The train ride from Frottica to the Emerald City was simultaneously too lengthy and not long enough. While Glinda couldn't wait to wrap Fiyero in the tightest bear hug she'd ever given anyone, she absolutely dreaded the arrival at her destination.
Situated on an elevated plateau, the capital was clearly visible from dozens and dozens of kilometres away. By day, one could choose to view the landscape on the other side of the train instead, but for passengers who travelled late in the evening, the enigmatic green sheen emitted by the city was the only point of interest beyond the cabin. Even though Glinda had not been the least bit interested, and had brought along a novel, Sudoku books, as well as magazines to bridge the time, she somehow still found herself spellbound by the rare vantage point. Staring out of the window for the majority of the journey, she couldn't stop herself from reminiscing about the life she'd once led in this strange place, and how it had all come to an end.
She'd been through it all a million times in the past few months, and memories that had once seared her soul like glowing embers mostly only left an unpleasant sting by now. There was one period, however, she'd pushed far back in her mind and hardly ever revisited. Her last day in the Emerald City. It was by no means the most traumatic of events, but it had still managed to leave a bitterer aftertaste than any of the others.
It had ended with a journey just like this one, only in the opposite direction. Too preoccupied with bridling her abundant tears, she hadn't caught a single glimpse of the wondrous sight of the glowing city then. Before that, she'd left Crope and Tibbett behind—with no more than a bundle of notes to cover her rent for the next month and a brief letter that explained (rather badly) the reason for her sudden departure. She didn't want to even begin imagining their confusion in the following morning.
And the catalyst for this hasty flight?
Truth be told, she'd played with the idea ever since the moment she'd kissed Elphaba goodbye in front of her apartment building. Yet by Monday, she'd pulled herself together and gone to work almost as if nothing had happened. It certainly hadn't been Glinda who'd been stuck dwelling on the misadventures of the weekend past; it had been the misadventures which had refused to let go of her.
Arriving to a ginormous bouquet on her desk, she'd known immediately that this was no good omen. The whole floor had been abuzz with whispers and giggles. Their appetite for juicy gossip had been palpable. Yolona had been anxiously waiting for her next to her desk.
"Chuffrey?" Glinda had asked her, and her colleague had merely nodded mutely.
Without a second look at the flowers or the attached letter, she'd made a beeline for Nikidik's desk. There was no wiser or dumber decision she could have made; Chuffrey had already rendered her effectively choiceless. She'd confessed her personal relationship with her client and reported his transgressions, pleading with her boss to remove him from her roster.
"Very well," Nikidik had said, his expression schooled and undeterminable, "Dayae will take over all dealings with Mr. Chuffrey from now on." He'd paused, looking at her and chewing the tip of his glasses. "I will also determine how to split your other clients among the remainder of the staff." At her astonished look, he'd simply added, "Good day, Miss Upland," and left for a conference in the meeting room.
Shock, anger, betrayal, injustice: Glinda couldn't distinctly remember feeling any of those, only a sense of numb disbelief. After a catastrophic weekend, months of discontent and anguish, this had been the icing on her crumbling cake of despair. The proverbial straw that broke the camel's back. Next thing she knew, her mother had picked her up from the train station and returned her to her childhood home. The chapter had been closed.
Or so she'd thought. Until tonight. Thanks to Fiyero, she was already as good as back to where she'd left off and frightened of the ghosts of her still rather recent departure.
At least for the moment of their reunion, she briefly forgot about all of it. Toting around no more than her duffle bag and a purse, she quickly ran towards him the moment she spotted him on the platform. Fiyero, still searching for her, was caught unaware and floundered a little when her body collided with his.
"Whoa, what the—!"
"Surprised?" she giggled, giving him a mighty squeeze from the side.
"Yes!" exclaimed Fiyero before composing himself just enough to turn around and reciprocate the hug, lifting her off the floor.
"Oh good. I hoped you'd be."
After putting her back down very gently, Fiyero took a step back. He rested his hands on her shoulders, so he could give her a quick once-over.
"Oz, Glin. I was so worried about you, but you... look good."
"Well, I always do, don't I?" she replied, her smile suddenly growing taught.
"You seem cheerful, too," he added.
"Because I missed you so much. Being away for so long was harder than I'd thought. I never realised how addicted I've become to your presence."
