AN:

Hello, my lovelies!
Gooood neeeews! I couldn't be happier to present you with this chapter about one week earlier than expected! Okay, maybe a little bit happier, because this chap was a mess to write, and I still have residual worries that it's not quite as comprehensible as it ought to be. Ah well…
I'm still a bit busy at the moment, so don't expect Chapter Eight to come out faster than this one. Two to three weeks should do it though, so don't worry too much either.

Anyway, for now I thank you for your continued support and wish you all happy (?) reading!
Xoxo MLE
(=^_^=)

Chapter Seven

Why in Oz had she told Galinda?

That was the question that relentlessly went through Elphaba's mind as she lay on her bed, staring at the high, immaculate ceiling above. They'd known each other for how long? A couple of weeks? And they'd only been reasonably close for one of them. Sharing any intimate—let alone shocking—details of her private life was uncharacteristic for Elphaba under the most favourable of circumstances. So what had suddenly compelled her to offer them so freely, much like the unionist pamphlets regularly handed out by the missionaries on the corner of Crage Street and Tower Avenue?

Would she have told Boq, her longstanding childhood friend? Certainly not! While others might disagree, the fact that he was a boy was hardly even a consideration for her. Why should Galinda qualify as a confidante, solely on the grounds of being a member of the same gender?

Nessa was female, too, and she'd never even dream of divulging such matters to her. Her sister was about as fanatic about her religion as their father was. If she ever caught wind of this most precarious situation Elphaba had gotten herself into, she'd first rat her out to Frexspar, and maybe their great-grandfather, and then proceed to shun and condemn her. Elphaba and Nessarose might have drifted apart over the past couple of years, but she still loved her too much to risk her irrevocable scorn.

So she supposed, it all boiled down to whether she could have avoided talking about it altogether. As a general rule, the answer would have to be a resounding yes, for she'd definitely kept secrets before, worked through pain and otherness all on her own. Never before had any predicament proven too challenging to overcome in due time. Hence, she knew that she could do it, that she wouldn't eventually erupt out of the sheer frustration bottled up inside of her.

And yet, she had caved this time. Why? Why?

She'd always considered the structures of defence that she'd managed to build up over the years to be sturdy from the inside out, as well as the outside in. They contained as much as they protected. Up until now, they had been impossible to breach—though she had to concede that mere few had tried out of pure malice, and even fewer out of charitable reasons. So could it be that her assessment of her strength had been too overweening? Had she overestimated herself? Had she finally found her match in this most inconspicuous, petite, golden curled whirlwind of a girl?"

Boq, whom she blamed just the tiniest bit for her predicament, had not caused her to accidentally spill the beans. Despite being blissfully unaware, he did have a measure of leverage over her, but on the other hand, he had never really tried to coax her out of her shell. As soon as she'd bristled, he'd retreated. When he had tried one more advance, she'd left and he'd let her go easily.

Galinda was different, however. She'd made short work of her reticence and still continued to elicit secret after secret from her. Persistence and artful coercion were without a doubt key elements of her strategy, but how exactly she used them to seemingly get to the very bottom of Elphaba's non-existent soul and how she could possibly stop her was beyond the green girl's expertise. The reason why she was so interested in her in the first place was one she didn't even dare ponder.

Did that mean that the only solution was distance? Should she leave and isolate herself once again in order to repair her weakened defences and preserve the last remaining vestiges of her dignity? Perhaps it was too late already. Perhaps she had not enough dignity left to save.

If that was the case, the next logical step was to question whether there was still a point in resistance at all. If it was too late to prevent the unpreventable, then why not look at the upsides? Elphaba admittedly was not much of an optimist, but maybe there were some rational, pragmatic advantages to be discovered.

While she'd read that the sharing of trauma might bring some form of relief and was therefore encouraged by psychological authorities and laymen alike, Elphaba found it difficult to dissect her feelings accurately enough to come to a concrete conclusion. She still remembered a sense of intangible alleviation at the moment of her confession, and a similar feeling the following night when Galinda had assured her that her unusual lack of certain interests and desires was not quite as unusual as she'd come to believe. None of it had lasted though, or at the very least her earlier qualms had swiftly been replaced by others, partially caused by the exact same intimacy that was supposed to help and heal her.

