Part Two

The first thing Elphaba noticed the next morning was the terrible throbbing in her head and the pressure that had started to build up all around it. As she was neither prone to migraines, nor guilty of consuming any alcohol, she didn't quite know how to explain it. Sleep usually wasn't an issue either, so she chalked it up to the high emotional impact of the previous night. That certainly was something she wasn't accustomed to dealing with.

She opened her eyes half way, blinked a few times and arched her stiff spine. She bumped into Glinda, whose body responded by closing the narrow gap, arms probing for something to hold on to. Within a matter of milliseconds, Elphaba was wide awake and tingly from head to toe. It wasn't that she'd forgotten about the petite blonde sharing the bed with her; how could she? Nonetheless, finding her snuggled so close still came as somewhat of a shock. This specific part had much rather seemed like something her overtired brain would have dreamt up.

Anxious, yet curious, she craned her neck in a way so that she could see a little more than Glinda's dishevelled golden curls. Her expression was peaceful now, betraying none of the anguish she'd felt when they had first met at the hotel. Her cheeks were slightly flushed, probably from the heat their close proximity had created. Her lashes looked particularly pretty when her eyes were closed—so long and perfectly curled. Elphaba knew that she was being stupidly sentimental, but couldn't get over the thought that the most beautiful creature in this world was lying right there beside her.

She reached out, her hand hovering a hair's breadth above Glinda's bare shoulder. How easy it would be for her to indulge this sudden urge to touch the pale, soft skin. She was perfectly positioned, and if she were careful enough, Glinda would never even need to know...

That was when she came to her senses and hastily retracted her arm, pinning it to her chest.

The notion that she might do something that she wouldn't dare trying if Glinda were awake alarmed her. She had no right. Moreover, it would be a terrible violation of trust. Yes, Glinda herself had come up to her last night, seeking contact. But Elphaba realised that it would be a mistake to read too much into it. After all, her friend was in an extremely vulnerable place. It was no wonder at all that she was searching for someone—anyone—to cling to. What she needed right now was reassurance and patience. Taking advantage of Glinda's momentary weakness to push her own agenda would be the most irresponsible thing Elphaba could possibly do.

She rolled onto her back and stared at the ceiling. Oz, how badly she wished that this was indeed a stepping stone to something more, that her restraint, her thoughtful and considerate countenance would ultimately be rewarded. The rational part of her conscience told her to stop dreaming, while the more passionate side of her complained that it was too hard not to, now that she'd enjoyed at least a teeny tiny taste of what it could be like. If their friendship were to go back to their current normal, it would be hard to bear indeed. But what choice did she have, other than to wait for Glinda to regain her footing and maybe reconsider their relationship in her own time? None.

Rubbing her forehead with one hand, she used the other to fumble for her phone under the pillow. Before she could find it, a melodic chime rang out, but it wasn't her ringtone. She propped herself up on her elbows and looked over to the other side of the bed, where Glinda's mobile was still sitting on the dock. It beeped again and again. Elphaba's eyes cut to Glinda, worried that the string of messages might disrupt her well-deserved sleep. She had no way of knowing for certain, but she suspected that it was her old beau, at the verge of discovering that she was gone. Or perhaps he already had.

Another text came in and Elphaba carefully inched away from Glinda to get out of bed. She circled around the sofa-sleeper and plucked the phone from its small throne. The moment she held it in her hands, it came to live once more, this time buzzing and playing the melody of some pop song. For a moment, Elphaba was tempted to swipe upwards and answer the call, but caught herself. It was probably—no, definitely—not the best of ideas. Instead, she turned it off altogether, then divested herself of the annoying device by dropping it in its owner's handbag. She exhaled, scarcely looking forward to the not all too distant future when Glinda would fish it back out and discover whatever unpleasant conversation she was currently missing out on.

Elphaba returned to her side of the bed to retrieve her own phone. It was close to ten o'clock already. With one brief glance at the sleeping form before her, she decided to visit the manager and settle the bill, paying for an extra night so that Glinda could rest as much as possible. Before leaving, she quickly slipped back into her own tee and jeans. The stains had obviously not washed themselves, yet they were inconspicuous enough on the dark fabric and, most importantly, had dried completely. At any rate, it was a better look on her than Glinda's girly summer blue beach shirt.

