm, and she was grateful no one turned to her. Her eyes wandered uncomfortably, watching as Iliana reached over to brush a bit of flour from Kalena’s cheek. Such a natural, effortless gesture.

Elphaba’s chest ached with longing—but not for something she lacked. No, she was quite aware of all she’d gained. The longing was for time. Time to build quiet, habitual intimacy like that.

Would there be enough time? In less than a month, she and Galinda would return to Shiz. Would what they’d built here survive the return to reality?

Elphaba found herself studying Galinda’s profile as she laughed at something her mothers said. How strange, and yet how right, that this face had become so dear to her—so essential. She knew every expression now: the subtle narrowing of her eyes when she was thinking hard but didn’t want anyone to notice, the particular curl of her lip when she was pretending to be annoyed, the way her whole face seemed to light from within when she was truly happy, like she was now.

“Hey.” Galinda leaned against Elphaba’s side, licking a bit of cream from her thumb in a way that momentarily distracted Elphaba from all coherent thought. “I can hear you thinking too hard. Stop it.”

Elphaba laughed. “No, it’s not—it’s all fine. I promise.”

Elphaba liked Galinda everywhere. In the lecture halls at Shiz, always taking notes with perfect cursive. In city streets, where she moved on a current of confidence, as if the world had been built with her in mind. In the privacy of their dormitory, her face softened by the pink glow of a bedside lamp as she laughed at her own jokes.

But Elphaba thought she might like her best like this. So relaxed and at peace, so at home.

“It’s just—I’m going to miss this place,” Elphaba said, surprising herself with the admission.

“We’ll come back,” Galinda said, her voice soft but certain. They spoke in low tones, ignored by the two women at the counter who were far too busy measuring spoonfuls of vanilla extract. But Galinda was only looking at Elphaba. “Every break, every holiday, if you want. And after graduation—”

She trailed off, but the implication lingered. After graduation, they could choose where to build a life together. Elphaba’s plans had never reached that far; she’d never imagined having a say in her own future—let alone sharing it with someone who wanted her exactly as she was.

Elphaba didn’t respond right away. Her mind snagged on after graduation like a loose thread caught on the wind. There was a quiet kind of terror in that—so much uncertainty—but also something like hope. Galinda said it like it was simple. Like they really could have that choice. Like they might get to choose each other.

And why wouldn’t they?

“After graduation,” she echoed, tasting the words.

Galinda smiled gently. “We’ll figure it out. Wherever we end up, it’ll be our place.”

Elphaba was saved from having to reply by Kalena’s voice, sharp as ever: “Galinda, sweetling, how many cream puffs have you eaten?”

Galinda did a valiant job of looking affronted. “I don’t appreciate being policed in my own house.”

“I’m not policing you, I just wanted a couple. There were twelve in this batch—”

“I only had five.”

“There’s one left.”

“I shared them with Elphie!”

Elphaba had only had the one.

“Is that true, Elphie?” Kalena asked, raising an eyebrow. She managed to look quite intimidating, even with flour all over her hands.

“We shared them,” Elphaba said. Oh, well, it wasn’t a lie. “They’re very good. I would have more, but I’m crossing my threshold between ‘too sweet’ and ‘dangerously decadent.’ Apologies.”

Kalena laughed. “Oh, darling. Given who you’re dating, I’d say you crossed that threshold a week ago.”

“Momsie!” Galinda hissed, her mouth full of the last cream puff.

“What?” Kalena was unbothered. “I’m flattering you, sweetheart. You can have all the dessert you want, but do try to vary so you leave some for the rest of us. Now! Final round, girls. Raspberry-glazed butter cake. Needs a name and needs honest feedback. Don’t be gentle. Actually, be gentle. I’m fragile today.”

Iliana leaned over, inspecting the glossy surface. “Looks like something that should be stored in a glass case guarded by a very small but very committed dragon.”

“Exactly what I was thinking.” Kalena nodded, already cutting slices. “Elphaba, you first.”

“I—really don’t think I can physically ingest another—”

“You’ll hurt her feelings,” Galinda stage-whispered, elbowing her gently.

Elphaba, who had only known Kalena for a month or so but had already concluded she could verbally disarm a small army with nothing but a pastry brush, looked skeptical. “Would I?”

“She pretends she doesn’t care, but she has a scorebook hidden in the pantry with all the things we’ve ever said,” Iliana said.

“I do not!” Kalena scoffed. “It’s not hidden. It’s clearly labeled.”

Elphaba laughed and accepted a slice, if only to ensure continued survival. Galinda did the same, and between bites of cake and bickering about whether Ruby Drizzle Delight was a terrible name (it was), the rhythm of the banter only grew more pleasant.

Elphaba found herself laughing along, and watching again. Watching the easiness of the afternoon. The kitchen was warm—not just from the oven heat, but from the movement, the scent of pastry and citrus, the soft click of measuring spoons, the rustle of linen.

Her gaze drifted back to Galinda, now biting into a muffin and making a sound that was definitely not meant for polite company.

What had Elphaba ever done to deserve this? To deserve her? The question arose unbidden, as it often did in moments of unexpected happiness. Galinda had given her so much—not just her heart, but a family, a place that felt like home, a summer that had transformed Elphaba in ways she was only beginning to understand.

She should give something back. Something that said: I see all you’ve done for me, and I want to do that for you too.

How did one craft a gift that said that? That said you’ve shown me what home feels like?

Elphaba, who had never had someone to give things to, found herself wanting—aching—to give something in return. Not out of obligation, but because love, she was coming to realize, was a kind of wanting.

She didn’t know what yet. Just that she would.

The compassion that fueled Elphaba’s righteous anger now found itself expressed in something gentler, but no less powerful—the fierce, protective tenderness she felt for Galinda. Not the perfect, polished Galinda that others saw, but the real one: brilliant, ambitious, sometimes insecure, always determined. The one who read architecture theory for pleasure and annotated her textbooks with insights that rivaled their professors’. The one who had seen Elphaba, truly seen her, when everyone else was content to look away.

The first person who, after wronging Elphaba, had stepped up to try and make things right.

Yes, Elphaba would find something special to give her. But for now, she would keep the idea close, let it develop in secret. The surprise would be part of the gift.

Galinda loved surprises, after all.

That first week as a couple together, they went everywhere with more unbridled enthusiasm than before.

They lunched at charming, hidden hole-in-the-wall places where Galinda could sneak kisses without anyone noticing. Evenings were spent in odd corners of the city—obscure museums, basement theater performances, outdoor concerts in plazas strung with glowing lights. One day Galinda insisted on antique shopping, and the next she booked them a gondola ride down the old canals. Elphaba found herself saying yes to things before she even thought them through.

Not that she would’ve said no to anything.

It ought to have been physically exhausting, perhaps, but Elphaba kept uncovering reserves of energy she hadn’t known she possessed. She made the mistake of mentioning this over breakfast—which was still always taken with Galinda’s mothers, whether at home or at some lavish café.

“It’s the energy of love!” Kalena had exclaimed, clapping her hands.

Elphaba had nearly dropped her toast.

It was, in truth, more than just being in love. It was the feeling of being wanted, welcomed, invited to linger. Being with Galinda was kind. She was sweet, she made Elphaba laugh, and she was so genuine in everything she did there was no room to believe it might be an act.

Elphaba was still learning how to be adored so openly, but she was trying.

In the meantime, she went out with Galinda and got to know the city even more. Got to know her even more. As much attention as Elphaba paid to her—and she did love doing that—Galinda spent just as much time doing the same.

They avoided crowded areas and peak hours; every restaurant they visited had plenty of meat-free dishes. The antiques, the history and science museums, the quieter parks tucked behind old cathedrals—none of those stops were by chance. Galinda never dragged her into noisy shops or the high society luncheons her mothers enjoyed. She never complained when Elphaba lingered over the plaques in historical exhibits or spent half an hour inspecting collections of weathered maps.

Galinda didn’t say it outright, but most outings were tailored to Elphaba.

Well, sometimes she did say it out loud, offhandedly and with things like: “This bookstore café has a whole section on banned literature. The coffee’s way too bitter, but I know you’ll like it. And what are sugar cubes for, after all?”

Galinda loved her city and knew it inside and out. She took Elphaba to places Elphaba would never have imagined someone like Galinda enjoying. But they all had a story, an afternoon with friends, a childhood memory with her parents, or a moment from a younger Galinda who had been eager to explore every corner and uncover every secret. Cities fascinated her, and she had the finest specimen of study right here.

One afternoon they visited a bookshop so small it was practically invisible from the street. It doubled as a binder’s workshop, and Elphaba was quiet for nearly forty minutes, utterly absorbed by the scent of parchment and glue and the stacks of journals with handmade covers. Galinda didn’t rush her. She walked quietly beside Elphaba, flipping through a pamphlet on the process of bookbinding.

“Do you want one?” she asked, when Elphaba paused over a clothbound notebook dyed burnt yellow.

“I’m just looking,” Elphaba replied.

Galinda bought it anyway.

She didn’t present it with fanfare or flowery words. She merely slipped it into Elphaba’s satchel as they left. When Elphaba found it later that night, there was a daisy pressed inside the front cover and a tiny note in Galinda’s careful script that read: ♡ Your favorite color! ♡

It was things like that.

Galinda was both subtle and not, depending on her mood. Short scribbled messages were as common as her telling Elphaba she would give her the world. It was endearing—and sort of addicting.

Elphaba liked being treated nicely, after all. Who would’ve thought.

The days passed. Elphaba wrote to her sister because she missed her, yes, but also because she needed a reality check, some reassurance that there was still a world outside of Frottica. Not that Elphaba wanted to go back to whatever that world was, but she had to make sure she wasn’t imagining this whole thing.

Nessa responded with a chirpy letter full of updates about the house, about Dulcibear, about her own summer. She didn’t mention their father at all. Her closing remarks were laced with polite concern and barely veiled astonishment that Elphaba was, as she put it, “actually enjoying herself.”

In the days between sending the letter and receiving a reply, Elphaba had forgotten—caught up in her lovesick, summer-induced haze—that she’d confessed something rather dire: that she was afraid of ruining what she had found.

“And, by the way, you can’t ruin whatever you have going on right now,” read the last lines of Nessarose’s letter. “I’m pretty sure you could set all of Galinda’s clothes on fire and she would still love you.”

Elphaba had written back in kind, and signed off with: “Wait. Did you know about Galinda’s feelings before I came here?”

And a few days later, Nessarose’s succinct response: “Elphaba. Everyone knew except for you. I started feeling bad for her.”

Huh.

Elphaba absolutely had to get something for Galinda. Only—well, it was complicated. How to get something for the girl who had everything?

On the surface, it wasn’t complicated at all. Galinda was so easily delighted. The first time Elphaba remembered how she took her tea, she’d squealed so loudly it was a wonder the glassware didn’t vibrate off the shelves. She made it seem like every kindness was the best gift in the world.

But that was the issue. How to give her something that meant more?

“I think your sister is right,” Galinda was saying, draped over Elphaba on a living room settee that was far too small for two. “I definitely wouldn’t like it if you set all my clothes on fire—a lot of it is vintage or one-of-a-kind made for me—but I would forgive you.”

“Thank you. You are very forgiving.” Elphaba traced idle patterns on the small of Galinda’s back, distracted and content. The house was always bathed in sunlight and smelled like lemons and flowers. Elphaba loved being here as much as she loved prancing up and down Frottica.