This realisation came not at all unexpected. Of course, the whole concept of sharing was too unfamiliar to her. She imagined it like a skill that required honing before it could be of any practical use. Maybe, like language or musical aptness, it was a skill better acquired in childhood and difficult to master for adults. Maybe it was too late for her to learn, and she was simply wasting her and Galinda's time.

But what about Galinda's advice and wisdom? Had that been helpful and possibly worth the turmoil? Not yet, Elphaba decided, although the information she'd offered so tenderly was intriguing enough to warrant further consideration and research. Amidst the general chaos and confusion she hadn't had quite enough time yet to digest it all, but she would look into it as soon as her other problem had been taken care of.

Her other problem…

She blinked as she noticed her hand resting on her stomach, flush against her skin, and she felt her heart leaping into her mouth. She hadn't even realised when it had slipped beneath her t-shirt. Her eyes squeezed shut, and she exhaled forcefully. Her teeth clenched, and she tore her hand away like a little girl who'd been tempted by her mother's priceless jewellery. It lay next to her now, balled into a tight fist, her nails digging into her palm.

Hesitantly, she glanced at it as she reopened her eyes and a strange, croaky sound escaped her throat. It was just her bare, empty hand. It had not been stained by the distracted touch, nor did it have memory of any forbidden tender feelings. It was just her own, green, cold hand, and she was being stupid and sentimental and altogether not herself.

Her vision blurred and focused again as tears came and went without shedding. She exhaled deeply and called herself to action. A wandering mind was the last thing she needed right now. What she did need was distraction and to go on with her day, her assignments, her work, her life. Seizing this thought, she sat up and flung her legs over the edge of the mattress in one sharp motion. Within the blink of an eye she was on her feet. Maybe she'd moved a tiny bit too fast she realised, as a brief dizzy spell made her reach for the desk for support. It was overcome quickly, however, and within no time at all, she was in the kitchen, fixing herself some muesli for breakfast.

According to the display on the microwave it was almost nine o'clock—late for Elphaba, but she wasn't the least bit surprised that there was no sign of Galinda who she already knew to be a late riser anyway. Remembering how inebriated her roomie had been the previous night, she didn't expect her to make it downstairs before noon.

After emptying her bowl and finishing a glass of fresh apple juice, Elphaba put away the used dishes in the dishwasher and picked up where she'd last left off with her history assignment. It was an unrewarding task. While she'd finished her draft two days ago, she had also ended up with three times the permitted word count, which meant that her work was far from concluded. It was all due to her infuriating tendency to forget that this was merely an entry level course and that her in-depth analysis was beyond the scope of the assignment. The first time this had happened, she'd squabbled with the lecturer, made an argument for why advanced students should be allowed to complete the work at a higher level. He, on the other hand, was not prepared to take on the extra labour of reading and grading the resulting essays, and that was that.

After cutting the word count by nearly a quarter, she felt drained and discouraged. She was still nowhere close to the required length. At this point, trying to omit passages here and there almost seemed like a hopeless endeavour. The alternative of starting all over instead started to look more and more attractive.

But it didn't matter right now. Regardless of whichever strategy she chose in the end, she would have to tackle it another time, she decided. Her eyes felt strained, and her head was throbbing. Maybe the overwhelming frustration had something to do with it, or her lack of quality sleep. Taking off her reading glasses, she brought up her hands to rub her temples, but it did little to soothe.

And so, back to bed it was. Elphaba couldn't believe she was really doing this. She found sleeping in the middle of the day infuriatingly unproductive. Who know though, maybe she was coming down with something on top of everything else—in which case rest was a safer path than working herself into the ground.

Waking from her nap, she realised that it hadn't had the intended effect at all. If anything, her head had only gotten worse, threatening to split in two any second now. She picked up her phone to check for the time and a flash of pain struck her like lightning when she realised that she was already late for her shift. Annoyed, she flung the phone aside and scrambled to her feet.

She dragged herself to the kitchen on the hunt for Galinda's stash of painkillers that she kept in the pantry for some odd reason, together with her obnoxious array of vitamins and supplements that she seemed to collect but hardly ever use. She popped two of the oblong tablets and flushed them down with a glass of water. After that, she tried to ignore her discomfort as much as possible and proceeded to brush her teeth and get changed. Ten minutes later, she closed the door behind her and set off on her way to work.

