Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

The bar was quiet. A few people were left in the main area, and Rumi was behind the bar, cleaning up a bit, waiting to close out their tabs. Her girlfriend Zoey was in the back/kitchen area, cleaning up and taking inventory.

"Last call! We close in 30!" Rumi called out. There were 30 minutes left until close, and she was ready to leave and go home. She was soooo ready to get into their claw-foot tub and fill it to the brim with bubbles, essential oils, maybe set the mood with some candles, and drag Zoey in with her. It's been a while since they've done anything romantic since they got the bar up and running.

She sighs out of boredom and notices a couple of tables still need to be cleaned. Wiping up spilled alcohol, peanut shells, and picking up any shot glasses left on the tables. She risks looking at the clock on the wall. 15 minutes left until closing.

"Alright, ladies, it's time to go." She walks over to the table of three girls gossiping about something. "You don't have to go home, but you can't stay here. Whose paying out the tab?"

One of the girls looked up, "Oh! Sorry about that, I'll take care of it." She closed out the tab, and they finally took their leave. Rumi locks the door after they leave with a sigh.

"Zoeeeyy!" She called from the kitchen. "We're finally closed for the night!"

"FINALLY!!" She hollers back. Bursting out of the kitchen dramatically, as always. "Can we PLEASE go home now? I'm soooo tiirrrrred!"

Not yet, babe," Rumi says apologetically. "I still need to clean two more tables and count the money from today. Shouldn't take more than 20 minutes." Zoey gave an exaggerated groan and slumped against Rumi, resting her chin on her chest, looking up at her with those big puppy eyes and pouting lip.

Rumi hates it when she does that. It just melts her heart every time, but she can't give in this time. So she places a finger under Zoey's chin, bending down a little to softly kiss her lips. "If you're a good girl and can wait out the 20 minutes for me to finish up, I'll make it up to you at home," Zoey grumbles, but is complex anyway.

The 20 minutes go by in a blink without running or even noticing. But she's relieved, because that means they can finally retreat to their apartment for the night. Luckily, they didn't live far from the bar.

On the walk home, Zoey was beside Rumi, bouncing as she went. Rumi lifted her arm, and Zoey thought she was going to put her arm around her, so she leaned in a little, but instead, she felt pressure on her head. Rumi decided to rest her arm on top of her head instead. "Hey!" Zoey squealed, "My head is not an armrest!" Rumi just looked down and smiled; small strands that came undone from her braid framed her face. She looked tired, but happy.

"It is for me tonight," Rumi smiled and stuck out her tongue at Zoey. She removed her arm and leaned over to kiss Zoey on the cheek, squishing her face in the process.

After a couple of minutes, Rumi noticed another couple walking their way, not directly at them, but in passing. A tall girl, a little taller than her, she had long pink hair and was wearing a hoodie with the hood up and sunglasses. Walking next to her, another girl with long blonde hair, hands in her pockets, had a sour look on her face. She held herself like she owned the world. Her eyes met Rumi's. She looked familiar. As they locked eyes, the blonde's left arm wrapped around the other's shoulders, not in a protective way, more like a possessive gesture.

Rumi didn't like how that looked. Not in the creepy way, but in the sickening way, like there was something wrong. Zoey felt the stiffness in her. She looked up, and she didn't like the look on Rumi's face.

"Ru, you okay?" Zoey was worried; she held her hand and gently squeezed it. Rumi pulled herself out of her head; memories that flooded her mind were falling away as she heard Zoey's voice. "Rumi?" Zoey's brows were furrowed as she finally saw her eyes blink. "Where'd you go, baby? Is everything okay?"

"Huh?" Rumi looked at her; she could see the worry written on Zoey's face. "Oh, yeah, I'm sorry, zo. I spaced out for a second." She let her gaze fall. She lowered her voice before she spoke again. "Those two girls that passed by us... I didn't like how the one in the hoodie was holding herself. And the blonde girl, I...I feel like I've seen her before, but I don't remember."

Zoey looked at her like she was going to break any second. She held her hand tighter, as if she was going to disappear if she let go. "Maybe you know her from school?"

"Maybe," Rumi said, her voice didn't sound like her own at that moment.

Zoey unlocked the door to their apartment, the cool air from inside washed over them, and they both let out a sigh of relief. She shut the door and kicked off her shoes. Rumi did the same thing.

"Shower tiiiime," She started walking towards the bathroom, stopping before rounding the corner, turned around, and looked at Rumi. "You wanna join me, babe?" Rumi stood there for a moment like she was thinking about it, then she nodded and followed her to the shower.

During the shower, Rumi was a little distracted. She stood under the water, letting it run down her body. Zoey wrapped her arms around her waist because that's all she could do. That's all that Rumi could take right now. Zoey kissed her on the back between her shoulder blades and just held her for a while, trying to ground her.

"Let's get you cleaned up, yes?" Zoey broke the silence; she watched as Rumi slowly nodded her head, letting her wash her body and her hair. The water felt nice, considering Rumi's state, but it was warm, constant, and grounding. Zoey's touches were grounding. How her fingers glide over Rumi's skin.

After the shower, Rumi sat on the couch in silence, flipping the TV on. She wasn't really wanting to watch it, but just needed the background noise.

Rumi had wrapped herself in a soft, oversized sweater, the sleeves falling over her hands, and tugged on a pair of comfy leggings. Her long purple hair was down, damp from the shower, cascading over her shoulders in loose waves — the braid she usually wore felt far too neat and restrictive right now.

Zoey plopped down next to her on the couch, a soft grin on her face. "Wow… purple’s never looked this soft," she teased, reaching a finger to twirl a strand around her own finger.

Rumi rolled her eyes but smiled, leaning into the touch. "Stop flirting with me, I just got changed."

"Flirting? Me? Never," Zoey said, dramatically covering her chest with her hands and leaning back. "I’m just… appreciating art."

Rumi chuckled, nudging her gently. "Art, huh? So I’m a masterpiece now?"

"You’re the masterpiece," Zoey said, leaning forward and pressing a quick kiss to the corner of Rumi’s mouth. Then, mock-serious, she added, "But I think you need more… supervision."

Rumi raised an eyebrow. "Supervision? Sounds a little controlling, don’t you think?"

Zoey leaned closer, whispering, "Only for your own good, babe. Can’t have you disappearing into your own thoughts again."

Rumi’s lips curved into a soft smile. Her hand moved to Zoey’s, squeezing it. "Thanks, Zo… I just get caught up sometimes. Between the bar, the girls tonight… it just… hits me differently."

Zoey nodded, brushing her thumb across Rumi’s knuckles. "I get it. But hey, we’re here. Both of us. Always."

The apartment was small — two bedrooms, a compact kitchen, and a tiny living area — but to them, it felt like a sanctuary. A single overhead light cast a warm glow across the room, bouncing off the pale walls and the few framed pictures of trips they’d taken, silly selfies, and a small corner shelf stacked with books and a couple of potted plants.

Rumi sighed and leaned back on the couch. "I like it here," she said quietly. "Even when everything else feels messy."

Zoey crawled up next to her, resting her head on Rumi’s shoulder. "Me too," she murmured. "Even if it’s tiny and cramped… It’s ours. And hey, we can fill it with… other stuff too."

Rumi raised an eyebrow, smiling. "Other stuff, huh?"

"You know," Zoey teased, "movie nights, late-night snacks, blanket forts, hands-on demonstrations of love…" She wiggled her eyebrows.

Rumi groaned, half-laughing, half-rolling her eyes. "You’re ridiculous."

Zoey just laughed, wrapping her arms around Rumi’s waist and pressing her close. "Ridiculous and yours. You love it."

Rumi sighed, finally letting herself relax fully. Her hair fell in loose waves across her chest, and for the first time all night, her mind slowed. The neon lights of the bar, the strange couple on the street, the busy hum of Seoul — all of it faded. Here, in their apartment, with Zoey beside her, she felt anchored.

"Want me to grab some snacks?" Zoey asked after a moment of silence, breaking the peaceful quiet.

"Absolutely," Rumi said, finally letting a small grin slip through. "And… maybe… Can you help me pick a movie? Something not too scary, not too cheesy."

Zoey smirked, hopping off the couch. "Hey, I don’t do cheesy. Only the finest cinematic experiences for you."

As Zoey disappeared into the kitchen, Rumi leaned back, her hair falling around her shoulders. She could hear the faint clinking of snack bags being opened. For the first time all evening, she allowed herself to just… breathe.

The city outside their window pulsed faintly with lights and life, but inside their little apartment, it was quiet. Safe. Warm.

Rumi smiled softly, thinking, No matter what happens out there, here with her, I’m home.

The first light of morning filtered through the thin curtains, casting soft golden stripes across the small bedroom. Rumi stirred under the warmth of the blankets, her long purple hair sprawled across the pillow and spilling over Zoey’s shoulder. The scent of Zoey’s shampoo — sweet and slightly floral — mingled with the faint smell of their breakfast plans from the kitchen the night before.

Zoey, still half-asleep, nuzzled closer, her black hair falling just past her shoulders in a messy cascade, a few baby bangs brushing her forehead. She had tossed it down last night, but a few strands had escaped, framing her face in a way that made her look impossibly soft.

Rumi cracked an eye open, blinking at the sunlight. “Morning,” she murmured, voice still husky from sleep.

“Morning,” Zoey replied, her lips curving into a sleepy smile. She shifted closer, resting her chin lightly on Rumi’s shoulder. “You slept well?”

Rumi yawned and stretched, letting her arms rise above her head, the sweater she wore last night slipping slightly. “Better than I have in a while. Feels… nice to actually rest for once.”

Zoey hummed, nudging her playfully. “Glad I could be your blanket buddy.”

Rumi laughed softly, turning her head to press a quick kiss to Zoey’s temple. “Always. You’re the best blanket buddy ever.”

Zoey rolled over, her long hair falling around her like a black waterfall, and grinned. “And I’m the best part of your mornings, don’t forget it.”

“You’re definitely the loudest,” Rumi teased, tracing a finger along Zoey’s jawline. “Even when you’re quiet.”

Zoey giggled, brushing her bangs out of her eyes. “Quiet? Me? You’re hilarious. I’m always dramatic.” She leaned closer, her voice dropping to a playful whisper. “And sometimes… dangerously cute.”