“Only when it comes to you.” Galinda had her head on Elphaba’s chest, one leg thrown over hers. While Elphaba tried to focus on reading, Galinda pressed tiny kisses to her collarbone, making that impossible. “Besides, why would you want to burn all my clothes? I can only imagine your perverse motives for doing such a thing. And I’ll have you know I am absolutely on board with said perverse motives, and I even have some of my own.”

Elphaba laughed while Galinda giggled, curling up even closer to Elphaba, kissing her on the cheek this time.

“But was she right about the other thing? Did everyone truly know?”

“Oh,” Galinda said. “Yes, most likely. But that’s perfectly alright, Elphie. It sent the right message to people.”

“And what message would that have been?” Elphaba asked, raising an eyebrow.

“That no one else was allowed to pursue you, of course.”

Elphaba snorted. “I don’t think anyone would’ve imagined—”

“Good,” Galinda mumbled into her shirt. “I don’t want other people imagining you.”

“That’s not what I was going to say.”

“Doesn’t matter.” Galinda kissed the side of Elphaba’s neck, and Elphaba chuckled again.

She tried to go back to reading, but her mind kept drifting. It didn’t help that Galinda continued to press sleepy kisses to her skin. But Elphaba’s thoughts were elsewhere still.

She wanted something to hold onto. Something that could last beyond this golden blur of days. A way to remember. A way back.

Not for herself—well, maybe a little—but for Galinda. Something she could carry. Something that would anchor her when the world spun too fast. Something quiet and steady, like the way Elphaba loved her.

“You’re not actually reading,” Galinda accused, peering up at her with narrowed eyes. “You’ve been on the same page for ten minutes.”

“I’m absorbing it slowly.”

Galinda giggled. “Am I distracting you?”

In more ways that she could possibly imagine.

Galinda smiled like she already knew the answer, and didn’t even let Elphaba say anything. “Be honest, darling. Is it my devastating charm or my scandalous leg placement?”

“Hard to say,” Elphaba replied, moving a hand to rest on said scandalous leg. “Both are formidable forces.”

Galinda nuzzled against her throat with a satisfied little hum. “You should know I’m quite determined to make you forget every single letter on that page.”

“You’re succeeding, and I don’t really mind. You’re a wonderful distraction.”

“Yes?”

“Oh, yes.” Elphaba smiled down at her. “So warm and soft and talkative.”

“You’re welcome,” Galinda said, tilting her chin up for a quick, feather-light kiss. “I consider myself an immersive sensory experience. Now, hold me properly. I’m trying to fall asleep on top of you.”

Elphaba didn’t say anything to that. She just kissed the top of her head and held her a little tighter.

Galinda sighed contentedly, already drifting. “You’re not allowed to move. Ever.”

“Understood.”

The sun moved slowly across the walls. Outside, the day carried on. Inside, they stayed where they were, quiet and wrapped in something safe and sure.

The lake behind the Upland summer house wasn’t particularly grand or famous, but Galinda had always liked it better than any of the glitzy coastal spots.

The water shimmered like a pane of glass, light and clean, ringed by manicured shrubbery and trimmed reeds. A whitewashed boathouse stood to one side like a backdrop from a romantic play, and the pier that stretched into the lake had recently been restored with polished wood planks and carved posts that gleamed in the sun.

Galinda loved it. There were fancier places to go swimming, of course, but this one was hers.

Or, well, hers and Elphie’s now.

Galinda stretched out on a sun-warmed lounge chair at the edge of the dock, tucked under the shade of a parasol. Elphaba was taking forever to change, and Galinda was being very patient, all things considered.

Getting Elphie into a swimsuit had been... delicate work. Frottican swimwear wasn’t exactly daring, but it was still far from anything Elphaba had worn before. Galinda had searched high and low for something modest enough to keep Elphaba from bolting, yet still stylish enough to do her justice. The final pick had a high neckline, wide straps, and reached almost to the knee, black with thin stripes of blue and white, and a soft sheen to the fabric that caught the light like velvet. Elphaba had stood in front of the mirror for a full minute before saying anything, which for her might as well have been a standing ovation.

Galinda thought she looked divine in it. Naturally.

She couldn’t wait to see her again! The excitement sprang her up from her chair, and she pushed her sunglasses to the top of her head as she turned toward the path leading down from the house. It had been a four-hour train ride to the edges of Mount Runcible, and Galinda was exhausted and she wanted to see her beloved!

Not to mention she had made herself pretty for Elphie! She’d let her hair down and was wearing an adorable white piece with pink dots and ruffles, and a skirt that was perhaps a little too short to count as a proper swimsuit cover. But it was fashionable! And Galinda so loved being the most scandalocious little fish in the sea.

“Elphie!” she called, voice lilting with cheer. “If you’re not out here in the next two clock ticks, I’m swimming out into the middle of the lake without you and you’ll have no choice but to rescue me dramatically!”

Only cicadas and mosquitoes answered.

Then: “Was this whole outing just an elaborate scheme to make me perform acts of heroism?” came Elphaba’s voice, dry as ever, drifting lazily from the tree-lined path.

Galinda stood at attention, grinning so wide it hurt.

And there she was—Elphaba Thropp, slowly descending toward the pier, arms folded awkwardly across her front like she could will herself invisible.

The bathing suit fit her perfectly.

Galinda had already known that, of course, but seeing her wear it again, under the sunlight, was simply fantastic. It hugged Elphaba’s frame like it had been tailored for her, modest but undeniably elegant. She looked delectable. It was almost unfair. Her braided hair was twisted into a thick bun tied with the cutest headscarf in existence, deep blue with white patterns, and she had never looked more kissable in her life.

“You look so good,” Galinda said, eager and utterly sincere.

Elphaba didn’t make eye contact. “You think?”

“Oh, Elphie, yes! Painfully pretty.” Galinda put out a hand. “Now come here before I get too overwhelmed and throw myself into the lake just to cool down. Seriously, you look like an artist’s muse who wandered into a summer romance novel. Here—stand on the end of the dock so I can get the full picture.”

“No,” Elphaba said, but she put her hand on Galinda’s anyway.

Galinda scooted to make room for her at the edge of the pier. “I want a painting of this moment. You, reluctant and sun-drenched in swimwear. Me, swooning at your feet.”

Elphaba laughed fondly, shaking her head. Her lovely hair updo revealed her ears, and even the tip of them were a darker green with how she was blushing. “I’m beginning to understand why you were so eager for this lake day.”

“Darling, I would’ve wanted a lake day regardless. But the view is certainly a bonus. Seriously, though, aren’t you tired?”

“Well, it was a long train ride—”

“No, not from that.” Galinda shook her head. “From running through my thoughts all day.”

Elphaba pushed her into the lake.

The water was ridiculously cold, which was annoying, but Galinda was laughing by the time she kicked herself up to the surface. “Elphaba! That was mean!”

“Sorry,” Elphaba said, not looking sorry. She was, however, deeply flustered, so Galinda considered the whole thing a success. It was hard to be very mad at Elphie when she looked that cute, and they both knew Galinda had come here to swim anyhow. “It was a reflex; you shouldn’t say things like that.”

Galinda treaded water, her hair plastered to her face in wet tendrils. She pushed it back dramatically, making sure to splash enough water to reach the dock. “You can’t silence my affections, Elphie!”

“I can certainly try,” Elphaba replied, though she was smiling, perched cross-legged at the edge of the pier, keeping her feet carefully away from the water.

“What if I’d drowned? What if I hadn’t known how to swim?”

“You know how to swim, Galinda,” Elphaba said flatly. “You brag about it all the time.”

“Well, of course. It’s a skill not many possess.” Galinda floated onto her back and let the sun warm her face. It was still stupidly cold, and though it should be refreshing against the summer heat it was just sort of uncomfortable. “Aren’t you coming in?”

Elphaba hesitated, eyeing the water with apprehension. She looked like a mistrustful little kitten. Just the cutest thing in the world. “I don’t know if I should.”

“You should. The water’s cold so I could really use someone to cling to,” Galinda said, swirling in a slow circle. “And I promise I won’t splash you. Much.”

“It’s not that.” Elphaba glanced over her shoulder toward the house, then back at the water. “It’s just—I’ve never actually...”

Understanding dawned on Galinda. “You don’t know how to swim?”

“I know how to swim,” Elphaba said, defensive. “Theoretically.”

“Elphie.” Galinda swam back to the pier. “Really?”

“It’s a skill not many possess,” Elphaba muttered.

“Why didn’t you say something?”

Elphaba shrugged, a slight flush darkening her cheeks. “You were so excited about this. I didn’t want to disappoint you.”

“You could never disappoint me,” Galinda said, her voice gentle. “I could teach you!”

“I’ll pass.” Elphaba sniffed. “I don’t like being near water that much, honestly.”

“So, again, why didn’t you say something!? We could’ve gone somewhere else.”

Elphaba didn’t answer right away. She leaned back on her hands and stared down at Galinda in the water, that familiar curl tugging at her mouth. “I rather like it here. Nice views.”

“Oh, is that it?” Galinda giggled, shielding her eyes from the sunlight. She tapped around her head for her sunglasses—Elphaba had the sun at her back and it was sort of blinding—but all she found was damp hair. “Look what you did, silly. I lost my sunglasses when you pushed me in!”

Elphaba looked genuinely guilty. “I’m—”

“It’s alright! You don’t have to apologize, I have countless pairs of them anyhow. And that was really funny—and I probably deserved it.”

“No, you didn’t deserve it,” Elphaba said, frowning. “Did you pack more? I can go get—”

“No! Don’t leave me.”

“It’ll be a minute at most.”

“I don’t ca-a-a-are,” Galinda whined. “Stay right here where I can see you. I’d be so lonely without you. I’d rather the sun blind me forever than be without you for even a clock tick, my love. You’re my sky and my air, Elphie.”

Elphaba chuckled, shaking her head. Amused. Fond. It made fuzziness blossom in Galinda’s chest, the way Elphaba looked at her. “Alright, sure. But where did your glasses fall? Can you see them?”

Galinda squinted into the clear water, but it was too deep to see anything past her own kicking feet. “I can’t see them, no—but don’t trouble yourself. I’m getting out anyway. It’s too cold.”

Elphaba tilted her head, considering something. She glanced around, as if making sure they were alone, then held her hand out over the water, palm down.

“What are you doing?” Galinda asked, treading water a few feet away.

“Shh,” Elphaba murmured, her face slipping into that familiar look of focused concentration Galinda had come to adore. “Just wait.”

The lake around Galinda went still—unnaturally so, no longer rippling with her movements. Then, slowly, something began to rise from the depths: her sunglasses, suspended in a shimmering bubble of water that hovered just above the surface.

“Elphie!” Galinda gasped, delighted.

The bubble drifted toward the dock, and Elphaba carefully plucked the sunglasses from it, making the water splash back into the lake.

“Here,” she said, shaking off the excess water and holding them out.

“That was incredible!” Galinda swam to the edge of the pier, grabbing hold of it and gazing up at Elphaba with wide eyes, completely ignoring the sunglasses. “Have you been practicing levitation spells behind my back?”

Elphaba shrugged, though her eyes glinted with a hint of pride. She propped the sunglasses atop Galinda’s head with nothing but gentleness. “Not behind your back. I haven’t tried that one since we left Shiz.”

“Well, you’re magnificent,” Galinda declared, then immediately shivered as a cooler current passed beneath her. “Thank you kindly for that. Now would you help me out? It’s positively glacial in here.”