She briefly looked up at the neat row of fancy two-storey houses as she walked past. It still seemed a bizarre place for her to live, just like she could never imagine herself moving into her family's ancestral home in Colwen Grounds. She didn't belong in either of those spaces, though where she did belong wasn't entirely clear to her either. She had felt strangely at home in her Little Glikkus dwelling, among the weird and wonderful, the beggars and outcasts. But Galinda was right about that much: it wasn't the safest area in Shiz, and her crummy apartment in particular was very much a health hazard.

Galinda's much cosier townhouse also offered more peace and quiet for studying, and not having to wrap herself in layers of blankets or coats while reading was a definite advantage as well, as were warm fingers that did not cramp or ache when writing. Besides, it was closer to both campus and work, which saved tons of time. Oh well, she would miss those amenities when she'd inevitably move out once her crisis was over and Galinda would eventually find herself something or someone else to fuss over.

She supposed she'd kind of miss Galinda, too. Despite the occasional friction between them, Elphaba had grown rather fond of their camaraderie and, quite frankly, their mere coexistence. While she very much considered herself a lone wolf, she'd grudgingly discovered that she did not excel at solitude. Previously, her entire life had revolved around taking care of her sister, which had left her isolated but never alone. While she'd often resented that, her initial delight over finally finding seclusion had also been fleeting at best. Something had always been missing, though it was certainly not the servitude. Then, Galinda had stepped in and filled the void, if only by pure accident. Out of stubbornness, Elphaba chose not to think too much about how Galinda had improved her life, but she realised that losing her would sooner or later force her to confront those feelings. Which was why, for the time being, she also rather avoided thinking about leaving at all.

Elphaba woke with a start. With her heart racing, she scrambled to a sitting position on her bed, then relaxed ever so slightly and rested her head on her knees and wrapped her arms around her drawn up legs. Another night, another nightmare; what else was new? Well, actually, this was no longer true. She'd had two nights of peace recently and had almost expected her lucky streak to continue. But the healing magic of her confession seemed to have worn off, or at least it didn't prove strong enough to completely absolve her from the memories of her foolish dalliance.

Perhaps this time the dream had been less vivid, she mused, but that was only a subjective feeling and could possibly be no more than wishful thinking. The darkness of the room had still been as palpable as ever, the scent of the incense had been every bit as intense and sickening as before. The strong arms holding her in place, on the other hand… She swallowed as she remembered them feeling vaguely less threatening and a touch gentler than in her previous recollections. Maybe eventually they would loosen enough to set her free.

His arms. She remembered them more vividly than she remembered his face. The tone of his muscles had been striking, the tone of his skin even more so. A sudden awareness of his genetic imprint on the creature she was still carrying sent her mind reeling. If it were to be allowed to live and grow, it would look at least somewhat like him, forever reminding her of her grave lapse in judgement.

And what a grand lapse that had been! An even greater one than she'd previously thought. After all, Galinda out of all people, had long known something that she had entirely missed. She wondered how exactly her perfect roomie had arrived at her conclusions, and how exactly she herself had come to overlook such a vital clue? By Oz, she already spent every free second of her life with her nose in some book or journal, reading and researching and finding out about new developments in science and politics. Even if she gave credit where credit was due and admitted that Galinda was terribly clever and reasonably well-studied, she was certain that she could still teach the blonde a thing or two about literally every topic out there. Except for her own sexuality, out of all things! Now that was a subject where their roles suddenly seemed paradoxically reversed. How absurd.

She could blame her upbringing, she supposed. After her somewhat turbulent formative years, Elphaba's life had become quiet and sheltered amidst a rural religious community in Quadling Country. Her father had been strict; discussion of anything unholy had not been permitted under his roof. Even so, Elphaba had always known something that her sister hadn't—that at certain times, there'd been more people involved in this ménage than just their mother and their father.

Although she'd only been a young child then, Elphaba had been keenly aware of their mother's faceless lovers' coming and going. Whom she vividly remembered was Turtleheart, a Quadling man who'd been particularly close to both of their parents. She'd always suspected him to be responsible for the rosy tint to Nessa's skin. Owing to their father's fondness for him, Frex adored his younger daughter regardless, or maybe even more because of it all.

