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Not everyone has a soulmate.
Only the most lucky and blessed do.
At least, that’s what everyone says.
A soulmate is someone meant for you.
Someone whose destiny is entwined with yours.
Maybe a best friend.
Or a family member.
Or a lover .
It is said that those who have soulmates will see them in visions, their dreams serving as a bridge between two minds, a thread linking two souls so that, even before they meet, so that they will always know each other.
And that when they finally stand face to face, they will feel it—
That sense of coming home.
Of belonging.
Of being two and yet one at the same time.
The books never quite capture what it truly feels like.
No one can.
But from the moment Galinda understands what a soulmate is, she longs for hers.
She listens to other children whisper excitedly about the figures in their dreams—vague silhouettes that will sharpen as they grow, their fated person becoming clearer with time.
A girl with golden hair.
A boy with a dimpled smile.
A faceless figure whose voice feels familiar but whose features are still unknown.
Galinda, however, has never known such vagueness.
Her soulmate has been vivid in her dreams from the very beginning.
And her soulmate is green.
At first, she thinks it must be a trick of the light, a quirk of her dreaming mind.
But no—every night, the same girl appears, deep green skin glowing in the dimness of Galinda’s subconscious, sharp features cast in moonlight.
Sometimes, she is sitting by a window, staring out at the night sky.
Other times, she is reading, her long fingers tracing the words in a book.
And sometimes, she turns—dark eyes locking onto Galinda’s, lips parting as if to say something—
But then, Galinda always wakes.
No one else dreams of someone with green skin.
No one else describes a soulmate so strange and impossible.
She wonders if her dreams are wrong.
If maybe she doesn’t have a soulmate at all, and this is simply a mistake—a story her mind has invented to keep her from loneliness.
And yet, she cannot let go of the girl in her dreams.
She clings to her.
As Galinda grows, the dreams become more than fleeting visions.
By the time she is a teenager, she and the green girl are no longer just shadows passing through each other’s subconscious.
They sit across from each other.
They speak.
The words are hazy when Galinda wakes, her dreams slip away like mist, but the feeling remains, the feeling of longing for her soulmate.
The girl in her dreams watches her with a quiet curiosity, her gaze sharp yet unreadable.
Sometimes, she laughs, the sound warm and rich.
Other times, she looks away, sighing as if she already knows something Galinda doesn’t.
Galinda doesn’t understand.
But she knows, with every piece of herself, that this girl—this impossible girl—matters.
That this girl is her soulmate.
Galinda just needs to find her.
*
From the moment Galinda arrives at Shiz, she keeps an eye out for her soulmate.
It’s not a conscious thing—it’s simply habit.
One she’s done ever since she first learned what the girl in her dreams meant.
For years, she has held onto the hope that one day, she will turn a corner, step into a room, and find the girl from her dreams standing before her.
It’s meant to be a grand moment—something fate has been weaving together since before she could understand it.
But when the moment comes…
The courtyard is loud with the rustle of new students arriving, the air filled with the flurry of greetings and gossip.
And then—
A hush.
The kind that ripples outward, swallowing up all other sounds.
Galinda turns—because, of course, she does, everyone does—and the sight before her steals the breath from her lungs.
The students have all turned to stare, in horror and shock.
And she—Galinda—stares too, but for an entirely different reason.
For so long that it seems all proper words and greetings escape her, all of her delicate plans for her very first meeting with her soulmate fluttering out the window as she blurts out—
"You’re green."
The words land too loudly in the quiet, ringing out with far too much certainty.
Because her dreams were right.
Because she is real.
Elphaba—because that must be her name, though it feels too strange to attach something so ordinary to someone Galinda has always known in the hazy, endless space of dreams—stiffens.
Her dark eyes flick to her, sharp and wary.
And then—
A speech.
Quick.
Sharp-edged.
Prepared, as if she has spent years carrying it in her pocket, ready to pull out at the first sign of scrutiny.
Yes, she’s green.
Yes, she’s always been green.
Yes, she’s well aware of it.
Can they all move on?
The students titter, whispering behind their hands, barely holding in their laughter.
But Galinda doesn’t care.
Because she knows.
She has found her soulmate.
And yet—
Elphaba doesn’t look at her like she knows Galinda back.
She watches, before her eyes, as her soulmate shuts her out—
Treating her like a stranger.
Not like someone Galinda has waited her whole life to meet.
Or someone that had waited their whole life to meet her.
*
One would think that rooming with her soulmate would make it easier to bring up the topic of their soulmate-ness.
But no matter how many times Galinda tries—and she does try—to bring it up, Elphaba shuts her down.
Every time.
With a confused or displeased look.
A furrowed brow.
A brisk retreat into silence.
Galinda tries to laugh it off.
To make it feel casual.
She’ll mention the dreams, the way they’ve always seemed to be connected.
She’ll speak of the idea of soulmates as if it’s a well-known fact, sure that Elphaba will see it too.
But Elphaba doesn’t even entertain it.
And with every refusal, Galinda stews.
Frustration builds in her chest like a storm cloud.
How can she be so sure of this connection and yet find it impossible to explain?
Elphaba has been her dream companion for years, but now, in the waking world, she seems to want nothing to do with her.