"That doesn't bode well for Shiz, does it?" commented Fiyero through clenched teeth.
She shot him a warning glare, but it soon softened.
"Not now, please. Let's just pretend for one short evening that everything is absolutely dandy."
Fiyero picked up her bag and they began walking towards the exit. Grabbing his free hand, Glinda yelped in shock.
"Fiyero! Your hands are frozen stiff!"
"The train was late," he said in his defence, watching her with amusement as she took off her scarf to wrap it around their joint hands.
"Seriously, you men are such children," she chided him. "Always so careless."
He only laughed.
"So. Where are we going from here?" her asked. "Warm up with a drink?"
Casting him a quick glance, Glinda shrugged.
"Just home is fine as far as I'm concerned."
"Understood, ma'am."
"Gosh, I certainly hope I don't look that old," she chuckled.
"'Miss' then," he corrected.
They found his car covered in a thin blanket of snow, and he instructed her to sit down while he took out a small piece of plastic to remove most of it from the windows. When he finally plopped down next to her, he asked once more whether she'd changed her mind, but nodded dutifully when she declared that she hadn't.
"So, what did you tell your parents?" he wondered as he drove.
"That I'm visiting a friend."
He flicked her a fleeting look, eyebrows raised.
"And that's all? After all this drama, they didn't think that it would be weird for you to come back here just to see some random friend?"
"You're overcomplicating this," she smiled sadly. "My parents neither think nor care that deeply."
Arriving at his apartment, she dropped her purse next to the shoe rack and paused, looking around as if she'd never seen the place before. Fiyero brushed past her, bringing her duffle bag into a separate room. The bedroom, if she remembered correctly. It was funny how foreign everything seemed to her now. Though she'd spent several nights here, she'd been too preoccupied to take her surroundings in properly. Three months had evidently been enough to erase most of her recollections.
Venturing further along the corridor, she noticed a panorama window at the very end, where the narrow passage issued into the lounge. A startlingly distinct image flashed through her mind. The Deer Park. Clenching her fists, she continued on her path, but made a pointed effort not to look into the direction of the window. She'd have to continue avoiding it for the remainder of her stay.
They decided to spend the evening on the couch, trying a couple of Fiyero's new games. They had various crisps and mini pretzels, and Fiyero emptied two bottles of beer. Glinda stuck to orange juice, which ultimately helped her secure a landslide victory over her friend, despite her lack of practice.
"Okay, no more competition games for tonight," he decided, in order to cut his losses. "Here, I show you my new favourite. It's a bit tricky, so you best watch me first before you give it a go, alright?"
She snuggled up to him, a blanked wrapped around her shoulders. The game looked fun, but she could barely stifle the yawn that struggled to escape her lips. Absorbed in the action, it took Fiyero more than twenty minutes to realise that she'd long since fallen asleep.
* * *
At breakfast, they talked about Fiyero latest article in a popular queer magazine.
"They even paid me for it," he reported proudly. "Not that I care as much anymore, but it feels good to get recognition for my work."
Glinda agreed wholeheartedly.
"What about your work?" he asked, making her cock her head in confusion.
"Whatever do you mean? I haven't worked a day since..." her voice trailed off, and Fiyero grimaced apologetically.
"Sorry, Glin. I was speaking of your artwork."
"Oh," she said and took to repeatedly stabbing her scrambled eggs with her fork. "Well, I'm not going to sell any of it. It's just a diversion, a hobby at best."
"You have yet to show me a single piece," teased Fiyero. "Did you bring them?"
"Just a few," she murmured, pushing herself to her feet. "As promised."
She returned to the bedroom to retrieve her portfolio, then handed it to Fiyero. Eyes trained on her plate, she ate a few more morsels until he made a small noise of approval.
"These are really, really good."
She looked up.
"You think so?"
"Definitely. Show them to Morrible and she'll grant you two more scholarships in a heartbeat."
"You're being silly," said Glinda, snorting a laugh.
"But why aren't you pursuing art or architecture instead?" he wondered. "Why politics? Sounds boring"
"It's not," she insisted. "It's important."
Her friend gave her a long, searching look, then dropped his gaze and began to eat again.
"You're doing this for Elphaba?" he queried bluntly.
Her mouth twitched.