Rumi laughed again, pulling Zoey into a soft hug. “Dangerously cute, huh? I might need to prepare myself for that.”

Zoey snuggled closer, her arms wrapping around Rumi’s waist. “Don’t worry, babe. You’re fully equipped to handle me. I’m gentle in the mornings… mostly.”

“Mostly,” Rumi repeated with a grin, pressing a kiss to the top of Zoey’s head, her hair tickling her nose. “Good. Because I plan to enjoy this morning as much as possible.”

They stayed like that for a while, tangled in blankets, the soft light of Seoul spilling across their small bedroom, the city waking slowly outside their window. No alarms, no schedules — just the quiet hum of life and the comfort of each other.

Finally, Zoey stretched, letting her arms fall back. “Breakfast?” she asked, still in a lazy, playful tone. “I call dibs on pancakes.”

Rumi groaned in mock indignation. “Dibs already? I was going to make pancakes for us!”

Zoey sat up just enough to poke Rumi’s side. “Sorry, babe, first dibs always counts.”

Rumi laughed, swinging her legs over the side of the bed. “Fine, fine. But I get the first bite of syrup.”

Zoey grinned mischievously, letting her hair fall forward over one shoulder. “Deal… as long as I get the last bite of chocolate.”

Rumi shook her head, smiling, and grabbed Zoey’s hand. “You drive a hard bargain, Zoey.”

Zoey leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to Rumi’s knuckles. “That’s what you love about me.”

Rumi let out a contented sigh, tugging Zoey closer once more. “Yeah… yeah, it is.”

The smell of coffee drifted through the apartment not long after, mingling with the faint sizzling of butter in the pan. Rumi stood at the stove in her oversized sweater and shorts, her long purple hair down and falling in smooth waves across her back. She hummed softly to herself as she flipped the pancakes, the sound of the spatula clinking against the pan.

Behind her, Zoey sat cross-legged at the small kitchen table, her black hair messy from bed but charming in its own way. She had her baby bangs sticking up at odd angles, making her look younger and cuter than she’d ever admit. She was nursing a mug of coffee between both hands, watching Rumi like she was the only thing worth looking at.

“You’re staring,” Rumi said without turning around, a smile tugging at her lips.

Zoey grinned behind her mug. “Can you blame me? My girlfriend looks like a goddess even when she’s making pancakes.”

Rumi laughed, glancing over her shoulder. “A pancake goddess?”

“The only pancake goddess,” Zoey said dramatically, setting her mug down with a flourish. “Seriously, Ru, you could open a whole side business just selling these. Forget cocktails — pancakes are the future.”

Rumi rolled her eyes, but her smile widened. “Uh-huh, and who’s going to run the bar while I flip pancakes all day?”

Zoey leaned back in her chair, pretending to think hard. “Me, obviously. I’ll be the mysterious, cool bartender, and you’ll be the world-famous pancake queen. Seoul won’t know what hit it.”

“You’re ridiculous,” Rumi chuckled, sliding the first stack of pancakes onto a plate and setting them in front of Zoey. “Here. Eat your dibs.”

Zoey’s eyes lit up, and she immediately reached for the syrup bottle. “Yes! Victory never tasted so sweet.”

Rumi sat down across from her with her own plate, resting her chin in her hand as she watched Zoey drizzle an unreasonable amount of syrup onto her stack.

“You’re going to drown them,” Rumi teased.

“Shh,” Zoey said with mock seriousness, cutting into her pancake. “This is an art form.”

They ate in comfortable silence for a few minutes, the sound of forks clinking against plates filling the air. Rumi found herself relaxing, the tension from the night before fading bit by bit. Watching Zoey savor every bite, cheeks puffed like a chipmunk, was enough to make her heart feel lighter.

After a while, Zoey glanced up, catching Rumi staring this time. “What?” she asked, her mouth full.

Rumi shook her head, smiling softly. “Nothing. Just… you make mornings worth waking up for.”

Zoey froze mid-bite, her cheeks warming pink. She swallowed quickly, setting her fork down. “Ru… don’t say things like that while I’m eating. You’re gonna make me choke.”

Rumi laughed, reaching across the table to brush a strand of Zoey’s hair back from her face. “Then don’t be so cute all the time.”

Zoey leaned into her touch, her grin returning. “Fine. But only because I like you saying it.”

When the plates were finally empty, Zoey stacked them up and carried them to the sink. “Okay, Pancake Goddess, I’ll wash. You cooked. Fair trade.”

Rumi leaned back in her chair, stretching. “Fair enough.”

Zoey turned on the water, her black hair falling forward as she scrubbed a plate. She hummed off-key — loud, cheerful, and totally unbothered. Rumi sat there, watching, feeling that strange mix of peace and warmth that only Zoey seemed to bring into her life.

And for a moment, in their little apartment above the waking streets of Seoul, everything felt perfect.

After breakfast, Zoey wiped her hands on a dish towel and tossed it dramatically over her shoulder like a pro chef finishing her masterpiece. “Dishes, done. Kitchen, sparkling. Weekend, officially begun.”

Rumi, curled up on the couch with her long hair still loose and flowing, arched an eyebrow. “You act like you didn’t just leave syrup fingerprints on the counter.”

Zoey gasped. “Slander!” She rushed back into the kitchen, leaned down, and swiped the counter with the corner of the towel before poking her head out proudly. “There. Perfect. You may now crown me ‘Domestic Goddess of the Apartment.’”

Rumi shook her head, laughing softly. “You’re something, that’s for sure.” She tugged at the blanket draped over the couch. “Come sit with me before you find another excuse to show off.”

Zoey padded over and dropped onto the couch beside her, immediately tucking herself against Rumi’s side. “Weekend tradition?” she asked, already knowing the answer.

Rumi draped the blanket over both of them and reached for the TV remote. “Weekend tradition.”

They scrolled through the channels until they landed on a corny drama rerun. The kind with over-the-top acting, dramatic music, and absurd plot twists. Zoey immediately got invested, shouting, “Oh my god, Ru, she’s totally lying! Look at her face, that’s the face of a liar!”

Rumi snorted, hiding her smile behind her hand. “You say that about everyone.”

“Because everyone is lying!” Zoey insisted, her bangs bouncing as she gestured wildly. “Trust me, I’m a professional.”

“A professional what? Conspiracy theorist?” Rumi teased, pulling the blanket tighter around them.

Zoey gasped again, putting a hand over her heart. “You wound me, Pancake Goddess. Truly.”

They fell into easy laughter, the kind that lingered even as the drama droned on in the background. Rumi eventually rested her head against Zoey’s, her purple hair mingling with Zoey’s black strands.

For a long while, they just sat like that, quiet but content. The city outside buzzed faintly through the window, but in their little apartment, time felt suspended — like the world could wait.

“Hey, Ru?” Zoey asked softly after a pause.

“Mm?”

Zoey tilted her head up just enough to meet her eyes. “You’re really okay, right? After last night?”

Rumi hesitated, her smile fading slightly. She thought of the two girls they’d passed — the blonde’s sharp gaze, the way the pink-haired girl seemed folded in on herself. A weight pressed at her chest, but then Zoey’s hand slid into hers, warm and grounding.

“I’m okay,” Rumi whispered. “I promise.”

Zoey searched her face for a moment, then nodded, squeezing her hand. “Good. Just… don’t shut me out, okay? I’ll always listen. Even if it’s scary stuff.”

Rumi’s throat tightened, but she managed a small smile. “I know. That’s why I love you.”

Zoey’s lips curved into a grin, but her voice was soft when she replied, “I love you too, Ru.”

The words hung between them, simple but unshakable, as the weekend sunlight spilled across the couch.

The late morning sun greeted them as they stepped outside, Seoul already buzzing with life.

Before they left, they’d both taken a little extra time to get dressed for the day. Rumi had parted her long purple hair into two neat braids, the style making her look a little younger but no less striking. She’d chosen a simple blue flowy tank top and white leggings, paired with clean white sneakers. Her purple skates dangled from her hand, ready for later.

Zoey, meanwhile, had tied her black hair back into a high ponytail, her baby bangs framing her face with two longer pieces on either side. She wore a loose yellow t-shirt with two cartoon turtles on the front that read “Turtley Awesome” in bubbly letters, paired with frayed-hem shorts that had clearly seen better days — not that she cared. White sneakers completed her outfit, and this time she’d strapped on her kneepads, determined not to repeat the bloody knee incident from her last attempt at new tricks.

Together, they stepped onto the bustling street. The sidewalks were alive with chatter and laughter, the scent of fresh pastries drifting from the bakery at the corner, mixing with the faint tang of roasted chestnuts from a street cart nearby.

Zoey stretched her arms high above her head, her yellow turtle shirt riding up just enough to make Rumi glance sideways with a grin. “Ugh, finally,” Zoey groaned dramatically, spinning in a little circle on the sidewalk. “Sun! Freedom! Adventure!”

“You act like I’ve been keeping you hostage,” Rumi teased, adjusting the strap of her skate bag. Her two braids swung slightly as she tilted her head.

Zoey gave her a mock-serious look. “Ru, you literally tried to trap me on the couch with cuddles and a bad drama marathon.”

“And you loved it,” Rumi shot back.

Zoey stuck her tongue out, then broke into a laugh. “Okay, yeah, I did. But still. It’s too nice a day to waste.”

They made their way down the familiar streets, hand in hand, until the little tea shop came into view. The wooden sign above the door was painted with delicate green leaves, and the windows glowed with the warm amber light inside.

The bell over the door jingled softly as they stepped in. The air was fragrant with herbs and floral blends, steam rising from teapots behind the counter. The shop’s owner, an older woman with kind eyes, immediately lit up when she spotted them.

“Ah, my favorite couple!” she said warmly, waving them over. “Back again?”

“Wouldn’t dream of going anywhere else,” Rumi replied, bowing her head politely before leading Zoey to their usual corner table.

Zoey plopped into her chair, bouncing slightly. “Okay, I’m calling it — I’m getting the peach blossom tea today. You can’t stop me, Ru.”

Rumi smirked as she took the seat across from her. “I wasn’t going to stop you. But you know you’ll want half of mine too.”

“True,” Zoey admitted, grinning as she leaned her elbows on the table. “What are you getting?”

“Lavender jasmine,” Rumi said without hesitation. “You can steal a sip, but only if you promise not to drink half my cup again.”

Zoey made a face like she was offended. “No promises.”