“It can’t be that cold,” Elphaba said. “It’s the middle of summer.”

“Easy for you to say from up there. Look at how my teeth are chattering! Mountain lake water doesn’t warm up as quickly as you’d think. Come feel it.”

Reluctantly, Elphaba dipped her fingertips into the water. “It’s not that—” She stopped, surprised. “Oh. That is rather cold.”

“See? I’m going to turn blue soon, and while that might complement your green wonderfully, I’d rather not.”

Elphaba’s expression shifted to one of concern. “You should come out then.”

“Yes, yes.” Galinda sighed. “I suppose I’ll just have to huddle by myself in a towel while you sit there looking gorgeous and completely dry. What a shame, I so enjoy swimming.”

Something flickered across Elphaba’s face—determination, perhaps, or that now-familiar expression of stubborn unwillingness to let Galinda down. It vanished quickly, and she simply extended a hand to help Galinda up.

Something fizzled in the air. A faint wisp of energy. A fizzled thread of magic.

The shift was slow but unmistakable.

The water around Galinda stopped stinging. The chill faded. Warmth bloomed up from beneath, wrapping gently around her like a heated blanket pulled under the surface.

She went so still she sank a little, water lapping under her chin. “Elphie?”

“What?” Elphaba blinked, as if she hadn’t realized she’d done anything. Her hand was still outstretched above the water, waiting for Galinda to take it. Then her eyes widened slightly as realization dawned. “I used magic again, didn’t I?”

“It wasn’t on purpose?” Galinda asked softly. The cold that had been seeping into her bones receded as the temperature rose to something perfectly pleasant. “The water’s warm now.”

“It wasn’t on purpose, no,” Elphaba said, sheepish, but there was a pleased sort of glow curled at the edges of her mouth. “I was just thinking about how cold you looked. And how you were excited to be here.”

“Your magic is so considerate,” Galinda teased, dipping her head back with a sigh of pure bliss, luxuriating in the newly warmed water. “Oh, this is wonderful! How far does it extend? Is the whole lake warm now?”

Elphaba leaned forward over her knees, resting her chin on one hand as she watched her float. “I don’t know. I don’t think so? I think—just around you?”

“That’s more than enough.” Galinda beamed up at her. “You’re full of surprises today, aren’t you? Are you sure you don’t want to come in?”

“I’d rather watch,” Elphie said with that little smile of hers.

Galinda slid her sunglasses back on so she wouldn’t lose them again, then rolled onto her back, arms drifting out wide, hair fanning across the surface. She’d been swimming in this lake since childhood, but it had never felt quite this perfect—the water precisely the right temperature, the sun dappling through the trees, and Elphaba watching her from the dock with a quiet intensity that made Galinda’s heart flutter.

“You’re going to get bored just sitting there, you know.”

“I don’t think I will.”

“Well.” Galinda gave a dramatic sigh. “That’s very romantic of you. I suppose staring at your beloved is a perfectly valid summer lake activity. But this is really quite nice, Elphie. You should bottle this magic and sell it. Elphie’s Enchanted Hot Springs. We’d make a fortune.”

Elphaba snorted. She could’ve gone to sit in the chairs under the parasol shade, but Galinda chose to believe she stayed at the edge of the pier to more easily converse with her. “I don’t think I can do it on command.”

“Of course you can.” Galinda waved a dismissive hand, sending ripples across the surface. “At least if it was for me, you could.”

Elphaba snorted again, but her cheeks darkened and she didn’t say anything else. Which meant, of course, that Galinda was right.

A comfortable silence settled between them, broken only by the gentle splashing of Galinda’s occasional movements and the distant call of birds. Elphaba seemed lost in thought, her gaze drifting from Galinda to the hazy mountains beyond the trees, then back again.

“Galinda?” she asked at last, her voice carrying easily over the still water.

“Mmm?”

“Do you ever wonder what it would’ve been like if we’d met earlier?” Elphaba’s tone held a contemplative note. “If we’d grown up in the same town, maybe?”

Galinda paused her swimming, surprised by the question. “Like if you’d grown up in Frottica?”

“Or if you’d grown up in Nest Hardings.” Elphaba shrugged. “Either way. Do you think we would’ve gotten along? As children, I mean.”

Galinda considered this, gliding in lazy circles as she thought. “I got along with everyone when I was a child, I was rather charming. Just like I am now. It didn’t grow overnight, you know.”

“And I didn’t get along with anyone,” Elphaba said with a wry smile. “Little me was not particularly likable. So I suppose that answers that.”

“Wait a clock tick,” Galinda protested. “I was getting to the good part!”

“There’s a good part to this hypothetical childhood friendship that never happened?”

“Yes, silly!” Galinda huffed, then let out a thoughtful sigh, enveloped in the warmth of Elphie’s magic. “I think I would’ve been quite obsessed with you.”

“Really?” Elphaba raised an eyebrow. “I find that hard to believe.”

“Oh, completely.” Galinda kicked her feet behind her. “Imagine tiny me, in frocks with too many ribbons, sneaking after you everywhere because you had mysterious books and looked like you knew things.”

“You wouldn’t have made fun of me?”

Galinda considered this seriously, her nose scrunching. “I don’t know. I don’t think so. My mothers wouldn’t have let me get away with it, they would’ve been so mad at me—they were already so mad at me for being mean to you at Shiz. Especially Momsie, who apparently had to be physically restrained from going there to pull my ears.”

That drew a quiet chuckle from Elphaba, though her expression remained thoughtful. She rubbed her hands together absentmindedly, gaze flicking out over the water. “Children were always mean to me or to my sister. I threw rocks at them, sometimes. With my magic.”

“I would’ve helped you,” Galinda said cheerfully.

“My father always got mad at me.”

“Then I would’ve helped you throw rocks at him!” Galinda said, cheerier still, which earned another laugh. “Forget about your father. Do you see why I would’ve been obsessed? You had magic! My heart’s desire ever since I was little! And I wager you were just the most adorable child. Oh, oh—did you always need glasses?”

Elphaba smiled at her. “Mhm.”

Galinda squealed at the image. “Goodness, I’m positive you wore some that were simply too large for your tiny face. I really would’ve followed you around like a little duckling. I would’ve brought you sweets and handmade cards and stood up for you on the playground, and eventually you would’ve realized you were madly in love with me.”

Elphaba huffed a laugh. “Is that so?”

“Yes, yes. Elphie, listen to this. The story writes itself. The mysterious, quiet witch child and the ridiculous society brat, it would’ve been very romantic.”

“That sounds like a story I’d read and then scoff at for being too unrealistic.”

“I’m going to write it. I’ll read it aloud to you at bedtime.” Galinda sighed wistfully. Her heart ached a little—in a good way. In a too-full, sun-drenched, nothing-really-hurts kind of way. “We would’ve been great friends, Elphie, truly.”

“Friends,” Elphaba echoed, still smiling so prettily. “Just friends?”

“Well,” Galinda said. “Obviously more, eventually. But we would’ve had to grow up first. Though I absolutely would’ve had a terrible crush on you by age thirteen. At the latest.”

“So you would’ve had a crush,” Elphaba said. “But I would’ve been madly in love?”

“Yes, obviously. How could you resist me?” Galinda tossed her hair automatically, which promptly slapped her in the face with a splash of water. She recovered expertly from this, of course, and pushed it out of her glasses. She had no idea why Elphaba was laughing. “And just think how much more time I would’ve had to shower you with affection! Years and years more than we’ve had.”

“You’d have exhausted yourself,” Elphaba said, but her voice was warm, almost tender. “All that extra affection.”

“Never,” Galinda declared. “I have an infinite supply when it comes to you.” She pushed away from the dock, floating on her back again with her face turned up to the sky. “But that’s what I think would’ve happened. What do you think?”

Elphaba was quiet for a moment. “I think,” she said slowly, “that I would’ve been terrified of you.”

“Terrified?” Galinda’s eyes widened. “Of me?”

“Yes.” Elphaba nodded. “I remember being really scared—of my magic, of hurting people, of my father. I would’ve been scared of anyone who looked at me too kindly. Especially you. Confident, popular, the center of every room you walked into. Like looking at the sun.” She paused, softer now. “But I would’ve been drawn to you anyway. Like everyone else. Just like I was at Shiz.”

“Oh, Elphie.” Galinda let out a sigh, adoration swelling in her chest. “Elphie, Elphie, Elphie. My most beloved little reed—”

“Reed?”

“One just snagged on my foot,” Galinda said. “I thought it was cute. Whatever. The point is: I would’ve been even more drawn to you. And I do wish we had met sooner.”

“It’s alright. I don’t think I could’ve handled you any earlier.”

Galinda laughed and splashed water in her direction. “I’m not sure whether to be flattered or offended.”

“Both, probably,” Elphaba said with a grin, unbothered. “But mostly flattered.”

Galinda swam closer again, looking up at Elphaba with affection so open it was proably tangible. “Despite it all, I’m rather fond of how things turned out. I mean! You can warm lakes and melt my heart in equal measure. What more could I want? I must add ‘can warm lake water with her thoughts’ to the list of reasons why I adore you.”

Elphaba tilted her head, eyes curious and amused. “How long is this list?”

Galinda’s smile turned radiant. “Oh, Elphie. It’s a whole book! A medium-rare, very thick book!”

Her heart seized as Elphaba’s eyes met hers. It wasn’t something Galinda would ever forget. The way Elphaba looked at her, like Galinda was the lake and the sky and everything in between.

In between chuckles, Elphaba said, “Of course. Now, I don’t want to ruin your fun but I think we should head back inside. You’re getting sunburned.”

“I’m just blushing because you look so scrumptious.”

“No, Galinda… I-I mean—thank you. But you really are getting sunburned.”

Galinda felt about her cheeks and, yes, she was blushing, but there was a sting underneath. Just how long had they spent out here? Time really flew when she was with Elphie.

“But I like it here,” she said. “Just a little longer?”

Elphaba shook her head fondly. “Come on, my sweet. I don’t want you peeling for the next week.”

The term of endearment, still new enough to send a thrill through Galinda, made her acquiesce. She waded back to the dock, and let Elphaba help her up with both hands, her strong arms flexing under the sun.

Galinda immediately leaned against her the moment she was out of the water.

“I’m too exhausted to walk,” she declared, wrapping her arms around Elphaba’s waist and pressing her face against her shoulder. “You’ll have to carry me.”

“Galinda...” Elphaba began in that patient-but-exasperated tone she had perfected.

“Please?” Galinda looked up, and batted her eyelashes—and then removed her sunglasses so Elphaba could actually see her batting her eyelashes. “Please?” She even pouted.

Elphaba had a strange resistance to the eyelashes, but she never could resist the pout. She sighed and hooked Galinda’s sunglasses on her collar. “Fine,” she said. “On my back, then.”

“Yay!”

“Such a princess.”

“Oh! I like that one! You’ve my permission to call me that, too.”

“Never would’ve dared without your permission. Now hop on, princess.”

With effortless ease, Elphaba hoisted her onto her back, hands secure under Galinda’s thighs as they started the walk back to the house. Elphaba looked solid and defined, but she was actually rather soft in the way of someone who didn’t exercise often and ate books for breakfast. Still, she was strong. Every part of her was lovely.

Galinda wrapped her arms loosely around Elphaba’s neck, resting her chin on her shoulder and breathing in the scent of lakewater and sunshine that clung to her skin.

“Mmm. Thank you for carrying me,” Galinda mumbled, nuzzling the back of Elphaba’s shoulder. “You smell nice. Like lake.”

