Work Text:
When Elphaba opens the door to Glinda’s room (their room, she has to remind herself) the sticky sweet scent of fake strawberry and something else vaguely sugary engulfs her. It wraps itself up her legs and twines into her hair, smelling about as pink as the room itself. Elphaba coughs, waving one hand in front of her nose and using the other to push the rest of the way into the room.
“Glinda, what-”
“Oh, Oz!” Glinda curses, collapsing backwards onto her four-poster. She drops her wand onto the duvet and a coral pillow, which had been hovering slightly above the wooden floorboards, drops with a small plop.
Elphaba moves towards the back of the room, still holding an arm over her face and reaching blindly for the window.
“Elphie, it’s freezing, what in Oz are you opening that for?” Glinda sits up rapidly. “ I was just in the middle of that levitation spell we’ve been working on and it was going rather swimmingly until you distracted me. I was using that sweet little bottle of perfume that momsie sent me last week, and I got it nearly up to here-” she pauses for half a second to place a hand near her chest “-before it crashed right down. I swear-”
“Ugh, that’s the smell, isn’t it. It’s awful, we’ve got to get a window opened,” Elphaba sniffs. They are just weeks into this newfound friendship of theirs, and Elphaba seems to be perpetually torn between wanting to throw her roommate out the window and wanting to tuck her away in some tower and braid or hair or something stupid like that. It’s just that Glinda is so… Glinda. Always in her own sparkling bubble, seemingly floating above the rest. It made you a little intimidated and a little dizzy and it gave Elphaba this bizarre desire to protect her. Protect her bubble, her not-quite-innocence.
“No, it smells deliciousus! Momsie knows strawberry’s my favorite. And besides, I already said it’s far too cold for the window. Just come here, sit by me. I want to show you with the pillow, I really think I’m getting ever so much better.” Glinda pats the bed next to her with one well-manicured hand, picking up her wand with the other.
“Not right now, Glinda. I’ve got to study and I can’t think with this stench, it’s giving me a headache. If you won’t let me do the window then at least prop the door open and turn on the ceiling fan. Now really, I need to finish this chapter tonight and I’m barely halfway through.” Elphaba doesn’t know why she’s making excuses. She could finish the chapter in half the amount of time it would take her to argue with Glinda. But something in her stomach was flipping at the idea of sitting hip to hip on Glinda’s ridiculously soft bed, with the floral scent of her perfume closing in on them.
“Nonsense, this’ll be less than a moment and absolutely much more fun. Here, I’ll even open the window.” Glinda crosses over and nudges it open a crack, grabbing Elphaba by the shoulder and steering her towards the bed. The hot press of Glinda’s hand against her arm was doing funny things to her head. She was annoyed, she thought. Frustrated that she was being kept from her work and to have someone so clearly invading her personal space. Or maybe it was just that Oz-awful smell. But she never could say no to Glinda.
Glinda releases her once they reach the mattress, and they settle side by side on the bubblegum duvet. She picks up her wand and furrows her brow, tugging a glossy lip between her teeth. They both stare at the pillow. It remains stubbornly grounded. Elphaba shifts closer to her for a better look, pressing into her side. She can feel where they’re touching, all warm and buzzing gently. Glinda’s fingers clench around the wand, and her cheeks puff out a little. Elphaba has to resist the urge to laugh. She looks so focused, so concerned. Like she’s trying so desperately to direct every bit of her attention to the cushion, hoping to move it with sheer force of will. From where they’re touching, Elphaba can tell she’s barely breathing. She’s tense.
“Hey, relax. Don’t… No, breathe. Just let it happen,” Elphaba starts. “It’s not so hard, you just need to-”
Glinda releases the wand with a clatter and leans heavily into Elphaba’s side. Startled, Elphaba leans away, just slightly, and Glinda shakes her head as if she’s trying to clear it. “Focus, I know, I know. I was doing it before, I was, I just can’t concentrate with you right there. This was silly, you can study, I’m sorry. I’ll clean up the floor, I think the perfume might be getting to me too. I’m sorry,” she says, not looking at Elphaba. She forces out a little laugh and slips off the bed onto the floor, tossing the pillow back up to Elphaba and beginning to pick little glass shards from the wood.
“I wasn’t going to tell you to focus. I think you just need to let go a little,” Elphaba tries.
“Funny for you to say,” Glinda says, quietly, still not looking at her.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Elphaba feels a prickling in her chest. They fight, often. But this doesn’t feel like a fight. There’s something heavy and almost tangible in the air. The perfume is so strong Elphaba feels dizzy.
