Work Text:
“Galinda… why are you smiling?” Elphaba questions slowly, her eyes connecting with Glinda’s through the mirror on Glinda’s vanity. Glinda stiffens at the sudden attention, arms held tightly behind her back as the longer she doesn’t answer and simply stands there smiling, the more Elphaba’s attention turns from the painting she was working with Glinda’s makeup products, her body now fully abandoning it as she rises from her seat to face her.
“You don’t like my smile?” Glinda pouts and Elphaba rolls her eyes.
“Of course I like your smile.” She says instinctively, doesn’t blush at the admission as much as she used to, before she takes a step forward and studies Glinda’s rigid demeanour.
“But you’re smiling your mischievous smile, and I can’t say that I’m a fan of that.” Glinda’s body sags in dejection, her shoulders slumping forward while her arms remain behind her back.
“So, are you going to tell me what you’re hiding behind your back or am I gonna have to find out?” Elphaba’s fingers trail on the bed that separates them, her body angled to cross over it before Glinda sighs.
“It’s a gift.”
“Oh. For me?”
“No, for Fiyero.” Glinda retorts sarcastically and Elphaba rolls her eyes before waiting. When Glinda says and does nothing more, Elphaba sighs.
“Well, are you gonna give it to me?”
“No.” Comes Glinda’s response.
“‘No’?” Elphaba parrots incredulously and Glinda shakes her head, stepping back as she guards the gift more diligently.
“I don’t want to.”
“Galinda, please.” Elphaba pleads and, well, Glinda’s never been too good at denying Elphaba. She shuffles a rectangular box out from behind her back, which Elphaba takes gently and uncovers.
“It’s a painting.” She observes, lifting out the canvas.
“That I painted.” Glinda adds and Elphaba’s eyes shoot up to hers.
“You painted this?” She asks breathlessly, and Glinda nods, unable to speak. Elphaba’s eyes drift back down to it, scanning it intently, before a gentle smile graces her face and she looks back at Glinda.
“It’s good.”
“That’s generous.” Glinda counters with a lazy wave of her hand. “It’s out of love, that’s why you like it.”
“But, it’s gorgeous.” Elphaba insists, holding the painting further out to examine it fully.
“It’s not good. You love me.”
“It is good.”
“No. It’s not.”
“It’s really beautiful, actually.” Elphaba maintains, her eyes never drifting from the painting, and Glinda huffs before she leans across the bed to point a finger down the center of the painting.
“It’s also burnt in the middle because I set it on a candle.” She explains through a grumble and Elphaba leans in close, searching for it before she moves back.
“It is not burnt.” Elphaba concludes but Glinda pays it no mind.
“It was an accident.” She continues. “It was supposed to be a beautiful landscape of the pond at Shiz, but now there’s a hole in the middle of it.”
“There’s no hole in the middle of it.” Elphaba sighs, brushes her fingers over it. “You’re exaggerating.”
“I’m not.” Glinda pouts, crossing her arms.
“You are. It’s in your DNA to be dramatic.” Elphaba notes, glancing up at Glinda with a fond smile, so Glinda can’t protest the (very accurate) observation.
Elphaba watches Glinda some more, seems to sense the tension still in her posture, so she sets the painting down to look at her with an open expression.
“You have to give yourself the credit that is due.” She says softly and it hits Glinda strongly, drawing tears out of her eyes quicker than she knows what to do with.
“Oh, Galinda.” Elphaba murmurs, moving towards her with an arm outstretched and meeting her in an embrace.
“Don’t cry.” Glinda sniffles louder into her shoulder. “Why are you crying? It’s gorgeous.”
“I wanted this to be good for you.” She confesses into Elphaba’s neck, shrugs awkwardly with Elphaba’s arms around her. “Like the stuff you make.”
“It is good.” Elphaba speaks softly into her ear, stroking up and down her back with her nails. “I love it.”
She draws back from Elphaba, waves loosely to the painting resting on the other side of the bed and whines, “There’s a gray orb in the middle of it.”
“There is not a gray orb.” Elphaba protests, but Glinda separates herself from Elphaba, rounds the bed to lift the painting.
“There is a gray orb.” She wipes at her tears before pointing emphatically at the center of the painting. “You can see it right here!”
“It’s not there, Galinda.” Elphaba moves next to her, takes the painting from her with one hand and shifts her glasses around with the other.
“I’m not understanding what you’re seeing. This is gorgeous, seriously.” Glinda’s crossed arms slowly loosen as she watches Elphaba hold the painting gently, stroking the watercolors with appreciation like she cares about the effort Glinda put into it (even if it’s not good).
“You’re... not just saying that?” She ventures tentatively, and Elphaba turns to her, smiles and shakes her head.
“Of course not. I really do love it, Galinda. Orb and all.” Glinda’s eyes widen and Elphaba’s smile flattens as she realizes what she’s said.
“So you do admit there’s a gray orb!”
“That’s not the point!”