"No. Maybe it's her fault that I started caring so much, but I genuinely think that Oz needs to change."
* * *
As Saturday rolled around, Fiyero was no longer content with spending all of their time together holed up inside the apartment.
"I know, I usually spend ninety percent of my waking hours on my laptop, but you'll be off again and gone for like forever in the blink of an eye. I don't want to waste this opportunity. There's a festival going on at the Royal Mall, and I'm gonna drag you there, and we're gonna enjoy ourselves."
"Goodness, you sound like Crope and Tibbs," she moaned, then froze, feeling a keen pang to her heart.
From the corners of her eyes, she saw that Fiyero had taken note of her reaction. Fortunately, he had the good sense not to comment.
"I know you used to be a lot more fun driven," he said with a sigh as he went back to folding his laundry. "I'm not going to tell you that you should revert to partying all weekend. I simply feel that you're holding yourself back from recovering from this melancholy. Unless it's more than that." He shoved his stack of shirts aside and fixated her with a penetrating stare. "You'd let me know if you needed help, right?"
Mildly annoyed, Glinda looked away at first, but eventually took a few steps forward to help him with the remaining clothes.
"I'm okay," she told him decisively. "Okay enough at least. And I'll come along if you it's so important to you. I'll even try to have some fun."
She didn't tell him why she'd been so apprehensive to agree to his plans. She'd never told him that much about Chuffrey, and she wasn't going to now. It was silly anyway. Even though it was the same park she'd visited with him, the Lurlinemas Festival was a very different occasion, and the man himself was incredibly unlikely to attend. She did insist, however, that they wouldn't stay past nightfall.
They entered the park through a different entrance, and she found it quite transformed. There was a clearing in the centre that she hadn't visited before. Only for today, it was cluttered with all manners of fairground rides.
They tried the Ferris wheel and retrospectively agreed that it was far too cold around this season to be lifted into the even colder air, unable to move for additional warmth. When Fiyero first proposed a ride on the merry-go-round, Glinda only laughed, but he was dead serious. With ease, he lifted her up onto a white horse.
"I've been working out," he grinned at her startled expression, and she began giggling almost uncontrollably.
He mounted the brown steed next to hers and held out his hand for her to take. In the end, even Glinda had to admit that the ride was over too soon. It was moment they couldn't have repeated if they wanted to. A second round would not have yielded the same satisfaction and they both knew it, comforting themselves with two big portions of pink cotton candy instead.
"Fancy a teddy bear?" he asked as they walked along the path that framed the clearing, right next to the tree line. There were several booths, each offering a different challenge to those who considered themselves lucky or skilled enough to take them on.
Glinda looked up at him and grinned.
"Are you a good shot? Is that something they teach to young gentlemen in the Vinkus?"
"Not so much these days," he chuckled. "Golfing more or less has taken the place of hunting. Most politicians or potential business partners now prefer the club over the rifle."
He had a crack at it anyway and scored reasonably well, popping nine out of ten balloons. Alas, it was not enough for one of the big stuffed toys he'd been aiming for. He paid for another clutch of ammunition.
"Can I have a go?" Glinda asked, rubbing her hands together to get the circulation going. "I haven't done this in ages. Popsicle stopped taking me to fairs when he figured I was growing too old for them."
"He let you shoot?" Fiyero exclaimed, amazed. "How unladylike."
"Anything can be ladylike if executed with grace and aptitude," countered Glinda and aimed her rifle.
She missed twice, but managed to also shoot two high value balloons with golden confetti in them.
"That's three hundred points altogether," the stallholder boomed in his strong voice.
"I failed," Glinda play-sulked. "I didn't hit enough balloons."
"But you failed gracefully," reassured Fiyero. "That's all that matters."
"Fine. I'll blame you for not giving me a better score to work with. I'm hungry now. What shall we eat?"
There were more food trucks than they could possibly sample. In the end, they chose four snacks from the four different corners of Oz and shared them. The supposedly Glikkun pancakes were Glinda's favourite, but if they were as inauthentic as the Wittica-style meatball skewers she'd purchased, this didn't say much about her compatibility with real Glikkun cuisine.
"It's getting dark," she remarked when Fiyero returned from his trip to the waste bin, disposing of their paper plates and bamboo forks and skewers. "And cold."
"Are you sure you don't want to stay a tiny bit longer? The concert is going to start soon."
