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“Do you like it?” Elphaba asks, watching carefully to make sure Galinda is actually eating. She figured appealing to the girl’s sweet tooth would do the trick- Galinda nods happily and digs in for another bite.
“It’s great!” Galinda mumbles around a mouthful. She blushes at her own excitement, and Elphaba can’t stop the fond grin from spreading across her face.
Galinda only eats about half her slice, but she keeps pulling the pecans out from the center to eat, so Elphaba will take it as a win. Nuts are relatively healthy, right? Even coated in sugar?
“I’ve never tasted anything like this before,” Galinda says, licking her lips happily. She coughs lightly and clears her throat. “It’s tingly.”
Elphaba’s brow scrunches in confusion. “Tingly?” She’s eaten pecan pie for years and never once would she describe it as ‘tingly.’
Galinda coughs again, turning her head away to tuck her mouth into her elbow. She nods, waving her fork in the air as if trying to find the right words. “Yeah. It’s sorta…fizzy.”
What?
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Elphaba says, laughing lightly in mildly confused humor. Leave it to Galinda to totally stump her like that. The blonde had a habit of thinking so far outside the box, Elphaba barely even knew where she found the ideas.
Galinda rolls her eyes, clearing her throat again and setting her fork down. She slides the plate toward Elphaba. “You try and describe it then. Tingly is the best I’ve got.”
Elphaba dutifully picks up the fork and takes a bite. She’s had pecan pie several times before, of course, but maybe the cooks at Shiz made it differently or added a special ingredient. Some spices like cinnamon or such could… almost be described as ‘tingly’ if you weren’t used to them.
Galinda has to turn her head away to cough again, this time nearly doubling over from the effort. Elphaba frowns at her as she chews and swallows quickly. The pie tastes totally normal, but Galinda is starting to worry her.
“Wrong pipe?” Elphaba asks cautiously. Galinda opens her mouth to say something but gets caught in another round of coughs that turns her face red with effort. She groans lightly, rubbing at her throat.
“Sorry,” she croaks. “Yeah, probably just went down wrong.” She nods toward the pie on the plate in an effort to distract from the way she’s brushing tears from the corner of her eyes.
“What did it taste like to you?”
Elphaba shrugs, not really interested in the pie anymore. Galinda’s face is pale and there’s sweat starting to bead on her temple. She clears her throat again, and her next few breaths are slightly wheezy.
“It just tasted like nuts to me,” Elphaba says dismissively. “Are you okay?”
Galinda freezes, staring at her with wide eyes. “Nuts?” she asks.
“Um, yeah, the pecans. Seriously, Galinda, are you alright?”
Galinda takes in a few shaky gasps, hands starting to tremble as she rubs her throat again. She blinks several times in quick succession as her gaze falls to the pie. “Oh,” she whispers, swallowing hard.
“I think I’m allergic to nuts.”
The second that sentence finishes processing- Elphaba is leaping to her feet, adrenaline spiking.
“You— what? Galinda, are you sure? ”
“I don’t—” Galinda coughs again, sharper this time, and when she straightens up, her eyes are watery and unfocused. “I-I mean— I’ve never really had them. There was this one time as a child, apparently, but I thought my nannies were just being dramatic—”
“Sweet Oz.” Elphaba’s chair scrapes against the floor, her heart pounding in her ears. “Okay. Okay, okay. Just breathe. Maybe it’s a mild allergy. I’ll—I’ll get water. Do you want water?”
It’s uncommon to see Elphaba so panicked or flustered, but the thing is— Elphaba has seen allergies before. There was a Munchkin boy a few doors down growing up who was allergic to bees.
He’d died after getting stung. And- and Elphaba can’t— She can’t—
Galinda nods, or tries to. Her lips are parted like she’s trying to take in more air, but her breaths sound thin and wrong. Her throat bobs as she swallows again, and Elphaba watches with rising horror as her fingers flutter around her collarbone, scratching lightly.
“It feels- tight,” Galinda rasps. “Like I’m—”
She cuts off with another harsh, wheezing cough, and suddenly, Elphaba is running . She nearly crashes into the counter as she grabs a glass, filling it with trembling hands.
“Here, drink this. Slowly, just—”
Galinda tries. She really does. But the water dribbles out of the corner of her mouth, and her hands are shaking so badly that the glass slips and shatters on the floor between them.
Her eyes are wide in terror, her forehead beaded with sweat, and Elphaba can see her lips swelling by the second. Her neck strains with effort as she wheezes in painful, thin inhales.