Perhaps, maybe Elphaba wasn’t meant to be her soulmate at all.
Perhaps she was meant to be her soul- enemy .
Maybe the great Oz had gotten it all mixed up and turned everything upside down.
It makes a sort of sense.
Elphaba clearly wants nothing to do with her.
The way she reacts—cold, dismissive, shutting her out with every glance—maybe this wasn’t a romance written in the stars.
Maybe it’s something darker.
A bond not of love but of rivalry, of hatred.
Of loathing .
Galinda lets the thought linger, twisting in her mind like an unwelcome guest.
And it settles.
The tension between them shifts, sharpens.
What was once a strange curiosity grows into something ugly and harsh and full of resentment.
They argue.
They bicker.
They glare at each other across their shared room, their words clipped and cutting.
The distance between them stretches, but it only seems to fuel an unsettled feeling inside her chest.
As if her very soul was warring with her for treating her soulmate this way.
Because even as they fight, something stubborn inside Galinda refuses to let go of the hope.
She can’t believe that this—this is all they’re meant to be.
One evening, the room is quieter than usual. Elphaba sits in her chair, nose buried in a book, looking as unapproachable as ever.
Galinda speaks.
“You have to know,” she insists, her voice strained with frustration. “You have to see it. That we’re soulmates.”
Elphaba doesn’t even look up from her book, as she murmurs, “That’s ridiculous.”
*
It isn’t until that day—
Standing there in the Oz Dust Ballroom, watching Elphaba dancing alone—
That it finally hits her.
Galinda had been so sure that this must be soul-hate.
That the twisting, burning feeling in her chest was some cruel mistake of fate, some grand, cosmic mix-up.
But standing here now, feeling downright horrible with herself, she sees the truth.
It wasn’t soul-hate.
It was never soul-hate.
This is her soulmate .
Crying alone on a dance floor.
Because of her.
Elphaba stands apart from the rest, her movements stiff and hesitant, as though she is not quite sure what to do with herself in a space she was never meant to belong in.
The other students don’t seem to notice her sincerity, caught up in their own laughter, watching her swirling dance.
Galinda watches, and something inside her breaks.
She can’t let this happen.
She can’t let Elphaba be alone.
So she moves.
Her feet carry her forward before she even fully realizes what she’s doing.
The moment stretches out, long and fragile, as she reaches for Elphaba’s hand.
Their fingers brush, then clasp.
And something clicks.
A quiet, resounding yes that hums through Galinda’s entire being, settling deep in her bones.
Because this is it.
This is exactly how it felt in her dreams.
Every time she dreamed of her .
Of Elphaba
Elphaba stands there, looking at her like she is something unexpected and precious.
Their hands fits together like they were always meant to.
This is real.
This is where she is meant to be.
Beside Elphaba.
Beside her soulmate.
*
“You have to have felt it too,” It’s later, back in their dorm room, that Galinda finally asks. “Maybe not before, but if nothing else tonight , Elphaba, you have to have felt it.”
Elphaba, sitting on the edge of her bed, still in her dress from the ball, hesitates.
It’s brief—so brief that someone else might not notice—but Galinda does .
She sees the way Elphaba’s fingers still against the fabric of her skirt, the way her shoulders tighten, like she’s preparing for something inevitable.
“Feel what?” Elphaba says, but Galinda isn’t fooled.
She knows Elphaba knows.
“That we’re soulmates.”
Elphaba exhales sharply, the sound almost like a laugh but too bitter, too disbelieving. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
And maybe it’s all that she had to drink at the Oz Dust Ballroom, but Galinda feels bold suddenly.
The words tumble out, urgent and insistent. “Ever since I was a child, I dreamed about you. About a girl with green skin. And unless there’s another green girl in Oz—”
“There’s not,” Elphaba interrupts. “My life would be a lot easier if there were, but there’s not.”
“So then it has to be you,” Galinda insists. “The girl in my dreams, my soulmate .”
But Elphaba remains silent.
Long enough that Galinda feels nervous to ask, “Have you really never dreamed about me?”
She searches Elphaba’s face, looking for something— anything .
And then she sees it.
The flicker in Elphaba’s eyes, the way her lips press together just a little too tightly.
That softness.
That knowing.
Galinda doesn’t need to hear the answer to know it.
But when Elphaba speaks, her voice is quieter, more careful. “I do have those dreams.”
“Then why wouldn’t you say anything?”
Elphaba’s fingers curl into the fabric of her dress.
“I didn’t think you’d want a soulmate like me,” she admits, voice raw. “Wouldn’t it be better to just… never have one at all?”
“ Better!? ” Galinda repeats, utterly offended at the very idea. “You don’t get to decide what’s better for me, soulmate or not! I know what’s best for me, and what’s best for me is you. ”
Elphaba’s lips part in surprise, and then—slowly, like the first break of sunlight through storm clouds—she smiles.
And Galinda feels it.
The warmth, the light, the quiet, cautious joy spilling from Elphaba’s chest into her own.
That must be their soulmate bond.
Galinda hums in satisfaction.
Finally.
“And now that we’re soulmates, I’ve decided to make you my new project.”
Elphaba blinks. “Oh, you really don’t have to do that.”
“I know ,” Galinda says breezily. “That’s what makes me so nice .”