I don't own Wicked.
One-shot. Musical verse. I pictured this with Idina and Cheno as the two roommates, but it doesn't really matter. Enjoy.
Aftermath of a Flower
The wind stung her cheeks as she bolted out the door of Crage Hall. Elphaba had to get away. Away from Galinda and her glamour treatments. She played the scene over and over in her mind as she ran towards the woods as quickly as her combat boots would allow, tripping several times and regaining her balance only by the luck of the thickening amount of trees available to latch onto.
Elphaba had tolerated the ridiculous makeover attempts of the blonde, with relative ease. The whole situation had been a comical annoyance and a waste of her time, but it was harmless. It was just Galinda's twisted way of displaying her intention of friendship with her…or at least, tolerance. She rolled her eyes throughout and let Galinda flit about the room, all the while submitting to her ministrations and lectures about boys, popularity, ball gowns, and hair flippage.
But the last moment had been unbearable.
Muttering something about the 'finishing touch', Galinda led Elphaba to the bed and plucked out the pink flower that was nestled in her golden locks. Before Elphaba could protest, the blossom was pinned awkwardly to the side of her head and her dark hair was draped ceremoniously over her shoulders.
No, this wasn't right. She furrowed her eyebrows. She wasn't meant for accessories, pink, flowers…beauty.
"Yep, pink goes good with green," the blonde chirped. Elphaba sighed and shook her head in disapproval, her lips slightly parted in disgust. She nervously twisted her spindly fingers together as her hands lay neatly in her lap. The pink growth in her hair continued silently mocking her and she felt the blood quickly rush to her flushed cheeks, staining them a deep green. She felt naked, exposed. She hung her head, closing her eyes in shame and humiliation.
Galinda seemed clueless. "Why Miss Elphaba, look at you. You're beautiful." Elphaba grimaced at the last word. What a joke. Impossible. Her labored breathing matched her quivering heart, and a lump rose into her throat as a glittering hand-mirror was thrust in front of her. She looked into her roommate's eyes, pleading for Galinda to spare her the ridiculous sight she was sure to find when she looked at her reflection. But the blonde would not relent, she was far too giddy at the prospect of her new creation. Elphaba reluctantly took the mirror.
What she saw did indeed surprise her. She cackled and threw a smile towards Galinda before returning to the sight in the mirror. Her eyes sparkled without the barrier of her glasses. Black hair flowed in rivulets over her bare shoulders, a waterfall of ebony tresses that seemed to have a soft bluish glow in the light. The flower wasn't so much a tacky thing, but a beautiful— No.
"I have to go…" Elphaba stammered, her voice wavering. She shoved the mirror back into the blonde's hands and rushed out as her heavy boots clomped against the floor in announcement of her sudden exit. She felt terrible for abandoning the dumbstruck Galinda. She was only trying to help. But it was all too much for Elphaba. She would not allow herself to feel attractive; she didn't deserve to. She was an abomination dumped upon the world, and it was best to accept it. False hope would merely lift her spirits, and the rejection that would inevitably follow would be an unbearable crush to her heart.
And so, Elphaba—the self-proclaimed ugly, repulsive, freakish green girl—continued her getaway into the woods where she could rest alone. In her solitude, she could convince herself that she was not meant to be a thing of beauty. She could accept herself for the repulsion she truly was.
And she did accept it.
But she left the pink flower in her hair.