“Okay. That’s okay.” Elphaba’s voice is too loud, too sharp. She kneels in the glass, not even noticing the sting in her knee. “Just- just keep breathing. Talk to me.”
“I c-can’t,” Galinda whimpers. Her voice is barely audible now, her cheeks flushed deep pink while her ears have gone pale. Her hand is pressed to her throat, where—
Oh Oz, are those hives?!
Elphaba’s never felt fear like this. Not during magic surges, not even during Nessa’s bouts of childhood sickness. This is worse. This is Galinda.
Panic clamps its claws around Elphaba’s ribs. “We need help. I’ll take you to the infirmary.”
Galinda shakes her head violently, hair sticking to her damp temples. “No- no, please, don’t—”
“What are you talking about? You can’t breathe, Galinda!”
You could be dying!
“Don’t let them see me like this. ” Galinda’s voice cracks on the last word. “Please.”
Elphaba stares at her. Her mouth opens, closes. “Wha— This isn’t about being seen! You might be—”
“I’m not dying!” Galinda snaps, except it comes out weak and breathy. She softens the second she sees Elphaba’s devastated expression, coughing as she reaches for her hand.
“I’m not dying, Elphie. It’s- it’s just a bad reaction. It’ll pass. Please. Don’t let anyone— please, Elphie. ”
You don’t know that, Elphaba thinks. She’s torn, the logical side of her fighting the emotional side, the one too easily swayed by the sight of those large, wet eyes, boring into her with desperation.
Elphaba swallows hard. Her fists curl uselessly at her sides.
“…Alright. I won’t.”
She kneels, steadying Galinda’s shoulders as another cough wracks her body. “Can- can we just go back to the dorm?” the blonde rasps out. Her voice is getting worse the more her throat swells and reddens.
What if she really can’t breathe? What if she passes out? What if by taking her back I’m dooming her?!!
Elphaba tries to think rationally past the panic. If Galinda can walk and talk, it’s probably not a deadly case. She’s- she’s heard of people with mild allergies before. Like that time Elphaba got in poison ivy as a kid. It was annoying and itchy, but not fatal.
“Come on. Let’s get back to the dorm.”
Elphaba stands on autopilot, gathering their bags and wrapping her arm around the shorter girl’s shoulder to help her up. Galinda’s weight is alarmingly slight against her side, her breathing shallow and unsteady. The halls of Crage Hall blur as they move.
“We’re almost there,” Elphaba murmurs, her voice tighter than she means it to be. “Just a few more steps. Can you walk?”
Galinda nods mutely but stumbles again. Elphaba tightens her grip, fingers clenching in expensive fabric. “I’m so sorry, Galinda,” Elphaba whispers. The younger girl tries valiantly to shake her head firmly.
“Not— Y-your fault.”
But that doesn’t stop the swirling guilt from sucking at Elphaba’s gut, making her feel sick and scared as they struggle up the staircase and down the hall. Elphaba kicks the door to their room open clumsily, carrying most of Galinda’s weight by now as she sucks in air in wheezy gasps. Elphaba sets her down by her bed, where she all but collapses onto the mattress.
Elphaba kneels in front of her. “Do you feel dizzy?”
Galinda nods.
“Throat still tight?”
Another nod. Her face has gone blotchy— red around her cheeks and chin, but pale near her lips. There’s a sheen of sweat on her forehead, and her breathing is audibly labored now. Worse, her hands are shaking so badly she can’t get her jacket off.
“Here,” Elphaba says, reaching to help. She undoes the buttons carefully, fingers brushing against Galinda’s chest- and stops.
The skin above her collarbone is blotched with angry red welts. Hives.
“Oh Oz,” Elphaba whispers. That looks much worse than before.
Galinda’s gaze darts down to see what Elphaba is looking at, eyes wide and wet as she fights the panic rising in her. She looks flushed and cold at the same time, and the creases by her eyes tighten as she squeezes them shut, curling into herself.
“It’s okay,” Elphaba says shakily, but she truly doesn’t know. This doesn’t look like a mild reaction to her. She knew she should’ve gotten the nurse!
The good news is that, even though her inhales are raspy and weak, Galinda is getting air. Her panicking is probably doing more than the actual swelling, which seems to have mostly been around her lips and isn’t fully restricting her airway. Small mercies.