Back in their room, she sat down at the foot end of the sofa bed and aimlessly perused the news and other articles. In retrospect, she really should have brought her laptop along and utilised every second of spare time for work-related purposes. Not having been in a similar kind of situation before, however, she forgave herself this minor lapse of foresight and began pondering reasonably convincing excuses for Avaric instead.

Neither the news reading, nor the excuse searching lasted particularly long, and Elphaba soon realised that not even her work would have been enough to keep her mind and eyes from constantly wandering back to the girl lying behind her on the bed. At first she blamed the cramped space of the motel room, which allowed for little to no privacy, then she blamed the messy boyfriend-escape situation which had her so bothered and riled up. In the end, she recognised that it was mostly her own bottled up feelings that were at fault, but those were about as incorrigible at this point as everything else.

She gave up. Perhaps she was asking too much of herself. She was only human after all. She moved to a different spot and allowed herself a few moments of unabashed admiration before resolutely jumping to her feet and making for the door.

It was well past breakfast time and would be lunch time soon. No matter how distracted she was, or how dreadful Glinda felt, they both would need some form of sustenance. With nothing better to do and far too many precarious thoughts in her head, the procurement of food was the safest and most productive activity she could think of.

No more than a few blocks away, she found a supermarket. It was tiny, hardly bigger than a decent Emerald City convenience store in size. Still, she managed spending over an hour there, walking from isle to isle, unable to decide on any particular items.

A text from Boq arrived. When she pulled out her phone to check it and realised how late it was, she almost dropped the can of beans she'd absentmindedly picked from a shelf. All of a sudden, it occurred to her that she should have left a message for Glinda. For all she knew, she could be long awake by now, worrying herself sick over her unexplained disappearance.

Her newfound sense of urgency seemed to have kick-started her brain again, and she quickly gathered everything she needed for a couple of cheese rolls. Pressing the paper bag full of groceries to her chest with one arm, she replied to Boq, congratulating him on the date he allegedly had secured. Maybe she should invite him later this weekend. She was already not going to be able to finish her assigned work, and she still felt mildly bad about her behaviour yesterday. An invitation would most likely be enough to make up for that.

She arrived back at the motel. For some reason, the door had suddenly decided to jam—whether out of pure spite or due to unintentional earlier mistreatment on her part, she couldn't tell. She put down her paper bag and jiggled this way, then that, until finally, the obstinate thing deigned to slide open.

Relieved, she blew a strand of hair out of her face and grabbed her shopping. The moment she set foot into the room, she noticed that Glinda was sitting up now, back towards the entrance area.

"Oh, you're awake," she said, watching her carefully as she made her way to the kitchenette, unsure how her friend was feeling today.

Glinda spun around in sheer surprise as if she hadn't heard any of the ruckus coming from the door.

Though slightly alarmed, Elphaba simply couldn't sustain contact with those wide, gorgeous eyes of hers. Somewhat befuddled, and evermore aware of the blonde's state of dress, she tried to focus on gathering all the necessary utensils and plates for her sandwich-making and banish all other thoughts from her mind. The cluttering of cutlery obscured the quiet words of whatever Glinda said next, and Elphaba felt compelled to turn around again.

"Uh, nothing," her friend replied to her question, and self-consciously looked somewhere to the side.

She looked confused and her cheeks were as red as if she were running a fever. In an attempt to give her at least a measure of personal space, Elphaba turned back around, as hard as it was, and began to unpack her bread, margarine and cheese.

"I'm making brunch," she announced as she cut open the first bun. "I hope cheese rolls are okay?"

Glinda's didn't immediately answer.

"Don't we have to check out or something?" she asked instead, but Elphaba only shrugged, letting her know that she'd already taken care of that.

"I'd like to start back before it gets dark," was her only request, seeing as the roads were an absolute nightmare to navigate at night.

If she'd anticipated that Glinda would be cheered up by the news, she'd been wrong. All of Elphaba's consideration and forethought appeared to have done hardly anything to improve the other girl's mood, for all she did was nod silently and stare out of the next best window. Elphaba in turn was deeply concerned.

Clearing her throat, she tried to reclaim her attention. She held out a finished sandwich to lure her away from the bed and into the kitchen. Glinda did seem to consider her offer for a moment, yet soon shook her head and declined.

Disappointed, Elphaba put the bread back on the plate and took a bite from her own food.

"Tea?" she suggested after swallowing her first mouthful, without really expecting a positive reply.

"Yeah, I suppose," said Glinda and even got off the bed to make the beverages herself.

