Chapter Text
“Are you gonna take my card or what?”
Elphaba blinked, looking up at the woman’s questioning expression. “Right. Sorry.”
Cheeks warming, she slid the card through the machine and printed the receipt. As the woman took the paper, the fresh ink of her tattoo peeking out from under her sleeve, Elphaba’s eyes caught on the ring again.
It was an oval setting, obscenely large, and brilliantly cut. The bright light from the window caught it perfectly, reflections glinting up from the polished facets. The band was platinum. Or silver? Wasn’t white gold a thing too? Why would anyone want white gold anyway? Wasn’t the whole point of gold that it was…gold?
The ring flashed in the late afternoon sunlight as the woman signed her name across the receipt and slid it back across the counter to her.
“Have a great day!” A male voice called out from beside her. Her gaze cut down, landing on the cheeky smile on Brev’s face. By the time she looked up again, the woman was waving as she exited the shop.
“Boss, you gotta get it together.”
She bristled. “I am the definition of put together.”
He rolled his eyes, wheeling back from under the front desk, a new stack of waivers in his lap.
“The ring you got Glinda is perfect. Don’t overthink it.”
“I don’t overthink.”
Another eyeroll. “Sure. And I’m the Wizard.”
Before she could retort, because she did have a retort, he disappeared back behind the half wall separating the front desk from the rest of the studio. They were the only two artists in the shop and the silence in his wake was nearly thunderous. Reaching under the desk, she let her fingers trace over the little velvet box. The edges were smooth, the corners rounded, and a metal hinge was cold against her skin.
“Nerves aren’t a good look on you.”
She startled, whirling around so fast that her hand knocked into the wooden side of the desk, pain lancing up her arm.
“Shit!” She cradled the injured hand, shaking it out with a wince. “Brev! What have we said about sneaking up on me?!”
He shrugged, sliding the excess waiver forms back under the counter. The artists weren’t supposed to keep any at their stations. She’d have to talk to him later when her hand stopped throbbing and she could properly think.
“It’s not my fault that Carina likes to oil my wheels. She says the squeaking wakes the dogs up.”
“Carina should be more invested in keeping me from an early grave,” Elphaba muttered.
“Then the shop would be mine.”
“Ha!” She scoffed. “Over my dead body.”
“That’s the idea.”
She blinked at him, hand still pulsing. “You know what? I’m closing up for the day. Get out.”
Brev merely laughed, wheeling himself back around the front of the desk. “You say that as if that wasn’t our last client and we usually have drop in hours on Tuesdays.”
Rolling her eyes, she reached over to turn the computer off. “Goodbye, Brev.”
There was a beat of silence. No wisecracks, no suspiciously squeak-less roll of wheels over the threshold of the front door. She looked up, blinking when her gaze landed on his. Normally cemented in a cocky smirk, his expression had smoothed into something almost sincere. A shiver tingled at the base of her neck but she refused to blink.
“Seriously though, she’s going to love the ring.”
“I know,” She said haughtily. “I’m not worried about it.”
He shook his head with a light chuckle, turning towards the door. “You don’t have to play brave with me, E. I’ve known you since Oz dragged your sorry starving ass off the street.”
Elphaba watched him collect his bag from the couch near the door, brushing a stray piece of lint from the fabric. Something tight and hot coiled in her chest, a weight that kept her lungs from fully inflating.
“Hey, Brev?”
“Yeah?” He turned to face her, one eyebrow raised.
“If she says yes--”
“She will.”
“If she says yes,” Elphaba continued with a glare. “Will you…be there for me?”
The eyebrow climbed even higher. “Elphaba Thropp, are you asking me to be your bridesmaid?”
The tightness constricted, squeezing around her heart. “Yes?”
“Before you’ve even asked the girl to marry you?”
“I thought you said she’d say yes!”
He cackled. A real, head tilted back, stomach shaking cackle. Scowling, she crossed her arms and glared at him.
“I swear to Oz, I’ll raise your artist fees.”
Wiping a tear away, he snorted. “No you won’t. And yes, I will.”
“You’ll what?”
“Be a bridesman, or whatever it is you have at lesbian weddings.”
“I’m not--” She cut herself off with a sigh. There was no point. A ghost of a smile tugged at the corner of her lips. “Thank you.”
He smiled at her then, a softening of his cheeks and warming in his eyes. “Goodbye, E.”
“Bye,” she called as he slipped out the door, the lock clicking behind him.
Hands twitching, she shoved the ring box into her dress pocket and strode to the back of the store before she could think better of it. Laid out across her giant desk were a dozen or so half-finished paper flowers. They glowed yellow in the low lamplight, each a promise waiting to be made, a gift waiting to be given.