The bad news is that Galinda’s system clearly doesn’t like the pecans very much. The blonde mentions her stomach hurting as Elphaba starts to help her change into more comfortable, lighter clothes, cognizant of the perspiration building on her forehead and the back of her neck. She pulls Galinda’s hair back and braids it quickly, getting it out of the way just in time for the other girl to suddenly double over.
Galinda presses a hand to her stomach, her expression twisting. “I— E-Elp— I’m gonna—”
Elphaba is already up and grabbing the waste bin. She shoves it into Galinda’s lap just in time. It’s- well. ‘Violent’ is the best word Elphaba has for it, cringing at the force of each heave. She crouches beside Galinda, one hand on her back, rubbing small, steady circles.
“It’s okay,” she murmurs. “Just let it out. You’re alright. I’ve got you.”
It takes a while, rippling aftershocks making Galinda gag long after she’s run out of anything to expel. She’s sobbing, salty tears falling off her chin. Broken blood vessels spot her cheeks. When it’s finally over, Galinda slumps forward, hair clinging to her face, too exhausted to sit up straight.
Elphaba gently takes the bin away, empties it in the bathroom, and rinses it out quickly. She’s lucky she’s not squeamish, having taken care of Nessarose more than once over the years. Her mind is too busy being worried about Galinda to care about the smell or mess.
When she comes back out with a glass of fresh water, Galinda hasn’t moved except to slide off the edge of the mattress and onto the floor, where she sits, shivering and miserable. Elphaba hopes getting the food out of her system means they’re on the other side now. She’s still blotchy, itchy with hives, and swollen around her mouth and eyes now.
But her breathing sounds…a little better.
“Here,” Elphaba says softly, kneeling to give Galinda the glass. She has to help Galinda lift it to her lips to rinse her mouth out, spitting into the cleaned-out bin before finally taking a few gulps. Elphaba’s heart squeezes like a vice, the guilt seeping through her system.
“Do you want to lay down?”
Galinda shakes her head, looking up, her gaze exhausted and distant. “Sticky,” she croaks out. “F-feel gross.”
“We can wash your sheets tomorrow,” Elphaba urges. She really wants Galinda to rest. She knows Galinda is usually a stickler about not getting her bed dirty with “outside germs” but now isn’t the time to be thinking about such things.
Galinda won’t budge, though. She shakes her head again, watery eyes pleading with Elphaba. “Please, Elphie,” she begs. She flicks her gaze over to the bathroom door and back again, and Elphaba gets the message.
She sighs, torn. Galinda’s limbs are trembling, too weak to hold her up. Her makeup is streaked and clumped across her face, and she looks awful — not that Elphaba would ever risk saying such out loud. The worst does seem to have passed, but Elphaba doesn’t think Galinda could bathe safely on her own at the moment.
“I-I’ll have to help you,” she hedges, but Galinda’s expression doesn’t change. She just nods again, reaching out so Elphaba can help her off the floor. She almost falls back down again, so Elphaba shifts, sliding her arm under Galinda’s knees and lifting her up.
The blonde’s head tips down to rest against Elphaba’s collarbone, breaths coming in short pants across the bare skin of Elphaba’s upper chest. It tickles, warm and shaky as she carries Galinda across the room and sets her down gently by the toilet. She strips down to her underthings, hesitating only briefly.
She’s…never shown this much skin to anyone outside her family before. When she and Galinda change, they do it in private, even though they’re both girls. Elphaba prefers to cover as much of her green skin as possible, and while Galinda has helped her embrace outfits that aren’t total coverage, she still isn’t super comfortable flaunting a lot of skin.
Of course, the circumstances now are a little unique. And she knows even if Galinda were in a position to be paying attention, she wouldn’t have anything mean to say. So Elphaba shucks her uniform off, tossing it in the corner before she gently helps Galinda, who is struggling to even get her arms up enough to take her shirt off.
“S-s-sorry,” Galinda stammers, wrapping her arms around herself. The redness has spread all down her chest, disappearing under the edge of her bra. Her ribs show starkly with each inhale, little strands of golden hair curling around her ears.
Elphaba shakes her head. “Don’t be,” she says firmly. “It’s my fault, anyway.”
Galinda seems about to protest that, but gives up as she coughs harshly, rubbing at her throat. Her nails scratch over the hives before Elphaba reaches out and pulls them away. “You’ll make it worse,” she warns, even though she knows it must feel awful. Galinda whines low in her throat, but shifts to keep her hands from scratching again.