Almost baffled, but certainly relieved, Elphaba watched her out of the corners of her eyes as she filled the cheap electric kettle with water and flicked the switch. A moment of silence passed before a spark of realisation flashed across Glinda's face.

"I've been looking for my phone. Have you seen it, Elphie? I thought I left it on the dock, but I guess I was just too out of it last night to actually remember."

Of course Elphaba knew about the bloody phone. The mere mention of it made her insides squirm in unease, while her exterior froze in apprehension. She must have been rather obvious, for Glinda soon turned around, eying her with a most curious expression.

Though she considered herself innocent of any wrongdoing, Elphaba couldn't shake the worry that Glinda might disagree.

"I, um… It kinda went off. A lot. I turned it off. It's in your handbag now."

The feared repercussion did not materialise, but watching Glinda rushing to her bag to retrieve the phone was almost equally as distressing.

"Are you sure you're ready for this?" she warned gently before Glinda had had a chance to switch it on. An anxious flutter reared its head at the deepest pit of her stomach as she waited for her reaction.

Glinda stared back at her. It was clear that, at first, she had no idea why Elphaba was so worried. Eventually, her thoughts caught up, however, and her gaze dropped to her hand holding the phone. After a few long moments, she looked back at Elphaba and away again, focusing on some distant object in the room. The taller girl watched the elegant column of her throat move as she swallowed hard.

"I guess I'll have to face the music sooner or later. Might as well get it over and done with."

Elphaba didn't know how to advise her. She saw her point, would probably say the same if she were in Glinda's shoes. But this was Glinda, not her, and she absolutely wasn't sure in what kind of shape her friend's resilience was just about now.

Through her indecision, she vaguely remembered reprimanding Sarima for infantilising her, and decided to take her own advice. She wouldn't push her own opinions unless explicitly asked. When the switch on the electric kettle clicked, signalling that the water was finished boiling, she turned around to take over the task of tea-making and give Glinda the space and privacy she needed to deal with the aftermath of last night's escape.

For a long period, there was nothing but eerie silence. Ostensibly calm, Elphaba slowly poured the water, slowly added the bags, slowly stirred the contents of both cups in turns until the tea was ready for the milk. No matter how much time she took preparing their drinks, it was never going to be long or even distracting enough to keep her from internally agonising over the soft sounds coming from the other side of the room. Her keen ears picked up the one or the other gasp, several sharp intakes of breath, and sometimes a small whimper. It was all she could do not to rush over there and rip the damn thing out of her hands and sink it in the toilet. Or at least fold Glinda in her arms and hold her tight until all pain would dissipate.

With the tea done and nothing else to occupy herself with, she began to cast fleeting glances in Glinda's direction. Over the span of what must have been several minutes, they became more and more lingering. Perhaps it she shouldn't have been surprised when Glinda eventually met her eyes, catching her in the act. Though her face betrayed neither anger, nor frustration, Elphaba felt uncomfortable enough to avert her gaze, making full use of her loose hair and hiding behind it. Even as she felt Glinda's eyes boring into her, she willed herself not to move.

Glinda's attention returned to her phone and Elphaba leaned against the kitchen counter, taking a couple of cautious sips from her tea. She started contemplating their next step. By her reckoning, they would pack up and leave within the next half hour or so. One hour at the most. Whenever Glinda had finished reading through her messages and more or less processed their emotional impact.

And then what? She'd drive Glinda home, but which home? Should she simply drop her off at her flat and leave her to her fate? She didn't know of how much use her flatmates would be in looking after her, or if she even wanted them involved, wanted them to know to begin with. Elphaba herself preferred the obvious alternative of taking Glinda to Mennipin Street and care for her herself. If that was what she wanted. Right now, she didn't even know how to put the proposal forward without possibly spooking her.

"Damn."

At the sound of Glinda's voice behind her, Elphaba's thoughts were scattered and her head picked up. All the same, she forced herself to stay put, with her ears cocked and anxiously waiting for any signals that might truly warrant an intervention. She curled her hands into fists and briefly closed her eyes. How desperately she wished she could have read the texts beforehand, in order to adequately prepare herself for the fallout; not knowing anything automatically made her assume the worst and this waiting game was definitely not her strong suit.

Just as she thought that, a clattering noise made her reel around. Her eyes immediately darted towards Glinda who still sat in the same spot as before, but was no longer holding her phone. Instead, the thing had fallen to the ground and slid across the floor, midway between the bed and the kitchenette. The girl herself looked almost shell-shocked and close to bursting into tears.