“What does ‘lake’ smell like?” Elphaba asked with a quiet chuckle. The sound rumbled pleasantly through her body, vibrating against the tip of Galinda’s nose.

“Lake smells like Elphie.” She softly bit the top of Elphie’s shoulder, and giggled. “And Elphie smells like lake.”

Elphaba’s laugh got a little louder. “Oh, I see.”

“You’re so cute.” Galinda kissed the spot where her teeth had just been, and giggled again when she noticed goosebumps spreading across green skin. “Did you know that? You’re the cutest.”

“Is that so?”

Galinda’s voice was a bit hazy now, sleepy in the sun. “Mhm. I’m a scholar on the subject.”

“Must be exhausting,” Elphaba muttered, adjusting her grip to hold Galinda more securely. “Being in love with someone so cute.”

“Oh, it’s dreadful. You wouldn’t believe the burden.” Galinda closed her eyes and smiled against her skin. Had Elphie just called herself cute? Galinda tried to contain the excitement, she didn’t want Elphie to get shy—it didn’t even look like she realized what she’d just said. “And also someone so dashingly strong. And smart. And warm. And very good at carrying girls uphill. Well, not just any girl. Only me. Don’t you go carrying other girls uphill, alright?”

Elphaba laughed. “Not that I want to, but alright.”

As they followed the garden path and the shadows grew longer across the grass, Galinda gazed up at the house. She had always loved her family’s summer residence. It was showy and picturesque in its own way, in the way wealth tended to be when it knew it didn’t need to prove anything.

When she’d first imagined a whole summer with Elphie, it had been her hope to spend a few days here together. They’d have lovely time to themselves, and Galinda would show her the little village she adored.

She had prayed they would come here as something other than friends—because, honestly, a weekend getaway to a remote lakehouse was such a delicious setting for romance.

And wouldn’t you know it, she’d gotten her way. Again. Some girls dreamed of fairy tales, but Galinda simply scheduled them.

Never mind this particular fairy tale had taken her time. It’d been worth it in the end.

“You really are quite perfect, Elphie.” The sun was warm, Elphaba’s skin was warmer, and Galinda’s heart was practically singing.

Elphaba hummed, the sound of it vibrating against her again. “So are you.”

She didn’t even try to argue! No deflecting, no philosophical debates on the concept of perfection, no absurd insistence that if something were to qualify as perfect it would be mathematics, if anything—but not even that, since it wasn’t a complete system, and so on and so forth. Galinda giggled to herself. Elphie was getting quite good at accepting compliments.

As the garden path curved to an end and Elphaba finally reached the veranda, Galinda let her eyes flutter shut, entirely content.

She could still feel the warmth of the lake on her skin—and the warmth of Elphaba’s magic somewhere deeper, curled inside her like a secret.

Their long weekend at the lake house was lovely. Galinda showed her all manner of scenic little spots in the mountainside village of Runcible; they stuffed themselves silly with its signature baked dumplings, giggled far too late into the night while working through several bottles of a sour herbal liqueur that Elphaba ended up loving, and fell asleep more than once with their limbs tangled on the porch sofa.

Galinda was incandescent the whole time, lively and loud. She didn’t straighten her natural curls because she went swimming often, and she got a lovely tan, and affection poured out of her like warmth poured out of the sun. Natural, unmeasured, and everywhere at once.

They had the whole summer house to themselves, and Elphaba had wondered what exactly made this one a summer house, since it was nearly as large as the regular one.

She didn’t question it too much. It was too nice. They lazed in the sun, took candlelit baths, slept wrapped in cool, soft blankets, and even woke up early to watch the sunrise only to crawl back into bed afterward.

Galinda played records on the phonograph, and they spun in the carpeted living room, tossing fruit into the air to catch it with their mouths, laughing so loud that Elphaba was grateful there were no neighbors.

This place was remote remote.

Not to mention blissful. Paradisal, even. One night, a little tipsy, very exhausted, and quite in love, Elphaba had whispered that it felt like they lived together, domestic and casual and intimate, and that she wouldn’t mind finding something like this for themselves after graduation.

Galinda had been delighted, to say the least. She nearly cried—more than just a little tipsy herself—then described in detail their future house which would have a wide porch and a private pool and a whole book place and tasteful columns she would design. It wouldn’t be anything like a summer house, of course; because according to her even she had her limits when it came to decadence.

Elphaba loved the sound of her voice, it did the opposite of lulling her to sleep. It invigorated her because she wanted to hear more, even if Galinda was slurring every other word and rambling about the hypothetical cat they would rescue, because she knew Elphaba liked cats.

Elphaba loved her. She almost said it, but then Galinda lulled herself to sleep, so Elphaba didn’t.

They spent their last afternoon stretched out beneath the canopy of a plum orchard, half-asleep and sticky with fruit juice, and Galinda whispered something ridiculous about eloping in the Runcible town hall just for the aesthetic. Elphaba told her she was absurd. Galinda grinned and kissed her.

It was perfect.

And fleeting, of course. They had to pack up the next morning and return to Frottica, but Galinda insisted they stop at the Sunday market on the way—just for a moment, just to peek.

“Just to peek,” Elphaba repeated as she was tugged by the hand into a weaving maze of stalls and wandering musicians. “You said that forty minutes ago.”

“I’m peeking extremely thoroughly,” Galinda replied, half-distracted as she spun to admire a rack of dyed scarves in sunset hues. Her curls were up in twin buns at the top of her head, and she looked so pretty Elphaba wouldn’t dream of denying her anything in the world. “It’s just such a wonderful thing, is it not? Runcible is famous for its artisans!”

The town square had transformed into a bustling open-air market, with vendor stalls spilling from the cobblestone center into the adjoining streets, colorful canopies creating a patchwork of shade in the afternoon sun.

Elphaba let herself be pulled along, watching Galinda fawn over gold-lined quills and watercolor paintings. The way she moved through the world was endlessly endearing, touching everything, greeting strangers like old friends, collecting experiences the way others might collect souvenirs.

“Elphie, look at these!” Galinda called, holding up a pair of embroidered gloves. “Wouldn’t these be perfect for Madame Morrible? She’d simply die.”

“I’m not sure gift-giving is meant to be lethal,” Elphaba remarked, but she was smiling as she examined the intricate stitching.

“Do you think she’d be more lenient with my grades if I got her something?”

“I’m also not sure gift-giving is meant to be bribery.”

“You’re right.” She put the gloves down. “She wouldn’t, anyhow. But let’s get something for Momsie and Momsicle!”

They continued weaving through the market, Galinda stopping every few feet to admire something new—blown glass figurines, smoked cheeses, artisanal potted plants. Elphaba was content to follow—

Until she saw it.

The stall was small, tucked between a spice merchant and a woodcarver. An elderly woman with silver-streaked hair sat behind a table laden with jewelry, her weathered hands working methodically at a piece of silver wire.

Elphaba looked once. Then again.

Galinda was several paces ahead, crouched in front of a display of miniature chocolate figurines, absolutely enamored with a frog wearing a lopsided crown. She’d be there for a while.

The vendor was welcoming but quiet, and didn’t ask questions. Elphaba murmured hers low, kept her hands steady, and tucked the wrapped parcel into her satchel.

By the time Galinda turned to look for her, Elphaba was already strolling up again with an air of indifference.

“You took forever,” Galinda said, slipping her hand into Elphaba’s and munching on the chocolates she’d bought.

“I was just peeking,” Elphaba replied, accepting a caramel-glazed heart. “Extremely thoroughly.”

“What were you looking at?”

“Just some earrings,” Elphaba said. “Nothing particularly interesting.”

“You? Looking at earrings?” Galinda looked skeptical. “Your ears aren’t even pierced.”

“I’m thinking of piercing them—”

Galinda lit up. “Really? We could do it here! I saw a stall!”

Oz above, what had Elphaba gotten herself into? She clearly wasn’t that good a liar. But actually, it didn’t even sound like a bad idea. She tugged at her earlobe, a little self-conscious, then eventually shrugged. “Sure. Why not?”

“Oh, Oz, I didn’t think you’d say yes!” Galinda didn’t waste a second before dragging her toward the stall.

It all happened faster than Elphaba could properly process—before she knew it, she was seated on a stool with Galinda cooing encouragingly and a kind-faced artist asking which lobe she wanted done first.

It stung. Not terribly. And Galinda held her hand through the whole thing, grinning like a madwoman.

“You have to wear something pretty in them,” Galinda said, bouncing on the balls of her feet. “How about gold? So they match those little rings you always wear!”

Elphaba ended up liking them more than she expected. Even though she had to wear plain gold studs for a few months, Galinda still insisted on buying her a pair of dangly earrings—for later, she said—after squealing loudly enough to rattle the displays.

As far as distractions went, this was wildly effective. But more than that, Elphaba was really satisfied with herself. She looked nice.

“I just don’t understand why you wouldn’t let me buy you the diamond ones!” Galinda huffed, rummaging through her little bag. She’d picked up earrings for her mothers, too. “Honestly, Elphie, you can be so very difficult.”

“I didn’t let you because I’ve never seen so many zeroes put together,” said Elphaba. “And in this little town, no less.”

“You’ve never seen numbers like that because you never went out! And they were real diamonds, I could tell. Maybe I can get them for you later—for your birthday.”

They made their way slowly out of the market, past the smells of candied almonds, roasting mushrooms, and sweet plum wine. Galinda talked the entire time about the earrings she was going to buy next.

Elphaba let that sugary voice wind around her, soft and songful. Her satchel bumped gently against her side with every step. Inside it, the little wrapped box waited. Now that she had it, she couldn’t stop thinking about the moment Galinda would open it.

Soon enough—after Elphaba fixed it up.

“I need help.” Elphaba shifted her weight from one foot to the other, lingering awkwardly in the doorway of the sitting room where Galinda’s mothers were enjoying their afternoon tea and going over design sketches.

“Help?” Kalena smiled, setting down her teacup. “What kind of help? We’re the absolute best at help. We have awards for help. I’m not kidding—we’ve been commended for organizing the holiday parade extravaganza seven years in a row, and they put our names on a plaque outside town hall. So you’ve come to just the right people, dear Elphie.”

“I—well, yes. I do know about the plaque. Galinda took me to see it. She—um. She was very proud of it.” Elphaba winced at how stuttery her voice sounded. She was too nervous about this.

Iliana glanced up from a spread of sketched gowns, her eyes immediately sharpening with interest. “Is everything alright?”

“Yes, everything’s fine,” Elphaba said quickly. She glanced over her shoulder to ensure Galinda wasn’t nearby before stepping fully into the room. “I just need a space. A private space. To work on something.”

“A private space,” Iliana echoed, exchanging a glance with her wife that made Elphaba’s cheeks warm. “To work on what, exactly?”

Elphaba shifted again, twisting her fingers behind her back. “It’s sort of a secret.”

“A secret?” Iliana said, eyebrows arched. “Now you really have our attention.”

“It’s a—project.”

“Mm-hmm.” Kalena was clearly already delighted. “Would this ‘project’ happen to rhyme with ‘tift for our daughter’?”

Elphaba cleared her throat. “Maybe.”

“Oh, too shy to even confirm it.” Iliana laughed. “But that’s alright, honey, you don’t have to. You’re glowing. Honestly, it’s adorable.”

“I’m not glowing,” Elphaba muttered.

“Oh, you are,” Kalena said. “You’re phosphorescent.”