She turned towards the stage at the north end of the clearing. Helpers were obviously engaged in the final preparations for the show, rolling a piano in position and placing microphone stands. She didn't know any of the bands that were set to perform, but had to admit that the outdoor concert sounded kind of exciting. The quickly growing crowd in front of the stage seemed to agree.
"Fine. We can stay a few minutes longer," she decided, telling herself that she'd so far not experienced any ill effects from her visit here. While the fairy lights in the trees, as well as the looming darkness did conjure up certain distant memories, the atmosphere as whole was pleasantly different and distracting.
"That's the spirit!" praised Fiyero, ruffling her hair.
"Hey!"
"Need something to warm up?" he asked, ignoring her protest. "I can smell mulled wine."
Following his nose, he dragged her along until they found the correct booth.
"I'd rather abstain from alcohol," Glinda said, shifting from one leg to the other. She hadn't had a single drop since the Lake Chorge disaster and intended to keep it that way from the foreseeable future.
"Don't you worry," grinned Fiyero, "they even have junior wine on the menu."
Glinda couldn't argue with that and eagerly sipped the steaming hot drink he handed her.
Barely a second later, she thought she saw something odd out of the corners of her eyes. When she turned around, however, there were only a bunch of ordinary people with their thick coats and scarfs.
"This definitely doesn't have any booze in it, right?" she asked her friend tentatively.
Frowning, he pursed his lips.
"It better not. It's supposed to be for kids."
"Yeah, true," she muttered thoughtfully and took another, much more cautious, sip.
The music began to play, but they didn't join the throng closer to the stage, sitting down on a park bench instead. Feeling the cold creeping back into her bones, Glinda shivered.
"Damn. It is getting cold, isn't it? I don't know if I can drink another cup of wine for the sake of staying at least kind of warm."
"How about a blanket?" suggested Fiyero and went to buy a nice knitted woollen one from one of the vendors.
"Toasty?"
"Yes, that will do for now," nodded Glinda and shuffled a little closer.
They sat, chatted and listened happily for a quite a while, and when Glinda eventually grew too cold again, despite their lovely cover, Fiyero convinced her to have one more drink after all. She acquiesced, under the condition that they would leave straight away the next time she became too uncomfortable.
About half an hour later, Glinda was a bit miffed when she was still very cosy, but started to feel nature beckoning. She told Fiyero that, regretfully, she felt it was time for them to return to his apartment, and that she'd just quickly pop over to the public toilets before their trip back.
Recognising the slight apprehension on her face, he offered to accompany her, but she shrugged it off, arguing that the area was well lit and fairly busy. She didn't want to be afraid. Instead, she sent him to buy a pack of fresh candied almonds to take home.
On her way back from the restroom, a tall figure, swathed in a big, black woollen coat with matching maroon scarf and hat caught her attention. They were sitting on a nearby park bench, hunched over, legs crossed, and, by the look of it, quite alone. It seemed all a little eerie, she had to admit; however, curiosity swayed her to spare another glance. It was rather dark, especially beneath the sprawling branches of the quoxwood tree, where the lights of the fairground could not reach, but it just so happened, that the phone in their hand lit up the very moment that Glinda was about to turn away.
The tantalising glimpse of green caused a surge of shock to shoot through the blonde's body, rooting her to the spot.
Gloves. They were gloves for sure. Who wouldn't wear bright green gloves with colour-coordinated brownish-crimson scarves and hats?
She must have made some sort of noise, for the peculiar figure suddenly began to move, lifting their head a notch, then unfolding their long legs.
"Glinda."
She gasped, this time fully aware of the shuddering sound escaping her throat.
Her first instinct was to run, but her feet were so cold she could have sworn they were frozen to the ground. It didn't matter anyway, as flight was utterly futile. Her muddled braid didn't even register Elphaba getting up from her seat before she stood right before her, scarf lowered a little, breathing big white clouds into the cold air. Glinda's own breath appeared to have forsaken her.
The taller girl afforded her a respectful arm's length distance, and for a while, she just waited there, hands and phone stuffed into her pockets. Her expression was perfectly stoic—as always when Glinda was most in need of clues to gage her mood.