Elphaba supposed that was her cue and gingerly approached her. Her heart almost leaping into her mouth, she lowered herself to a squat and carefully reached for Glinda's trembling hands. They were as cold as ice. She licked her lips and looked up, searching her face for any hints as to what she needed from her. Glinda's stare was so blank and empty that, for an incredibly painful instant, Elphaba felt almost just as lost. She continued to look at her imploringly and eventually, a flash of recognition lit up in her eyes, causing a wave of relieve to course through Elphaba's body.

"Hey. Are you okay?"

Glinda nodded, but the motion was stiff and robotic. A split-second later already, she reconsidered her response and shook her head, giving in to a little sob.

Elphaba swallowed. It took a surprising amount of effort for her to not follow down the same path of despair. It took even more determination, however, to not jump up right there and then, in order to race back to Lake Chorge and find that arse of a man and punch his stupid, entitled face. She was a pacifist at heart, but ready to make exceptions where necessary. Rather than any moral standards or possible repercussions, it was Glinda who held her back, because she needed her right here by her side, and moreover, was unlikely to condone any such actions in the first place. That didn't keep Elphaba from fantasising over it.

It took Glinda quite a while to calm down. Meanwhile Elphaba, still holding on to Glinda's hands with her left, stretched out one long arm to angle for the phone on the floor.

Perhaps, this was a mistake, as Glinda immediately darted forward, yelling at her to surrender the phone. Elphaba did not hesitate to comply, but gave her a long, searching look.

She supposed Glinda was afraid that she might have tried reading her messages—which she wouldn't have, yet she could fathom the assumption. What really startled her was her fierce reaction; what in Oz was written in those messages that the words needed to be so carefully concealed? While she understood her friend's desire for privacy, she clandestinely wished that she'd chosen to share and commiserate instead. It would have made supporting her so much easier.

Elphaba spent another clock-tick or two stewing over the matter before deciding that it was a fruitless debate. Instead, she enquired whether there was anything she could do for her. Yet again, she watched the cogs in Glinda's mind churning, her feelings and thoughts doing battle inside her head, but was left completely in the dark. She bit back the mounting frustration she herself felt and told Glinda in her most neutral voice that she would be ready to leave this place whenever she was.

Ready or not, Glinda soon decided that it was time to move on regardless, and Elphaba wholeheartedly agreed. While Glinda busied herself in the bathroom, she pulled the sheets off the bed, folded the couch back up, and gave the kitchen a quick clean. They finished their tea in glum silence and loaded the car with their handful of belongings. Telling Glinda to wait in the passenger seat, Elphaba went to drop off the room keys at the office.

Glinda's secrecy, as much as Elphaba supported and respected her decisions, still weighed heavy on her as they travelled down the Yellow Brick Road. She didn't know what to say to her, didn't feel much like talking anyway. Yet she was as worried about her as ever, craving for any signs that she was slowly but surely recovering. She would take her eyes off the road as often as safely possible, glancing at Glinda's unchangingly melancholic expression or her hands, which never seemed to cease clenching her mobile, even though no further messages had arrived for at least the past hour.

"You still haven't eaten," were Elphaba's first words in a long while, prompted by the road sign of a local fast food chain.

The cheese sandwich she'd made lay untouched in the glove compartment, but maybe something else could convince Glinda to finally give her body the energy it needed. In an exceptional case such as this, Elphaba would hardly even bat an eyelid if Glinda suddenly felt like devouring a big, fatty beefsteak right next to her. Alas, nothing she subsequently suggested was able to quicken her appetite.

"How about a milkshake or smoothie then?" she suggested. "Something to keep you afloat without the pesky chewing."

Glinda acquiesced at last, if only for Elphaba's sake. They took the next left turn for a short detour through the restaurant's drive-through and ordered two oat milk banana shakes. Elphaba finished hers before returning to the motorway, while Glinda took the tiniest of sips and barely had finished a quarter of her drink by the time she announced that she was feeling sick.

"How sick?" asked Elphaba, studying her warily out of the corners of her eyes.

Looking ahead, she couldn't find any nearby exits or rest stops; they had passed the previous one no more than three kilometres earlier. Either too embarrassed or preoccupied to reply, Glinda merely sat there, slightly slumped forward, steadying herself with one hand on the panel in front of her. Her face was as white as chalk.