However, after two children, born with varying defects, Frex had seen that as a sign of the Unnamed God's displeasure and promptly forsworn this life of fornication as he now called it and demanded that his wife do the same. For their daughters, only chastity till marriage and devotion to the unionist faith would do. The family had been promptly rewarded with a healthy baby boy, though their joy was short-lived as Melena ended up dying soon after giving life to him.

The series of events had had profoundly different effects on the two sisters. Whereas Nessa had henceforth aimed to try even harder to please her father's god, Elphaba, the more cynical of the pair, had thrown up her hands, asking what was the point of it all. She'd rebelled, mostly quietly. Behind his back, she'd read and learnt about any topic she came across—especially the unholy ones, just to spite him, if only in her mind. Her curiosity had led her to discover much knowledge about sensual and sexual pleasures and their many forms.

Yet all her books had managed to teach her was that she herself did not fall anywhere within the norm or even the outside fringes. Isolated as she'd been, without access to real life representatives of queerness in all its diversity, theoretical knowledge had forsaken her for the very first time, and now she felt betrayed. She'd naïvely assumed that a lack of traditional literature automatically meant a lack of wisdom, and that she'd have to compensate for this gap by diving head first into experimental territory—a sacrifice for the sake of science and self-discovery that, as it unfortunately turned out, had been entirely unwarranted and unnecessary. And much too costly.

The precise cost was something she still didn't quite comprehend if she was perfectly honest. The nightmares probably weren't here to stay. Likewise, she didn't think that the experience had left her scarred for life. Most of it undoubtedly came down to her present condition and how heavily it weighed on her conscience. As far as she could tell, she was quite sure to recover as soon as she'd rectified all of that.

The crux of the matter? Her perpetual state of paralysis, which led to inaction, which led to control ever so gradually slipping away from her, which in turn, could eventually lead to an unspeakable worsening of her situation.

She couldn't explain her reluctance. It went against all her logic and reason. It simply… was.

In her head she knew that she needed to initiate the next step, and that she had to do so sooner rather than later. It was the only rational and responsible choice available to her. Yet despite her best intentions, several weeks had already elapsed without her doing so much as making any enquiries about the process. She wanted to give herself a good kick and spur herself into action. This was not like her at all. She was more level-headed than this—or so she'd always thought.

In a sudden bid to prove to herself that she indeed had what it took to take charge of her own life once again, she picked herself up and reached for her phone on the nightstand. After unlocking it and pulling up the WizzSearch site, she stared at it for a good while. Her best bet was to look up the specific services provided by her local community sexual health centre. She'd been there before, and while the staff had been slightly stroppy, they were the only place she knew where she might be able to access help free of charge. As far as she was aware, the cost would otherwise be sheer prohibitive for someone in her financial situation.

Slowly, one letter at the time, she typed the name of the facility before quickly deleting it all and uttering a long sigh. She ran her hand through her messy hair that had fallen across her face and obscured her view. She wondered whether she should try again. She didn't. Instead, she searched for medical papers on the incidence of spontaneous abortion on a week by week basis. She thought back to when that cursed night had taken place and realised that four weeks had passed her by in a flash. She studied the graphs before her and mulled over the facts. The stats weren't exactly on her side, but there still was a decent chance that nature would make this rotten decision for her.

In that case, there would be no need to talk to anyone about it, other than Galinda who already knew and would not leave her alone until the matter was resolved. At least this way, her privacy would be no further invaded. There would be no side effects, no shame, no regrets. A few more days of waiting wouldn't hurt, would they? Especially not if the upsides were so promising.

Pushing her reservations to the back of her mind, she stuffed her phone away in the satchel next to her bed. Just a few more days, she repeated once more in her mind as she pulled herself up and onto her feet. She flung on her oldest t-shirt that Galinda loathed like poison, just so she could start a playful argument and distract herself from thinking. Just a few more days.