Their tea arrived quickly, each cup steaming and fragrant. They sipped slowly, talking about everything and nothing — how business at the bar had been, what new menu ideas they could try, whether they should finally get around to repainting their bedroom wall.

By the time their cups were empty, Zoey was practically vibrating in her seat. “Skate park next?”

Rumi chuckled, slipping her bag strap over her shoulder. “Skate park next.”

The park wasn’t far, and as they approached, the sound of wheels clattering against ramps and the shouts of kids echoed through the air. The smooth concrete shimmered faintly in the sun, and the energy of the place immediately pulled Zoey in.

She set her new board down with a grin that nearly split her face in two. “Finally!” she cheered, strapping on her kneepads and hopping on with practiced ease. She rolled forward, testing her balance before kicking off harder, weaving around a ramp.

Rumi sat on a bench at first, lacing up her purple skates. She watched Zoey go, smiling as her girlfriend’s hair bounced with every movement, her loose shirt flaring when she picked up speed. There was something infectious about Zoey’s joy — the way she threw herself into the moment, no hesitation.

Once her skates were secure, Rumi pushed herself up and glided onto the concrete, the wheels humming beneath her. She caught up to Zoey with ease, nudging her lightly as they coasted side by side.

“Race you to the far ramp?” Zoey challenged, eyes sparkling.

Rumi smirked. “You’re on.”

With that, they were off, weaving through the crowd of skaters, laughter ringing out as they pushed each other faster, the whole afternoon stretching out in front of them.

Zoey pushed off with a strong kick, her wheels humming as she weaved around a small ramp, feeling the familiar thrill of speed. Rumi glided beside her, pushing herself along with fluid ease, her two braids bouncing against her back. The afternoon sun glinted off her skates, and for a while, it was all laughs, shouts, and the carefree energy of the park.

Zoey tried a small trick, wobbled, and barely kept her balance, laughing as she righted herself. “See! Kneepads save lives!” she called over her shoulder.

Rumi chuckled, weaving around her to catch up. “Good thinking. I’d hate to explain why my girlfriend is covered in scrapes before noon.”

They were racing toward a gentle slope when Rumi’s attention flicked to something in the distance. Across the park, near the far edge, she saw them — the pair that had passed them on the street last night. The tall girl with pink hair, hood pulled up, was walking alongside the blonde, whose arm still curled possessively around her.

Rumi’s focus wavered, her mind pulled toward the memory of that moment — the unease, the sick feeling she couldn’t shake. She didn’t notice the small set of stairs directly in front of her.

“Ruuu—!” Zoey’s scream cut through the air. She lunged forward, grabbing Rumi by the back of her shirt and yanking her backward just as her skate would have carried her down the steps.

Rumi stumbled backward, heart hammering. “Ah! What—what?!”

“Are you insane?!” Zoey’s voice cracked, laced with fear. “You could’ve gotten really hurt. What the hell was that?!”

Rumi blinked, startled by the sudden motion and intensity of Zoey’s reaction. Her gaze met Zoey’s, eyebrows scrunched in worry, lips trembling slightly. “I—I’m sorry,” she stammered. “I zoned out by accident.”

Zoey’s breathing was ragged, her eyes wide. “Rumi… you could’ve easily broken your neck if you fell down those stairs. If—if I didn’t get to you in time to grab you and pull you back…” Her voice faltered, and tears started to stream down her face, unrestrained.

Rumi’s heart tightened. She knelt down in front of Zoey, cupping her cheeks gently in her hands. “Hey… hey, look at me,” she said softly, brushing the tears away with her thumbs. “I’m okay, see? No cuts, no bruises. I’m okay. I didn’t fall… because you didn’t let me.”

Zoey’s resolve broke entirely, and she lunged into Rumi’s chest, wrapping her arms around her tightly. Rumi had to place one hand on the concrete behind her for balance, the other circling Zoey as she held her close. Zoey’s face pressed against Rumi’s sweater, crying into her shoulder, and Rumi whispered reassuringly, “It’s okay, I’m here. I'm safe. I’m okay.”

They stayed like that for a few minutes, the chaos of the skate park fading away, replaced by the steady rhythm of their breathing and the warmth of each other. Eventually, Zoey lifted her head slightly, sniffing and wiping at her tears.

“Let’s… let’s move somewhere else,” Rumi suggested gently. They made their way to a nearby bench, careful with the skates and board.

Sitting side by side, Zoey rested her head on Rumi’s shoulder, still trembling slightly. Rumi wrapped an arm around her, holding her close, while they both took a moment to watch the other skaters from a safe distance.

After a while, Zoey sighed, her fingers lacing through Rumi’s braid. “I think… I think I’m done for today. My heart can’t handle any more near-death experiences.”

Rumi chuckled softly, resting her chin on the top of Zoey’s head. “Fair. Me neither. Let’s call it and head home.”

Chapter Text

Chapter Text

The late morning sunlight spilled through the blinds by the time Zoey stirred, stretching out with a groggy groan.

“Morning already?” she muttered, burying her face into Rumi’s shoulder.

“Yep.” Rumi kissed her forehead before slipping out of bed. “Come on, we’ve got a whole day before work. Breakfast first, then gym?”

Zoey perked up at that. “Gym day? Okay, I’m in— but only if you’re making breakfast.”

Rumi smirked. “Deal. Pancake goddess strikes again.”

After breakfast, they pulled on their workout clothes. Zoey tied her hair into two space buns, tugging on a fitted black sports bra and high-waisted burgundy leggings, the kind with pockets on the thighs. She laced up her old but trusty black sneakers.

Rumi braided her purple hair into a single sleek braid down her back today. She slipped into a slate-blue tank top and black compression leggings, with a white zip-up hoodie tied around her waist. Her sneakers were bright purple — a gift from Zoey last month.

Zoey gave her a once-over. “You look like you’re about to win a marathon.”

Rumi raised a brow, tugging lightly at Zoey’s space buns. “And you look like you’re about to teach a spin class.”

Zoey grinned. “Cute spin class.”

Rumi rolled her eyes, but her lips curved into a smile as she grabbed her phone.

“Texting Abby, we’re on our way,” she said, typing quickly.

Zoey groaned, slipping on her hoodie. “Don’t tell him we’re late again—he’ll give us the lecture.”

The phone buzzed almost instantly with a reply.

“Too late,” Rumi chuckled. “He says, and I quote: ‘Finally. I thought you two retired. I’ve been bench-pressing alone like a loser.’”

Zoey snorted. “Oh my god, classic Abby.”

By the time they jogged up to the gym, they didn’t even need to look for him—Abby was impossible to miss.

Hot-pink hair styled into a messy fauxhawk, floral button-up straining against his chest and shoulders, faded light-blue jeans, and a grin that could’ve been seen across the room. He waved one massive arm, his other hand clutching a protein shake like it was an extension of himself.

“There’s my girls!” Abby’s booming voice carried as they entered. “I was about to send a search party.”

Zoey laughed, bumping fists with him. “We were busy being lazy. Don’t judge.”

“Lazy?” Abby scoffed, clapping her so hard on the back she nearly stumbled. “Not on my watch. Let’s get to work.”

Rumi grinned, already pulling her braid tighter. “Just don’t yell at us if we make you spot every set.”

Abby smirked. “Sweetheart, I live for it. Now, who’s benching first?”

They started with a light jog on the treadmills, warming up.

Zoey adjusted her space buns, already panting. “Okay, who decided cardio comes first? This is cruel and unusual punishment.”

Rumi, barely breaking a sweat, smirked. “It’s called warming up. You’ll live.”

Abby, running on the treadmill next to them like it was a walk in the park, barked a laugh. “Zoey, you’ve barely hit half a mile. Don’t let the buns fool us—show us you got stamina.”

Zoey shot him a glare. “Don’t bun-shame me.”

After stretching, they moved to the benches. Rumi lay down first, sliding under the bar.

“Spot me,” she told Abby.

“You got it,” he said, standing behind her with his giant hands ready.

Zoey leaned on the bar rack, smirking. “You sure you don’t want me spotting? My noodle arms are top tier.”

“Yeah,” Rumi deadpanned, lifting the bar. “Real confidence builder.”

Abby chuckled as Rumi started her set. “Keep it steady. That’s it. Easy money for you, huh?”

Rumi powered through the reps and racked the bar with a sharp exhale. “Your turn, noodle arms.”

Zoey groaned. “Fine. But when the bar crushes me, tell everyone I died bravely.”

She slid onto the bench, already fidgeting. Abby handed her the bar with zero effort.

“Okay, Zoey,” Abby said with mock seriousness. “Imagine this bar is your mortal enemy.”

Zoey strained under the weight. “Feels more like my landlord at rent time.”

Rumi crouched beside her, grinning. “Push, you drama queen. You’ve got this.”

Zoey squeezed her eyes shut, pushing harder. “If I die, bury me in leggings!”

Abby steadied the bar, laughing so hard he nearly lost grip. “Leggings and space buns, got it.”

When she finally got the last rep in, she sat up, gasping. “That was murder. Pure murder.”

Rumi handed her a water bottle. “It was thirty pounds, Zo. Thirty.”

Zoey glared. “Thirty pounds of pure evil.”

They rotated through squats, curls, and deadlifts. Abby coached them through each one, tossing in ridiculous encouragement.

“Pretend the weight is that creepy guy at the bar last week!” Abby shouted as Rumi powered through deadlifts.

“Works for me,” she said, slamming the barbell down with a smirk.

Zoey, on her turn, gritted her teeth and squeaked out, “I’d rather just call Abby to throw him out.”

“Damn right you would,” Abby laughed.

By the time they wrapped up with planks, Zoey collapsed on her mat dramatically.

“Plank is evil’s final form,” she whined, face smushed into the mat.

Rumi tapped her back lightly. “Don’t talk. Breathe.”

Abby crouched beside Zoey with a grin. “Come on, ten more seconds. You can do anything for ten seconds.”

Zoey groaned. “I hate both of you.”

“Love you too,” Rumi and Abby said in unison, cracking up as Zoey collapsed flat when the timer buzzed.

They finished with stretches on the mats. Rumi bent forward, reaching for her toes with ease.

Zoey tried to mimic her but winced halfway down. “Nope. My hamstrings have unionized. They’re on strike.”

Abby chuckled, stretching his arms overhead. “That’s because you cheat on leg day.”