"You look like you've seen a ghost," Elphaba commented as last, averting her gaze. Perhaps, she was feeling a tad guilty for accosting her the way she had. Or perhaps, she was trying to hide her disappointment.
"You—you're alone here?" was all Glinda could think to ask, but even those few words were a struggle. Elphaba gave her a cautious gander and nodded, which only made her feel worse. She swallowed hard. "Then it's no coincidence that you're here, is it?
Elphaba stalled, kicking the sparse snow with her heavy-booted foot.
"Well, I don't really want to throw your pal under the bus, but"—she looked up and directly into Glinda's eyes—"no."
Glinda didn't exactly know what to do with this information. She felt betrayed. They'd had such a wonderful time together, she and Fiyero. But it had all been a ruse to lure her out of the apartment, and to lull her into a false sense of security. Most likely, this entire trip had been part of the setup. It had been her expressed wish to avoid anything to do with her past in this city—as far as that was possible at least. Fiyero had pretended to agree to that, to respect her terms. He had, frankly put, exploited her trust.
Looking in the direction she was originally headed, Glinda murmured a few choice expressions, condemning her friend's actions. In her anger, she almost forgot all about Elphaba, but the girl reclaimed her attention with an uneasy cough.
Her head snapped back to Elphaba, eyes wide. Elphaba. What was she to do with her? Not for one second did she doubt that Fiyero was the instigator, but that still made Elphaba his willing accomplice. Wasn't that almost as bad?
Glinda's temporary inability to form any coherent sentences on the spot proved a blessing in disguise when her memories began to unfold in her head. The last time she'd seen Elphaba, she'd just delivered her back home from Lake Chorge. She'd thanked her for her help and said goodbye with a kiss. Then she'd disappeared on her, vanished without a trace. How could Glinda fault her if she had questions after that, or even if she wanted to take revenge?
She lowered her head in shame. She was the asshole here. She would have preferred to avoid this situation, but now that it came to it, she needed to apologise.
"Elphie," she said and sighed, hearing her voice waver after even just uttering her name. "You know... I'm sorry I left you behind the way I did. It—it wasn't right."
Drawing a deep breath, Elphaba shifted her weight.
"I was very confused," she admitted. "There was no way I saw this coming after..." She looked away for a clock-tick. Timidly gazing up through her lashes, Glinda could see the muscles of her jaw working like they were trying to grind her teeth down to the roots.
Tears began to prick at the back of her eyes.
"Oz, I'm so sorry," she blurted out, her voice choking up. "I was so terribly embarrassed. Asking you to drag me out of this mess that I, myself, had created. Making you prime witness to my humiliation; it was too much to bear." She sniffed and inhaled shakily. "Especially—especially when I considered what you must be thinking of me after all that. I didn't want to see it in your eyes the next time we met, I didn't want to hear it through the grapevine or any other way. I just wanted to set an end to it, even though it wasn't fair on you."
She paused, trying to catch her breath. The words that had earlier refused to come had now tumbled out like marbles from a bag that someone had carelessly nudged over. She tried to remember everything she had said, but soon gave up on it. She looked up at Elphaba to search for hints.
If anything, the green girl looked upset, and more so than Glinda had ever seen her. It wasn't anger that she saw, which maybe made it worse. Rather, it appeared as if Elphaba wanted to understand and justify her actions, reconcile if possible. But Glinda was resolved not to do this to herself any longer.
When Elphaba opened her mouth to say anything, she briskly cut her off.
"Well, honestly, it doesn't matter anymore. Elphie." She made her best effort to appear fierce and unapproachable. "I'm done," she added with finality.
Elphaba still seemed confused, so she mustered her last ounces of strength and continued.
"I can't take any more of this. Excuse my rudeness, because it's really not your fault, Elphaba Thropp, but I can't be around you anymore. Please don't ask. I'm neither strong nor courageous enough to explain. I'm just—"
Her startling outburst was followed by a feebleness she'd rarely experienced. Her tears were more than ready to spill over. Her heaving chest was no longer able to produce the powerful sound it had managed bare seconds ago.
"I'm just...," she started again—a squeak rather than a voice, "leaving."
With that, she finally spun around. The relief of no longer having to stare into Elphaba's expressive brown eyes allowed her floodgates to open and hot tears to run freely over icy cheeks.
Barely a few steps later, however, relief turned into mortification when long fingers curled around her wrist.