"Woah, okay," said Elphaba and shook her head. "Hang in there. I'll just pull over."

As soon as she found a reasonably wide shoulder section, she stopped the car. She scrambled out of her seat and walked over to Glinda's side to open the door for her and help her out. Luckily, there were no further physical barriers, which meant that they had easy access to the overgrown ditch a few metres away.

Glinda's hands were shaking almost as badly as they had been earlier, and felt just as cold. Elphaba could see that she was struggling, trying to hold back. She wished she knew a way to simultaneously aid her friend and render herself invisible. Glinda was obviously highly uncomfortable to have any witnesses.

When nature inevitably ran its course, Elphaba had no time to overthink her response. Silently, she alternately brushed back Glinda's hair and rubbed her back, while still steading her with her free hand. Her eyes peered off into the distance; not because she was at all disgusted, but because she figured it was the tactful thing to do. When her stomach was empty at last, Glinda coughed and Elphaba handed her a tissue.

"Well, that didn't work out as planned," the blonde muttered.

Her normal colour had not quite returned to her face yet, but her cheeks were now blushing furiously in humiliation. Elphaba felt at least to some degree responsible. If she hadn't talked her into drinking that smoothie, there most likely wouldn't have been enough contents in her digestive system to trigger such a strong reaction, no matter what the root cause might have been.

She apologised, but Glinda said nothing in return. Fingers anxiously combing through her curls to restore some semblance of order to her hair, she trudged through the long grass and back to the car, head hanging low.

They continued their journey. It would take them at least another hour until they reached the Emerald City. At first glance, not much had changed, seeing as they hadn't talked much before either. But Elphaba sensed that their silence had become even thicker now and harder to bear. Regrettably, she didn't have the first clue how to fix this.

The mood shifted again when Glinda's phone unexpectedly beeped again. Elphaba immediately stiffened, tightening her grip around the steering wheel. It almost physically pained her to watch how eagerly Glinda jumped to attention, her dainty fingers flying across the screen to type in the passcode.

A few seconds of unsettling tension followed as she read the message. Then, she barked out a mirthless laugh and brought up her hand to cover her face. Wondering whether she would need to stop again, Elphaba began to scan the road for relevant signs.

"Oh man," she heard Glinda say and promptly turned to give her a thorough onceover.

This was the first time Glinda hadn't made too much of an effort to hide her reaction from Elphaba. Either she was too exhausted to keep up her guard, or she was at long last ready to share. Elphaba decided to take a small risk and ask.

"He… um… well—He apologised," Glinda explained, perfectly incredulous.

Elphaba made a soft, irritated noise. Her experiences with people like Glinda's ex were few and far between, but she still knew that abusive episodes were frequently followed by meaningless apologies. The trouble was that, way too often, the other person in the relationship tended to accept them as genuine.

She cast the girl next to her another apprehensive glance.

"Listen to this," scoffed Glinda and began to read: "'Hey babe. I'm so sorry. I was just angry and hung over. I didn't mean any of it. Please let me know if you're safe. We can talk about it when you're ready.'" She blew forcefully though her nose. "The Ozdamn nerve of him!"

"Don't listen to anything he says," Elphaba commented in between grinding her teeth and supressing a fresh surge of sheer anger. "He's a proper turd and not worth your time." She didn't trust herself to say much more without falling into a rage.

Sighing heavily, Glinda fell back into her seat.

"Oh, I know! But how much easier would it be if we could just make up and forget this ever happened."

The sudden sensation of having a rug pulled away from underneath her feet startled Elphaba so much that she nearly slammed the break. Without any regard for the traffic, she felt her head whip around so she could stare at Glinda. The words that fell from her lips were beyond her control.

"You still want to be with him?"

She hadn't meant to sound so accusatory. She hadn't meant to comment at all without thoroughly considering her wording and tone. She was known to be frank, but she hadn't been entirely frank with Glinda for a long time, out of fear to one day betray too much of her own feelings.

As it turned out, she'd mistaken Glinda's meaning. There were no feelings involved, not even a sense of obligation towards the man—only her longstanding, deeply ingrained fears and desire for self-preservation.

"But just imagine what he's gonna tell my parents," she said, unable to meet Elphaba's eyes or even look at her. "I wouldn't put it past them to promptly summon me back to Frottica."