Zoey shot him a look. “First of all, rude. Second of all—accurate, but still rude.”

Rumi smirked down at her. “Just breathe, Zo. Stretching isn’t supposed to be a battle cry.”

“I’m trying,” Zoey muttered, collapsing into a butterfly stretch instead. “This is my safe space.”

Once they were done, they headed out into the late morning sun. The streets were busy but calm, the hum of Seoul wrapping around them.

Zoey immediately latched onto Rumi’s arm, practically dangling from her side like a backpack. “Carry me home.”

Rumi gave her a sidelong glance. “Pretty sure you’ve still got legs. Use them.”

Zoey pouted dramatically. “These? No. These are purely decorative now. Retired.”

Abby barked a laugh from the other side. “She’s got more complaints than reps. Classic.”

Zoey pointed up at him. “You’re banned from commentary.”

Rumi smirked, looking down at her tiny girlfriend. “Good luck enforcing that.”

They crossed the street, and Zoey tightened her grip on Rumi. “I’m just saying… If I collapse in the crosswalk, it’s on you for not carrying me.”

“You’ll survive,” Rumi said, though she slowed her stride to match Zoey’s smaller steps.

Abby grinned, hands stuffed in his jeans pockets. “You two are ridiculous. I’m grabbing a protein shake before heading home. Try not to nap on the sidewalk, Zoey.”

Zoey stuck her tongue out at him. “Go flex somewhere else.”

“Love you too,” Abby shot back with a wink before heading down the opposite block.

Rumi and Zoey continued walking, slower now. Rumi glanced down at her. “You know, for someone who nearly died under thirty pounds, you’re very dramatic.”

Zoey gasped, her big eyes widening. “Thirty pounds is heavy when you’re five-foot and adorable!”

Rumi laughed, shaking her head. “That’s your excuse for everything.”

Zoey grinned up at her, bumping her shoulder into Rumi’s hip. “And it works every time, doesn’t it?”

Rumi rolled her eyes but slid an arm around Zoey’s shoulders, pulling her closer as they walked. “You’re impossible.”

Zoey tilted her head against Rumi’s side, smiling softly. “Yeah. But I’m your impossible.”

By the time they reached their apartment, Zoey was dragging her feet like she’d been on a marathon instead of a jog-and-gym session.

The moment the door closed, she flopped face-first onto the couch. “I live here now. The couch is my final resting place.”

Rumi toed off her sneakers and shook her head. “Nope. Shower first. You smell like gym.”

Zoey muffled into the cushion, “You smell like gym.”

“That’s the point,” Rumi said, leaning down to grab Zoey’s wrists and tug her upright. “C’mon, or you’ll glue yourself to the couch with sweat.”

Zoey groaned but finally let herself be pulled up. “Fine. But you’re going in first, so I don’t get ambushed by freezing water.”

“Deal,” Rumi smirked.

The hot water worked wonders, washing away the ache of their muscles. Rumi finished first, padding out in a towel while Zoey took her turn. By the time Zoey emerged, hair damp and sticking to her baby bangs, Rumi was already rummaging through the kitchen.

“What’s on the menu, chef?” Zoey asked, climbing onto a stool at the counter.

“Something with protein so you don’t whine later,” Rumi teased. She pulled eggs, rice, and leftover chicken from the fridge. “Chicken and egg bowls. Simple.”

Zoey perked up instantly. “Ohhh, my favorite! See, this is why I keep you around.”

“Not for my sparkling personality?” Rumi arched a brow, cracking eggs into the pan.

Zoey grinned. “That too. But mostly the food.”

They ate at the table, Zoey practically inhaling her bowl. “Okay… this… this makes the workout worth it,” she said with her mouth half full.

Rumi chuckled, taking slower bites. “You’re not supposed to undo the workout by eating like a barbarian.”

Zoey narrowed her eyes playfully. “Don’t judge my process. This is art.”

When the food was gone, Zoey slumped back in her chair, patting her stomach. “Alright, now I’m ready for a nap.”

Rumi shot her a look. “Nope. Bar opens at six. We’ve got work to do.”

Zoey groaned again but stood, following Rumi back to their bedroom to change.

Rumi braided her damp purple hair into her usual single braid, slipping into a fitted black top and dark jeans. Zoey pulled her still-drying black hair into two space buns, leaving the longer strands to frame her face. She opted for a cropped hoodie with her favorite little alien design and faded jeans with rips at the knees.

Rumi glanced at her in the mirror. “You look like you’re about to start a dance battle, not serve drinks.”

Zoey smirked. “Exactly. Gotta keep the customers guessing.”

Rumi shook her head with a laugh, grabbing her keys. “Alright, let’s go get the bar ready before Abby shows up and makes fun of us again.”

Zoey looped her arm through hers. “He only makes fun of you, babe. He thinks I’m adorable.”

“Everyone thinks you’re adorable.”

Zoey grinned smugly. “Exactly.”

The late afternoon sun was still high as they locked up the apartment and started their walk to the bar. Zoey swung their joined hands back and forth, humming some random tune under her breath while Rumi seemed quieter than usual, her gaze a little distant.

Zoey noticed right away. “Alright, spill it. What’s chewing at you?”

Rumi hesitated, eyes flicking toward the pavement before answering. “It’s… those two girls we saw yesterday at the skate park.”

Zoey tilted her head. “The pink-haired one in the hoodie, and the blonde who looked like she wanted to bite someone’s head off?”

“Yeah. Them.” Rumi’s brow furrowed, her voice low. “The blonde, especially. I can’t shake it. I know I’ve seen her before, but I can’t place her. It’s like there’s a memory just out of reach, and the harder I try to remember, the fuzzier it gets.”

Zoey gave her hand a reassuring squeeze. “Maybe you crossed paths back in school, or at another bar? Seoul’s a big city, Ru. You don’t have to solve it right this second.”

Rumi nodded slowly, but her frown didn’t lift. “It’s not just recognizing her face, Zo. When I saw her, I got this… feeling. Something heavy, like I was supposed to remember something important, but my brain just slammed the door shut.”

Zoey stopped walking for a second, tugging her closer until Rumi looked at her. “Hey. Whatever it is, you’ll figure it out. And until you do, I’m not letting you walk up stairs or traffic while you’re zoning out, got it?”

That earned a small chuckle from Rumi. “Got it.”

They started walking again, and as the neon signs of their street came into view, Zoey leaned her head against Rumi’s shoulder for a moment. “If she’s important, she’ll come up again. Until then… let’s just worry about making sure Abby doesn’t roast us when we open.”

That actually made Rumi smile. “Good point. He’s brutal when he’s bored.”

By the time they reached the bar, Abby was already leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed, his hot pink hair practically glowing under the fading daylight. He wore one of his too-tight floral shirts, today a blinding yellow-and-green print, tucked into his worn light blue jeans.

“You two are late,” he smirked, flexing just enough to make his sleeves strain. “What were you doing, braiding each other’s hair?”

Zoey gasped dramatically, hand to her chest. “How dare you! My buns are flawless, thank you very much.”

Rumi rolled her eyes as she unlocked the door. “He’s been waiting all day to say that, I guarantee it.”

“Damn right I have,” Abby said with a grin, following them inside. “Now let’s get this place ready before your regulars storm the door.”

Inside, the bar was dim, sunlight fading behind the heavy curtains. Dust motes floated in the air as the three of them stepped in. Rumi flicked on the overheads, giving the place its warm evening glow.

Abby clapped his hands once. “Alright, team. Let’s make this joint sparkle before the masses swarm in.” He stretched his arms wide, the too-tight floral shirt straining at the seams.

Zoey snorted. “You just want to stand around flexing while we do the actual work.”

“You wound me,” Abby said, clutching his chest in mock pain.

Before Rumi could even respond, the front door creaked open again, and a familiar deep voice called out, “Knock, knock. Your second layer of fabulous has arrived.”

“Baby!” Zoey squealed, immediately hopping over to hug him.

Baby stepped in with his usual chaotic flair: short teal hair sticking out from under a mustard-yellow beanie, oversized knitted sweater hanging off one shoulder, layered over a perfectly crisp button-up. His purple skinny jeans clung to his legs, the rips just a little too deliberate.

“Don’t tell me you missed me already,” Baby teased in that ridiculously deep voice that never matched his baby face.

“You wish,” Abby muttered, though there was amusement in his eyes.

Baby tossed his bag onto a booth and immediately headed for the neon lights. “Relax, muscle man. My job is far more important than moving heavy bottles around. The neon demands attention.” He flicked a switch and one by one the signs blinked to life — pinks, blues, greens, the glow filling the bar until it buzzed with color.

Zoey twirled in place, grinning widely. “Now this is what I like. Vibes.”

Rumi smiled faintly, already behind the counter, pulling out glasses and setting them neatly on the shelf. “Baby, did you check the beer tap last time? It was spitting air near the end of the shift.”

“Already on it,” Baby said, crouching behind the counter like he owned the place. “If I get sprayed with foam, I’m suing.”

“You do realize you'd be suing Rumi and Zoey, right? It is their bar after all,” Abby pointed out.

Baby shot Abby a flat look over his shoulder, one eyebrow raised. “Yeah, and you think I wouldn’t? I’d win on emotional damages alone.”

He wiggled the tap handle experimentally, muttering under his breath when a thin hiss of air escaped. “See? This thing’s haunted. Bet it’s that same ghost that keeps moving the shot glasses.”

Abby snorted, leaning against the bar. “You just don’t know how to fix it.”

Baby glanced up with mock offense. “Excuse me, I am a man of many talents. Plumbing just isn’t one of them.” He gave the handle one last twist, grinning as the tap sputtered and finally poured clean. “Boom. Fixed. Who’s laughing now?”

Rumi chuckled softly from behind the counter, shaking her head. “You’re lucky it didn’t explode on you.”

Baby flashed a grin. “Nah, this bar loves me too much for that.”

That got Zoey cackling, practically leaning against Rumi for balance. “God, I love you guys.”

Abby started hauling kegs to the back, muscles bulging, while Baby adjusted the lights until the neon glow painted everything in vibrant color. Zoey wiped down tables, dancing her way between booths, while Rumi made a neat stack of menus and set up the cash drawer.

In less than an hour, the bar looked alive — glass polished, counters gleaming, neon buzzing softly in the background, the faint scent of citrus cleaner fading into the smell of fresh limes being sliced for garnish.