"Glinda! Wait!"
She stopped, but held her head low, hoping to hide behind her abundance of messy curls.
"Elphie," she pleaded, "please just let me go. You have closure now. That's the best I can offer you at present."
A pregnant pause followed, but Elphaba's grip didn't loosen.
"A moment. I just need a moment. To tell you that... to make sure that you know..."
Glinda felt tired, barely holding onto her strength enough to keep herself on her feet. Dejected and void of hope, she was waiting for whatever disdaining words Elphaba needed her to hear in order to placate her wounded feelings.
"Glinda. I don't believe there are many things in this world that you could possibly do for me to think badly of you," Elphaba declared at last. "Including whatever you think you did.
Glinda's breath hitched, but her heart squealed in pain. Why couldn't Elphaba make this at least a little easier on her?
Behind her, the other girl gasped for enough air to continue.
"Even if we were to never meet again"—she paused and Glinda's stomach made a most uncomfortable somersault to actually hear the words spoken out loud—"you must promise me to think better of yourself. You're more than a pretty face and your parent's money. Be proud of yourself.
"Promise me that!" repeated Elphaba, almost shouting at her.
At this point, Glinda couldn't help but sob like the pitiful wretch she was.
"You aren't supposed to forgive me so easily!" she half yelled. "Besides, if all that wasn't bad enough; perhaps I know something that might do the trick."
This time, the hand around her wrist tightened, holding her in place as Elphaba stepped closer.
"If you mean the whole business with Shiz," she said softly and let it hang between them.
Glinda's eyes widened at that, and horrified, she whirled around to look at her. Elphaba's expression was a little worse for wear, but once again undiscernible.
"Fiyero and I had some time to talk," she admitted eventually. "We don't have that much in common except for you. So, yeah, he told me about Shiz. Among other things."
Too astonished by Elphaba's relative nonchalance, Glinda momentarily didn't even think to ponder what 'other things' she might have meant.
"And you forgive me that, too?" she asked, her mind in a kind of daze. She blinked away the foggy sensation and began to cry again. "Oh Elphie, I simply don't know what to do with you!"
So there she stood, a bawling mess, in too muddled a state to know left from right, let alone what to do next. After a brief moment of her own, much more dignified befuddlement, Elphaba finally stepped forward to embrace her, holding her close and rubbing her back soothingly.
There was no telling how long they remained like this, but after some time, Glinda's tears began to dry up and her breathing calmed to a less hysterical degree.
"Now I got freaking snot all over your lovely coat," she hiccupped, feeling embarrassed again.
When she ever so slightly moved her head back to assess the damage, she noticed with alarm that it had begun to snow.
"Shit! Elphie, your hands, your face! If it melts on you!"
Struggling free from Elphaba's arms, she could see that some irritation had already occurred, especially on the back of her hands.
"Why didn't you say something, you silly, silly girl," she grumbled while taking off her scarf to cover the reddened skin with it.
She pushed her backwards, back towards the bench under the tree. They both sat down, and Glinda pushed back a silky strand of black hair to check for further blemishes. There was but one small patch of rash on her left cheek.
"Gosh, this must hurt like hell," exclaimed Glinda, blaming herself despite what she had said about Elphaba being silly. She was at the brink of crying yet again.
"Not as much as a broken heart," replied Elphaba, obviously trying to play it cool, but with an even more obvious crack in her voice.
Their gazes locked, and Glinda's face was suddenly no longer cold, but positively on fire.
Elphaba, for her part, seemed restless, unable to hold the eye contact for long. She evaded and sought the blonde's blue eyes in turns, until she finally leaned forward, breathing heavily.
Glinda didn't dare to do as much as blink. She was definitely scared, and in no place to adequately prepare herself, mentally. However, if Elphaba really wanted to kiss her... well, she knew it would still be a wonderful thing. While her words had already come awfully close to a declaration of love, she still needed a definite conformation. She could ask, she supposed. Or she could simply wait and see if Elphaba would actually kiss her as she thought she might. It would certainly save her from the embarrassment of asking and possibly being wrong.
But Elphaba did not lean in any further. Instead, she took one more breath and retreated, turning her head away and pulling her hat off. Her hair now fell freely around her face to obscure it. From what Glinda could tell, she had closed her eyes as if to collect her thoughts.