It happened halfway through biology class on Friday. The cramping was unpleasant and ill timed, but she'd suffered through worse before. What was far more agonising was the wait for the end of the lecture, for the last thing she wanted was to draw unnecessary attention to herself by leaving early. Even after Doctor Dillamond had concluded his presentation, she made sure not to be the first to dash out of the door. She gathered her belongings in her usual, calm manner, cast a fleeting look in Galinda's direction and shouldered her satchel. With long but by no means hasty strides, she left the theatre.

Her heart beating wildly in her chest, she headed towards the back of the science building in accordance with the plan that she'd devised while waiting for her class to end. The toilets there were terribly out of date, but as a consequence pretty clean and quiet. Most students preferred to avoid them where possible, so she hoped to be undisturbed there.

The sight of the splash of blood in her underwear evoked confusion and conflicting emotions in her. Was it enough? Was it too much? This was a hopeful sign, was it not? She'd been eagerly awaiting this to happen, had she not? Then why wasn't she as relieved as she ought to be? Maybe it was only human to be at least marginally afraid or upset, no matter how desirable such an outcome might be, rationally speaking.

She took the bus to her old flat. Her satchel dropped to the floor next to the door with a loud thud as if it had been filled with bricks. After putting water on the stove, she went to the bathroom again to check on her progress. She felt a touch calmer now and less overwhelmed by it all, but a certain twisting at the pit of her stomach remained. Or was that just the cramps? She popped the bag of cheap tea dust into her cup and folded herself up on the couch. How long did those things usually take? Hours? Days? Would she be able to wait it out here? The thought that she should shoot Galinda a text crossed her mind, but she couldn't muster the strength to go through with it. The best she could do for the time being was to pick up a book and read and wait, and then read some more.

"You didn't answer any of my texts!"

As tiny as she was, Galinda could be imposing if she really wanted to. Her face stern and flushed, her arms akimbo and her legs slightly apart, she could have cowed Elphaba easily, if the green girl hadn't already been so subdued.

"I wasn't paying attention to my phone," she replied dismissively, ducking her head as she pushed past her roomie in order to disappear straight into her room.

"Then what do you have this damn thing for, hm?" demanded Galinda, but Elphaba briskly closed the door on her and turned the key in the lock. "Elphaba! I'm talking to you! This is not acceptable behaviour!"

She exhaled a tired breath. This situation felt very much like her spats with her old man back at home when she'd still been a teenager. Only she was no longer a teenager, and Galinda had no right to reprimand her like this. If she wasn't happy with Elphaba doing her own thing and keeping her own secrets, she might as well kick her out, but treating her like a child was not an option.

Thankfully, she did give up relatively quickly. Astoundingly quickly, actually, if Elphaba really thought about it. Unwilling to set foot into their shared space, she remained in her room for the rest of the evening, working on her assignments. Galinda returned around nine o'clock, asking through the door whether she wanted any food. To her own surprise, Elphaba did afford the matter some consideration, but ultimately she decided that she had no appetite.

She put off any bathroom visits until she was reasonably positive that Galinda had retired upstairs. When she finally did go, she spent almost an hour inspecting, analysing, researching on her phone and waiting for more to happen. It didn't, and she went to bed, sleeping fitfully.

The next three days were mostly more of the same, though she did eventually emerge from her seclusion. It was hard to miss the looks that Galinda cast her whenever Elphaba entered a room that she already occupied, though on the other hand, she was amazed at the blonde's restraint as far as further admonishments and interrogations were concerned. The tension between them was frustrating yet tolerable and, in due course, showed first signs of improvement. Her morose mood also appeared to automatically exempt her from cooking duty, since Galinda—without as much as mentioning it—took it upon herself to order or bring home takeout each night, which Elphaba ate with little enthusiasm but a decent measure of gratitude.

By Saturday evening the bleeding had fizzled out. Elphaba glowered at the last few spots of it with grim indecision. Was that it? Had this miserable episode finally come to an end? All in all, she'd expected somewhat more of a mess, but then again, the information she'd been able to find online had been severely lacking and not at all descriptive when it came to the volume of blood and so forth. Had she been a concerned future mother who desired to continue this pregnancy, she'd probably have badgered her doctor or midwife on a daily basis, asking whether her baby was safe and sound or whether all hope was lost. Most likely, even in her situation consulting a healthcare professional would have been advisable, but she was stubborn like that and dismissed the idea about as quickly as it occurred to her.