Abby leaned against the counter, surveying the room with crossed arms. “Not bad. Almost looks professional.”

Zoey tossed a rag at him. “Almost?”

Baby gave an exaggerated sigh, dramatically adjusting his beanie. “Please. It looks like the cover of a music video in here. You’re welcome.”

Once the bar was fully set, Rumi, Zoey, and Baby leaned against the counter, surveying their work.

Rumi pulled a small bottle of whiskey from the shelf. “Alright, team. Pre-shift ritual. Monday edition. Who’s in?”

Zoey’s eyes lit up. “Oh, I am so in.” She grabbed a shot glass, shaking it slightly before letting Rumi pour.

Baby raised an eyebrow, his deep voice rumbling in mock seriousness. “You’re actually going to do shots before a Monday shift?”

“Absolutely,” Rumi said with a grin. “We don’t know what’s coming, and I like to be prepared.”

Baby smirked, finally grabbing a glass. “Fine. I’ll play along. For team morale.”

They clinked their glasses together, the faint tinkle echoing in the empty bar.

“To surviving the first wave,” Rumi said, tossing hers back in one smooth motion.

“To surviving Mondays,” Zoey echoed, her bangs slightly damp from the light sweat of their earlier jog and gym session.

“To neon glory,” Baby added, slamming his shot back and letting out a satisfied hum that made his small frame seem oddly intimidating.

Rumi and Zoey exchanged a glance, both smiling. “Well,” Rumi said, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. “I feel ready.”

Zoey nodded, hopping behind the bar. “Me too. Let’s do this.”

Rumi positioned herself beside her, arranging napkins and coasters. “Monday might be quiet, but we’ll stay sharp. You never know who might walk in.”

Baby moved around the tables, pulling out chairs and setting them neatly, then heading to the back to grab baskets of fresh peanuts for each table. “If anyone comes hungry—or just thirsty for peanuts—they’re covered,” he said over his shoulder, placing them carefully.

Zoey leaned on the bar, watching him. “You’re ridiculously thorough, you know that?”

“Of course,” Baby said, shooting her a wink. “Someone’s got to make sure this place doesn’t fall apart before the first drink is poured.”

Rumi smiled faintly, noticing Zoey’s light teasing tone. “All set back there, Baby?”

“Absolutely. Everything’s glowing. Everything’s ready. You two can take on the first wave.”

The three of them settled into their positions, the neon lights humming softly around them, the bar smelling faintly of polished wood and peanuts, the quiet before the first customers…

The first couple of hours went by slowly. Monday nights always started like this—just a few small groups trickling in, chatting quietly over drinks, and leaving after an hour or so. Rumi and Zoey leaned against the bar when they could, exchanging soft jokes to pass the time.

“Do you think anyone will actually come tonight?” Zoey asked, spinning a coaster between her fingers.

Rumi shrugged, folding a clean towel. “Monday. Probably not a crowd. But hey, slow nights are good for practice.”

Baby walked by, placing peanuts on a table and grinning. “Practice? You mean practice at being bored? Because we’re acing that right now.”

Zoey laughed. “Hey, at least Abby can’t yell at us for chaos. He’s too bored himself.”

Abby leaned against the bar rail, flexing just slightly. “Boredom is a choice. And I refuse to choose it.”

The hours crawled along like this—quiet but steady. Only a couple more small groups came in, chatting lightly, ordering a drink or two. Rumi and Zoey kept up with glasses, napkins, and smiles, while Baby made sure the neon glow stayed perfect and the peanut baskets stayed full.

Up until a couple of hours before closing, a tall, pink-haired girl walks in, tentative at first, like she didn't know what she was doing. She casually walks through the crowd of people, a man about a foot taller than her tries to grab her arm as she walks by, but Abby was already there, grabbing the man's wrist and cranking it backwards. The man hissed from the pain.

"Try that again, buddy, and I'll throw you in the dumpster," Abby said with a snarl.

"You okay?" He asked the girl.

"Y-Yes, I'm okay, thank you," she said and immediately turned around and continued to the bar counter.

Rumi walked in from the back with a clean towel and froze when she saw the girl with pink hair sitting at the bar. She walked over carefully.

“What can I get for you?” Rumi asked.

“Just water, please,” the girl said. Her voice was deeper than she expected, a bit monotone, but also a little gruff. It made her heart thump hard in her chest.

“Water, huh?” Rumi questioned softly but poured her a glass anyway, adding a couple of lemon slices. She handed it to her.

“Thanks,” the girl said quietly. “I’m Mira, by the way. Nice to meet you.”

Rumi froze for a second, blinking.

“Rumi,” she finally managed, voice catching just slightly. She hadn’t expected that at all.

Zoey, noticing her pause, leaned over the counter. “Everything okay back there?” she asked, glancing at Mira with curiosity.

Rumi shook her head lightly, still staring at Mira. “Yeah… yeah, just—hi.”

Mira smiled faintly and took a sip of her water, her eyes scanning the room cautiously. Something about her made the air feel heavier, like she carried a weight that Rumi instinctively recognized, even if she couldn’t place it.

Zoey nudged Rumi gently. “She looks like she could use a friend. You gonna ask her about it, or just stare?”

Rumi exhaled slowly, setting the towel down. “I think… I’ll start small.”

“Good plan,” Zoey whispered, giving her hand a reassuring squeeze from across the bar.

Rumi stayed by Mira. She was going to start the conversation, but she got distracted by a random guy sitting at a table near the bar eyeing Mira. "Not on my watch, and not in my bar." Rumi thought to herself. she had eyes on him like a hawk. Abby also noticed from a distance. But he stayed put. If anything, Rumi was gonna be the first one there.

The man decided to walk up to the bar to order another drink, getting a little too close to Mira, "Another beer, please," he said casually, acting like he didn't have plans. He looked at Mira, looking her up and down like she was a snack.

"Hey! Eyes up, buddy." Rumi snapped, catching Mira off guard a bit, flinching at the sudden shout, even with all the noise around. Rumi noticed it. "I'm giving you one chance to leave her alone."

"Whaaat, I can't check a cute girl out?" He said as he placed a hand on Mira's waist.

"Don't touch me!!" Mira shrieked. 

That was it, that's when Rumi leaped over the countertop, gripping the man by the collar of his shirt and yanking him away from Mira. Literally dragging him to the door. She grabbed him by the back of the shirt this time and the belt of his pants, picking him up and throwing him out the door. "I'd better not see your face in my bar ever again. I've got a slugger with your name on it, and it'll go straight to your nuts. GOT IT?!"

He didn't say another word; instead, he fumbled getting to his feet and ran like hell. Rumi went back inside, raising her voice, "Listen up!" The entire bar went quiet. "If ANYONE else is feeling a little touchy tonight towards someone who isn't theirs, you'll get the same treatment he did. Got it!?" The other customers murmured. "And one more thing, if you also have intentions of messing with anyone that isn't your friend or partner, you might as well leave now, and never return to my bar!" she gave them a moment, before saying, "Carry on. We've got one hour until closing btw, make it count," she added before returning to the bar, walking around this time.

Mira still sat at the bar, Zoey next to her, making sure she wasn't alone. "It's okay, just breathe, okay? He's gone now." She was reassuring her while rubbing circles on her back.

"Are you okay, Mira?" Rumi looked at her across the bar, sliding another glass of water over to her, this time without lemon slices. 

"Ye-Yeah, I'm okay," she nodded and took a drink of the lemon-free water. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to react that way..." She looked smaller than when she came in.

"Hey, you don't have to apologize. You had every reason to react like that. He shouldn't have touched you in the first place. He had his warning, and he pushed his luck." Rumi met Mira's eyes, and she gave a reassuring smile.

She looked over at Abby, giving an apologetic look. "Sorry, big guy! I couldn't wait for you." She called over to him. He just gave a shrug and kept watching people, keeping his eyes sharp.

The last of the glasses were stacked, the bar wiped down, and the neon signs dimmed. Abby gave a nod before heading out the back to grab his things, leaving Rumi, Zoey, and Mira in the quiet of the now-empty bar.

Rumi leaned on the counter, glancing at Mira. “Hey… do you want us to walk you home?”

Mira hesitated, her fingers curling around the edge of the bar. “I… yeah. That would be… nice.”

Zoey gave her a reassuring smile. “Good call. You’ve had enough excitement for one night.”

Mira nodded softly, standing and following them out into the cool night air.

The streets of Seoul were calmer now, the glow from the neon signs reflecting off the wet pavement from an earlier rain. Mira kept a few steps ahead, shoulders hunched forward, hands tucked into the pockets of her hoodie, guarded almost as if she didn’t fully trust the world around her.

Zoey glanced at Rumi, her brow furrowed. “She’s… really tense.”

Rumi followed her gaze, frowning. “Yeah. Something’s up with her. I just… I can’t shake it.”

Rumi skated up alongside Mira, matching her pace carefully. “So, uh…” she started, hesitant. “About that first night we saw you covered up…”

Mira slowed her steps slightly, not looking at them. Rumi took a deep breath, unsure if she should continue. “Why were you wearing sunglasses and a face mask at night?”

Mira’s shoulders tensed further. She exhaled slowly, finally speaking, her voice soft. “I… tripped. Fell on my face.” She paused, swallowing. “Thought it was best to cover up… so people wouldn’t… think differently of me.”

Rumi nodded slowly, understanding the weight behind her words. “Makes sense. Nobody should judge you for something like that.”

Zoey skated up beside Rumi, placing a hand lightly on Mira’s back. “Exactly. You don’t have to worry about that here—or with us.”

Mira finally glanced at them, a faint, tired smile tugging at the corners of her lips. “Thanks… really.”

Rumi gave her a reassuring smile back. “Anytime. We’ve got your back.”

The three of them continued walking through the quiet streets, the night feeling slightly lighter now that Mira seemed a little less on edge. Even though she stayed guarded, there was a hint of relief in the way her steps became less hurried, and Rumi made a silent note to herself: they’d figure out the rest, slowly, one step at a time.

They continued walking toward Mira’s apartment, the quiet night stretching out around them. Rumi glanced around, frowning slightly as a thought clicked in her mind. The street… the way Mira was walking—it looked familiar. Too familiar.

“Wait…” Rumi murmured, slowing her pace. “I think I know this way.”

Zoey glanced at her. “You mean…?”