The blonde sniffled and bit her lower lip.
"Elphie?"
Upon hearing her name, Elphaba turned back towards her, flashing her the most fleeting of smiles.
"I'm sorry," she said calmly, but with a somewhat forlorn look on her face.
She disentangled her right hand from the scarf bundle and lifted it up to Glinda's face. Swallowing hard, she ran her thumb over her lips, eyes hooded as her gaze followed the same path.
"I want this so much," she confessed. "But not as much as I want to just be with you."
Glinda's heart stopped, and for a moment, she thought she must have died, because it wouldn't start up again. But her blood was most certainly rushing through her body in spite of it all.
"Y-you do?" she stammered.
Elphaba's hand moved to cup her cheek instead.
"Yeah. But I won't press the matter any further it if you don't want me to." She swallowed again. "But if you were to give me a chance; I swear, I won't fuck this up."
With Elphaba's hand right there on her face, Glinda had to fight hard to hold back the hazardous tears. It was a lot to take in, and she couldn't even decide if any of it made sense. Elphaba was sitting right in front of her. Her freaking hand still rested on her cheek, all warm and soft. Glinda reached to cover it with her own, then let her eyes flutter shut as she nestled into the gentle touch. After a brief moment of surreal bliss, she began to chuckle.
"Is—is that a good sign?" she heard Elphaba ask uncertainly.
Glinda didn't want to open her eyes and face reality, but the subtle change in pressure from Elphaba's hand had not escaped her noticed. With a sigh, she looked up at the girl opposite her, slowly letting their joint hands sink.
"I don't know," she said and exhaled heavily, then redirected her gaze to the ground. "Someone must have spiked my drink or something, or maybe I was attacked and knocked over my head. Because this conversation totally isn't happening."
She added a mirthless laugh for good measure, then stood, wrapping her arms around her waist in search for comfort.
Elphaba's brows furrowed as she watched her with growing bewilderment.
"Look," she cried with some urgency, on the verge of jumping up from the bench herself. She reconsidered though and decided to stay put. Her voice, too, was softer when she began to speak again. "Glinda, I knew I was taking a risk here. We haven't seen each other in a few months and obviously you've had a lot of crap to deal with. I can't possibly pretend to know what it is you want right now. So please, if your earlier feelings towards me have changed; could you do me this one last favour and tell me plain and true?"
Glinda once more regarded Elphaba, and this time, and saw only her. All other elements—sounds, visions, everything—had faded away, and her heart ached harder the more and more she became aware of Elphaba's desperate condition. She was doing this to her. How could she be so cruel? She was supposed to cause the girl she cared so much for bliss, not make her completely and outright miserable.
She reached out with her hand and took Elphaba's, beckoning her to stand, which she reluctantly did. Glinda carefully caressed the blemishes caused by the snow.
"Can you promise that this definitely isn't simply an absurd and vicious dream?"
"Need me to pinch you?" retorted Elphaba wryly.
Glinda couldn't even begin to fathom how she was somehow able to still make the remark sound gentle and caring. This was genuine Elphaba flair, something even her wildest imagination wouldn't be able to reproduce.
"Well, I had something more pleasant in mind," answered Glinda, her voice hardly above a whisper.
She braced herself, chest heaving in anticipation. Concentrating on Elphaba's deep, full eyes, she willed her to understand her meaning.
And understand Elphaba did, yet the tumultuous heights and lows of their conversation had left their marks on her already shaky confidence. If anything, her reluctance had only increased. The evidence of that was written all over her face and now painfully obvious to Glinda.
"Dammit, Elphie!" the blonde exclaimed, close to tears again. "Do I really have to do everything myself?"
With that, she firmly grasped the lapels of the black, woollen coat and half pushed, half pulled herself to her tiptoes, pressing her lips hard to Elphaba's mouth.
There were no fireworks going off in the background, there was no angelic choir singing. The world did neither end, nor spin faster with this one, long-awaited kiss. Elphaba's lips were soft and tasted of that balm she had to constantly use in order to protect herself from moisture. Both were rather pleasant qualities, but helped nothing in sparking her desire for more.
When she broke the contact and slowly let herself down, her breathing was laboured—from the physical and emotional effort rather than the sensuality of it all. She wasn't exactly disappointed. She'd never expected more from this, but supposed a tiny glimmer of hope had never quite stopped twinkling in the distant darkness. It was gone for now, but she was okay with that.