She almost reached for one, but stopped herself. She really should sketch for her appointments later in the week. And she had about four flash sheets to catch up on, not to mention there was a Friday the 13th next month. Sighing, she dragged over her sketch book and thumbed through it. None of the designs were final, as she often did those on a tablet or at least a separate piece of paper. But, in all her years of tattooing, she’d never quite lost the preference for using pencil to jot down her ideas. All the other artists in the shop seemed quite taken with their tablets and apps and fancy non-pencils, but she just couldn’t get her creativity to flow without real graphite in her hands.
This particular book was almost full, just about ready to join the hoard of identical ones on her personal shelf in the office/staff lounge space. Each sketch had a name or description at the top, indicating who the design was for and when their appointment was. Any instructions or inspiration was also added there, written in her cramped handwriting to preserve as much page space for actual drawing. The most recent one had “Green braids and lip piercing--Ozian traditional eye crying the galaxy” written at the top. Not the most original design, but “green braids and lip piercing” girl had at least given her full reign over color and composition, which would be fun. She’d sketched out the basic shape of an eye sometime that morning, the start of a dark purple space scene half blocked in color in the tear track. Grabbing the same colored pencil, she set her chin in her hand and tried to work.
The pencil was hard under her teeth, rolling between her lips as she stared at the half-finished design. The page stared back at her, almost taunting in its incompleteness. Her foot began to bounce under the desk, an incessant tap tap tap that only served to irritate her further, and she was the one doing it! What if her plan didn’t go well? What if Glinda hated the ring? What if she wasn’t ready or was just biding her time for when she should gently break Elphaba’s heart and move out?
Groaning, she closed the sketchbook and slid it to sit back to its dejected corner of her desk. Leaning back in her chair, she steadfastly ignored the square shaped lump in her pocket, instead grabbing for the nearest flower. A daffodil. Letting out a long breath, she let her fingers work over the paper with familiar ease.
Fold corner to corner.
She’s going to love the ring.
Crease that line.
You spent months designing it.
Slip that corner into that pocket.
You even custom ordered the stone so it would go with all her dresses.
Flip over, repeat those steps.
She loves you. She’s said so a million times.
Pop out the petals.
She wants to marry you. You want to marry her. That’s been said a million times too.
By the time the nervous energy had drained from her chest, a small pile of folded daffodils sat in front of her. Elphaba twirled one in her fingers, eyeing the way the white petals curved cheerily out from the center.
“She’ll say yes, right? It’s going to be perfect?”
The flower did not answer.
Her phone, however, did.
Babygirl: Cadis wants to drag me to some new experimental restaurant on Friday. Can you either promise you’ll be there or give me some fantastic reason not to go?
Elphaba smiled, chest warming.
Elphie: Unfortunately I’ve got an appointment on Friday. Besides, what reason could I possibly provide seeing as we live together?
Babygirl: I don't know, Elphie! Maybe that client needs an architectural consult?
Elphie: Yes baby I’m sure Cadis will absolutely believe that
Elphie: Why don’t you want to go?
Babygirl: I haven’t told him about the promotion yet and I just know he’s going to see right through me.
Elphie: Fair. He’s good at that
Babygirl: Ugh! Can’t you go for me? He never seems to get anything out of you. I don’t know how you do it.
Elphaba looked around the darkened office, eyeing the myriad of flowers in various mediums, all in different states of completion. Each one held a silent vigil to the emotional war that waged inside her head and found its outlet through her hands.
Elphie: Yep, that’s me. Famously unflappable and perfect
Babygirl: Cocky
Elphie: Why don’t you leave work early and come find out just how cocky I can be?
Glinda’s little typing bubbles appeared, disappeared, and reappeared about three times before a message finally came through.
Babygirl: I’ll be home in 10
Elphaba bit back a smirk, feeling the familiar banter settle some of the nerves in her chest. Closing the thread, she thumbed over to another conversation.
Elphaba: You know the plan for Friday?
Pain In The AssTM: Obviously. Why do you think I made sure to mention that it’s an experimental restaurant? She’ll be so concerned about where I’m taking her that she won’t have any time to wonder what you’re up to
Elphaba: And Adassi knows to be here at 6?
Pain In The AssTM: Have you met my husband? Of course he knows
Pain In The AssTM: By the way, did you ever change my name in your phone?
Elphaba: Nope. It’s still what he lovingly set it to at your reception
Pain In The AssTM: That bastard. I want a divorce
She chuckled, shaking her head as she stood up and stretched. The muscles in her shoulders protested, straining to keep her in the hunched position she’d been in all day. Really, all her life. Tattooing did not lend itself to good posture.
She rolled out the joints, wincing. Glinda probably had some fancy stretching techniques she could share. For Oz’s sake, she hadn’t even tattooed today! Her entire day had been administrative work and sketches for her weekend clients.
And, of course, nervously folding paper daffodils every time she caught a glimpse of the custom pink ring box under the counter.