“You’re always perfect, Elphie. Your hair’s always pinned up and your clothes are always pressed and even your magic, it’s always just right. Precise, and it does exactly what you want it to do and it happens exactly when you want it to.” Glinda is standing now, glass resting in her cupped palm. Her voice is calm, matter-of-fact. But her eyes are wide, and she’s back to worrying her lip between her teeth. At least she’s actually looking at her now.
“You’ve got to be kidding me.” Elphaba could’ve laughed, loud. “You’ve seen my magic. You know that it happens precisely when I don’t want it to, and does precisely the opposite of what I want it to. Actually, it’s usually just a complete and utter disaster. Yeah, maybe it comes easily, but that’s because I can never get my fucking head clear.” She’s talking louder than she meant to, and she’s stood to match Glinda. “It’s like I’m always thinking too much, like there are a thousand thoughts and they’re all screaming at me, all the time. So yeah, I can do the fucking magic but that’s about all I’m good at. I’m pretty much shit at all of-” She doesn’t know what she's gesturing to. Maybe their room, comically split down the middle, pink and… not pink, with the lines blurring a little- a pair of Glinda’s heels next to Elphaba’s bed, Elphaba’s glasses on Glinda’s desk. Maybe she's waving her arm at the shattered bottle of perfume still lying in the center. Maybe Glinda. “-this.”
And then Glinda’s free hand comes up to touch the muscle in her jaw that she’s clenching and Elphaba just feels silly. Glinda’s hand is cooler than her face, and she feels it running through her like water, pooling low in her stomach. They meet eyes, brown and green, and Elphaba’s breath catches in her throat. She looks away, at the spilled perfume, and Glinda yelps, flinching her cool fingers away. “Oh, sugar.” Bits of glass fall from her other hand as she uncurls the fist she must have made at her side. They stand there for a moment, as ruby-red beads form in her palm. Wordlessly, Elphaba puts an arm around her waist and leads her to the small bathroom, brushing bits of glass away from her palm and running it under cold water. Neither of them speak as Elphaba rummages in the medicine cabinet for gauze- pink, of course -and wraps it around Glinda’s hand, which is still bleeding, slow and stubborn. Until.
“Thank you. I don’t know what’s gotten into me tonight. I really am usually far more careful.” Glinda’s words are bright as always, but there’s something in her face, like she’s thinking hard. It’s the same look she has when she’s trying to work through something tricky in class, or when putting together an outfit is giving her grief. When she’s trying to figure something out.
“I know. Thank you, too.” The words should be harder for Elphaba to force out than they are. “I shouldn’t have said all that, I don’t usually-”
“You can. Talk to me, I mean. More than you do. I don’t mind. I like it. It makes me feel good.” It might be the glowing lights of the bathroom, but her face is pink, like her uniform blouse, which she’s still wearing. The sleeves are rolled up above her elbows, and her wrists look pale and thin. Elphaba desperately wants to wrap her long fingers around them, to feel the fluttering pulse there.
“Okay. I mean, you too. Thanks. Again.” She isn’t sure what else to say, but the room is uncomfortably warm and she really does have to finish that chapter, so she gives Glinda an awkward little pat on the hand instead and scooches out around her. The sweet smell is stifling, but she doesn’t feel up to mopping, or much of anything, really, so she retreats to her desk and stares at her book for a while. After a minute or two she hears Glinda come out of the bathroom and start changing. Without looking Elphaba knows exactly what she’s doing- tossing her uniform haphazardly atop her bureau, pulling on one of her silky nightgowns, smoothing a cream into her face. She’s so particular about her face and hair, and her clothes, but she doesn’t seem to mind leaving her room in complete disarray. It’s one of the many things Elphaba finds so completely mystifying about her. There’s a break from the routine when the floorboards creak and Elphaba knows she’s sweeping up the glass, with a proper broom and dustpan this time. Maybe she should help, but Elphaba doesn’t trust herself to turn around right now. It’s not until she hears the twinkle of glass in the wastebasket and the gentle sounds of Glinda climbing up into her ridiculous bed and drawing the curtains closed, that Elphaba finally gets out of her chair. It’s easier for her to move now, with that velvety fabric hanging between Glinda and the rest of the room. She undresses quietly and gets into bed. The sheets are cold. For a while, she stares up at the ceiling. When it hits her, it’s not as sudden as maybe it should be. It’s slow and heavy and smells of strawberries.
Well, fuck.