Silence lingers as they wait for the tub to fill, the growing steam fogging up the room. Elphaba undoes Galinda’s braid and pulls her own hair into a bun, wincing with each ragged breath or wet cough that rattles through Galinda’s thin frame. More than once she has to brace the girl to keep her from toppling over, her coughing leaving her even more breathless and red than before.
“Is it getting any better?” Elphaba asks, unsure at what point it would be best to just give up and get the nurse anyway. She moves around to the front of Galinda, kneeling before her.
Galinda nods, slumping forward so their foreheads touch, her eyes slipping closed. “L-lesss, tight,” she whispers. “But more it-itchy.” Elphaba breathes out a faint sigh of relief. The swelling must be going down and the adrenaline of the moment is wearing off- making the smaller symptoms more apparent.
That’s a good sign, right?
She knows Galinda must still feel miserable though, especially when she’s starts whining and trying to push at her bra straps. The edge of her bra is digging into the redness spreading over her chest, and Elphaba wavers for a moment, teeth biting into her bottom lip, before finally giving in and helping Galinda shed the rest of her underthings.
Elphaba has bathed with Nessa plenty of times before. This doesn’t have to be awkward— they’re both girls, and Galinda needs the help. Elphaba was going to have to help her change at some point anyway. Galinda would never stand being in a wet bra for long.
The water is barely warm by the time Elphaba stands up and helps Galinda clamber over the edge of the tub, but Galinda doesn’t complain. She slumps down in the water, bracing herself against the porcelain sides as her mouth parts around a long, slow exhale. Already, she seems more relaxed.
Elphaba quickly climbs in, too, grabbing a washcloth and kneeling behind Galinda. “Just a quick rinse,” she murmurs. “Let me know if you feel sick again.”
Galinda nods, eyes drifting shut as she tilts her head down, water lapping at her sides, her bony knees sticking above the surface. Elphaba dips the cloth in the water, wrings it out, and starts at the girl’s shoulders.
She tells herself to be clinical. Efficient. But her hands move slowly—so slowly—as if they’re afraid they’ll break something if they press too hard. She slides the cloth across Galinda’s collarbone, down her arms, over the curved ridges of her spine. Her skin is hot around the hives, twitching with each stroke.
Elphaba doesn’t mean to stare. But she can’t help it.
Galinda is bare down to the waist, her chest half-submerged in water, her pale skin slick and glowing under the fluorescent lights. Far from the perfect, poised, polished individual she usually presents to the world, she looks more human than ever. More real. Small and flawed and utterly, achingly lovely.
“Sorry,” Galinda mumbles, startling her. “I must look awful.”
Elphaba swallows. “You look— fine.”
Galinda peeks one eye open, catching her expression. “You’re a bad liar.”
A beat passes. Elphaba hesitates, then admits, quietly, “You look beautiful, Galinda. You always look beautiful.”
Galinda’s lips part slightly, surprise flickering across her face- but she doesn’t look away. Water licks and sways between them. Elphaba can hardly look away from Galinda’s wide brown eyes when they stare at her like this, endless depths of chocolate and stars.
Elphaba dunks the cloth again, trying to collect herself. “Just, um, tell me if anything hurts,” she mutters.
She works quickly, rinsing the sweat off before starting on Galinda’s hair, working her pink shampoo into a rich lather. The heady scent of roses fills the air, the steam loosening something in Elphaba’s chest. She still feels beyond guilty- but at least she knows Galinda isn’t in true danger.
“It’s not your fault,” Galinda speaks up suddenly. She looks behind her again, though this time Elphaba avoids meeting her eyes. “It’s not, Elphie. You couldn’t have known. If anything, I was the stupid one.”
“What? You’re not—”
“Yes, I am.” Galinda sighs, coughing lightly. “Too dumb to even realize pecans were nuts.”
“That’s— Don’t say that. You don’t grow pecans in Gillikin; it’s not your fault you didn’t know.”
“Well then, it’s not yours either.”
Elphaba goes to protest again, that murky sludge in her gut saying otherwise, but she stops when she realizes it’s a lost cause. Galinda isn’t going to budge, brown eyes steely when she glares at Elphaba over her shoulder. The older girl is forced to concede with a nod, even if she still feels like she’s doing something wrong.
For a few moments earlier, she’d really thought— She was scared that—
She shakes her head, refocusing on the task at hand. Galinda’s going to be fine.
The room is warm with steam, but Elphaba feels cold, suddenly, all over again. Her hands tremble as she rinses the shampoo from Galinda’s long hair. Her fingers trail lightly over the bathwater’s surface, circling Galinda’s hand beneath it until their fingers touch.
