No idea what made this pop into my head. Fiyeraba, but it refernces past... non-Fiyeraba, including prostitution. I was aiming for this to POSSIBLY hint at past Gelphie, and you could read this as a sequal to my oneshot Fear. If you prefer to not see the past Gelphie, I wrote it so you could... not see it. That being said, this is mainly Fiyeraba.
She neatly made the bed, fluffing the pillow absentmindely. Why did she bother? She didn't mind a flat pillow. The bed had been made in a rush that morning- but why did it matter if it was messy? She picked the cat's food dish up, placing it in the sink. She cleaned it without letting the water touch her skin. She tidied up a stack of books beside the bed that functioned not only as reading material but as a bedside table.
She stood in the middle of the room, making sure it was imaculate. She felt pathetic. He wouldn't come, anyway. No one ever stuck around. No one really cared about her. She was easily lost in the shuffle, avoided like a plauge. No one really cared for her, no one loved her. She was more a thing than a person, much less a woman.
But she still hurt like a woman, had the longings that went along with it. She thought she had buried her feelings well. She hadn't even entertained the idea of love since Shiz. There had been sex when it was neccesary for her survival, when it was the only thing she could do to keep herself fed. But this was different. It wasn't cold. He wasn't in it just for himself. He had made sure she felt good as well.
But he wouldn't come back. No one ever came back for her. No one really cared about her, much less the people she cared for. It was the way it had always been. She shouldn't hold him to any higher standard just because she could see herself falling in love with him.
She was afraid to. Glinda had always said she thought she was never afraid. Elphaba was afraid of alot of things. Falling uncontrollably in love. Wanting someone so badly it hurt. Feeling incomplete without someone. Needing someone. All those things terrified her. She much preferred familiar emotions like betrayal, rejection, and jealousy. Love was something new altogether.
And as she sat on the wooden crate, staring at the doorknob, hopping it would turn, it did. He pushed it open, smiling shyly. "I didn't know if you wanted me to knock, or..." He verged on apologetic, standing awkwardly in the doorway.
"You're always welcome," she heard her voice say, as sweetly as she could say anything. Still, there was a darkness. "Unless I specifically ask you not to come, anyway. But then you mustn't- it's too dangerous."
She crossed the room and he opened his arms to her. "I can take care of myself, Elphaba. I'm a grown man, I've got children."
"You don't even know what you're up against," she insisted as she led him closer to the bed, into the shadows. The day had been clear and the skylight let in too much of the fading sunlight for her to be comfortable.
"I would know what I was-" he cut himself off so he could kiss her, "Up against if you would tell me."
"And you could never know that." She pressed herself tighter against him, pulling the thoughts of Resistance out of his head. He quickly obliged, helping her out of her clothes. He didn't complain or question when she gently moved his hands back above her waist. Some things... some things she was not ready to feel.
Later, as he laid his head against the pillow she had fluffed for him and she laid her head against his smooth shoulder, she listened to his breathing slow and grow steady. The room was no longer stark and immaculate. Clothes littered the floor, the stack of books had been knocked over. The bed most certaintly was no longer neatly made. The fading light of sunset had given way to softer moonlight. As she felt herself drift off, she smiled and thought to herself, He came back.