The ring box that was currently warm in her pocket. Elphaba tensed, back straightening.
The ring box that was currently in her pocket!
Her eyes snapped to her watch, stumbling as she rushed back into the shop, yanking the box from her dress and practically throwing it into the drawer under the register. Just then, the front door lock clicked, a bell tingling as someone stepped inside the studio.
Leveling her breathing, Elphaba stood up behind the counter, leaning forward to rest her crossed arms on the cool glass. Glinda fumbled with her keys and bags, cursing as she tried to close and lock the door behind her. It gave Elphaba one precious moment to slow her heart rate before warm brown eyes found hers.
“Hey princess,” she said with a smile. “You’re home early.”
Glinda narrowed her eyes, unceremoniously dropping her bags to the floor. Without another word, she stormed forward, blonde curls flying behind her as she crossed the room in record time.
Pink nails scraped against Elphaba’s chest as Glinda curled her fists into the front of her dress and yanked her bodily over the counter. Elphaba went willingly, laughing as her girlfriend pulled her into a bruising kiss.
The angle was terrible, really. They were both leaning against the counter, the sharp edge cutting against their skin. Still, Glinda’s lips were warm and her breath was short, and Elphaba had known exactly what she was doing when she picked this particular dress for the day.
“You damn--” Glinda interrupted herself with a kiss down Elphaba’s neck. “Tease.”
“Oh, am I?” Elphaba shifted so her hip pressed the register drawer the rest of the way closed before walking around the counter to pull Glinda in close. “How so?”
Her girlfriend huffed, hands roaming to palm at her shoulder blades, nails digging into her skin. “You know.”
Those hands traveled lower, grabbing at her lower back then settling on her hips. Restless fingers played with the fabric of her dress, slipping the soft cotton back and forth where it flared out over her thighs.
Elphaba grinned. “Oh, you mean how I intentionally got up at the same time as you and put on your favorite dress just to send you off to work with nothing more than a kiss?”
“Yes,” Glinda muttered. “That.” She whined a little, pulling at Elphaba’s hips. “I never get to see you in dresses!”
“It’s not often that I don’t have any clients in a day, cutie.”
“Elphie.” Her girlfriend looked up at her, brow furrowed and lips pouting. “Take me upstairs.”
A terrible fondness swelled in Elphaba’s chest. A warm, syrupy feeling that seeped into all her veins and stuck under her skin. It was almost unbelievable how tangible her love for this woman was.
Five years. Five years of unconditional support. Five years of never wondering who would be there for her in a crisis. Five years of cracking open all the boxes of feelings gathering dust in the back of her mind and hesitantly sharing them out into the light. Five years of being seen, held, and truly loved.
Five years of bright sunshine smiles and warm kisses. Five years of learning all the cracks and dark corners of the most amazing woman she had ever met. Five years of finding new ways to make her smile or hear her laugh. Five years of knowing, beyond any doubt, that she wanted to spend the rest of her life making this woman happy.
The sticky feeling in her chest collected in her throat, a lump that choked up her words and stuttered her breathing. Too overcome to try speaking, and knowing it would come out stilted and uncoordinated anyway, Elphaba simply slid her hands under her girlfriend’s lovely thighs, and hoisted her up into the air.
Shrieking, Glinda broke into giggles as she wrapped her legs around Elphaba’s hips. “Elphie!”
Elphaba let the sound wash over her, rumbling her approval against Glinda’s warm chest. She felt hands gripping at her shoulders, sliding down to not so subtly grab at her biceps. Smirking, she pressed a kiss to the center of Glinda’s chest, breathing slowly around the dissipating lump in her throat. Couldn’t let her girlfriend catch her fumbling for a line, could she?
“Pretty girl,” she murmured softly. “I’ve got plans for you.”
Glinda giggled again, her chest warming as she blushed and tightened her grip. Elphaba held her a little tighter and walked them both over to the stairs, leaving the bags on the floor to be dealt with later.
She had, after all, worn the dress on purpose and did, unsurprisingly, have plans for her girlfriend.
oOo
It didn’t feel like enough. What if it wasn’t enough?
Was there a better or bigger way to show Glinda how she felt? What if she’d forgotten some moment or date that was actually Glinda’s most treasured memory and then she’d be so disappointed when she couldn’t find it and Elphaba would just be the most awful, horrible, thoughtless girlfriend ever and--
“You’re thinking awfully loud over there.” Adassi’s voice was level, calm, and even like it always was. He was looking at a picture over Brev’s station.
Elphaba did a quick mental check of her body. No unnecessary tightness in her shoulders. Her stance was loose and just casual enough to be believable. Her face wasn’t pinched, lips not pressed, eyebrows passive. What had he seen?
She made no move to change her posture or acknowledge him. After a beat, he dusted his hands and turned back towards her. His beard had recently been trimmed and someone, probably Cadis, had left a stray rhinestone by his left cheek. A smile tugged at her lips.
