Oh, dear, another Wicked fanfiction!
This is technically a songfic, so apologize if I'm breaking any rules. It's supposed to be Elphaba literally saying the words, though, so.. I dunno. It's just her thoughts during I'm Not that Girl. I hope you enjoy. :) I don't, in any case, own Wicked or this song.
Elphaba closed her eyes tightly. Something had gone terribly wrong there, and she wasn't even sure what.
She looked down at her hands. They were tingling.
"Hands touch," she whispered. "Eyes meet."
What had just happened? Why was she feeling like this.. like she felt something, anything at all, for Fiyero? Prior to this.. she had just thought he was a stupid rich boy who was taken by Galinda. But somehow, right now, she felt – she didn't even know what she felt.
"Sudden silence..sudden heat."
She began walking in slow circles, murmuring to herself – trying to comfort herself, almost, but she didn't know what she was comforting herself about.
"Hearts leap in a gidddyy whirl.." She paused. "He could be that boy," she whispered, staring up the stairs that he'd run. "But I'm..not that girl."
The realization struck her suddenly. She liked Fiyero – she liked him like she'd never liked anyone before. She sighed and pulled a hand through her hair. She was so stupid. For a moment – just a moment, she'd thought that he might even like her back.
"Don't dream, too far," she told herself, "don't lose sight of..who you are."
She was Elphaba. She was the crazy, ambitious, outcast of a green person. She was green. And no amount of love would change that – who she was.
But with a pang she recounted how it felt to be alone with Fiyero, looking into his eyes, caring for the same thing – she shook her head. "Don't remember – that rush of joy." He wasn't her's. "He could be that boy – but I'm not that girl!"
She'd been dreaming out loud. She'd been hoping for something that could never, ever be. And that wonderful moment alone with him had tricked her into thinking perhaps her foolish fantasy might be something to go. "Every so often we long to steal," she whispered, "to the land of what might have been. But that doesn't soften the ache we feel.." She closed her eyes and saw Galinda. "When reality sets back in.."
He was out of bounds – off limits, completely unavailable. Even if she wasn't green as a tree, even if she wasn't stupid and loud and completely unlikable, even if there was a mere hint of hope that Fiyero would like anyone, ever, remotely like her – it didn't matter. Because he had chosen someone else anyway.
Tears rolled out of her eyes. "Blithe smile," she whispered, "lithe limb.. she who's winsome – she wins him." She raised her hands to her eyes and wiped her tears, but it didn't help. "Gold hair with a gentle curl.." She drew in a sharp breath. "That's the girl he chose," she murmured.
She was green – green – ivory, dark green, the color of moss in the spring – she was green as the envy that she was burning with right now. She was green – green, green, green!
"And heaven knows..I'm not that girl."
She wasn't. She took a deep breath and tried valiantly to stop crying. What would crying do? It wouldn't stop her being green. It wouldn't make Galinda suddenly completely unattractive. It wouldn't make Fiyero love her.
Her heart dropped a little at the last thought, but she was firm with herself. Nothing would make Fiyero love her.
She gathered herself and took a deep breath. She was okay.
As she thought that, she suddenly heard giggling and pattering feet. She rushed into the dark of the shadows and watched as Fiyero and Galinda ran, arm in arm – together, completely entwined – across the bridge. So in love..
"Don't wish," she pleaded of herself, tears rolling down her face again. "Don't start..wishing only.." She sighed, a long, lingering, wistful sigh. "Wishing only wounds the heart.."
It was pointless to wish, to hope, to want.
"There's a girl I know.." she swallowed, making no effort anymore to stem her tears. "He loves her..so. I'm not..that..girl.."
Rain fell, masking her tears, and she wished it would never stop.