She really was Galinda’s mother.

“But never mind that!” Kalena went on, clapping her hands, her enthusiasm so reminiscent of Galinda’s that Elphaba couldn’t help but smile. “This is so wonderful! A present! A surprise! I adore presents and surprises. What are you making her? Jewelry? A poem? A magical enchantment?”

“Don’t hound the poor girl,” Iliana chided, but she also seemed quite curious. “What kind of space do you need, Elphaba? Drafting table? Potions counter? A trapdoor for a dramatic unveiling?”

“Nothing that elaborate,” Elphaba said. “Just somewhere I can work on a small piece. And keep it hidden. That’s the part I’m worried about—hiding it. It’s… difficult to part with Galinda, even for a moment.”

“Ah.” Kalena sighed wistfully. “Young love! Remember when we were attached at the hip too, darling?”

“We still are, my heart, we still are.” Iliana patted Kalena’s hand, then turned back to Elphaba. “Can we truly not know what you’re working on? It would be easier to suggest the right space if we had some idea.”

She was also clearly Galinda’s mother. Clever to a fault.

“And we can keep a secret!” Kalena added.

“We’ll pretend we’re not invested at all,” Iliana said, sipping her tea with a knowing look. “And we’ll absolutely pretend not to cry the day she opens it.”

Elphaba chuckled and reached into her pocket, pulling out the small wooden box. She opened it just enough for them to glimpse the contents nestled inside. “I bought these at the market in Runcible,” she said. “I want to... enhance them. With magic.”

Both women leaned forward, their interest palpable.

“Elphie, you romantic!” Kalena said. “And you managed to keep this from our daughter? I’m impressed. She’s usually quite adept at ferreting out secrets.”

“She was distracted by chocolates,” Elphaba admitted.

“Ah, the sweet tooth.” Iliana nodded. “A genetic inheritance, I’m afraid. Did we ever tell you about the night I proposed?”

“Oh, Oz,” Kalena groaned. “Please desist, dearest. You never tell it correctly—”

“I was so nervous I didn’t notice this one right here was utterly distracted by chocolate-dipped strawberries. She nearly choked.”

“That is not how it happened,” Kalena protested, swatting her wife’s arm. “I was perfectly composed.”

“You inhaled a strawberry and had to be patted on the back,” Iliana said. “Then you cried and said yes while still coughing. It was adorable.”

Her nerves vanished, and Elphaba found herself smiling. “That’s a lovely story. But I’m not proposing—”

“Yet,” Kalena interjected with a wink.

“—so I’d just like to add something magical to these.” Elphaba managed to keep talking, somehow, despite how her face burned.

“Well,” Iliana said, shifting into business mode, “Kalena’s studio is a disaster—”

“Hey now!”

“—you’d be too easy to find in a guest room, and everywhere else is too open. So my office will do. It’s already set up for magical work, and it’s got proper ventilation in case something... unexpected happens.”

Elphaba grimaced. “I don’t plan on any more explosions.”

“No one ever does, honey,” Iliana said. “But better safe than smoky. What kind of spellwork are we talking about?”

“I could—” Elphaba hesitated, she still wasn’t used to asking for help. “I could simply show you, and I could use some assistance.”

That made both of them beam.

“Of course,” Iliana said. “I’d be happy to.”

“That’s settled!” Kalena clapped her hands again. “You’ll help Elphie with her little magical romance thingy, and I’ll keep Galinda occupied. I’ve been meaning to show her the new fabric samples that arrived yesterday. That should give you at least two hours.”

“Perfect,” Iliana said, rising from her seat. “Shall we get started now? There’s no time like the present when crafting a... present.”

Elphaba nodded, tucking the box safely back into her pocket.

“You know,” Kalena said casually as they prepared to leave, “the last time someone enchanted matching objects in this house, there was a wedding not long after.”

“Kalena,” Iliana admonished, though her eyes were twinkling. “Don’t start this again.”

“I’m just saying.” Kalena shrugged innocently. “It’s a Frottican tradition. Enchanted gifts often lead to lifelong commitments.”

“That’s not a real tradition,” Iliana said. “She just made that up.”

“I did no such thing! It’s a tradition in this house, at least. When you gave me those enchanted hairpins—”

“That was after we were already engaged.”

“Details, details,” Kalena waved dismissively. “The point is, our Elphie here is crafting a romantic magical gift, and I think it’s perfectly sweet. But I can see that you’re worried, Elphie. You’re nervous? Don’t be. Whatever it is, Galinda is going to adore it just as she adores you.”

Elphaba felt her face burning again, but she couldn’t deny the small flutter of pleasure at being referred to as “our Elphie” and the rest of the sentence—and the fact that once again the prospect of marriage had come up. At this rate, she thought, it would be a miracle if she returned to Shiz still a Thropp.

“Come along.” Iliana took pity on her and steered her toward the hall. “Forgive my wife, she’s been planning Galinda’s wedding since the day she was born.”

As they left the room, Elphaba could hear Kalena calling after them: “Before that, too!”

“It’s fine,” Elphaba said, surprised to find she meant it. “It’s—nice, actually. That she thinks I’d be... that we might...”

“Of course she does.” Iliana so gently squeezed Elphaba’s shoulder. “We both do. You’re good for each other. Anyone with eyes can see that.”

Elphaba smiled, her hand instinctively brushing the box in her pocket. “But—so soon? We’ve only just—”

“You’ve known her for longer, haven’t you?” Iliana shrugged. “Don’t stress, Elphaba. When you know, you know.”

Elphaba frowned. Did she know? How could she know? And what was she even to know?

“Now, about this spell,” Iliana said, her voice taking on a more serious tone—the voice of a practiced sorceress rather than a teasing mother-in-law. “Tell me everything about it.”

Meanwhile, in the Upland showroom, Galinda was surrounded by bolts of fabric in every imaginable shade and texture. Her mother had seemingly pulled out the entire new collection, and they were scattered across every available surface—draped over chairs, unfurled across tables, and held up to the light to examine their sheen.

Galinda ran her fingers over a particularly lustrous emerald brocade. The color reminded her of Elphie, of course. Everything did these days.

“What do you think of this one?” Momsie asked, holding up a length of iridescent silk that shifted between pearl and lavender in the light. “For a summer gown, perhaps? With those lovely pearl buttons we found last month?”

“It’s beautiful, but maybe a touch too formal for everyday wear.” Galinda glanced toward the doorway. “Where did Elphie get to? She’d have an opinion on this.”

“Oh, I believe your mother asked for help with something,” Momsie said airily, already reaching for another bolt. “Now this one—a little more practical, but still elegant, don’t you think?”

Galinda accepted the new fabric—a fine cotton in a soft mint green—but her attention remained divided. “Helping with what? Elphie didn’t mention anything.”

“I can’t expect to know,” said Momsie. “You know magic goes over my head sometimes. I don’t know how you manage. But I don’t think it’s anything interesting.”

“Magic is always interesting.”

“I’m sure, I’m sure—and speaking of magic. Tell me, how was the weekend, sweetheart?”

“Oh, it was great!” Galinda’s focus immediately shifted, her face brightening. “The lake was perfect—though Elphie doesn’t like lakes. Or large amounts of water, really. Can you believe she doesn’t actually know how to swim?”

“Not everyone grows up with a private lake, darling.”

“I know, but still. She was so adorable about it.” Galinda smiled at the memory. “Best I could do was convince her to put her feet in, and that took an hour of cajoling.”

“Lovely, lovely. And thank you for the presents, sweet girl.” Momsie was wearing the hoop earrings Galinda had bought her, and she was smiling. “Did the weather hold up for you?”

“Yes, it did. Oh, Momsie, I must tell you that even though the sun was out, the lake water was freezing and Elphie warmed it for me. Can you believe? With her magic? Did I tell you that?”

“No, you didn’t.” Momsie looked up from where she was measuring a length of ribbon against a bolt of cream-colored linen. “Her magic is developing nicely, then?”

“She’s so talented,” Galinda gushed. “She fished my sunglasses out of the lake with just a wave of her hand! And we did so many other things and ate so many of those dumplings from the village. Elphie loved them—she ate seven in one sitting!”

Momsie laughed. “It sounds like you two had a wonderful time.”

“We did.” Galinda absentmindedly twisted a corner of mint fabric between her fingers. “I should go see her. I miss her. I mean, yes, I saw her this morning, and yes, it’s only been—what, twenty minutes? But I still miss her.”

“She’s in the house.”

“That doesn’t mean I don’t miss her.”

“Of course. And what else? Did you behave yourself at the lake house, or did you scandalize the villagers?”

“Momsie!” Galinda blushed. They hadn’t behaved, but they also hadn’t scandalized the villagers. Two negatives made a positive. Or something. “Of course we behaved!”

“What a pity.” Momsie sighed. “Lake houses are made for scandals. And I’ll have you know, sweetling, that I was the one who lost a bet to your mother this time around.”

“What?”

“I was so sure you’d come back with some story about how you’d eloped or something.”

“You know, I did suggest it. Elphie called me absurd, but I was very serious.”

“Ha!” They both laughed at that. “Of course. You’re your mother’s daughter, after all. But I’m glad I lost this one. Take this as me officially forbidding you from having any sort of wedding anywhere but here. Think of the event we could make out of it—the flowers, the gowns, the orchestra... Not that I’m pushing for anything, of course. You’re both still so very young.”

“I wouldn’t dream of you pushing, Momsie. You’ve never pushed for anything in your life. And you definitely haven’t been planning my wedding since I was a waddling toddler.”

“Cheeky girl.” Momsie clicked her tongue, sorting through different colored threads and matching them to her sketches. “Planning is perhaps too strong a word. I’ve merely been... collecting inspirations. For someday. In the distant future. Or perhaps not so distant—but for when you’re ready.”

“Mmhmm.” Galinda smirked. “And have these ‘inspirations’ started featuring a certain green motif recently?”

Momsie’s silence was answer enough.

“I knew it! But Elphie doesn’t even like green that much! It’d be too much and she’d blend right in. We need something neutral. And what season? I’m partial to spring.”

“Spring is for amateurs,” Momsie said. “Mid autumn is the one, darling. The colors are so much nicer for an outdoor thing. Think how gorgeous the leaves would look in the background.”

“Oh.” Galinda frowned. “Actually, that is not bad.”

“I have the best ideas,” Momsie said, pleased. “Now help me with this fabric—we need a color scheme for the winter collection and frankly I’m tired of cool tones. Year after year the same thing, it gets rather boring. Maybe we’ll go with rust or peach, perhaps. Oh! Maroon! A splash of life in the cold, don’t you think?”

“You have the best ideas, Momsie,” Galinda echoed, spreading fabric over the table as she perched on a stool—though her thoughts were still elsewhere. “Do you think it’s too soon? To feel this way?”

Momsie, of course, knew exactly what she meant, and laughed. “Too soon? Sweetheart, your mother and I got engaged three months after our first dinner together. When you know, you know.”

Galinda thought about the months she’d spent pining for Elphaba. The frustrating weeks of trying to make her notice. The exhilarating rush of that first kiss.

Galinda did know.

Whatever Elphie was doing with Momsicle—and Galinda wasn’t foolish enough to buy Momsie’s story that it wasn’t anything interesting—Galinda hoped it would end soon. She had a consuming, fierce desire to see her.

“What do you think about this for Elphie?” Momsie held up a bolt of deep midnight blue velvet. “For a winter coat, perhaps? She is spending the winter holidays here, yes?”