“You’ve got a--”
“I know.” He looked at her then, one eyebrow raised. “Do you know how loud you think?”
She scoffed. “I do not.”
“Sure. I’ll let you believe that. Do you want to talk about it?”
Her arms tightened, ever so slightly. “There’s nothing to talk about.”
He gave her a soft, private smile. “You know, I was a nervous wreck before I proposed to Cadis.”
“I don’t get nervous.” Her shoulders tensed.
“I know that’s what you want everyone to think.” He shrugged, turning back to survey the shop. “I won’t pry. That job is better suited for my husband anyway.”
Elphaba’s shoulders lowered half an inch.
“But--”
They rose again.
Adassi kept his eyes forward. “If you were nervous, I’d tell you that it’s completely natural. It’s a big moment, even if we all know what she’s going to say.”
Elphaba bit back her arguments, choosing instead to let out a breath, forcing her shoulders down where they belonged. That earned her a quiet chuckle, Adassi turning to face her with a twinkle in his eye.
“There you go.”
She huffed, tucking a braid behind her ear. “Don’t get cocky about it now.”
“Not really my style,” he said with a shrug. “You’ll have to call Cadis if you want the brazen I-told-you-so attitude.”
“I’d rather sit on a beehive,” she muttered darkly.
Adassi slung his backpack over his shoulder, looking around the shop one last time. “I think my work here is done.”
“The decorations were done ages ago.”
“That’s not what I meant.” He considered her for a moment, head tilted and eyes sharp. “It’s okay to let us in every now and then. We’ll always be here to support you.”
A dozen quips died on her tongue, swallowed down by sheer force of will. There was no way to deny or cover it up now, so why bother trying? Still, the vulnerability of it made her skin crawl and her palms itch.
He stepped out with barely a nod, just a half smile left on his lips. The door closed behind him as a soft “good luck” faded out into the night.
Elphaba rocked back on her heels, running another check of herself. Shoulders? Tense. Hands? Fidgeting. Heart? Racing. Head? Busy. She groaned.
How had Adassi dismantled her so easily? Broken through her little act, exposing the raw emotions underneath. Just a few minutes ago, she was perfectly composed! But noooo. One conversation with her friend-turned-amateur-therapist and she was shaking like a leaf!
“Cadis should ask for that divorce,” she grumbled to no one.
Well, nothing left to do but wait. She checked her watch, grimacing when she saw just how much longer there was to go. Wiping her hands on her dress, she walked stiffly over to her station, sitting gingerly on her rolling stool. One foot bounced nervously, her bottom lip caught between her teeth.
The shop was quiet and dimly lit, devoid of all her typical distractions and outlets. No Brev joking loudly from his custom built table or low chatter from waiting tattoo clients. No traded jabs between Jinjur and Alor as they competed to have the highest tip of the day. No jingle of the bell over the door or waiting sketch to keep her hands busy.
She’d never liked the quiet. Quiet meant she would be able to hear every shouted word from her father, every creak of the stairs as he moved about the house. Quiet meant she was alone with her thoughts, alone with her fears. Elphaba had spent more than enough time alone; she felt no need to sit with it now.
What was there to be nervous about? Glinda wanted to marry her. She had said so multiple times. On sleepy phone calls before they moved in together, after sex while still panting and delirious, as a loud declaration after Elphaba brought a bouquet to the grand reopening of Boq’s store. For years, Glinda had said she wanted to marry her. Offhandedly, simply, easily, as if it was the most innocent, obvious truth in the world.
Why, then, was she falling apart?
To absolutely no one’s surprise, it took a lot of work to maintain the cool and calm exterior that she projected. Some half-wit therapist that her father had hired to fix her had once said that it was a defense mechanism. A way to keep her real self hidden so she would never get hurt.
At the time, Elphaba had thought it was a load of horseshit. Now, thirty and further removed from her father every day, she was sure it was horseshit.
She had no trouble sharing her feelings, no problem opening up to Glinda on that very first day in the studio. Her ugly, broken pieces were all there for anyone who cared enough to look. They were readily seen for anyone who made her feel safe enough to share them.
Really, the confidence was just who she wanted to be. Was it so wrong to want to be the strong, suave, smooth woman that she had read about in her fairytales? She could be vulnerable, and she could let people in. Truly, she could!
The therapist would probably have something to say about that interpretation too. Oh well. Elphaba had never put much stock in therapy anyway. This was just who she was. The confidence gave her the courage to fail, and the silver tongue let her match wits with anyone, friend or foe, who came her way. She had no shortage of tasks and hobbies and responsibilities to keep her hands busy when her head got too full, and the emotions always worked their way through her when she was ready.
Still…Elphaba dug her nails into her knee, shaking her head. She’d never proposed before. In fact, she’d never asked her girlfriend to do anything of importance. It had been Glinda who asked her out. Glinda who initiated their first time having sex. Glinda who asked if she could move in.