Ozdust. Their strange moment over the shattered bottle, and the even stranger one in the bathroom. She thinks back. Her own face flushes at the memories. But Elphaba’s not an idiot, in fact she prides herself on it. And she can’t have been imagining this. Glinda’s pink cheeks, the little humming of her skin when they touch, her delicate fingers, brushing over Elphaba’s jaw. Elphaba has never had a friend before, but somehow, this doesn’t exactly feel like friendship. Maybe it hasn’t for a long time. And, perhaps encouraged (or more likely driven mad) by the lingering sweet scent, Elphaba sits bolt upright and climbs out of bed. The floor is cold under her bare feet and so is she, even in her long nightdress. They never closed the window.
She can see Glinda’s bed, bathed in the rosy glow of fairy lights, and she makes her way towards it. She forms a fist and knocks gently on the glossy wooden frame. They’re probably past the point of knocking -Glinda finds her way into Elphaba’s bed most evenings, to study or read together- but Glinda is usually the one coming to her, not the other way around.
“Elphie?” Her voice is rough and quiet, but she draws open the bed curtains nonetheless. “What-”
“You said I should talk to you more. You said you wanted me to.” Elphaba’s heart is racing, but she fumbles her way through the opening in the bed’s curtains and perches on the end of Glinda’s bed, tucking her feet up beneath her. Glinda lets the fabric fall back into place. She’s sitting up, her comforter tangled around her. But nothing about her is rumpled. Her hair is shiny and falls in gentle waves around her bare shoulders; she must have brushed it before bed. Her nightgown, which, as Elphaba predicted, is a pearly pink little slip of a thing, seems to melt into her peachy skin. Her eyes are huge and brown, almost gold under the pink lights. Elphaba thinks she’s the most beautiful thing she’s ever seen. She’s struck with the wild desire to run her fingers through her hair and tangle it, to brush the strap of her dress off her shoulder. To get that worried lip away from her teeth. Without thinking, she rests her thumb on Glinda’s lip and tugs it out of her mouth, oh so gentle. Her hand is cupping Glinda’s chin and she doesn’t move it away. Glinda’s mouth falls open into a comical pout, and Elphaba clearly isn’t thinking straight because she leans forward and meets it with her own.
And oh. Oh. Elphaba is wondering why she ever wanted to learn sorcery or do just about anything else because she now thinks she wants to spend the rest of her life doing this. Glinda is soft and small and tastes like sugar and mint toothpaste and she’s kissing her back. Really kissing her, making these addicting little noises in the back of her throat and running her hands up Elphaba’s arms, leaving a trail of goosebumps in her wake. “Wait,” Elphaba manages, as Glinda starts moving to the spot on her jaw she was touching before, down towards her neck in a deliberate, hot path. “I wanted to talk to you, really. I was going to tell you-”
“I know.” She stops for a moment, but she keeps her hands on Elphaba’s arms. “Oz, Elphie, I know. I’ve been waiting for you to figure it out for a million trillion years and now that you finally have the last thing I want to do is talk.” Glinda moves back to her neck with renewed vigor, bringing her hands to the back of it to hold Elphaba steady. Her nails are filed into sharp points- they dig into Elphaba and she gasps before she can swallow it down.
Something in Glinda lights up, then. Her lips are glossy with spit (mine, Elphaba thinks, giddy) and they smile, slow and sly. She grabs Elphaba’s shoulders and flips them, so Elphaba’s back is against the pillow, almost vertical. And holy fucking Oz, Glinda is in her lap. Glinda Upland is just about straddling Elphaba Thropp and the latter thinks she’s probably seconds away from her head exploding. She can’t say she hasn’t thought about this, late at night, when she was hot and her mind was spinning, and okay, maybe during the day too, when they link arms on the way to class, or when Glinda is twirling her hair with her pencil and her skirt is riding high on her thigh. But her imagination has certainly not done it justice. Glinda is light on top of her but Elphaba’s breath is still coming hard. They’re just looking at each other. Glinda has spots of color high on her cheekbones and she’s panting a little, mouth open again. Elphaba is all but lying beneath her, and she knows she’s staring but she can’t help it, not when this girl’s hair is liquid gold, tickling her face, and her chest is rising and falling quickly, and Glinda doesn’t seem to be doing much better. “You’re so beautiful, Elphie. I know I’ve told you before-”
“All the time. You tell me all the time. I didn’t know you really meant it,” Elphaba breathes, honest.
“You don’t even know how much.”
And then, just as Glinda wished, there isn’t much talking. Elphaba thinks she would probably give Glinda anything she wanted, for the rest of time, if this is what happens when things go her way.
After, Glinda buries her head in Elphaba’s collarbone. Her hair smells like strawberries. Elphaba breathes in deep.