There were no nightmares that night, no fits that disturbed her sleep. In fact, she couldn't remember when she'd last slept this well. She chose to take that as a good sign, an indication that her body was finally free and recovering, and that this great burden had been lifted from her shoulders.

In hindsight, she almost felt remorseful over her grouchy behaviour towards Galinda. In an effort to initiate reconciliation, she got dressed early that day and went out to grab some artisan rolls and pastries from the nearby bakery. On the way back, she picked up fresh fruit from the supermarket.

She set up the table with the pastries on a large plate and the bread in a basket that she'd found on top of a shelf. Galinda would probably find that pretty, she thought, as she lined it with a napkin for sanitary purposes. The oranges, apples and bananas she turned into smoothies; the small watermelon was cut into triangles and placed in the middle of the table. An omelette was also part of the plan, but all she could do in preparation was to chop up the filling. The rest had to be cooked fresh or it would end up cold and stale by the time Galinda came down.

At the first subtle sounds from upstairs, Elphaba began to brew the coffee. When Galinda descended the polished concrete stairs at last, she surveyed the scene before her with obvious scepticism, an askance look on her face.

"Okay," she said slowly, folding her arms, "spit it out, Elphaba. What did you do?"

The green girl looked away sheepishly. Apologies were not her forte.

"Nothing that you're not already aware of," she mumbled and cleared her throat awkwardly.

Galinda studied her for an excruciatingly long moment before her expression softened and the ghost of a smile appeared on her lips.

"Oh, Elphie," she began, and for a split-second it seemed like she was going to say more, but her half-open mouth closed again, and her lips quirked into a grin. "Come and sit with me then," she said, patting the general area of the table where Elphaba would usually eat before taking her own seat.

"In a moment," replied Elphaba, holding up two eggs in explanation.

Wiggling happily in her chair, Galinda squealed lightly and clapped her hands.

"Oh goodie, goodie! This breakfast will be perfect!"

"Well, it's more of a brunch by now," cackled Elphaba from the kitchen, swiftly turning around to concentrate on her pan and hiding from the glare Galinda was bound to send her way.

It was Sunday, and they discussed their individual plans. Galinda confessed that she'd extended an invitation to Avaric and Shenshen for the purpose of their group work. Elphaba shrugged it off and promised that she'd spend most of her afternoon at the library. Galinda nodded thoughtfully, then paused and gave her a funny side-glance.

"No work today?" she asked with marked nonchalance.

Elphaba's hand tensed around the knife she was using to cut open her bread roll. While she did not work every Sunday, Galinda must have noticed by now that she hadn't taken up any shifts at all the past few days.

"I wasn't quick enough to sign up for any extra work," she answered stiffly. "We've got this new guy who maxes out his hours wherever he can, leaving only scraps for the rest of us to fight over.

It wasn't a lie, except for the fact that the kid in question wasn't quite as new as she made him out to be and that Elphaba had never before failed to put her preferred shifts down before him. She definitely would go back to work on Monday though, so there was no need to complicate matters by opening up about her last few days just yet. For once, Galinda was not poking around with her unshirkable questions, and she was thankful for that. She would explain it all to her as soon as she'd managed to gain some much needed distance from the most recent events and fully recovered her footing. Little did she know that her neat, tidy plan would be thwarted and scuppered before breakfast was over.

Perhaps it was the eggs and mushrooms, or maybe the cheese had gone off. Yet strangely enough, Galinda had also eaten both and was not yet showing any adverse reactions to the food. Possibly the blonde's stomach was simply stronger, but then again, Elphaba could not recall having issues like this before.

She brought up her hand to stifle what felt like a small burst of gas coming back up from her oesophagus—accompanied by a bout of heartburn, she supposed—and only in time clamped both of her hands firmly over her mouth. Without a second thought, she shot to her feet and dashed towards the bathroom, barely taking note of the sound of her chair falling over in the wake of her hasty retreat.

It wasn't one second too early that she reached the toilet. Blindly, she fumbled for the tissue roll on the wall so she could at least provisionally dry and clean her stinging hands. The contents of her stomach kept spewing forth, despite the small amount of food she'd consumed this morning. Unfortunately, that was the least of her concerns, and the final mouthful of vomit was accompanied by a throaty cry.