This was the first big step that Elphaba was initiating, and so yes, maybe she was a little nervous about it!
“Get it together.”
She shook her head again, ears ringing. A glint of white caught her eye, drawing her frantic gaze towards Brev’s station. There, under his table, was the stack of consent forms. Her fingers twitched, a surge of restless, nervous energy demanding somewhere to go. Leaning over, she snagged the stack of printed forms and dropped them unceremoniously onto her tattoo chair. They slid sideways, scattering over the black surface. Without thinking, she grabbed a piece and set her over-active hands to work.
The motions came easily, second nature after all these years. Fold one corner, open the pocket, make a crease. Elphaba worked the papers into various complex shapes, letting the motions soothe the aching corners of her mind. Minutes could have passed, or maybe hours. It did not matter. Slowly, her heart rate evened, her breaths deepened, the racing of her mind calmed. By the time the stack of forms was gone, she was able to breathe without feeling it catch in her chest and able to think without spiraling.
In front of her sat more than a dozen folded paper daffodils, the petals marked with the incoherent text of her tattoo consent form. Rolling her eyes with a chuckle, Elphaba scooped the papers into her arms and turned to drop them in the trashcan. Only, she didn’t make it that far.
Because there, staring wide-eyed around the shop, was Glinda.
Any calm that Elphaba had gained from folding the flowers dissipated in half a heartbeat. Her stomach leapt into her throat, white noise buzzing in her ears. The flowers crinkled in her arms as she tightened her grip. Glinda still wasn’t looking at her, too busy surveying the room from where she was rooted in place by the half wall.
Elphaba’s eyes cut to her phone, lying on her station. Sure enough, the screen was lit up with messages still actively flying through.
Pain In The AssTM: Leaving the restaurant now
Pain In The AssTM: Be there in twenty minutes
Pain In The AssTM: Elphaba? Did you see this?
Pain In The AssTM: ELPHABA CHECK YOUR PHONE
Pain In The AssTM: Glinda is asking who I am texting at every red light! You better have fucking seen this!!
Pain In The AssTM: She’s walking in!!!
Pain In The AssTM: SHE IS IN THE BUILDING ELPHABA YOU BETTER BE DOWN THERE OR I SWEAR TO OZ
Shit.
Elphaba must have done something in this life or another to piss off whatever god existed, because it was right at that moment that Glinda finally turned to look at her. Brown eyes snagged immediately on the haphazard bundle of consent form daffodils in her arms, then the panicked look in her eyes.
One flower lost its fight with gravity and toppled out of her arms, falling slowly to the floor. Elphaba, helplessly frozen in place, could only watch as Glinda’s amused gaze followed its downward spiral. With the ease of someone far too confident that they had the upper hand, Glinda bent to scoop up the flower and hold out towards her.
“You dropped this.”
Elphaba bravely bit back an indignant squawk, instead letting a cocky smirk fall over her lips. Her heart thundered in her chest, but this was a role she knew well.
“Pretty girl giving me a flower? How could I say no?” She very pointedly did not address the armful of flowers still balanced precariously in her grip.
Glinda’s eyes twinkled. “Ah, yes, the most romantic of gestures. A paper daffodil made out of--” she tilted the paper, one eyebrow raising. “--tattoo consent forms?”
Elphaba winced, taking a hesitant step backwards to dump the rest of the flowers back on her tattoo chair. “I, uh--”
Shrugging, Glinda tucked the flower into her curls and gestured around the shop. “Perhaps you’d like to show me around?”
A task. A direction. Somewhere to go from this floundering mess she’d made of the introduction.
“Yes, I would.”
She stepped around the tattoo chair, casually drifting one hand over the black surface to wipe the sweat from her palm. Glinda’s eyes turned to the rest of the room, a small smile popping out her dimple.
Elphaba’s planned speech was more suited for after Glinda looked at all the pictures. It was more of a museum exhibit. Explore and learn at your own pace. So, she gestured around the room.
“Take a look.”
Glinda did.
Pictures hung on every wall, fitted into every empty space. Over Brev’s station there were frozen moments from their travels. Glinda looking up at a picturesque mountain sunset, her golden curls blowing gently in the wind. Glinda browsing the chocolates in a candy shop while Elphaba snuck back to take the picture of her with powdered sugar at the corner of her mouth. Elphaba screaming with laughter as she burst out of the freezing cold lake they had found in the Glikkus. A picnic blanket under a tree with only their held hands visible in the shot. The Gillikin mountains and shops from Glinda’s home town of Frottica. It had taken her nearly three years to return without breaking down over her parents’ silence, and Elphaba had never been more proud of a person as she was when the blonde walked back through those iron gates.
