Schoolgirls fall in love with other schoolgirls all of the time. Elphaba curses herself for allowing it to be the girliest schoolgirl of the whole lot.
A hour from midnight approaches. Galinda seems pleasantly drunk from the bottle of cherry sweetwine Boq gifted them. Well, he gifted it to Galinda, and Elphaba stole a few, quick sips when nobody was paying any mind to her.
Galinda's fluffed, rose-pink skirts and all its tulle rustles as she flops on Elphaba's bed. They're supposed to be studying, but it's difficult to concentrate with fingernails gently tracing her arm.
You know," Galinda's voice drifts in, no longer trilling or nauseatingly honeyed, "I think black really is your color." Elphaba shuts her eyes after pretending to read, tilting her head towards Galinda's affectionate touch, as the other girl strokes and gathers up long, dark strands. "It's so stern, and mysterious, and a tad frightening—"
At the sudden, bemused look, Galinda's already flushed cheeks redden. She eeps. "BUT—it also is adaptable! It goes well with just about anything!"
Oh goodness be…
Elphaba doesn't say anything at first, witnessing Galinda mumble and become more flustered, frustrated with herself and her verbal slip-up.
She kindly takes Galinda's trembling fingers out of her hair, wrapping them into hers securely.
"Pink suits you, Glinda," she announces in a low, reassuring whisper. "It's a color that brings out… the fun in life and people around it, and the beauty, and radiance."
Half of her doesn't truly believe that, but she does for Galinda's character.
"It's special," Elphaba adds, feigning considerate importance, pulling away a gold-blonde curl from the corner of Galinda's rosy, opening mouth, tucking it carefully over her ear. "You're special."
Their ornate, antique clock gives a tick, closer and closer to the witching hour. Moisture builds in Galinda's widened and pretty blue eyes.
A huge, cheerful smile plasters onto her expression. "Well, of course I am!" Galinda announces with unconvincing delight, swallowing back her tears.
Elphaba's lips quirk up.
She glances down at her textbook in her lap, before pausing and slowly having her chin lifted, gripped firmly by the cradle of Galinda's fingers.
"… So are you, Elphie," Galinda insists, smiling a little less but more heartfelt.
Wicked is not mine. AAAAHH. MY HEART STILL BELONGS TO THESE GIRLS. Any thoughts/comments are so so so so appreciated! :)