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Elphaba wakes to a pillow to the face.
“Well, you’re positively exhausted, aren’t you, darling?” Her voice chimes.
“Yes,” Elphaba confirms. “I am. And, for some reason, you’ve decided to wake me up.”
“Oh, but I just missed your company so much!” Galinda ducks down to place a sticky wet kiss to her cheek. “Aaaand,” she trills, “I needed someone to talk to about something.”
“More importantly,” Elphaba deadpans.
“Nothing’s more important than you, my dear.”
Elphaba purses her lips. “Alright, so what is it?”
Galinda takes a deep breath, and then brings two nearly identical necklaces from behind her back. “Which one?”
“Galinda…”
"Elphaba..." Galinda deadpans.
"You're not serious."
“I’m deadly serious,” she says, face stony. “Which one?”
“Does it really make that much of a difference?”
“Oh, Elphie, yes, it makes all the difference. This one:” she motions with one of the necklaces, “says ‘I’m a wealthy heiress with three poodles.’ This one:” she motions with the other, “is a little more down to earth, don’t you think?”
“Oh, definitely,” Elphaba bubbles.
Galinda’s face drops. “You’re being patronizing.”
“What makes you say that?” Elphaba snarks.
“Listen, missy. Tell me which one you like better. This one:” she brings the wealthy heiress one to her necklace. It looks perfectly lovely, draped over her collarbones. “Or this one?” The other one, lacking just a little bit of the sparkle of the first.
“The poodle one,” Elphaba says, rolling away from her.
“Oh, good, that was what I was thinking, too. The second one has less of a shine, doesn’t it?”
Elphaba grumbles into her pillow, that having been the very thing she was thinking. Galinda is rubbing off on her.
“Elphie.”
Elphaba refuses to turn over.
“Elphie, come on,” Galinda whines.
Elphaba rolls back over. “What?”
“I would like it very much if you would clasp this for me,” she smiles like the sun, holding the necklace out.
Elphaba considers declining, but thinks about the feel of her hair under her hands for just a moment, the smooth waterfall of it, and decides otherwise. “Alright. Come sit here,” she says, sitting up and patting the spot on the bed next to her.
Galinda makes a face. “I can’t exactly sit in this dress.”
Elphaba blows out a breath. “Wasn’t it you who told me that fashion should never come before comfort?” – She had, in the early days, when she was trying to figure out what to do with Elphaba’s wardrobe, said that, running a featherlight hand along Elphaba’s clothed hip. ‘I want you to feel like yourself, still,’ she had said softly. ‘You know I would never take that from you.’
Galinda’s brows come together. “No, that doesn’t sound anything like me. Maybe you were speaking to someone else? Fashion is always before comfort, is what I probably said, if it was me. And you got the words jumbled around in that funny head of yours.”
Elphaba stares at her.
“Your funny, very lovely head,” she smiles placidly, turning away to face a mirror. Elphaba watches her face in the reflection, watches her decide to backtrack. “And, anyway, if I did say that, which I most definitely did not, I was only referring to you and your clothing. For me, I am very willing to be uncomfortable if it means I look good.” She turns to look at Elphaba over her shoulder. “And I do look good, don’t I, darling?”
Elphaba rolls her eyes. “Yes.”
“Yes, I do indeed. I juuust need a necklace to finish off the ensemble. So, if you would…?”
Elphaba stands from their bed, shrugs a dressing gown on and ties it, and then walks over to stand behind her. Everything still feels new, Elphaba never having had anything like this before, and a little bit absolutely terrifying. She reaches up to sweep Galinda’s hair forward over her shoulder to reveal the nape of her neck.
Elphaba knows that if the roles were reversed Galinda would take this moment to lean in and press a kiss to the back of Elphaba’s neck, to the edge of her hairline, to the top of her spine. Elphaba flounders for a moment, looking at where her hair meets her head and the light dusting of goosebumps that appear as Elphaba breathes over the skin there.
“Are you alright, dear?”
Elphaba startles. “Yes. Fine.”
“Here’s the necklace,” Galinda says, holding it up for her. Elphaba takes it in hand. It’s fragile, so delicate in her hand. She wraps it around Galinda’s neck and clasps it, easy as that. Galinda begins to move to walk away. Elphaba grabs her by the shoulders.
“Elphie—?”
Elphaba ducks in to press a quick and rough kiss to the nape of her neck.
“Oh!” Galinda gasps. “Oh, my sweetheart,” she turns in Elphaba’s grasp to give her a peck on the lips. “You are just the darlingest,” she says, voice soft.
“Mm,” escapes her lips.
“Yes, well. Now you’ve got lip gloss on,” she reaches up to rub a thumb over Elphaba’s lower lip. “It does suit you, actually,” she says, tilting her head. “Maybe a deeper tone. A berry, maybe? Yes, you would look delightful in a berry lip gloss, I’ve decided. I’ll see about sourcing that for you,” Galinda smiles as if she’s done her one good deed of the day.
Elphaba has known her just long enough that the tone of her voice when she’s frazzled is recognizable. The kiss on the neck has thrown her for a loop.
“And,” she looks at her wrist, where there is no wristwatch. “I think I’m quite late. So I should go, is what I’m saying. Aaaand,” she sings, “one more kiss, I think.” Her shoes clack over to Elphaba and then she’s leaning in, pressing gloss-tacky lips to Elphaba’s. “Just.” She pecks her again. “One more. And I should go. And you shouldn’t tell me to stay!”
“I shouldn’t?”
“No. The thing is that you should absolutely not ask me to stay because I am actually desperate to stay and if you say it to me then I will not go to my very important not at all important plans and stay here with you.”
“Which is a bad thing.”
“A very bad thing. Because, then the friends I’m meeting who I don’t care about the opinion of at all will be cross with me and I’ll have to make apologies and you know how I hate to apologize, Elphie.”
“Yes, you’ve said before,” Elphaba says, smiling now.
“I have. And, if you,” she puts out a hand, “took my hand right now and told me not to go I would have to stay and I would have to apologize and I hate to apologize. But it would be nice to hold your hand right now. And also to hear you say that you don’t want me to go. Even despite all of that nasty apologizing business.”
Elphaba takes her hand and tells her not to go.
Galinda shines like the sun, so bright it’s blinding. And then she very kindly leads Elphaba back to bed.
“You’re very tired, after all.”