Jinjur’s station had all their birthdays. Pictures from each party each year. The scrabble tournament Glinda had won on her 23rd birthday even though she’d accidentally smeared carrot cake and cream cheese icing across half the tiles. The Queer Icons drag show Elphaba had participated in for her 27th (and the wide-eyed look on Glinda’s face that had resulted in Elphaba’s first ever sick day from work owing to the fact that she couldn’t walk down the stairs the next morning). Cadis’ monstrosity of a dessert bar from his birthday/bachelor party that had definitely not needed to be combined. One of Glinda’s work friends, Griffin, had invited them to a “free art” birthday party, and the picture of Elphaba and Glinda flinging paint at each other had made it onto the wall. Someone had even gotten a shot of them kissing under the stars in Cadis and Adassi’s backyard--just their silhouettes--at Elphaba’s 30th, only a few months ago.
Various date pictures hung above Alor’s station. Their first trip to the beach. Elphaba’s scrunched brow as she read over an incorrect placard at the Ozian History Museum. Glinda’s delighted grin at the Emerald City Zoo’s butterfly pavilion as about fifty butterflies perched on her orange and pink dress. A blurry shot of the first Jaded Wood Duck that Elphaba had ever seen, with an even blurrier picture of her falling headfirst into the stream as Glinda nearly collapsed with laughter behind the camera. Their first double date with Cadis and Adassi, only a few weeks after making their relationship official. It was one of Elphaba’s favorites. Cadis and Glinda were in the midst of a spirited debate, Cadis lounging back with a haughty smirk as Glinda was halfway out of her seat, leaning across the table with an indignant, affronted look on her face. Adassi was beside Cadis, making direct eye contact with the camera as he lifted his glass in a mock toast.
Over her own desk hung all the most precious pictures. Glinda asleep on a Sunday morning, dawn light turning her hair to spun gold. Their first date, a snapshot of clasped hands across a white tablecloth. A group shot from the reopening of Boq’s store, Glinda holding tightly to the bouquet of flowers Elphaba had brought her. Their table at Cadis and Adassi’s wedding, featuring Boq, Brev, Carina, and a few others from the store’s remodeling. A warm latte with a heart in the foam sitting in front of a snowy window from their first winter together. Elphaba tearing up in Dulcibear’s embrace when they reunited barely a year ago, Glinda behind the camera and somehow crying even harder than either of them.
There were dozens more. Too many to name, too many to take in. It had been a monumental effort to collect, organize, and hang them all with various friends assisting at different stages of the process. By this point, Glinda was the only one who didn’t know about her plan. Which, by the way, was not how Elphaba liked to play things. She’d initially kept the proposal quite close to the chest, always intent on maintaining her air of mystery and intrigue. However, when she’d exhausted her camera roll and only found about half the moments she really wanted to highlight, she had no choice but to branch out.
Now, she and Glinda stood in the middle of it all. While the greatest clusters of photos were grouped around the artists’ stations for ease, the spaces in between were hardly empty. There, Adassi had hung pictures of all their friends and found family. A snapshot of Boq on the day he bought the empty building that would later become his pride and joy. Griffin and Alora from Glinda’s architectural firm, grinning and paint covered in front of a new city mural. Brev and Carina in a blurry photo from their wedding, looking decades younger but just as happy and in love. Cadis and Adassi waving from a riverside lodge, both shirtless with water in their hair. Many of the pictures showed moments they never even witnessed, but were pivotal in their friends’ lives. Moments that aligned with the key memories Elphaba had chosen for them.
Glinda turned slowly, eyes tracing over the pictures. Elphaba watched her carefully, noting when she gasped, where she smiled, and how often her eyes swelled with tears. The ring box sat heavy in her pocket, warming against her skin. She slid a hand alongside it, fingers closing around the hard corners. Beats passed, nothing in her head but the thunder of her heart.
It was perfect. It had to be perfect. Adassi had spent hours hanging the fairy lights and helping her tape the hundreds of pictures to the walls. Cadis, Boq, and Griffin had spent weeks helping her collect and print the pictures, often picking them up from the photographer and dropping them off while the blonde was at work.
Elphaba swallowed, slipping the box from her pocket and gripping it tightly. She was glad she’d worn her braids down today, anything to hide the gathering of sweat on the back of her neck. Just then, Glinda turned back to look at her, eyes shining.
“Elphie…”
Her mouth went impossibly dry. This was it. The moment. She’d written something, a perfect and succinct encapsulation of her feelings and this monumental question she was asking. But, there in the studio with the evidence of their life surrounding her, none of it seemed good enough.
“Glinda,” she began, hyperaware that she was about to go off script, helpless to do anything but hope her voice wouldn’t shake. “You are the best thing that has ever happened to me. When you walked into my studio all those years ago, I had resigned myself to never really finding love and I was okay with that. But you…you changed everything.”
