#gelphaba

galinda liked mornings at shiz more than she admitted. not the early classes, not the cold floors, not the way the dorm windows always let in a draft no matter how many times she complained. but she liked this part the quiet before the day began, when the world felt soft and unhurried.

she stretched, blinked the sleep from her eyes, and rolled onto her side.

elphaba was already awake.

not reading. not scribbling notes. not practicing spells under her breath. just sitting on the edge of her bed, elbows on her knees, staring out the window as the first light touched the campus lawns.

her silhouette was still, thoughtful, almost gentle.

galinda’s breath caught before she could stop it.

“mornin,” she said, trying to sound casual.

elphaba turned, and the faintest smile tugged at her mouth. “youre up early.”

“youre up earlier.”

“that’s not unusual.”

galinda pushed her blanket aside and sat up. “still. you look… peaceful.”

elphaba raised an eyebrow. “peaceful?”

“well yes. or maybe contemplative. or oh, never mind.” galinda waved a hand, flustered. “you just look nice in the morning light.”

elphaba blinked startled. “nice?”

galinda felt her face warm. “i meant presentable. awake. not that you aren’t always—well”

elphaba’s smile grew small but unmistakably amused. “you don’t have to explain.”

galinda huffed crossing her arms. “you’re making fun of me.”

“only a little.”

the room fell into a comfortable quiet. galinda watched elphaba’s profile, the way the sunlight softened the sharp lines of her face. she’d never admit it out loud, but she liked seeing elphaba like this unguarded, unbothered, almost serene.

it made something warm settle in her chest.

“did you sleep?” galinda asked.

“some.” elphaba glanced at the desk, where a book lay open, and a half‑finished cup of tea had gone cold. “i was reading.”

“you always say that like it’s an excuse.”

“it usually is.”

galinda laughed softly. “you should let me make you tea that doesn’t taste like boiled sadness.”

elphaba snorted. “your tea tastes like sugar pretending to be tea.”

“that’s the point darling.”

galinda stood padded across the room and picked up the cold cup. “i’ll make you a new one.”

“you don’t have to.”

“ i know.” she set the cup aside and reached for the kettle. “but i want to.”

elphaba watched her for a moment, something unreadable in her expression. “you’re unusually kind this morning.”

galinda paused. “am i not usually kind?”

“you are.” elphaba hesitated. “just… this feels different.”

galinda swallowed. “different how?”

elphaba looked away. “i’m not sure yet.”

the kettle began to warm, filling the room with a soft hum. galinda leaned against the counter, suddenly aware of how close they were standing. close enough to feel the warmth radiating from elphaba’s skin. close enough to notice the faint scent of old books and mint that always clung to her.

close enough to realize her heart was beating too fast.

“elphie?” she said quietly.

elphaba’s eyes flicked to hers. “yes?”

galinda opened her mouth, then closed it again. she didn’t know what she’d meant to say. only that something was shifting between them something delicate, something new, something she wasn’t sure she should touch yet.

“nothing,” she said softly. “just… good morning.”

elphaba’s expression softened. “good morning, galinda.”

the kettle whistled, sharp and bright, breaking the moment. galinda turned away quickly, hoping elphaba hadn’t noticed the blush creeping up her neck.

but elphaba had noticed.

and she smiled a small, private smile meant for no one but herself.

because something was changing.

and she felt it too.

(authors note!!!)