Galinda touched the luxurious fabric, imagining Elphaba wrapped in its richness. “If I get my way, yes. I think she’d like this one. Though she’d pretend she didn’t need anything so fine.”

“Then we won’t give her a choice,” Momsie said decisively.

Galinda found herself unexpectedly moved by the simple phrase, and by the image of Elphaba bundled up in something warm and beautiful. “Momsie, I don’t think I ever thanked you for welcoming my Elphie so completely.”

“Oh, darling.” Momsie reached over to cup Galinda’s cheek. “How could we not? She’s such a lovely girl, and she’s clearly been treated very poorly by far too many people in her life. Who would we be if we’d turned her away? More than that, of course, she’s just so easy to like.”

“Isn’t she?” Galinda smiled.

“She must have a talent for enchanting the women of this family.”

“Excuse you.” Galinda’s smile vanished into a frown. “I was far more enchanted by her than you.”

“I wasn’t aware it was a competition?”

Galinda just nodded, satisfied. “Well, good. I’m glad you know.”

Momsie looked vaguely confused, though Galinda had no idea why. “Anyway, back to winter, yes? What do you think of this combination?”

“I know what you’re doing, you know,” Galinda said.

“What?”

“You’re keeping something from me.”

Momsie gave a shrill little laugh that Galinda recognized perfectly—because it was her shrill little laugh, and she only laughed like that when she was lying. “Me? Never. I just want your opinion on these, sweetling. Nothing more.”

What an obvious diversion. To distract Galinda with fashion! And it had actually worked, for the most part. “Your mistake was letting me talk about Elphie so much.”

“My sweet pea, she’s all you talk about.”

Galinda came to her feet. “Where is she? What’s she doing? I demand to know!”

“Galinda—”

“Why would she need to keep secrets from me? And to enlist my own mother to distract me? What’s this about? I’m getting nervous.”

“There’s no reason to be nervous,” said Momsie calmly. “Trust me, please.”

“It’s—” Galinda bit her lip and began pacing, while her mother simply returned to her work, utterly unbothered by Galinda’s plight. Then again, that usually meant there wasn’t a plight to begin with. “Fine. I trust you. But I really want to know.”

“Don’t worry,” Momsie said, looking up again with a smile. “I’m sure she’ll tell you soon.”

Elphaba did not tell her soon.

Galinda found her hours later in the dining room, alone with her favorite puzzle book, appearing totally normal. Just Elphie in her natural habitat, nose between some pages and pen in hand. And looking really nice with her hair down. Galinda didn’t even mind the spectacles this time.

She cleared her throat in the entryway, and Elphaba immediately looked up. Her face softened in a way that erased every bit of frustration Galinda had been feeling.

“Hi,” Elphaba said. “I was wondering where you’d gone.”

“Where I’d gone?” Galinda raised an eyebrow, crossing to the table. “I’ve been trapped in the showroom with Momsie for ages while you were off doing—whatever it is you were doing.”

A flicker of something—guilt? concern?—crossed Elphaba’s face. “Sorry about that. Your mother wanted some help with—a thing.”

“A thing,” Galinda repeated flatly. “Very specific, Elphie. Very illuminating.”

“A magical thing,” Elphaba amended, spinning her pen over her knuckles precisely once before setting it down. Nervous habit, Galinda knew. There was a smudge of something that looked like ash on her wrist, and the faint stains on the side of her left hand suggested she’d been doing more writing than just puzzles.

Galinda also noticed the slightly glazed look in Elphaba’s eyes she got when she’d been focusing too intensely for too long. Whatever this “magical thing” was, it clearly wasn’t going smoothly.

For a moment, Galinda felt a surge of pure curiosity so intense she nearly blurted out a dozen questions at once. But then she caught herself. If Elphaba was being secretive, she must have a reason.

With considerable effort—truly, Galinda deserved a medal for her restraint—she swallowed her questions and slid into the chair beside her.

“Well, whatever it was,” Galinda said lightly, “it looks like it was exhausting. Are you alright, darling?”

“Oh.” Elphaba blinked, as if surprised Galinda could tell she was tired. “Yes. It was just—a challenging thing.”

“Mmm.” Galinda hummed noncommittally, though she was dying to know what kind of magic could challenge Elphaba. “Successful, at least?”

“Not yet,” Elphaba said with a sigh, then seemed to catch herself. “I mean, it’s a work in progress.”

Being patient was so hard. Elphaba would have to make this up to her.

“Anyhow, how was your time with your mother?” Elphaba clearly wanted to change the subject, and though her voice was as decisive as ever, she was endearingly clumsy about it. She bookmarked a page and closed her book, using the bookmark Momsie and Momsicle had gotten for her on her second day here. “Did she show you the new fabrics?”

Galinda smiled, and allowed the diversion. “Yes, yes, it was a most productive meeting. It’s nice to have direct input on things sometimes, though it still surprises me that they want my input at all.”

“Why wouldn’t they?” Elphaba frowned. “You have such a good eye for those things.”

“Thank you, Elphie.” Galinda’s smile turned sweet. Part of her—the curious, impatient, must-know-everything-immediately part—was practically vibrating with the need to demand answers. But another part, the part that had come to understand Elphaba’s need for privacy and processing time, counseled patience.

For once, the latter won out.

“Are you hungry?” she asked Elphie.

“Starving,” Elphaba said, predictably. Spellcraft took energy; she must’ve been working with something powerful.

Stop trying to find information, Galinda chided herself, and then took Elphie’s hand. “I was going to take you somewhere tonight, but you look tired. Would you rather have dinner here?”

Elphaba smiled at her. “I think so, yes.”

“Alright, that’s settled.” Galinda kissed her on the cheek and caught another glimpse of that ash smudge on Elphaba’s wrist when she leaned in. What was she working on, that wasn’t going as smoothly as planned?

Galinda could be patient.

After all, some of the best things—like getting Elphaba to fall in love with her—took time and persistence. And Galinda Upland had never let a little waiting stand in the way of what she wanted.

“Alright, I’ve had it with this. I’m losing my mind.” Galinda practically cornered Elphaba against the door of her room the second it shut. “Tell me what you’re hiding.”

She had lasted approximately two hours since finding out from Momsie. Honestly? A record.

Elphaba merely arched an eyebrow. “I don’t know what you—”

“You’re a terrible liar,” Galinda interrupted. “And I am terribly observant, so let us cut to the chase, shall we? Skip the part where you pretend you don’t know what I mean. Skip the part where I list all the evidence I’ve gathered—namely, that you and Momsicle were working on something ‘secret,’ that you clearly recruited Momsie to distract me, and that you were absolutely covered in spell residue. Let’s skip all of that, my dear, and go straight to the part where you tell me the truth.”

For a moment, Elphaba looked trapped—quite literally, with her back to the door and Galinda’s arms braced on either side of her. But then her expression shifted, and she laughed.

“Two hours,” she said, shaking her head. “I’m actually impressed you lasted that long.”

“So you admit it!” Galinda poked her shoulder. “You are hiding something!”

“You’re very perceptive.”

“I am,” Galinda agreed. “And I’ve been so good for so long. Two whole hours of not asking questions. Do you know what that does to a person like me?”

Elphaba smirked, but said nothing.

“It festers. It eats me alive. I’ve been in agony. My hair’s going to start falling out. Elphie, please.”

“Your hair is not going to start falling out,” Elphaba said, trying to keep a straight face and failing.

“You don’t know that! It’s very fragile under stress! And I am under stress.” Galinda stepped closer. “Tell me. I won’t even be mad, promise. I just want to know what you were doing. You don’t have to show it to me, just tell me what it is.”

Elphaba sighed, though there was affection in it. “Yes, I’m hiding something. But before you launch into what I’m sure would be an incredibly thorough interrogation—” She gently took Galinda’s hands and lowered them from the door. “—I need to ask you something.”

“What?” Galinda asked, momentarily thrown off her righteous indignation by the tender way Elphaba was holding her hands. Her heart did a funny little skip. How was she supposed to maintain her interrogation in the face of such sweetness?

“Do you like surprises?”

Galinda blinked. “Is it—for me?”

“For you,” Elphaba confirmed, her thumbs brushing light circles against Galinda’s knuckles. “But it’s not ready yet. Hence the secrecy.”

“But what is it?” Galinda asked, even as her resolve faltered. “Just a tiny hint?”

“No hints.”

“A vague one? Something cryptic! I’m terrible with cryptic.”

“You’re very good with cryptic,” Elphaba said. “I promise it’s nothing bad.”

“I know that.”

“And I promise it’s something you’ll like. It’s just not ready yet and if I explain it now, I’ll ruin what I’m trying to do. Can you just be patient for a little longer? You love surprises.”

Galinda groaned. “I do love surprises. That’s the problem. I want the surprise now. ”

Elphaba leaned in and kissed her forehead, softly. “You’ll enjoy it more if you wait.”

“Will I?”

“Immensely.”

Galinda narrowed her eyes, but then let out a long, put-upon sigh and let her head fall against Elphaba’s shoulder.

“Fine,” she relented. “I will be patient. But only because you asked so nicely, and because I do love surprises.”

“Thank you,” Elphaba said. “I promise it will be worth the wait.”

“It better be,” Galinda warned, but there was no heat in it. “And if you need any more help, or if it keeps being hard—don’t get too frustrated, alright? Whatever it is, I’ll love it because it’s from you. Even if you’re being so difficult and keeping things from me—”

“I’m sorry, my sweet, you can’t manipulate me into feeling bad about it.”

Galinda laughed. “Manipulate you? Who do you think I am? But, alright. I said I’ll be patient and I will be.”

“Thank you.”

“No, Elphie, thank you.” Galinda chuckled again, lifting her head from Elphaba’s shoulder to kiss the tip of her nose. “I’m very excited!”

“Me too,” Elphaba said. “I’m—”

“So you should tell me what it is!”

Elphaba sighed.

Iliana’s office was quieter than usual.

The curtains had been drawn to block the late-afternoon sun, letting only a gentle warmth spill in through the gauzy linen. There was a faint trace of ink and spellsmoke in the air, from the finished work laid carefully on the workbench between them.

The project sat in its little silk-lined box. Elphaba held her breath, waiting for something to go wrong—for the magic to sputter out or explode in a shower of sparks as it had done countless times over the past few days.

But nothing happened.

Everything had set properly. The final enchantments were stable, the metal cooled, the etching precise. It looked simple. Ordinary, even. That was what Elphaba liked most about it.

“I think,” Iliana said carefully, “we’ve done it.”

Elphaba didn’t dare move, as if the slightest disturbance might undo hours of painstaking work. “I think so too.”

Iliana straightened and gave a satisfied nod. “Well done, Elphaba.”

Elphaba finally exhaled, tension draining from her shoulders. “Thank you. And thank you for your help.”

“You don’t have to thank me, honey.” She smiled, soft and bright. “She’s going to adore it.”

At the mention of Galinda, Elphaba felt a flutter of anticipation. After days of secrecy and hard work, she could finally show her.

Elphaba stared at the box, her pulse loud in her ears. “I hope so.”

“You’ve done everything right, you don’t need to hope.” Iliana gave her shoulder a squeeze. “Are you going to give it to her now?”

”I think so.”

”I can’t wait to hear how it goes.” Her smile widened, and then she squeezed Elphaba’s shoulder one last time. “I’m going to freshen up before supper. I’ll see you downstairs.”

“Should I tidy up?”