She licked her own lips to taste Elphaba's balm once again, almost as if to confirm that this had actually happened. It had, as it turned out, and she was rather proud of herself. However, this wasn't the important part at this point. She lifted her gaze with a good amount of trepidation, apprehensive of what she might find up there in Elphaba's expression.
The green girl looked astonished, despite the predictable build-up, like she hadn't had much faith left until it had happened. Or perhaps, she'd underestimated Glinda's potential for foolhardy courage. At first, Glinda wasn't sure if her hard work had truly paid off, yet bit by bit, as realisation seemed to slowly set in, Elphaba's cheeks grew discernibly darker, with a tinge of mauve to them. Her own face seemed to blush even deeper at the sight, and Glinda soon gave in to the sudden urge to find out what would happen if she were to repeat the action.
She placed a second, softer kiss on Elphaba's lips, then a third, before distancing herself barely enough from her face so she could observe the outcome. Elphaba's eyelids were closed when she first looked, then fluttered open; her mouth was slightly parted.
"You are so beautiful, Elphaba Thropp," she breathed. The thrill of seeing her like this, without a doubt, made up for all she lacked in the passion department.
"Stop lying," said Elphaba huskily before kissing her to make sure she would speak no more.
Their lips crashed together hard and fervently. Glinda could feel Elphaba let off momentarily before placing a slower, gentler kiss on her lips, as if to apologise and soothe. She made no attempt to deepen the kiss, starting to roam sideways instead. Initially smiling at the sensation of fluttering butterfly kisses along her jaw, Glinda couldn't help but shudder involuntarily when Elphaba's lips reached her neck.
"Elph—Elphie," she sighed, lightly patting her shoulder to gain her attention.
Elphaba stopped at once and, fairly out of breath, met her eyes.
"Are you okay?"
"No, not at all," gasped Glinda, then chuckled nevertheless. "Someone must have turned off the oxygen around here."
Elphaba stared at her for a clock-tick, then snorted a little laugh before clearing her throat and schooling her face again.
"Too much?" she whispered, slightly worried.
"Almost," replied Glinda, but smiled happily. "If you listen to me, I will never let you stray too far from the boundaries of my comfort zone, so there is no need for you to worry about that at all."
"And I will always listen," promised Elphaba, wrapping her arms around Glinda and pressing her firmly to her body.
The impact of this simple, generally underrated hug proved more powerful to Glinda than their kisses, and she had to hold on tight to Elphaba to prevent herself from swooning. And at that moment, it seemed to her like the world might have stopped turning after all, or, at the very least, time had ceased to exist. She had no idea how long they might have stood like this, and she didn't know if she ever wanted to move again if it meant to break from Elphaba's embrace.
It was Elphaba who first acknowledged the inevitability of their separation.
"My sweet?" she murmured tenderly, placing a kiss on the top of her head.
Glinda soaked in what she knew were the final seconds of this precious moment.
"Hmm?"
"Do you think Fiyero might be looking for you?"
"Screw Fiyero," Glinda replied sullenly, burying her face deeper into Elphaba's scarf.
She could feel her chest vibrate as she laughed.
"This is what he wanted, isn't it?" she continued, her voice muffled by the fabric. "He should be glad I'm not storming back out there to wring his freaking neck. What was that jerk thinking, to deceive me like this?"
"Shouldn't I be worried about my own neck as well then?" chuckled Elphaba, but when Glinda finally forced herself to let go, her expression once again had taken on a rather troubled quality.
"I won't let anything happen to that neck of yours," Glinda said solemnly, readjusting the maroon scarf.
Once she'd mostly recreated Elphaba's original state of dress, Glinda let her gaze meander across the visible part of clearing, wondering whether she'd be able to find Fiyero. Whether she wanted to find Fiyero.
"Would—would you come home with me?" Elphaba's question startled her out of her wavering thoughts. "Like right now, I mean."
Glinda slowly turned her head back in the other girl's direction.
"You trust me, right?" probed Elphaba.
Glinda's frown turned into a bright smile.
"Unconditionally." She took one last deep breath, cast one last glance back. "Okay, let's go. I'll text Fiyero on the way."