It was eight o'clock before Fiyero tucked his letter under Elphaba's door. He was confident that she would find it; she had spent uncountable hours in her room over the last week. Surely she was there, or would be there soon.
Fiyero was mildly alarmed when he didn't see Nessa at breakfast—he usually did—but decided she must have had an early exam; he hated early exams and generally skipped anything before noon. Today, though, he had an important meeting at noon. Elphaba. Elphaba. Elphaba, his heart sang. He wondered if she would let him kiss her again. Their kiss had been brief, chaste, but very sweet. Fiyero wanted more.
--
Galinda stepped out of the shower at precisely eight o'clock. She had a long day ahead of her: she had to pack. It was a daunting task, and she wholeheartedly wished Elphaba were there to comment and laugh and tease. Elphaba would make the time go faster.
It was nine o'clock before Galinda found the letter shoved under her door. She grinned and flipped it over—only to see familiar handwriting, and a familiar name: Elphaba. What would Fiyero want with Elphie? Galinda chewed her lip—a habit she'd picked up from her green roommate—and sighed. Opening other people's mail was decidedly ungoodly, but really . . . who would blame her?
She skimmed the page, a furious blush rising and threatening to burn away her carefully-applied makeup. Galinda Upland of the Upper Uplands had never in her life been so angry. Her ex-boyfriend was marrying her roommate! Surely nothing like this had ever happened to a pretty girl before. A small, decidedly Elphie-ish voice in the back of Galinda's head suggested that it wasn't entirely Fiyero's fault, and that Elphaba was definitely not to blame. But Fiyero had lied, and Galinda was certain she would never forgive him.
It was a simple choice, really, to go to the library at noon and tell Fiyero exactly what she thought of him.
--
Fiyero paced through the dusty stacks in the library. It was three minutes past noon, and it was very unlike Elphaba to be late. What if she was angry? What if she wasn't coming? What if she'd run away rather than marry—
"You have no soul."
Fiyero knew that voice, and it wasn't the one he wanted to hear.
"Probable. What are you doing here, Glin?" Fiyero answered with a forced smile.
"I want to know what the hell this is," Galinda announced, thrusting Fiyero's letter in his face. Fiyero winced. Galinda only swore when she was drunk or dangerously angry. It was strange how Elphaba's anger—likely to result in scorching or fireworks or a massive thunderstorm—was less frightening than the anger of this tiny blonde. Maybe it was because Elphaba would kill you; Galinda just left you feeling miserable for hurting something as adorable and cuddly as she was.
"Didn't your Ama ever teach you that it's inappropriate to read other people's letters?" he asked.
"Answer me," Galinda countered, narrowing her heavily-made-up eyes in an attempt to be menacing.
"Elphaba's tricks don't suit you," Fiyero commented, "and that, since you asked so nicely, is a letter to my fiancée. Where is she?"
"She went home at sunrise. Why didn't you tell me you were . . . she was . . . you know?"
"I'm so sorry, Galinda. I just . . . couldn't. Not without telling her first. She should've known when I did. Her father . . . someone . . . should have taken the time to tell her. When I tried, she just snapped at me. What was I supposed to do?"
"I don't know. Do you really love her, or were all your fancy words to make her feel better?"
Fiyero took Galinda's hands in his. "I'm sorry, Glin. I can't make this easier for you . . . yes, I really love Elphaba."
Galinda sighed and pulled her hands out of Fiyero's.
"It makes sense, you know. I always thought we were perfect together . . . but we're too much together. You need someone to balance you out. I guess I do, too, but I haven't found him yet."
"That was really . . . wise, Galinda."
"Thanks," she whispered with a half smile. She leaned forward and kissed Fiyero lightly. "Goodbye, Fifi. I'll see you at your wedding."
"Goodbye, Glin. I'm sorry it had to be like this."
"So am I," she breathed, so softly Fiyero was never sure if he heard her at all.