A profound sadness touched Elphaba's heart. Even though she'd been long aware of Glinda's outlook on her situation, they hadn't explicitly spoken about it recently. Hearing old attitudes reinforced, was demoralising. She was disappointed for Glinda's sake, because she didn't seem to have made much progress towards her own happiness, but also for herself—however reluctant she was to admit it. If Glinda hadn't been able to change her stance, then there was definitely no other role in her life for Elphaba besides that of that one weird friend.

"You need to contact them first," Elphaba suggested after an extended period of deliberation, pushing any self-pity aside in favour of focusing solely on Glinda's side of the conundrum. "You need to be the one in control of the narrative."

It was honestly the only advice she had to offer, other than ditching them all and eloping with her.

Glinda appeared to seriously consider the idea, then turned away to watch the passing cars.

The signs referring to the capital became more and more frequent, until they were subsequently replaced by more specific panels, sending drivers towards various different entry points. As Elphaba headed straight towards Shiz Gate, the unrest that had been slowly spreading within her began to intensify.

"By the way," she began, clicking her tongue and pointedly not looking in Glinda's direction. "I was just wondering…"

Oz, why was this so hard?

A busy roundabout served as valid excuse for her hesitance. She watched the oncoming cars with an abundance of caution before joining the flow of traffic. Once she emerged on the other side, she pulled herself together and continued.

"Your flatmates aren't expecting you back before tomorrow night, I suppose? Would you—would you like to come over to my place until then?"

She risked a furtive glance; the suggestion had made Glinda uneasy, and she felt her heart sink. She didn't like the thought of handing her over to Crope and Tibbett. They seemed to be nice lads, but she would have very much preferred to look after Glinda herself, so she could be certain that she was doing okay. The fact that Glinda didn't seem to want Elphaba around her for any longer than strictly necessary was also rather disappointing, and she struggled not to take it personally, even though it made sense that she needed her peace and quiet now.

"And the boys will just leave you to it?" she asked after Glinda had finally put in words what Elphaba had already gathered from her non-verbal cues. She mustered a lopsided grin. Acting casual would make it easier on both of them.

"Maybe not at first," admitted Glinda, but she smiled softly, which was somewhat reassuring. "But overall, they are less intrusive and obnoxious than you might think."

"Okay then," nodded Elphaba.

She considered telling Glinda that she could call her any time if she changed her mind, but reckoned that she was more likely to do so when not explicitly prompted. Mustn't be pushy.

They talked less again after that, and towards the end of their journey Elphaba noticed Glinda nodding off with increasing frequency. She also noticed how stubbornly she tried to keep herself awake, like it mattered at all. She could have slept the entire trip for all she cared. But that wouldn't be the Glinda way. Always proper, always on guard, even when she was at her worst. Honestly, it was exhausting just to watch her like this.

"Do you think I overreacted?" the blonde asked after a while, completely out of the blue.

Once again, Elphaba was taken aback. How bad did things have to get for Glinda to feel justified in her resistance and request for help? While she could almost empathise with her tendency to see her misfortune as something that she had, at least in part, brought upon herself by making the wrong choices along the way, she couldn't for the life of her comprehend how she could now look back at that train wreck of an evening and doubt that she'd finally made the right call.

Elphaba didn't give voice to any of those thoughts, but stopping at a red traffic light, she took the opportunity to properly look at her and offer an encouraging smile.

Glinda's apartment building was very close now. As per her request, Elphaba dropped her off in front of the house and helped her unload her belongings. Her hands felt incredibly heavy as she lifted them to pass on the bags. Their fingers brushed against each other and Elphaba's longing to hold on to her sunk in her stomach like a lead weight. Glinda herself looked flustered, maybe anxious from the strange tension between them.

The taller girl followed her eyes as she gazed upwards, searching for any signs of her flatmates in the windows. When she looked back at Elphaba, Glinda mustered a nervous smile that quickly faltered. Elphaba couldn't help but stare at her. She didn't know when she'd see her again, whether she'd be okay. Whether they'd be okay. Not much was certain after a few days as turbulent as those they'd had.

But then, without warning, Glinda did the one thing Elphaba had least expected. Wrapping one arm around her shoulder for support, Glinda pushed herself up to her tiptoes. Her slightly chapped but wonderfully warm lips pressed against Elphaba's cheek and remained there for an astonishingly long moment, rendering her absolutely incapable of speech, motion or reason. All that crossed her mind was the thought of how glad she was that Glinda was unable to see her like this, with her eyes shock-wide and her head on fire.

