A/N: So, this is just a random drabble that I wrote while I was listening to "The Dance" sun by Megan Hilty, with music written by Scott Alan. It was so beautiful, I had to write something. I guess it's a songfic, since I used the lyrics.
DISCLAIMER: Wicked is like a giant fudge brownie sitting on top of the fridge that I just can't reach. I don't own it and never will. Scott Alan's beautiful music is his own too. _. Stupid geniuses.
OZOZOZOZOZ
THE DANCE
So it was three-fifteen in the morning. And we were dancing. Why? I couldn't say, and I didn't need to. We didn't need a reason. We were just dancing. The world around us grew frozen as I felt her skin caress mine gently, in such a way that was far beyond inappropriate for friends and roommates. But it felt good, to be dancing.
Time passed us by, and we simply danced until morning. I, her princess. And she was my king. The music, though were was none, was our serenade. We danced to the silence of the night. The crackle of the fire, the crickets outside, the shuffle of our feet atop the carpet as she twirled me endlessly. I loved being so close to her. So we kept on dancing.
Elphaba had never been one to hold me when I was scared, and she never cared for kisses. She never said she loved me. It was nearly impossible to be with her. Every day I grew more frustrated with her, as she lacked the ability to provide me with what I needed. Yet, here she was. Dancing with me. And I was dancing. And for the moment - just the moment, she held me. And we danced until morning. And somehow, it felt like we had been there before. The lights built around the sun as day broke, but the music was as sweet as the night. As the moon traded with the sun, we stayed dancing.
Stronger and deeper, the music grew. Though we knew in a moment, the dance would end with the sun. But the music was our serenade. I knew at any moment, this would all be over, so I held on to what could have been. As I clung, her arms around me tightened. My heart pounded against my chest with the passion of our movements as we tried to make every last moment count. We could have danced until the last morning came.
But the song was over. Our dance had ended. The night that had held so much passion, such unbridled need, was morning. As we parted, I looked into her smoldering chocolate eyes. And she said she loved me. She didn't say it aloud… but she didn't have to. In that moment, I knew that she loved me just as much as I loved her – my reserved, and stoic Elphie.