“You scared me,” Elphaba admits.
“I-I think I scared myself,” Galinda murmurs. She leans back, falling into Elphaba who is forced to scoot forward, letting Galinda settle against her chest, feeling the bumps of her spine and the now-steadier inhales and exhales as she breathes.
After a brief spike in her own heart rate, Elphaba settles, getting more comfortable, letting herself sink down and enjoy the warm water, Galinda a ball of heat gathered in her arms, smooth skin sliding against smooth skin as they both relax and shed the last of the fear and worry. Occasionally, a small cough still rattles through Galinda, or Elphaba has to knock an itching hand away from the hives.
But it’s…nice. In a way. A gentle sort of intimacy that Elphaba has never experienced before. Galinda sighs, eyes shut, head bobbing, trusting Elphaba to hold her up completely. A new heat blooms in Elphaba’s chest, battling the dark ink of her lingering guilt.
She doesn’t know what she did to deserve Galinda’s trust, but she’s determined never to break it. She loops her arms around the blonde, sparks of warmth running through her veins, her magic stirring and making her duck her head lest Galinda look back and see her darkened cheeks.
“How are you feeling?” she checks, nose nearly buried in damp blonde locks.
Galinda hums, hands playing gently through the water. “Better now,” she breathes. Her next sigh is deep and content, not catching or rasping like earlier.
They stay like that for a long moment. Just skin against skin, water lapping at the edges of the tub, hearts slowing.
Galinda reaches for Elphaba’s hand under the water. Finds it. Holds it.
“I’m glad it was you,” she confesses. “If I had to go through that with anyone…I’m glad it was you.”
Elphaba leans her forehead against the back of Galinda’s shoulder, dizzy with tenderness. “I don’t know what I’d do if something happened to you.”
Galinda squeezes her hand.
“I’m not going anywhere.” She swallows audibly. “I— I would never leave you behind.”
There’s something about those words, about the way she says that, like they have significantly more weight than they appear on the surface. It makes something thick and heavy lodge in Elphaba’s throat, a knot of emotion she is too tired to untangle.
“I would never leave you behind either,” she finally whispers. Galinda doesn’t say anything in response, just hums and sinks even further into the water.
By the time Elphaba helps Galinda out of the bath, the steam has clung to every surface and the water is growing cold. The mirror is fogged over. The tile is slick beneath their feet. Galinda leans against Elphaba’s shoulder as she’s helped from the tub, limbs still heavy and uncooperative. She shivers the moment the cool air hits her damp skin.
Elphaba catches her around the waist when she sways unsteadily, blinking like she just got a head rush. “I’ve got you,” Elphaba murmurs.
Galinda sags into her gratefully, her body loose and damp, the sweaty sheen of earlier replaced by sheer exhaustion. It’s more stark under the harsh bathroom lights, highlighting the depths of her eye bags and the slice of her collarbones.
“Sorry,” Galinda mutters as Elphaba wraps a towel around her. Elphaba’s starting to really hate hearing that word coming from Galinda’s mouth. “I’m being— I don’t mean to be a burden.”
“You’re not a burden, Galinda,” Elphaba replies. “Ever. You’re allowed to ask for help. And— and I want to give it.”
Please. Let me.
“I just hate feeling so…” Galinda trails off, her lip curling. She doesn’t finish her reply.
Elphaba dries Galinda with careful, clinical efficiency- but her fingers linger longer than they should. Not out of impropriety, never that. Only…only to confirm she’s really here. Warm. Alive. No longer gasping or trembling or looking at her with unfocused panic. The weight of Galinda’s narrow shoulders beneath her towel is one of the most reassuring things Elphaba has ever held.
After they’re both dry and Galinda has stopped shivering, Elphaba lowers her gently to sit on the toilet lid.
“I should have something that might help with the itching,” she says as she rifles through the drawer beside the sink. “Dulcibear gave it to me ages ago. I’m glad I asked for it to be sent with the rest of my things.”
She finds the tin and unscrews the lid. Inside is a thick, greenish balm with the consistency of honey left too long in the sun. It smells faintly of mint and rosemary.
Galinda squints at it, suspicious. “That looks like pond slime.”
“It works, ” Elphaba says, scooping some up. Her lips twitch, happy to hear Galinda sounding more like herself.
She stands in front of Galinda, legs spread a little so she isn’t having to crouch, and Galinda watches with heavy-lidded curiosity as Elphaba smooths the ointment over the reddened patches of skin. The hives have begun to fade from angry scarlet to a more subdued pink, but they still raise the skin in scattered welts across her arms and chest.