“Leave it.” Iliana dismissed with a wave. “Get some rest for now, honey. I’ll fix it up some other time.”

The door clicked shut behind her, leaving Elphaba in the soft hush of the room.

She frowned. The workbench was still cluttered—books stacked askew, papers scattered, quills uncapped, smudges of ash and traces of other magical residue dusting the surface. It felt wrong to leave it all like this, not when she’d been the one working there.

Her hands were shaking slightly. She was seeing double, just a little—she was so tired. Still, she stood, collected her box, and began tidying: shelving books, recapping ink bottles, wiping down the worst of the mess. The motions were familiar, grounding. They gave her hands something to do while her mind calmed down.

But fatigue made her clumsy. When she passed by Iliana’s desk on her way to the shelf, her elbow clipped the corner just hard enough to upset a stack of papers. A few slipped free and fluttered to the floor.

“Sorry,” Elphaba mumbled automatically, crouching to gather the scattered pages.

Something caught her attention. A sheet of rose-colored paper among the others. It had Galinda’s handwriting. She’d recognize the loops and flourishes anywhere.

She didn’t mean to look. Not really.

But her eyes moved before she could stop them.

...I think it would be good for Elphie, being here. She never lets anyone care for her properly. She pretends like she doesn’t need it, but she does.

Elphaba froze.

...I think the house will be good for her, too. Quiet mornings and long walks. I want her to see the festivals! I want her to feel safe.

She should stop reading. This was private. It wasn’t meant for her.

...and she’s so clever. Sometimes I catch her looking at the world with such wonder, as if she’s seeing things no one else can. I think that’s why her magic is so extraordinary. And she’s so funny, too. She has a different laugh when she isn’t holding it back. I wish you could hear it. You’d understand. I suppose you will hear it soon enough, if I get my way.

The letter continued, but Elphaba found she couldn’t read further, her vision blurring unexpectedly. She pressed her hand to her chest, as if she could keep her heart where it belonged.

It wasn’t new information—she’d known Galinda wrote home, knew those letters had mentioned her often enough for Galinda’s affections to be glaringly obvious to everyone but Elphaba herself.

Logically, Elphaba knew this—

But to see the words meant something else entirely. To have the evidence right in front of her. To know there was someone who spoke so fondly of her behind her back.

Elphaba shook her head and carefully slid the letter back into the stack, aligning the edges with trembling fingers. Her hands suddenly felt too big, too clumsy for this soft world Galinda lived in—and yet, here she was. Still holding the edges of it.

Still held by it.

Taking care to leave everything exactly right, Elphaba stepped into the hallway and closed the door behind her, carrying her finished secret in one hand, and something else—something light and aching and impossibly full—in the other.

Elphaba admitted that she must’ve looked half-mad in her search for Galinda.

The house was sprawling, full of corners and cozy alcoves, and Elphaba wasn’t even sure where her feet were carrying her. She just needed to see her. She wandered the halls like a girl possessed, brushing past doorways, passing airy rooms, nearly knocking over a few unfortunate knickknacks along the way.

And then—there she was.

Galinda was lounging on a sofa on the upstairs terrace that overlooked the garden, sitting sideways with her knees drawn up, her notebook resting against her thighs. The way the tip of her tongue was caught at the corner of her mouth told Elphaba she was sketching something school-related.

For a moment, Elphaba just stood there, watching her.

The little wooden box sat heavy in her pocket, but it was Galinda’s words from the letter that weighed on her most—words so kind, so sincere, so precious.

Elphaba didn’t think further. She crossed the distance between them in a few quick strides, leaned down, took Galinda’s face in both hands, and kissed her.

Galinda made a strangled noise of surprise—she had been so engrossed in her sketching that she hadn’t noticed Elphaba approaching at all. The kiss was fervent, almost desperate, all the gratitude and wonder and immense feeling that threatened to overwhelm Elphaba was poured into this point of contact.

When she finally pulled back, Galinda looked dazed, her cheeks flushed and her eyes wide.

“Hi, Elphie,” she said breathlessly. “Not that I’m complaining, but—what was that for?”

Elphaba sat down beside her on the sofa, suddenly shy and restless all at once. “Do I need a reason?”

“No.” Galinda set her notebook and pen aside and unfolded her legs. “But are you alright?”

“I finished,” Elphaba said in a rush of breath. “I finished it.”

Galinda’s eyes lit up. “Oh. Really? Really?” She let out a delighted squeal, and even kicked her feet a bit. Impossibly endearing. “Can I see!?”

“Yes, it’s—” Elphaba fumbled for the small wooden box in her pocket, her fingers curling tightly around it. “It’s… not perfect. The enchantment was trickier than I expected. But it works.”

“What kind of enchantment did you use?” Galinda asked, practically vibrating. “And did my mother really help?”

“Yes, yes, of course, I couldn’t have done it without her—”

“I bet that’s not true! Elphie, you could’ve made it easily without anyone’s help, you’re that good. Well, not that I know what it is—so you should show me! Show me please!”

Elphaba nodded, air coming hard into her lungs. What if Galinda didn’t like it? What if she thought it was too simple, or too sentimental, or just... not enough?

But then she remembered the letter. Remembered the way Galinda had described her, with warmth and gentleness and even pride.

Galinda loved her. It wouldn’t change.

Elphaba placed the small box in Galinda’s waiting hands. “I got these on our last day at Runcible,” she said softly as Galinda traced the carved pattern on the lid.

Galinda looked up, a small smile playing at her lips. “I knew you were up to something. I didn’t buy the earring excuse for a second! Though they do look pretty on you.”

“Open it,” Elphaba urged, her heart beating faster, unable to hear anything else.

With careful fingers, Galinda lifted the lid.

Inside the box, nestled in folds of soft cloth, were two pendants—each shaped like a compass, small and delicate. They were identical save for the material: one silver, one gold, each catching the light with a muted gleam. Their faces were glass, the needles inside faintly twitching, as though they already sensed the bond between them.

Galinda reached out gently, as if afraid to disturb the spell. Her fingers brushed one of the pendants and lifted it from its cushion. The needle inside spun once, twice, then steadied—not pointing north, Elphaba knew, but toward something far more personal.

Silence stretched a little too long, but Elphaba couldn’t bring herself to break it. Galinda was mesmerized, letting the silvery chain dangle from her fingers as she examined the pendant, and Elphaba wished she would just say something.

But Galinda seemed, surprisingly, to have been rendered speechless.

“The, um—” Elphaba cleared her throat, and placed her hand under Galinda’s. “It won’t really help you if you get lost somewhere, because it doesn’t point north. It points—here. It points back home.”

Galinda’s gaze snapped up to meet hers. Elphaba couldn’t quite read the expression—but her grip on the pendant tightened slightly.

“Why—” Galinda licked her lips. “Compasses only have one needle. Why is there a second one?”

“Well.” Elphaba swallowed. “That one points to the other compass. Always.”

For a moment, there was only wind. Then a quiet, unsteady breath.

“You’ll always know where I am,” Elphaba added, because she couldn’t not say it. “And I’ll know where you are. If you want that. You don’t have to wear it all the time, I just—I thought—”

She never finished. Galinda surged forward and kissed her, quick and enthusiastic and clumsy with feeling. The kind of kiss Elphaba had come to know. It made her relax immediately.

When Galinda pulled back, her eyes were bright and a little watery, but her grin was impossibly wide.

“Elphie,” she said, voice trembling as she clutched the pendant to her chest, “this is the most romantic thing I have ever heard. Are you joking? It points home and to you? You made me something that brings me back to you? That brings us—home? How did you even come up with that? And what kind of magic is it—?” She squinted at it, speaking far too quickly for Elphaba to get a word in edgewise. “Directional enchantments, binding magic—and what is the range of these things? Usually there are limits—but you don’t care about limits, do you? No, you’re far too powerful for that—”

“Galinda—”

“Oh, never mind the particulars, Elphie, truly. The point is it’s perfect. It’s beyond perfect. It’s you. And it’s mine. And you’re mine. And I am just—completely undone by you.”

Elphaba had no words. Just the very real possibility that she might dissolve into a puddle right there on the terrace.

Galinda didn’t seem to notice—or perhaps she did, and didn’t care—because she kept going, fast and animated and earnest: “Also I’m never taking it off, and if anyone ever tries to steal it from me I will personally hex them, and I don’t even know how to hex, but I will learn. For this. For you. For us.”

Then she laughed. “Goodness! Thank you so much, I really do love it. Easily my most prized possession now. Sorry, Elphie. I’m sorry, I’ll stop. I’ll stop before I say something truly ridiculous and you push me into another body of water.”

“I won’t.” Elphaba chuckled with her, watching as Galinda put the two pendants side by side. They hadn’t cost much and Galinda could probably tell, but it didn’t look like she cared one bit.

Elphaba couldn’t take her eyes off her.

Galinda was radiant in the fading afternoon light, cheeks flushed pink with happiness, cradling those two little compasses like they were rare, precious things.

So this was what it meant to give something of yourself and have it received with such pure, unbridled joy.

“Galinda,” Elphaba said. “I have something else to tell you.”

“Oh?” Galinda was still studying the charms, swinging them from side to side in front of her eyes as if trying to hypnotize herself. She wore the brightest smile Elphaba had ever seen, and it was directed at something Elphaba had made. “What is it, Elphie?”

She still didn’t look at Elphaba.

“I love you,” Elphaba said.

Galinda froze. Froze so thoroughly even the pendants stopped moving.

That single clock tick stretched as if it was a whole year, yet Elphaba felt nothing but calm as breath filled her lungs. She thought she would panic once the words were out, but she didn’t. It was just the truth. And she loved being honest with Galinda as much as she loved Galinda herself.

So she waited. It wasn’t a very long wait either way. Just a second, truly.

Galinda resumed motion intensely, of course. Every movement of hers was intense, but this most of all. She turned to Elphaba so fast her hair bounced, her eyes wide, her lips parted—

“Oh,” she exhaled in a rush, blinking very fast. “I wanted to say it first.”

Elphaba shrugged. “Should’ve hurried, then.”

“Yes.” Galinda let out a breathy, unsteady laugh. “Yes, I should’ve hurried. Elphie, I—”

“I know,” Elphaba said gently. “I know you do.”

“I know you know, but let me say it!”

That made Elphaba laugh, elated with love and fondness and a great number of soft things in between. “Say it, then.”

Galinda took her sweet time. She leaned closer, mouth shifting from side to side as she thought. Then she placed the silver pendant back in the box and reached for Elphaba, lifting the golden one and clasping it behind her neck. Elphaba gathered her hair up for her, though she didn’t need to turn; Galinda closed the clasp expertly, never taking her eyes off her.

She cupped Elphaba’s cheek, and trailed her knuckles down her jaw, over the delicate golden chain around her neck, down to the little compass carefully tucked just below the hollow of Elphaba’s throat.

Galinda pressed her hand there over the glimpse of skin, over the shirt, thumb resting against the steady beat of Elphaba’s heart. It was as though she were touching the very core of Elphaba herself, holding her heart in that dainty hand—a heart that beat just for her.

The urge to tell her just that was so strong. Elphaba wanted to tell her everything, wanted to let Galinda know just how much she meant to her, but she had said she would let Galinda say it, so she would. There would be time to tell her the truth—the full extent of it—soon enough.

Even if Galinda already knew, as Elphaba suspected she did. Especially if Galinda already knew.