She took a deep breath, steadying her heart just enough to keep going. Glinda was still staring at her, eyes wide and lips slightly parted.
“You make me feel safe to be myself, broken parts included. You are whip-smart and unfairly funny, and I think making you laugh might be my favorite pastime.”
Glinda smiled at her then, reaching up to wipe at a tear. “Elphie…”
Elphaba smiled back, a familiar fluttering in her chest helping to settle the roiling of her stomach. She gestured around the room.
“I wanted to show you how important you are. Not just to me, but to all our friends. You are such an incredible, irreplaceable presence and you have made all of our lives richer just by being in them.”
She stepped backwards, framing herself between the shop bathroom and the curtained entrance to her office.
“From the very first moment we met, I knew you were special.”
Glinda laughed at that, shaking her head. “You couldn’t possibly have known how this would go.”
“No,” she smiled. She’d known exactly how Glinda would respond and she’d prepared. “But I knew it was something worth following.” Reaching into the staff room, she pulled a hidden sketch off the wall. The paper was still crisp and clean, having been kept safe and undisturbed in one of her most treasured sketchbooks for the last five years.
Glinda stepped forward to take it, eyes immediately catching on the cramped handwriting right at the top.
“‘Adventure and brown eyes’?” She looked up at Elphaba, brows raised. “What does that mean?”
“Look.”
Glinda did, eyes dropping further down the page. Elphaba knew what she was seeing. A small black and white drawing of herself, sitting at the front couch in the shop. Below that, several sketches of lavender and violets, curving up into the iconic wing shapes that now adorned Glinda’s chest. At the bottom of the page, writing in a slow, careful hand, was one line.
For when she’s ready
“I knew,” Elphaba said quietly. “I knew, that day, that you were going to be something--someone--worth paying attention to. I knew you’d show me something amazing, whatever that may be. You were going to offer me an adventure, if I decided to accept.”
When Glinda looked up, the brown in her eyes had gone impossibly soft behind her tears.
“Now, I am standing here between the place you asked me out and the place I first kissed you--”
“I’m pretty sure I kissed you--”
“AND,” Elphaba cut in, “I have never been more thankful that I decided to see where your adventure might take me. I am a better person for knowing you and my life has never been more full.”
Biting back a smile, Glinda took a step towards her. Elphaba tightened her grip on the ring box, hyperaware of every sensation. The tiled floor under her boot, the swish of her skirt against her legs, the tickle of braids on her back, the soft glow of the fairy lights as they bathed Glinda in an ethereal light.
Slowly, carefully, she knelt down, never once taking her eyes off that brown gaze that had captivated her all those years ago. Glinda blinked quickly, beaming down at her.
“These last five years have been the best of my life because I have had the privilege of spending them with you. Making you happy is my greatest joy, and I’d like to do it for the rest of my life if you’ll permit me.” She opened the ring box, revealing the rose-cut pink diamond set into a silver band. “Glinda Upland, will you marry me?”
There was a terrible beat of silence, a hesitation that Elphaba had not accounted for. Her pulsed roared in her ears, a terrifying panic creeping at the edges of her mind. That sweet smile she loved so much tilted up at the corner, dimple popping. Without looking away, Glinda slipped a hand into the pocket of her dress, withdrawing a black velvet box. Elphaba’s stomach leapt into her throat. She knelt too, leaving her eye-level with Elphaba, box held out.
“Only if you’ll marry me back.” She lifted the lid, revealing a gold banded ring, two lines of metal swooping above and below an inlaid smooth green stone. It was thin with no sharp corners or prongs, the kind of ring she could safely wear under her tattooing gloves.
Her breath caught in her lungs, eyes flicking between Glinda’s and the ring. She had not planned for this. Had not anticipated this possible outcome. Everyone had reassured her that Glinda would say yes, promising that there was no way she’d answer with anything but. Even so, Elphaba had prepared for that possible ‘no.’ She’d practiced an apology to the bathroom mirror, turning the words over and over until she was sure she could say them without her voice breaking, just in case everything went terribly wrong.
Nothing, nothing, had prepared her for the possibility that Glinda may respond to her question with a question of her own.
“I--” she swallowed, forcing her lungs to take in a sharp, shallow breath. “I asked you first.”
Glinda laughed then, a beautiful, musical sound that cut through the fog in Elphaba’s mind. When she looked back at her, eyes twinkling mischievously, Elphaba’s heart lurched.
“Of course I’ll marry you.”
Something cracked in her chest, releasing the anxiety that had been dancing in her ribcage for weeks. She felt her lips spread in a smile, a rather unconscious effect that seemed to happen around the blonde whether Elphaba wanted it to or not.
“And I’ll marry you.”
Glinda beamed at her.
Hands no longer trembling, Elphaba carefully slid the pink diamond ring onto her fiancé’s finger, holding out her left hand for Glinda to do the same. The rings glinted up at them, side by side as their fingers brushed.