The ointment glistens where it’s spread, catching the light. Galinda wrinkles her nose.
“Ugh. It feels like pond slime.”
“You’re very brave,” Elphaba deadpans.
Galinda lets out a weak giggle that makes Elphaba’s heart soar. “It does help, though.”
When Elphaba finishes, she wipes her fingers and helps Galinda into a pale pink nightgown, threading her arms through the sleeves, pulling the fabric down with utmost care. Galinda is pliant in her hands, pliant and trusting, her face soft with fatigue and something else Elphaba doesn’t dare name.
The sight of Galinda slumped in her sleep clothes, hair damp and eyes drowsy, hits Elphaba in the chest like a blow. She helps her up again, one arm wrapped tightly around her waist as they shuffle back to Galinda’s bed. Galinda sinks gratefully into it, eyes already fluttering.
But before Elphaba can retreat to her own bed, a hand catches her wrist.
“Stay?” Galinda asks.
Elphaba pauses. “You sure?”
Galinda nods, eyes huge and dark. “I still feel…floaty. And I— I don’t want to be alone.”
The words gut her. Elphaba swallows and nods.
She changes into her own nightclothes—plain cotton, patched at the elbows—then slips in beside Galinda, grabbing the blankets to tuck around them. Galinda immediately shifts, curling toward her, her head finding the space beneath Elphaba’s chin.
“My skin still itches,” she mutters after a moment. “And I’m getting my nightgown dirty.”
“It can be cleaned.”
“It’s silk.”
Elphaba chuckles softly, chest rumbling under Galinda’s ear.
“Don’t scratch,” Elphaba says, even as Galinda shifts miserably. “You’ll make it worse.”
Silence. Then:
“…that was the worst pie I’ve ever had.”
Elphaba lets out a laugh, feeling the last of her fear fall away. “You said you liked the taste.”
“I was being nice.” Galinda bumps her forehead gently against Elphaba’s chest. “Next time, bring cake.”
The room is fairly dark now, evening shadows stretching across the floorboards. Galinda’s breath brushes against Elphaba’s collarbone— steady and slow. Her skin is warm but no longer flaming hot. The hives have dulled to pale pinks. The swelling has eased. The danger, for now, is over.
Elphaba lets her eyes drift closed. Galinda shifts again, curling tighter, and Elphaba wraps both arms around her. She presses her nose to the top of Galinda’s head, damp and floral from the bath. She breathes her in.
Galinda is going to be fine. The fear has faded. But in its place is something softer, deeper. The adrenaline and panic have been replaced by emotions and thoughts that Elphaba isn’t sure she’s ready to face. Ready to feel.
The guilt that still simmers low in her belly. The way her heart cracked open when Galinda started gasping for air. The desperation, the unbearable realization that she cannot— will not —live in a world without this girl in it.
She feels it all now.
“Thank you,” Galinda whispers suddenly, almost asleep. Her fingers find Elphaba’s under the blankets and give them a tired little squeeze.
Elphaba doesn’t answer at first. She presses a kiss to Galinda’s temple, tentatively, afraid of pushing the moment too far.
“You don’t have to thank me,” she says, voice thick. “I- I didn’t really do much.”
Galinda’s eyes flutter open, frowning. “You stayed,” she says, like it’s as simple as that. “And— you helped me.” A wry grin crosses Galinda’s face. “I’d almost forgotten what that feels like.”
She says it so softly, like maybe it wasn’t meant to be heard, but it makes Elphaba’s ribs squeeze too tightly all the same. Elphaba exhales, forcing her chest to loosen, and curls her arms tighter around Galinda. “Always,” she whispers. “I’ll always help you.”
Galinda’s eyes shimmer, reflecting pink and golden sparks that make it impossible to tell what she’s really feeling. A strange expression flits across her face before she tucks herself back down under Elphaba’s chin, sighing. “Me too,” she says, with all the weight of a promise.
Galinda drifts off first, one hand fisted in the fabric of Elphaba’s pajamas. Elphaba stays awake a while longer, listening to the girl’s quiet breaths, fingers tangled with Galinda’s other hand beneath the blankets. There’s a word, a feeling, a phrase with three syllables tumbling around in her head, but she knows it isn’t the right time to say it. Doesn’t know if it ever will be.
By the time sleep finally finds her, Elphaba has almost convinced herself that this, right here, is enough.