Before Rumi could finish, the familiar outline of their own apartment building loomed ahead, lit faintly by the streetlights and the warm glow from a few windows.

Rumi raised an eyebrow, turning to Mira. “Where exactly do you live?”

Mira pointed toward the building. “Here. On the 9th floor.”

Zoey blinked. “Wait… you live in this apartment building?”

Mira nodded, looking at them like this was a normal thing. “Yes.”

Rumi and Zoey exchanged a glance, the realization slowly sinking in. Their neighbor… all this time.

“We live here too… on the same floor,” Rumi said cautiously, a flicker of unease passing over her face. Her mind immediately jumped to the thudding from last night. Could it have been Mira? She swallowed and forced herself not to ask, at least not yet.

“Really?” Mira asked, tilting her head in confusion. “That’s… kind of funny, isn’t it?”

Zoey laughed nervously, rubbing the back of her neck. “Yeah… funny. Weirdly funny.”

Rumi nodded, still studying Mira carefully. “Yeah… really weird.”

They walked the rest of the way in silence, the air around them heavy with the unspoken realization that the girl they had just met—and just protected—was much closer than they could have imagined.

They get to her door, which, yup, was right next door to theirs. Rumi got a sick feeling in her stomach, but she didn't know why... "I don't like this one bit," Rumi thought to herself, remembering the thudding again. "Do you want us to come in with-" She was cut off before she could finish the sentence.

"NO!" Mira said quickly. Too quickly. "Sorry, I meant not this time, maybe some other time. My roommate doesn't really like strangers in our home." She said it quietly, carefully, almost.

"Oh, okay, yeah... no problem," Zoey said, looking up at Rumi. "Well, here." Rumi pulled out an old receipt from her bag, scribbled something on it, and handed it to Mira. Who almost didn't take it. but she did anyway.

"A number?" She looked at Rumi, confused, one eyebrow raised. "What's this for?"

"It's my phone number, so you can text me anytime you want," She said with a little smile. We were officially friends now, Mira.

"Yeah, we'd like to hang out a little and get to know you more," Zoey added.

Mira gave a small smile, but it faded quickly, "I would like that, but it's not that often that I get to go anywhere by myself. its rare when I can."

"When you can?" they both say at the same time

"I'm sorry, but I must get inside." And just like that, she slipped inside. They stood there for a few moments, then they retreated to their apartment for the night without another word.

Rumi's phone buzzed 10 minutes later:

Chapter Text

Morning came quickly again. The sun washing over the room with golden light, shooting streaks of sunlight spreading  across the floor and the bed. She looked at Zoey next to her, who was, once again, latched onto her.

“Zoeyyy.” She muttered under her breath.

She tried to reach for her phone the nightstand, but the shift made Zoey tighten her grip even more. She tried again this time, she was able to place her middle finger in the edge of her phone and drag it closer. Slowly.

The clock on her phone read 7 AM. It was still pretty early, so she tried to sleep for few more hours. She wrapped her arms around Zoey holding her tight, and kissing her head softly. She somehow managed to drift off.

Then the memories come in a dream. Happy moments, scared moments, moments of weakness. And there's pain, numbness, and crimson lines.

The dream starts with a shadow fallowing Rumi. She sees herself in high school, going in between classes, sneaking kisses from her girlfriends at the time, Juno, a slightly taller girl with long auburn hair, and deep brown eyes. with a blink, Juno changes her expressions from loving looks and admiration towards Rumi, to anger and disgust. Rumi ended up alone most of the time. Then it flashes to the first time Juno hit her, she back handed her across the face, hard, enough to split her lip open. 

"I told you to stay away from her! Why don't you ever listen!" Junos voice echoes into the next view.

Another blink. Rumi is on the floor against the wall, knees curled up to her chest, then she appears again. She was wearing a large hoodie and had to wear a face mask to cover the bruises on her jaw, and she wore heavy eye makeup to hide the black eye that never went away. she had to watch what she said around Juno, and how she would say things. every time she tried to stand up for herself earned her another smack, every wrong move got her a punch to the gut.

Juno would push her against the wall just for looking at other people. She lost her best friend Alexis because of her. She's tried to leave, but every time she even thinks about it, Juno threatens to out her for the things her and Juno have done behind closed doors. How Juno made her do the sluttiest things, things she never even thought about. They were only high schoolers after all. But Juno had videos and photos of Rumi, She couldn't just leave and risk that spreading through school.

A flash this time, in Rumi's bathroom at her aunts house. She was sitting on the cold tile floor, crying, hurting emotionally and physically. She'd finally got a break from Juno. But she didn't get a break from her body, her thoughts and Junos face flashing through her mind every time she closed her eyes.

She decided she wanted to feel something else. Something that wasn't a slap across the face, or a fist to the jaw or gut. the bruises from where Juno would grab her too tightly, digging her nails into her skin leaving dark red crescents in her skin. She wanted to get rid of them, she wanted to forget them. she went to her aunts bathroom and found a box of blades, took one and went straight back to her bathroom. she sat on the floor she wore short shorts, and a short sleeved shirt tonight, she planned it.

I just want to feel again.

The next blink showed crimson, on her legs and her arms, dripping onto the floor. There was a lot of red... then, darkness. 

I just want to be free.

To be a burden no more.

To not belong anywhere.

She whispered those words to herself, over and over again.

I WANT OUT!!! I WANT TO BE FREE! I....HATE....YOUUU!!!!!

Rumi heard a faint voice in the distance, it sounded familiar, but it was warm, it wasn't scary. It was....coaxing?

"Rumi?" The voice called out. "Rumi! Hey, wake up! You're having a bad dream!" The voice was a little scared itself, urgent.

Then she finally opened her eyes, they were blurry from sleep, dream fog, and the tears she'd shed in her sleep. Once her vision cleared, she could see Zoey's face coming into view, eyes wide, brows almost touching in the middle, tears in her own eyes. "Zoey? Are you okay?" Rumi asked not realizing she had tear stains on her own cheeks.

"Am I okay!?" She squeaked out. "The real question is, 'are you okay, Rumi?'" You were crying and whimpering in your sleep for 20 minutes. I was scared you weren't gonna wake up!" She started crying again.

Rumi sat up with urgency, pulling Zoey into her lap like a child. She held her tightly, brushing her hand over her hair wrapping her other arm around her to hold her in place as she ricked her. "Shhh, It's okay baby, I'm okay. I'm here. I just had a bad dream is all." She spoke softly, kissing Zoey's cheek gently, tasting the salt from her tears on her lips. She tilted Zoey's head up so that she could meet her eyes.

"I'm not going anywhere, okay? Not today, not ever." Then she kissed her, softly, and grounding. She felt Zoey's body loosen up, and she leaned into the kiss more. "What time is it anyway?"

"It's nearly noon, babe. You slept all morning." She said with concern in her voice, still heavy with tears. "I thought i was gonna have to call Abby or Baby to help take you to the hospital or something. Until you finally woke up just now."

"I'm so sorry baby girl, I don't know exactly what happened. I woke up earlier at 7 and went back to sleep for a few hours originally before. Besides, you were being a koala again. So even if i did want to get up then, i wouldn't have been able to because you had me on lockdown." Zoey smiled through her tears, and she even laughed a little, her heart shaped mouth got wider. Rumi's heart clenched at the sight, and she couldn't help bit kiss her again. giving her little pecks, on her cheek, her nose, her neck. Everywhere. And Zoey was giggling so much now, completely forgetting the emotional ordeal.

Suddenly, Zoey got serious again, only for a moment. She turned around to look Rumi in the eyes, "Are you really okay, Rumi? Do you want to talk about it?"

Rumi couldn't help but glance down at her arms. the scars that are still visible, but mostly covered by tattoos on both arms. Zoey followed he gaze. She shifted, sitting  on her heels next to Rumi, placing her hand on her arm, over her scars. Rumi was just watching her.

"Was it about these again?" Zoey's asked, lifting her arm to her lips, kissing them softly. each kiss had it own little word or praise. "These are apart of you now." Kiss. "these are only from your past." Another kiss. She kissed the ones grouped on her wrist. "These make you strong." that one sent shivers up Rumi's arm and down her spine.

"Zoey..." Rumi watches her intently, she love this woman so much. And this woman loves her, all of her. Rumi's sure she wouldn't know what to do if she didn't have Zoey. She wouldn't be able to enjoy her quirkiness, her random little turtle facts, her chaotic energy that lights up every room she enters. She wouldn't want to lose that, ever. "I love you so much."

That made something stir in Zoey, she was back in Rumi's lap. She kissed her without warning, really kissing her. Rumi's began to wander with the kiss making her chest buzz. Her heart thudding against her ribs. One hand on Zoey's hip, and the other hand under her shirt, thumb brushing just under her breast. Zoey's breath hitched. She pulled away from Rumi, hearing her whimper a little at the separation.

"Why'd you stop?" She whined. She looked at Zoey with desperation in her eyes. She was buzzing all  over, and she was feeling it more down below too, Zoey just sat there in her lap, ever so slightly moving her hips. She knows what she's doing. And it's driving Rumi insane.

Zoey has a grin on her face that's driving Rumi mad, Rumi scoots down a little further her lower half is flatter on the bed. Zoey places her hand on Rumi's stomach, finger splayed over her skin, Rumi's breath hitches. "Zoeeyy..Please." Rumi twitches her hips. Zoey started this, she needed her to finish it.

"If i do this, I get to pick lunch, you slept through breakfast, soooo." Zoey leaned down, kissing Rumi's neck, making her twitch more underneath her.

"Yes, whatever you want, just please, I need you." Rumi was pleading at the end of the sentence. Hey voice coming out as a whine.

"Okay baby," Zoey said as she lifted Rumi's shirt above her breasts, Rumi's nipples getting harder against the cool air of the room. Zoey bent down and wrapped her mouth around a nipple, her other hand massaging her other breast, tongue flicking over her nipple. Making Rumi moan just from that. Zoey smiled despite the nipple in her mouth right now.

She hopped off of Rumi's lap, mouth still latched on the nipple, her hand slid down from her chest, over he stomach and to the band of her underwear, teasing her a bit.

"That's no fair!" She whined and whimpered at the teasing. "Baby, please touch me, i cant wait anymore." She was begging Zoey to get between her legs. This time she finally did.

