Elphaba the Delirious
That's what she called me. We had never spoken before. I had wanted to speak to her for a long time, but she made it clear by her silences that she wanted nothing to do with me, so why bother? I felt like a fool, so besotted with somebody who obviously didn't like me. She was a society lady, with frippy dresses and society airs. She wanted to climb the social ladder, and I would be a deadweight. Even with my inherited title (one that I wanted nothing to do with), I would just pull her down. Knowing this just made me want her more.
The fact that she only spoke to me after some silly spat with her society friends should have disgusted me, made me turn away. But the first word that came out of her mouth to me -to me!- sent my heart fluttering in my throat. I babbled horribly, and could tell that I was boring her. But I needed so desperately for to think, to prove that there was more than hot air between her earrings. I hoped thought would make her see beyond my greeny skin and become a friend, maybe more. I knew that she would stab me in the back. But I hoped. So when I heard her betray me to her friends, it shouldn't have hurt. But the sting was real. I should have hated her, but she seemed more mysterious, more desirable. I wasn't used to caring about people like this, and I hated it. But I loved it. Unbearable, but unbearable to be without. Agonizing bliss.