Needless to say, Elphaba wouldn't have thought much of a simple peck, if it hadn't been such a rare occurrence. Compared to Sarima's strong physicality, she could count any instances in which Glinda had tried to kiss her on one hand, not even using all of her fingers. Never had she felt any emotion factor into those chastest of kisses either, yet this time she really thought she did, and the realisation gave life to but the tiniest flame of hope in her heart.

She wished she could have held on to the moment, but that was not the way of the world. Before Glinda let go, however, she turned her head, cheek resting against cheek, and thanked her.

"I'll never forget that you did this for me."

Elphaba's entire body was full of butterflies.

Elphaba sat in her car, parked around the corner from Glinda's apartment building. She'd tried to drive off, but had found herself too distracted to safely navigate the rush hour traffic. Leaning back in her seat, elbow propped up against the window and her legs crossed, she stared at the ceiling, trying to sort through her muddled thoughts.

There were too many contradicting emotions boiling in her chest; she wasn't good with emotions. She was good at either supressing them completely or giving them free reign and doing whatever came natural. If there was any chance that Glinda might requite her feelings, she didn't want to hide her own, but the situation was more complicated than that. She didn't know if she could temper her emotions adequately to navigate this mess. She'd never cared to try before.

Besides, she had no concrete evidence yet. As far as she knew, the kiss could have been nothing but a fluke. Glinda herself wasn't in the best shape right now and might have been similarly confused and unable to handle her feelings. Or maybe she'd really meant to kiss her, but merely to express her appreciation, thinking nothing of it. Nothing at all…

'I'll never forget that you did this for me.'

It had been clear from the beginning how self-conscious Glinda had felt about asking to be rescued. To her, the help that Elphaba had offered, was a favour that should be repaid, though it might be near impossible to do so. She was grateful, deeply grateful. Nothing but grateful. But perhaps that was all it was.

Yes, that was quite likely, decided Elphaba. She was overthinking this for no good reason. No reason other than her own wishful thinking. The conclusion was discouraging, but sobering. Nodding along in resignation, Elphaba let the truth sink in. She'd had her little moment of happiness, but that would be it. Time to move on.

She sighed heavily as she got back into her driving position. She should get going. It wasn't too late yet and if she worked hard enough, she might even get a decent amount of work done.

Even though he knew nothing about Elphaba's recent discovery, Shell didn't show his face until several days after the events of the weekend. Lucky for him, Elphaba's anger had dissipated somewhat by then and avoidance was the severest punishment she ended up levelling on him. He scarcely minded.

He didn't know it, of course, because Elphaba was extremely careful not to let anything on, but the main reason for her attenuated response was her increasingly severe preoccupation with Glinda's wellbeing. It was Friday now, one week on the dot after her unexpected call-out to Lake Chorge. She hadn't heard from Glinda. Not a word.

At first, she'd hoped for some form or communication by Sunday morning, but had let it slide and dismissed her concerns when none arrived. By Sunday evening, she was agitated and angry—with herself mostly, for being so impatient. When news still failed to reach her by Monday night, she'd decided that it would be okay and not at all importunate to write first.

A quick 'Hey, how ya doing?' was all she dared to send.

It remained unanswered.

For twenty-four more hours she found all sorts of explanations and made excuses. Her ring tone was set to maximum volume. Sometimes, she had her phone beside her laptop as she tried to work—unlocked, so that she could cast frequent glances at the screen. Her earlier message was still marked as unread. When she resolved to call at last, she was routed straight to voicemail.

She attempted to call Glinda twice each day that followed. Hearing her voicemail greeting over and over again was the most excruciating part of it all. She loathed hearing her clear, beautiful soprano, only to realise a second later that it was the same pre-recorded text as at her previous attempts. The first two times she hung up almost immediately, but as her desperation grew, she found herself clinging to every syllable.

Riddling out the cause for this radio silence was quickly becoming her main pastime and often distracted her from work. Really, there were only two major reasons that she could conceive, yet agonising over them and weighing their respective likelihood tended to demand a lot of dedication. More recently, she'd taken to pacing in her office while doing so. It didn't aid much in her deliberations, but helped to balance out her mental and physical fatigue. Whenever she was particularly fortunate, she would sit down to repose in her armchair and fall asleep nearly as soon as her head touched the backrest.