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Elphaba buttons her shirts from the top down.

The first time you make this discovery, you've nearly walked in on her as she readies for bed in the bathroom. You go to turn away from the slightly ajar door, to give your roommate some privacy, but for some unfathomable reason you find yourself observing her instead.

She's just scrubbed herself down with one of her strange cleansing oils and sits on the edge of the tub, her back to you. Her skin glistens like pure emeralds, and you are entranced. But the beauty and color is not the only thing about her skin you notice.

Scars. Dozens of them, trailing along her back, all various sizes. Most of them have the discoloration of old burn wounds, but some, such as the one closer to the left, look like acts of violence brought on by another person.

You gasp, unable to control yourself, and Elphaba turns. When she spots you, her eyes widen and she quickly thrusts her arms through an oversized flannel shirt, not saying anything and avoiding your gaze. She then proceeds to button it, top to bottom. It seems everything your roommate does is odd and out of the norm, down to the way she dresses herself. You find it impossibly endearing.

Ashamed at having been caught spying, you quickly move across the room and sit on your bed, thoroughly shaken. You wonder where on earth those scars have come from, who could ever want to cause Elphaba physical harm. You also wonder if there are more scars on her front, as well…. The thought makes you shudder.

When Elphaba exits the bathroom, she is wearing only the flannel and no bottoms, as it reaches close to her knees. "Galinda," she says (you both dropped the formalities when you became close friends) "I'm quite sorry about that." She looks sincere, as ashamed as you feel.

You had been expecting any number of things. Anger, embarrassment, irritation with your overall stupidity and air-headedness. However, an apology was not one of the things you expected.

"I… I don't… what?" You stutter, rather gracelessly, and mentally slap yourself for the unladylike blather.

Elphaba sighs and sits on her own bed, fiddling with the threadbare covers. "I'm not blind, Galinda. I know my body and its overall greenness is quite unnerving and indeed very horrifying. I'm sorry you had to see it, in all its verdigris glory."

"Oh Elphie!" You gasp, "That couldn't be further from the truth! Quite the contrary, I think you're beautiful." You don't understand how anyone could find this entrancing, exotic green girl horrifying or unnerving in any way.

"No need to lie, Galinda; I know you saw the scars as well, and if those aren't disgusting then what is?" Elphaba directs her brown gaze to the floor, as if the plush off-white carpet has suddenly become very interesting. You shake your head and move swiftly across the room, perching delicately next to the green girl and gently touching her shoulder. She flinches and glances up at you.

"It's true your scars upset me," you begin, and Elphaba looks away again, shamed. "But not for the reasons you think. They don't draw away from your beauty; I doubt anything could. But the idea of anyone harming you causes me great distress, Elphie."

She frowns at you, forehead wrinkling, and you restrain yourself from telling her that ladies should not wrinkle their brows so. "Who said anyone harmed me?" she inquires defensively, eyes becoming guarded.

"Elphie, no one acquires that many scars by accident. Besides, this one closer to your left side looks suspiciously like a stab wound." You prod the area without thinking, and Elphba's whole body tenses up. You pull away quickly. "Oh, I'm so sorry, truly! Did I hurt you?"

"Of course not." But you know you did.

There's an uncomfortable silence in which you attempt to study your roommate's face, but she turns away, uncertain. "Are you going to tell me how you came about receiving them?" you murmur cautiously.

Another long, drawn-out pause, and you fear you've pushed too far. Just as Elphaba's silence becomes too much to bear, she murmurs, "My father hates me."

You let out a small "oh," of sadness and sympathy, and Elphaba disregards it, continuing. "He hates me for being green, for being a freak of nature. To him I'm sinful, hateful, a disgrace. He… when I was very small, he often acted upon his disgust for me. Physically."

You have no idea what to say, so you reply by resting your head on her shoulder. She becomes stiff upon the contact, but doesn't pull away, so you don't, either.

Now you understand why Elphaba is always so wary of others, why she didn't trust you at first. To have such a horrendicious childhood…. You can't fathom it.

It isn't until you feel her trembling that you realize she's crying. You are surprised, but then again you aren't. The only time Elphaba has ever cried was when she was unaware and unconscious, dreaming horrible dreams. But, she's just confessed to a truly devastating part of her childhood, something painful and emotional, and so you can understand her tears.

"Pretty girl," you sooth, holding her tightly around the shoulders with one arm, the opposite hand holding and stroking hers. "My sweet Elphie, it's all right. Let it out." And let it out she does.

When her tremors slow and sniffles quiet, you move to kneel in front of her. "Better?" you inquire.

"Quite," she agrees. "No one's ever called me pretty before."

"Well why in Oz not?" you demand rhetorically, "It's entirely true."

And then something amazing happens. Elphaba's cheeks turn a darker shade of emerald (A blush? Could it be?) and she smiles. She doesn't smirk, or leer, or even sneer. She really, truly smiles, with her eyes and the works.

And she has dimples. Dimples.

As you smile back and brush the remaining tears away from her mildly burned cheeks, you realize something.

You are horribly enamored with your strange, wonderful green roommate.