“Pink goes good with green,” Glinda mused.
“Goes well with green,” Elphaba corrected, also enthralled by the sight.
When she looked back up, those adventurous brown eyes were shining at her.
“It so does.”
Now it was Elphaba’s turn to laugh, shaking her head as she pulled Glinda to standing before yanking her in for a kiss. The blonde folded into her, hardly able to kiss back around her grin. It was messy and awkward and misaligned.
It was perfect.
After a beat, Elphaba gave up with a chuckle. For a moment, they just stood there, hearts racing and foreheads pressed together. The soft tickle of Glinda’s breath on her cheek made her squirm. Pulling back, she laughed at the breathless, hungry look in her fiancé’s eyes.
Blushing, she lifted her hand to admire the ring. “I have to ask, how did you manage this?”
Glinda preened. “I’ve had the ring for months. I just wanted to wait for the perfect moment. With Cadis acting all squirrely about our plans tonight and ensuring almost every day that I was still going, it wasn’t hard to guess you might be planning something. I simply put the ring in my purse before I left.”
Elphaba groaned. “That feather brain. I knew I should have had Adassi take you to dinner instead.”
Her fiancé merely laughed and pressed a quick kiss to her lips before entangling their hands again.
“Now, I have to ask--”
“Oh no.”
“What’s with the consent form daffodils?”
Oh, Elphaba wanted to kiss that shit-eating grin right off her face. She felt her cheeks warm up as she looked away, suddenly very interested in one of the pictures taped to the wall.
“I was nervous.”
“Nervous? You?”
“Yes.”
“The great Elphaba Thropp, womanizer--”
“I am not--”
“Bisexual goddess, flirting expert, tattoo artist extraordinaire was nervous to ask me something I’ve said for years that I wanted to do?” One blonde brow arched upwards.
Green eyes narrowed at her. “You know I get nervous sometimes!”
“Never about me!” Glinda protested. “You’ve never been anything but cocky when it came to us! You called me good girl at my first tattoo appointment for Oz’s sake!”
Elphaba scoffed, rolling her eyes. “That slipped out. And you liked it.”
“Beside the point.”
“I think it’s very much the point actually--”
“Oh my Oz.” Glinda cut her off, eyes going wide. “You folded the flowers because you were nervous?”
Elphaba blinked at her. “Yes. To give my hands something to do so my head wouldn’t explode.”
“Is that why I came into the shop and the entire thing was covered in paper daffodils?!” Her voice had raised half an octave, mouth hanging open.
Brow furrowing, Elphaba looked around her to survey the shop. Just the pictures and the few anxiety flowers on her tattoo chair.
“The shop isn’t--”
“No, the first time!” Pale hands flew up to cover her mouth, brown eyes sparkling. “Oh, my Oz, it was!”
The first time? When was she--oh. Oh no. Elphaba felt her cheeks burn, blood rushing under her skin. No, no, no.
“Ah!” Glinda shrieked, grinning so bright she could power the entire city. “You were nervous about flirting with me! And this whole time I thought you were just so confident and unaffected about it all!”
“Yes, well--” Elphaba scowled at her. “Someone kept leaving my attempts on read!”
Glinda was beyond hearing her, too busy rattling off to herself all the times she thought Elphaba may have secretly been nervous.
“Oh, there was the time Brev interrupted us after the first appointment, and probably when I almost kissed you at Dorothy’s, and definitely when I called you out for calling me a good girl!”
Groaning, Elphaba slumped against the wall. “This was not how this was supposed to go.” Still, she couldn’t keep the smile off her lips.
Laughing, Glinda grabbed her hand and pulled her back into the main area of the studio, spinning to look around at the pictures.
“Show me every time you were actually secretly nervous about me!”
“No.”
“Please?!”
Elphaba crossed her arms, raising one brow. “Princess, we’ve been engaged for ten minutes and you’re going to start this off by antagonizing me?”
Glinda beamed, eyes a bit wild. “Yes! Come on, show me!” She moved off, chattering quickly as she passed from picture to picture. Eventually, her strings of demands for how nervous Elphaba had been at this moment or that one became genuine expressions of delight.
“Oh, I forgot about this trip!” and “Hey, how did you get this picture?” and “This was one of my favorite moments with you.”
Elphaba let her wander, her heart nearly bursting with it all. The glint of the pink diamond on her finger, the walls full of their story and their love, the smooth golden metal on her own hand.
Oz, she loved this woman so much.
Glinda turned back towards her, gesturing excitedly to a picture she couldn’t identify. The consent form daffodil was still in her hair, yet another testament to just how much this girl meant to her. Shaking her head with a fond chuckle, Elphaba stepped over to look at the picture.
She’d have to tell the flowers back in her office.
Glinda had said yes, and it had been perfect.