Disproportionately exhausted and breathless, she sunk down next to the toilet, leaning against the cold, tiled wall and gasping for air. Her eyes were fixed on the ceiling, then instinctively screwed shut at the first prick of tears in an effort to hold them back. Of course it wasn't the cheese or the eggs, nor the bloody mushrooms. It was her stupid hormones going through the roof, which could only mean one thing.

Her fist hit the hard floor beneath her, but without any real punch to it. She'd been an idiot to buy into hope, and the worst of it all was that she'd known it all along. Lucky breaks and near misses were not for the likes of her. Whatever she sowed, she'd reap, especially in terms of misfortunes. Life had taught her that already and she'd been too pig-headed to listen. Now this was her just deserts.

At the sound of approaching footsteps, Elphaba opened her eyes again. Her breathing had slowed in the meantime, and she was overcome by a strange and unnatural calm in the wake of her ultimate resignation. She wet her dry lips, swallowed and lethargically lowered her gaze to the doorway. Just as expected, her blonde housemate appeared barely a clock-tick later, concern etched in her otherwise soft features.

"Are you alright?" she asked near inaudibly as she leaned with one side against the frame.

The girl on the floor only shook her head and looked to the side.

"Is it okay if I come in or… or would you prefer me to go away?"

Biting her lip, Elphaba considered her offer, but came up with no definite answer. It wasn't before Galinda turned away, that she quietly called out for her to stay. Out of the corners of her eyes she saw her smile at that and slowly tiptoe in her direction. After a brief moment of hesitation and a sigh, she lowered herself to Elphaba's level and sat down, legs crossed.

The silence between them was tense, but not entirely uncomfortable. Just like the previous days, Galinda was not pushing. She wasn't even trying to touch her cheek or hold her hand as she was wont to do whenever she hoped to give solace. All she did was sit in quiet, her mere presence a strange and unexpected source of comfort for Elphaba.

"I—I thought it was gone," the green girl said after what seemed like an eternity.

She didn't elaborate, but Galinda appeared to be able to fill in the gaps on her own and did not ask for further details. When Elphaba made no attempt at communicating again, Galinda waited just a short while longer before cautiously taking the lead.

"At this point, I don't think this will go away on its own," she whispered gently, then paused and watched for any reaction. "We… have to start figuring out what to do next."

"We?" repeated Elphaba incredulously and scoffed.

The corners of Galinda's mouth twitched, forming the most fleeting of smiles.

"You are the only one who can decide what it is you want going forward. But I'll be here to help you if that's what you want. That's what I signed up for when I invited you here. I want to provide more than just a safe roof over your head. I want to be your friend if you let me." She laughed, which struck Elphaba as a bit weird at first, but then she thought that it was the most uplifting sound she'd ever heard. "You know, I'm pretty sure that I already made this abundantly clear," she said, "but you seem to be really stubborn that way, so I guess I'll simply have to spell it out for you over and over again."

Elphaba's eyes found hers and beheld her in pure astonishment. She had been vaguely aware of the hints that Galinda had been dropping, the casual promises she'd been making again and again. Yet it all still didn't really compute. She tried out several kinds of answers in her head but couldn't find the right one and ultimately remained silent. The other girl didn't seem to mind and merely looked back at her patiently.

"You… haven't finished your breakfast yet," Elphaba eventually pointed out uselessly.

The blonde chuckled mildly and shook her head.

"You're a hopeless case, do you know that?" she asked and proceeded to stagger to her feet. "I'll give you a moment to clean up and stuff. See you in the living room after?"

After blatantly staring for a moment, Elphaba managed a faint nod.

"Good girl," said Galinda and smiled encouragingly as she turned around. At the door, she risked one final glance at her roomie. "Take all the time you need, but don't dare standing me up, do you hear?" With that and a small wink she pulled her head out of the room and delicately closed the door.

Whereas Elphaba's heart had felt heavy and shiftless just a minute ago, it now gave an odd jump. Maybe opening up to Galinda wasn't so bad in the end, especially when she was allowed to do it at her own pace and volition. Maybe she was slowly yet surely getting used to it, and maybe it would prove a useful coping mechanism after all. For now at least.