She kissed Rumi again before finally moving down, trailing her hands along Rumi's curve. She lifted Rumi's legs up bending them how she wanted them, leaning in, kissing on top of he underwear. "Mmm, someone's been turned on for a while huh? You're soaked babe." She giggled a little then licked the fabric pressing her tongue deep into the fabric causing Rumi buck her hips at the feeling, moaning louder this time. " You like that?"

Rumi nodded her head fast, "Yes, I like it..." she whispers in another whimper.

Zoey takes her underwear off, Rumi completely bare from the waist down now. Zoey leaned in between  her legs, this time she doesn't hesitates. She immediately licks Rumi's folds digging in with her tongue, licking her clit and sucking on it occasionally. It's only taking her tongue because she already has to hold Rumi's hips down to the bed.

"Oh my god Zoey!" Rumi moaned out loud, not caring if she was heard by the neighbors. She needed this more than anything. She reached down, placing her hand in Zoey's hair, holding her head down so she couldn't lift her head away. "Fuck! Yes!" That made Zoey move her tongue faster on her clit, and suck harder, Rumi bucking her hips more. Zoey didn't let up, not until after Rumi came for her, which didn't take much longer.

She came, hard, rocking her hips a moaning so loudly, it made Zoey tingle all over. She still didn't stop though, she helped Rumi through it drinking every drop of Rumi's juices.

Rumi was breathing heavy, her legs were shaking slightly, and Zoey had a wide grin on her face like she did something she knew was terrible, but in a very good way. "So, how did i do Judge?" She asked playfully.

Rumi thought for a moment, "Hmmm.... I give it an 8 out of 10." she said with a smirk.

Zoey let out a scoff, "Only and 8?! Why?!" She squeaked.

"I took off a couple points for the teasing," Rumi said it smugly, with a grin. then pulled Zoey up to her lips to kiss her, tasing herself still on her mouth, moaning again at the taste of herself and Zoey too.

Zoey let out a little giggle. "That's fair, I suppose. Alright, c'mon lets go get you something to eat now, i bet you're starving."

"Oh I'm starving for something alright," she purred. "But, actual food does sound good too." They both got up and went into the kitchen to figure out what to eat.

"I know!" Zoey bounced as they walked out of the room to the kitchen. "How about rice bowls?"

"Hmm, that could work, i do love a good rice bowl for lunch. Okay, rice bowls it is then." She said with a sure nod.

The kitchen smelled faintly of sesame oil as Rumi filled the rice cooker with water and rice and, put the lid on it and turned it on. Zoey leaned against the counter, arms folded and eyes half-lidded, watching Rumi move.

“You’re so domestic right now,” Zoey teased. “Like, wifey material.”

Rumi raised a brow over her shoulder. “Wifey material? I’m literally just washing spinach.”

Zoey grinned, pushing off the counter and slipping behind her, wrapping her arms around Rumi’s waist. “Mm, yeah. That’s what I’m talking about.” She kissed her shoulder, earning a tiny sigh from Rumi.

“Zoey,” Rumi warned, trying not to smile. “If you distract me, we’re going to end up with burnt eggs and soggy spinach.”

“Worth it,” Zoey murmured against her neck, stealing a quick kiss there before darting back when Rumi swatted at her.

“Go slice the avocado if you’re going to be in here,” Rumi said, handing her the cutting board.

Zoey groaned dramatically but grabbed a knife. “Fine. But only because you threatened the eggs.” She started slicing, uneven wedges forming on the board.

Rumi glanced over. “Those are… creative.”

“Hey, they’ll taste the same going down,” Zoey argued, plucking one and popping it into her mouth.

The rice cooker clicked off, and Rumi scooped steaming rice into two bowls. She cracked eggs into the pan, frying them until the edges went crispy. Zoey leaned close again, this time brushing Rumi’s cheek with her lips.

“Stealing kisses isn’t part of meal prep,” Rumi muttered, though she tilted her head slightly, inviting another.

“Sure it is,” Zoey whispered before kissing her properly this time, slow and sweet.

When the eggs were done, Rumi carefully slid one onto each bowl of rice, topping them with spinach, avocado, sesame seeds, and kimchi. “There. Done.”

Zoey took her bowl, staring at it with a satisfied grin. “I think I’ll take the chef as my side dish.”

Rumi chuckled, sitting across from her. “Eat first, flirt later.”

Zoey leaned forward, chopsticks in hand, and stole one last kiss before digging in.

They settled at the small kitchen table, bowls steaming in front of them. The clink of chopsticks was the first sound, followed by Zoey’s exaggerated hum after the first bite.

“Oh my god, Rumi,” Zoey said, mouth half-full, “this is so good. Like—restaurant-level good.”

Rumi smirked, picking at her own bowl with neat precision. “That’s just rice, spinach, and eggs, Zoey. Don’t oversell it.”

“No,” Zoey said, pointing her chopsticks at her. “It’s love rice. The secret ingredient is you.” She winked.

Rumi nearly choked on her kimchi. “Love rice? Are you serious right now?”

“Dead serious.” Zoey scooped up avocado and rice in one bite. “You can taste it, can’t you? Mmm, yeah. Definitely love.”

Rumi shook her head, but her smile betrayed her. “You’re ridiculous.”

“Ridiculously in love with you, yeah,” Zoey shot back without hesitation, eyes dancing as she chewed.

That quieted Rumi for a moment. She looked down at her bowl, shoulders softening as heat spread across her cheeks. When she looked up again, Zoey was watching her with a grin that was softer than her usual teasing.

“…You’re lucky this rice is good,” Rumi said at last, voice lower, a little embarrassed.

Zoey leaned across the table, chopsticks still in her hand, and stole another kiss, tasting kimchi and sesame oil. “I’d eat burnt rice every day if it meant I got to do this,” she murmured.

“Stop making it weird and finish your food,” Rumi said quickly, though she kissed her again before pulling back.

Zoey grinned triumphantly and shoveled another mouthful of rice into her mouth. “Yes, chef.”

Chapter Text

The couch welcomed them like an old friend, the weight of a good meal and a clean kitchen making them both sink deeper into the cushions. Zoey sprawled out with her head on Rumi’s lap, scrolling absentmindedly through her phone while Rumi absentmindedly twirled a lock of her own dark hair around her fingers. The room was quiet except for the low hum of the fridge and the occasional buzz from Zoey’s notifications.

“I think I want to get a haircut,” Rumi said suddenly, her voice thoughtful but casual.

Zoey’s thumb froze mid-scroll. “Mm?” she hummed, not really processing until Rumi added—

“A wolf cut style.”

Thud. Zoey’s phone slipped right out of her hands and smacked her squarely in the face.

“Ow—shit!” she yelped, tossing the phone aside and immediately looking up at Rumi like she had just announced she was moving to Mars. “Excuse me—what the hell did you just say?”

Rumi blinked down at her, half-startled, half-amused. “What? A wolf cut. I’ve been thinking about it for a while now.”

Zoey propped herself up on her elbows, squinting like she was trying to read Rumi’s soul. “Out of nowhere you decide to drop that on me? While I’m vulnerable and laying here? You’re lucky I didn’t break my nose.”

Rumi’s lips curled into a smirk, though she hid it behind her hand. “You’re being dramatic. It’s just a haircut.”

“‘Just a haircut,’ she says.” Zoey flopped back down, pressing the back of her hand to her forehead like a stage actor faking death. “Do you even realize how hot that would be? You can’t just casually say stuff like that without a warning.”

Rumi raised an eyebrow, twirling the strand of hair again. “So… you’d like it?”

Zoey tilted her head back on Rumi’s lap, meeting her eyes with a look that was both playful and serious. “Babe. I would combust. You’d have people breaking their necks on the street.”

That made Rumi laugh, the kind of laugh she didn’t bother hiding. She leaned down just enough to kiss Zoey’s forehead, her voice softer when she pulled back. “Guess I’ll book an appointment, then.”

Zoey groaned dramatically again, pulling a pillow over her face. “This relationship is going to kill me.”

Rumi tugged on her black jeans, slipping her belt through the loops as her phone buzzed on the nightstand. She wiped her hands off on the hem of her tee before picking it up.

“Who’s that?” Zoey asked, already pulling her hair back into twin braids.

“Abby,” Rumi said, skimming the message. Her brows lifted slightly. “He’s not gonna make it tonight. He’s got a late client at the gym.”

Zoey paused mid-braid, frowning. “Oh… that sucks. Monday was chill, but Tuesday gets rowdy sometimes.”

“Yeah,” Rumi sighed, setting her phone down on the dresser. “He said he’s sorry. Promised to cover an extra night this week to make up for it.”

Zoey pursed her lips, then shrugged. “Not his fault. Work is work. Besides, we’ve handled worse without him.”

“True,” Rumi admitted, tugging on her leather jacket. “But it’s always nice having a human wall around just in case.”

Zoey smirked. “Please. You are the human wall. Remember beer-guy from last night? You practically suplexed him out the door.”

Rumi chuckled, shaking her head. “Okay, fair. Still, keep your eyes sharp tonight. Without Abby, we’re down to just us, Baby, and whoever’s brave enough to back us up.”

Zoey snapped the hair tie on her last braid, grabbed her jacket, and winked. “Don’t worry. If things go sideways, I’ll just unleash the deadliest weapon of all.”

Rumi raised an eyebrow. “Which is?”

Zoey grinned. “My terrifying five-foot glare.”

Rumi laughed out loud at that, slipping her arm around Zoey’s shoulders as they headed for the door. “Guess we’ll make do.”

Rumi and Zoey stepped out of their apartment building, the evening air crisp against their skin. Baby was leaning casually against the rail outside, hands shoved into the pockets of his ripped purple jeans, yellow beanie tilted slightly back. His teal hair peeked out from under the beanie, catching the fading light.

“You two are late,” he said, voice deep and calm, his usual monotone carrying just enough amusement.

Rumi grinned, jiggling her keys. “Traffic… on the stairwell,” she teased.

Zoey snorted. “Yeah, really intense elevator action.”

Baby raised an eyebrow, not buying it for a second. “Uh-huh. Sure. Come on, the bar isn’t going to set itself up.”

Rumi unlocked the door and pushed it open. “We know, we know. You’ve got everything covered?”

“Mostly,” Baby said, pushing off the railing and stepping aside. “I made sure the neon signs are all on, chairs straightened, peanut baskets filled. If anything explodes tonight, it won’t be my fault.”

