Disclaimer: I don't own Wicked, much as I really wish I did
Summary: Galinda thinks it would be a fine idea for Boq to ask Nessarose to the dance at the Ozdust, but what exactly is Boq thinking at the time?
That Tragically Beautiful Girl
"See that tragically beautiful girl?" Galinda asks him sweetly, waving a slim, pale hand in the general direction of Nessarose Thropp, sitting a few metres away in her wheelchair, "The one in the chair?"
Boq nods, surprise flickering across his face at the sudden change of subject. "Miss Nessarose?" he enquires.
Galinda nods. "It seems so unfair," she says musingly, sympathetically, "that we should go to this dance, and not she." She pauses, turning to look directly at Boq. "I know someone," she continues pointedly, "would be my hero if he were to ask her to the dance."
Miss Galinda's eyes are startlingly blue. They're like an ocean. They glimmer and sparkle in just the same way. He can't help gazing, awestruck, into those eyes. They're almost hypnotic...
But now Miss Galinda is tapping her satin-heeled foot impatiently, and those incredibly eyes are narrowed in what could – Oh, Oz, no! – be mild irritation.
"Oh," Boq says quickly in a too-loud voice, catching on, "well, maybe I could ask her?" And he can tell, from the beatific smile on her face, that he has said the right thing. It'll be worth it in the end, he tells himself as he wanders oh-so-casually up to Nessa, and besides, it would be nice to invite Nessa along, I guess... I don't suppose she gets out all that much...
"Miss Nessa," Boq says quietly, coming to a halt in front of her. With she in her chair, and he with his small stature, they are at eye-level with one another. It does, Boq has to admit, make a refreshing change from looking up at Miss Galinda.
Nessa, startled, snaps to attention. Her eyes, so unlike Galinda's, are hazel, their fey largeness giving a fragile appearance to her face. "Yes," she replies haughtily. She's not exactly approachable with that icy demeanour, Boq muses, maybe her chair isn't the only reason nobody ever really talks to her.
"I... I'd like to ask you..." how can he say it? "Would you like to come with me to the Ozdust Ballroom tonight?"
Nessa's eyes widen, and her lips part in an almost silent gasp of surprise. "That would be wonderful," she replies calmly, regaining her composure, "thank you, Boq." But her voice trembles on that last word – his name – and her eyes almost brim over with hope, or gratitude, or something like it.
"Er," he's quite taken aback. Who would have thought that Miss Nessarose would be so moved by his offer? "No problem. I'll pick you up around... seven?"
She nods, blinking and rearranging her face into its normal impassive aloofness. "You do know that I'm housed in Madame Morrible's quarters?" she asks him, a hint of warning in her voice. The corners of her mouth curve up in a small smile. Miss Nessa? Making a joke?
"Oh," a little knot of intimidation lodges itself in the pit of his stomach. There's something about Madame Morrible that makes Boq feel quite cold and discomfited, though he can't quite place what it is. "Right. Well, then, I'll see you later."
"I can't wait," Nessa gives him another rare smile.
What in Oz have I got myself into? He wonders in a sudden frenzy. "Oh! Me either," he forces himself to tell her, returning her smile before hurrying off in search of Miss Galinda.