Galinda’s hand remained there, warm over Elphaba’s chest, steady and grounding. Her thumb traced the edge of the compass through the fabric, as if she were drawing a circle around the place her words were about to land.

“I love you,” she said at last, quietly—no dramatics, no fanfare, just truth. It wasn’t like her usual declarations. It was gentler. Steadier.

Of course, Elphaba thought. The words had settled into Galinda long before she ever gave them voice. Elphaba had seen it in the way she looked at her, in every soft gesture, in every ridiculous, relentless kindness.

To hear it now, still, was like sunlight finding a crack and flooding in.

Elphaba’s breath caught. Not because she hadn’t known. Not because she hadn’t expected it. But because hearing it warmed her deeper than she thought possible. It was the gravity of it, how Galinda didn’t laugh, didn’t rush, didn’t elaborate. Not this time.

“I love you,” Galinda said again, firmer now. “And that will never change, no matter where these compasses might lead us.”

Elphaba lifted her hand to cover Galinda’s, still warm against her chest. She wondered, fleetingly, if love could leave marks—if she might pull open her ribs and find this perfect handprint on her heart, pressed deep and glowing. Surely she would. Elphaba threaded their fingers together and tugged her closer until their foreheads touched.

A warm breeze stirred, fragrant with flowers and dusk. The shadows stretched across the terrace, gold melting into rose, the moment caught in amber.

“May I?” Elphaba asked quietly, nodding toward Galinda’s necklace.

Galinda nodded and turned, and Elphaba clasped it around her neck with care. When Galinda faced her again, she was smiling so brightly Elphaba almost had to close her eyes. Galinda held the compass to her chest for a beat, then flung her arms around Elphaba’s shoulders and kissed her.

It was a long, melting kiss, like warm honey, soft and slow and gentle.

Elphaba felt it everywhere.

“I got very lucky with you, did you know?” Galinda whispered against her, fingers toying with the chain around Elphaba’s neck. “And I love you so much.”

“I love you more.”

Galinda gasped, scandalized. “False statement! Bold lies!”

Elphaba giggled. “Let’s not quarrel.”

And then she kissed her again.

It felt impossible that summer had already ended.

The suitcases were packed. The dishes from their last breakfast had been cleared. The sun was high, and the waters to Shiz would be calm. Everything was in order—but Galinda’s heart felt like a string pulled too tight, one more tug away from unspooling.

This summer had passed more quickly than any in her memory. She had lost herself in rediscovering all of her favorite places with Elphie by her side, entire days filled with the kind of laughter that made her sides ache—all of it seemed to have slipped through her fingers like water.

Now she stood with Elphie on the dock, surrounded by luggage and that unmistakable atmosphere of imminent departure.

Galinda watched as their things were loaded into the boat and felt a pleasant sort of ache. Elphaba was not returning to Shiz with just that single beaten-up valise, but with several new ones. Still not nearly enough to rival Galinda’s own collection, of course, but there was time.

“You’ll write to us?” Momsie asked, smoothing invisible creases from the collar of Galinda’s uniform.

“Of course!” Galinda said. “It pains me that you even have to ask, Momsie. When do I ever not write?”

“Well.” Momsie sniffed. “I suspect you’ll be rather busy now, what with your Elphie and whatnot. You won’t have time to think of us. But please don’t let your little honeymoon period distract you from your studies.”

The start of that sentence already had Galinda blushing, but by the time her mother was finished, she was positively burning. “Momsie, I beg you. Don’t say such ghastly things.”

“Nothing ghastly about love.” Momsie patted her shoulder. “I’m just doing my due diligence as a mother, sweetling—you understand I must. Especially after I let you walk all over me and my rules while you were here this summer.”

“Alright, that’s a little harsh,” Galinda muttered. “Sometimes your rules are quite ludicrous, Momsie, and that has nothing to do with me.”

Momsie sniffed again and drew Galinda into what must have been their dozenth hug of the morning. Not that Galinda minded. Not one bit.

She could feel Elphaba’s eyes on her. Elphie was standing with Momsicle not far off, and they were both watching the exchange with similar enough smiles.

“I’ve packed medicinal teas,” Momsicle said, “for when the winter colds make their rounds. There are cream puffs in the blue tin, courtesy of your mother, of course, and preserves from the garden. All in that little trunk right there. Do you see it, Galinda?”

Galinda smiled. “I see it, Momsicle. Thank you.”

“Good. Great.” She smoothed her hands down her dress and tucked a stray curl behind Galinda’s ear.

Galinda felt a sudden tightness in her throat. For all her mothers’ fussing, there was genuine concern beneath it, a love so expansive it couldn’t help but express itself in practical worries and thoughtful gifts.

“And for you too,” Momsicle added, turning to Elphaba. “We packed extra of everything, so there’s enough for both.”

“Thank you,” Elphaba said. “For everything.” The soft, simple words delivered with that little smile of hers were lethal even for Momsicle. She was usually composed, but even that made her blink rapidly.

“It was our pleasure, dear,” she said. “And our home is always open to you. Remember that.”

“I’ll remember that,” Elphaba said easily, still smiling.

Momsicle nodded, and kissed Galinda’s forehead and gave her a hug. “Be safe, sweetheart. And make sure she eats. And sleeps. And doesn’t do anything too reckless without checking with you first.”

“Reckless, me?” Elphaba muttered.

“I’ll make sure!” Galinda said brightly.

Warm delight seeped into her as she watched Momsicle give Elphaba a hug, too, and as she watched Elphaba return it without hesitation.

“Well then,” Momsicle said, clearing her throat. “I believe that’s everything. Unless there’s something we’ve forgotten?”

“Just this,” Momsie said, her eyes twinkling.

She opened her arms again, and Galinda stepped into them, breathing in the familiar scent of lavender and rose water that had meant mother to her since childhood. After a moment, she felt Momsie’s arm extend, and then Elphaba was being pulled in too.

“You take care of each other,” Momsie said, her voice thick with emotion. “You will, won’t you?”

“We will,” said Galinda, patting her mother’s back.

Momsie pulled away just enough to turn to Elphie. “And you’ll come back?”

Elphaba hesitated only a beat before nodding. “Yes. I’d like that.”

“Good!” Momsie grinned, and pinched Elphaba’s cheek casually, as if she had done it a million times before. Galinda saw Elphie blink and touch her cheek, but otherwise she seemed moved.

Chuckling, Galinda kissed Momsie’s cheek, and then Momsicle’s. “Love you.”

Of course, Momsie hugged her again, tight as ever. “And I love you,” she whispered into Galinda’s hair. “Don’t forget who you are. And don’t let the world tell you who you’re not.”

“I won’t.” Galinda beamed at her “And I’ll bring Elphie back in one piece, too. Promise.”

“Go on now,” Momsicle said. “Go on, duckie. Before I cry and your mother tries to sneak into the boat.”

“Just don’t forget about us,” Momsie added, dabbing the corner of her eye with her sleeve. This happened every time, so Galinda wasn’t too worried, but it still tugged at her heart to see her mother cry for any reason.

“Of course not! I’ll make Elphie write to you too, so you won’t even remember to miss us. It’d be like we never left.”

“How I wish that were true, dear girl.” Momsie sighed. “I’m already counting down the days until Lurlinemas. It isn’t very far away, and I expect to see the both of you.” She pointedly stared at Elphaba.

Elphie didn’t even flinch. “Yes, ma’am.”

“Don’t ‘ma’am’ me, Elphie. It makes me feel old and I don’t let anyone make me feel old. Not even family.”

“Of course,” said Elphie. “I’m sorry. I’ll be here.”

Galinda was taken back to their very first day in Frottica, to their arrival right here on this dock. How nervous Elphaba had been to make a good impression, how overwhelmed she’d been by the sight of it all.

And now Elphie was leaving—temporarily!—with three times as many belongings, and after calling this place her home. After hearing Momsie call her family and accepting it with nothing but that quiet little smile.

Finally, all the luggage was loaded into the boat, and the captain waved toward Galinda. “Whenever you’re ready, Miss Upland.”

“It’s time!” Galinda said. Truth be told, she felt a pang of melancholy, but it was tempered by the anticipation of returning to Shiz—to their studies, their friends, the life she had yet to live. “Don’t cry now, Momsie. Just remember it’s not goodbye—”

“It’s farewell,” Momsie finished for her, laughing. “Yes, quite right, my darling. Go along now. Be careful.”

Elphie helped Galinda step onto the boat, even though one of the boatmen had already offered. But Galinda took Elphie’s hand—not because she needed the help, but because she liked being helped by her.

The wooden deck rocked gently beneath their feet. Galinda turned back, taking in the sight of her mothers standing arm-in-arm on the dock, watching them go. She held the image tight in her heart.

“We’ll be back for the holidays!” Galinda called with an enthusiastic wave. Her mothers waved back. Then she whispered to Elphie: “They’re crying again.”

“I know,” Elphaba said softly. “So are you.”

“I am not!”

“You are,” Elphaba replied, and passed her a handkerchief without further comment.

Galinda sniffed, but she was smiling, dabbing away the beginning of tears. “Just a little misty, that’s all. Boats make people emotional.”

The dock drifted slowly away as the captain gave the all-clear, the vessel slicing cleanly into the shining waters. Galinda stood beside Elphie, arms looped together, and watched her mothers grow smaller and smaller until they were just two bright dots against the pale stone and green hills.

“There they go,” Galinda murmured. “They’re going to miss us so much.”

Elphaba chuckled under her breath. “You most of all, I bet.”

“Are you kidding me? Momsie’s already writing down recipes to bake for you this winter, and I’m sure Momsicle’s book collection is expanding in your honor. Truthfully, darling, I’m barely an afterthought these days.”

How she loved to make Elphie laugh. “You’re no one’s afterthought, believe me.”

Galinda kissed her briefly for that, because it was sweet of her to say, and because it was absolutely true, of course. “So—” Galinda grinned. “What did you make of Frottica?”

Elphaba smiled at her. “Loved it.”

“And what did you make of me?”

Soft fingers cradled the side of Galinda’s jaw, and Elphie’s thumb came to rest right over her dimple. The tender pressure made her giggle a little.

“Love you too, princess,” Elphie said.

Galinda giggled again, and they stayed at the railing until the dock was just a thin line on the horizon, the figures of her mothers no longer distinguishable from the other specks along the shore. Only then did she grab Elphie’s hand, leading them to the cushioned bench near the bow.

“How are you feeling?” Elphaba asked.

“A little sad,” Galinda admitted, leaning her head against Elphaba’s shoulder. “But also thrilled for what comes next.”

“And what’s that?”

Galinda thought of their room at Shiz, now a space they would share in a different way. She thought of classes and books and late-night conversations and whispered secrets. She thought of Elphaba by her side through it all.

“Everything,” she said simply. “Everything with you.”

“Everything.” Elphaba laughed that lovely laugh of hers, with the shy edge that only appeared whenever Galinda told her something nice. “Yes, me too. I’m excited to go back to Shiz, but this summer meant a lot to me. I’m glad you invited me.”

“I’m glad you came,” Galinda said.

The compass at her throat hummed under her blouse, its needle pointing unerringly to the girl beside her—her north star, her home, her heart’s true direction. Always.

And the other needle, well, would always point back here.

The world felt steady. Sun above, water below, a future ahead.

“Elphie?”

“Hmm?”

“Next summer will be even better.”

Elphaba smiled, and it was so genuine it lit up her whole face and crinkled the corners of her eyes. “I believe you,” she said.

And the most wonderful part was that Galinda knew she truly did.