It was twilight in the Emerald City. The streets were lined with snow and the brightness of the city was somehow muted in the snow and dimming light. Glinda the Good had not come to the Emerald City in many years.
They slept together on the train, sharing a small travel bed and curling up together under the dirty sheets. Glinda could feel the heat from her body and she ached to touch her- to hold her- but she didn’t dare move.
She left the shop and walked down the street, her footsteps slowed and muffled in the new snow. The street was crowded as the masses pooled into them as the workday ended and everyone made their way home. A cloaked and hooded figure stepped out of a shop and Glinda turned sharply; was that a flash of green skin?
No, just a trick of the light.
Glinda lay, half-awake, her third night, desperately trying to forget about her soft, smooth black hair, her open, parted mouth. She closed her eyes tightly and the train bumped suddenly, sending her reeling into Elphaba’s open arms. She thought she could hear her heart beating in the whole of the room, then realized that it was not her heart she heard.
Glinda hurried her pace; night was falling fast and she had dinner reservations. She returned to her hotel, tired and out of breath. She dropped her purchases on the hotel table and moved away to draw a bath; one bag spilled open and a lace veil fell onto the waiting chair.
She never could remember who began it, though it didn’t matter then. They were pressing close, ridding themselves of clothing and devouring each other’s mouths. They didn’t speak; not a cry to the Unnamed God or a breathless plea of the other’s name. They breathed harshly and moaned softly, twisting together and touching; awkwardly, newly.
She stepped into the hot water and slowly sank into the marble tub. The water turned her pale skin pink and she wrapped her arms around herself and began to cry.
“I love you,” Glinda murmured sleepily.
“I wish I could love you...” Elphaba had replied softly.