Zoey rolled her eyes. “We’re not going to have an explosion. Probably.”

Rumi smirked, stepping inside. “Mostly kidding, though. Thanks for holding down the fort, Baby.”

“No problem. You two better hurry and get behind the bar before the first batch shows up.” He gave them a little salute before heading toward the back to do one last check.

The three of them moved through the familiar motions: Rumi grabbing clean towels, Zoey arranging napkins and coasters, Baby straightening up the tables one last time. Even without Abby, the rhythm of the bar felt reassuring.

Rumi glanced at Zoey, nudging her lightly. “Ready for the madness?”

Zoey grinned back, rolling her shoulders. “Always. Let’s do this.”

Baby’s quiet hum of approval followed them as the first few customers trickled in, and the night officially began.

The first few customers trickled in, a small group of coworkers looking to unwind after a long day. Rumi and Zoey fell into their usual rhythm behind the bar, Rumi polishing glasses while Zoey set down coasters and napkins. Baby hovered nearby, silently making sure everything stayed in place, his teal hair catching the glow from the neon signs above.

A man in a crisp suit approached the bar, glancing around nervously. “Uh… hi, can I get a beer? Something light.”

Rumi smiled warmly, sliding a cold pint across the counter. “Sure thing. First one’s on me if you’re new here.”

The man blinked, a little surprised, but chuckled. “Thanks… uh, I am.”

Zoey leaned over, whispering with a grin, “Welcome to our little corner of chaos.”

The man laughed, relaxing a bit as he took a sip. Baby silently refilled the peanut baskets, eyes casually scanning the small crowd. He didn’t speak much, but his presence was enough to keep the vibe steady and calm.

Another couple came in, chatting softly and taking a seat near the window. Zoey waved at them. “Evening! Table for two?”

“Yes, please,” the woman replied, smiling.

Rumi handed them menus, and Zoey poured a small glass of water for each, sliding it across the bar with a wink. “Just in case you get thirsty before you decide on chaos or calm.”

The first hour passed slowly, the bar barely half-full, but Rumi didn’t mind. She exchanged small talk with customers, sharing laughs and smiles while keeping an eye on Mira, a familiar face who had become a regular. Baby quietly adjusted a neon sign that had flickered, humming softly under his breath.

Zoey leaned on the bar, nudging Rumi. “See? No Abby. And nothing’s blown up yet. We’re thriving.”

Rumi smirked. “Barely. But yeah… I’ll take it.”

The door chimed again, signaling another guest. The slow rhythm of the bar—glass clinking, light chatter, and the quiet hum of neon—felt comforting. It was nothing wild, nothing chaotic. Just a Monday night at their bar, the three of them working together seamlessly.

The soft chime of the door echoed through the bar as it swung open. Zoey’s head immediately snapped toward it, and her eyes widened. “Rumi… look.” She nudged Rumi gently, who was crouched down behind the bar restocking a row of glasses.

Rumi straightened slowly, her movements deliberate, almost like a meerkat peeking out from its hole. She scanned the room, and then her eyes landed on the figure at the entrance—Mira.

Mira froze mid-step, shoulders tense, her hands clutching a small tote bag close to her chest. Relief washed over her face the instant she saw Rumi. It was subtle but unmistakable, like a weight she hadn’t realized she’d been carrying had just been lifted.

Rumi’s breath caught for a moment, seeing the change in her. “Hey,” she said softly, stepping out from behind the bar. Her voice was quiet but steady, meant to soothe.

Mira gave a small nod, eyes darting briefly to Zoey, who was already at her side, offering a gentle smile. Zoey lifted a hand, brushing a strand of hair back from Mira’s face—

—but Mira flinched. The movement was small, instinctive, but sharp enough to freeze Zoey in place.

Zoey’s hand halted midair before she slowly lowered it, guilt flickering across her features. “Sorry,” she whispered, keeping her voice low and careful.

Rumi saw it all. The flinch, the hesitation, and in that split second her chest tightened. Her dream from that morning flickered unbidden in her mind—Juno’s voice, Juno’s hand, the bruises, the way she’d been left feeling small and broken. She shoved it down fast. Not now. Not here. She wasn’t ready to let those scars bleed into the present.

Her eyes hardened, though her tone stayed even. “Zoey,” she said, not taking her gaze off Mira, “keep your hands to yourself.”

Zoey glanced at her, confused for half a heartbeat, but nodded silently.

Rumi softened her stance a fraction, turning her focus back to Mira. “Water?” she asked, sliding a glass across the bar just like the first night.

Mira hesitated, then accepted it carefully, letting out a shaky exhale. “Thanks… I… I wasn’t sure if I should come back tonight.”

Zoey stayed quiet now, folding her arms on the bar instead.

Rumi offered a small, steady nod. “We’re glad you did.”

Mira’s shoulders eased, just a little, and she allowed herself a faint, genuine smile.

The night moved along in waves—patrons drifting in and out, the neon signs humming gently against the walls, glasses clinking faintly behind the bar. Mira sat at her usual spot, quiet, her fingers absently tracing the rim of her glass of water.

Rumi wiped down the counter near her, keeping her distance but never straying too far. Her gaze flicked over to Zoey, who leaned casually against the back wall, her phone in hand. Rumi caught her eye and tilted her head ever so slightly toward Mira.

When Zoey walked closer, Rumi leaned in just enough so Mira couldn’t overhear. Her voice was low, steady. “Tonight, let’s give her space. Don’t hover. Just… stay close enough, in case anything happens.”

Zoey frowned, brows furrowing. “You think something’s wrong?” she whispered back.

Rumi’s eyes lingered on Mira. The girl’s posture was tense despite the faint smile she gave when customers brushed past her—like she was holding her breath and pretending to relax. Every small sound seemed to make her flinch, even if only slightly.

“I don’t know,” Rumi admitted, her voice carrying a weight that made Zoey straighten. “But she’s not telling us everything. I can feel it.” She shook her head once, lips pressed in a tight line. “We don’t need another repeat of that creep the other night. Just keep your eyes open.”

Zoey exhaled, sliding her phone into her pocket. “Got it. Space, but close. Bodyguard mode, but invisible.”

That got the faintest smirk out of Rumi, though it didn’t last long. Her attention shifted back to Mira, who sat quietly, sipping her water, her gaze distant.

Rumi couldn’t shake the thought pressing at the back of her mind. Something was going on with Mira—something bigger than just nerves about being in a bar. But until Mira was ready to talk… Rumi wasn’t about to push.

Instead, she stood back, polished a few glasses, and kept her watchful eyes on her neighbor, suspicion gnawing quietly at her chest.

The night had settled into a steady rhythm. It wasn’t packed, but the bar was comfortably full—laughter, pool balls clacking, the low thump of music vibrating faintly from the speakers. Rumi wiped down the bar top while Zoey worked the register, sliding drinks to a small group near the corner. Baby floated between tables, chatting and topping off baskets of peanuts.

Mira was still at the bar, nursing the same glass of water she’d ordered when she walked in. She seemed content to just sit and watch, her posture easing little by little as the minutes ticked by.

Rumi glanced at her a few times, noting that she was less stiff than before—until a man staggered up to the counter. He wasn’t sloppy drunk, but his words had that loose, lazy slur of someone who’d had one too many already.

“Another whiskey,” he muttered, sliding his glass forward.

Rumi poured him one without comment, setting it in front of him. That should’ve been the end of it—but then his gaze shifted sideways. His eyes landed on Mira.

“Don’t think I’ve seen you here before,” he said, voice carrying just enough to make Rumi’s shoulders tense. “You hiding out from someone?”

Mira stiffened, her hand freezing on the glass. She didn’t look at him, didn’t even flinch in his direction, just stared hard at the countertop.

The man chuckled. “Aw, come on, don’t be shy. Pretty thing like you shouldn’t be sitting all alone.”

Zoey took a step forward from her spot at the register, but Rumi caught her wrist quickly, shaking her head. “Wait,” she murmured.

Mira’s hand trembled around her glass. She finally turned, giving the man the faintest, polite smile. “I’m fine. Really.”

But when he reached out to pat her shoulder—casual, but uninvited—Mira jolted like she’d been burned. She nearly knocked her glass over, sliding off her stool so fast it scraped against the floor.

The man blinked, confused. “I—hey, sorry, I didn’t—”

“It’s fine,” Mira said quickly, her voice a little too sharp, too fast. She hugged her arms across her chest, shoulders hunched.

Rumi’s jaw clenched. She stepped in between Mira and the man, her tone cool and cutting. “She said she’s fine. That means back off.”

The man raised both hands, muttering something about “touchy” before grabbing his whiskey and shuffling back to his table.

Zoey exhaled through her nose, her hands tightening into fists at her sides. “She flinched,” she whispered to Rumi, anger simmering in her voice.

“I know,” Rumi said quietly, her eyes following Mira. The girl had retaken her seat, but she was still tense, her gaze locked on her glass like it was the only thing keeping her grounded.

Rumi turned back to Zoey, her expression unreadable. “It’s more than nerves. Something’s going on with her.”

And though neither of them said it out loud, they both knew it: Mira’s reaction wasn’t about tonight. It was about something else—something she hadn’t told them yet.

The bar slowly settled again, the hum of chatter and clinking glasses filling the space where tension had lingered. Rumi stayed close, her hands working automatically—wiping the counter, rinsing glasses—but her attention never drifted far from Mira.

Each time Mira’s water level dropped even an inch, Rumi was there, sliding a fresh glass in front of her without a word. No lemon slices this time, just cool, clean water. Something simple. Something steady.

Mira gave her a small, almost guilty glance the third time. “…Thanks.”

Rumi just offered the faintest smile. “Don’t mention it.”

Zoey leaned across the bar, close enough so only Rumi could hear. “She looks like she hasn’t eaten.”

Rumi nodded slightly. “Yeah. Think you can put something together? Nothing heavy.”

Zoey thought for a second, then her face softened. “Got it. Something warm. Easy.” She slipped into the small back kitchen, already rummaging through what they had.

Meanwhile, Rumi stayed where she was, giving Mira space but not leaving her side. She leaned casually against the bar, as if she were just stationed there like any other night. Still, she kept her voice low when she finally spoke.

“You don’t have to talk about what happened,” Rumi said softly, eyes on the rag in her hands rather than Mira. “But… you should eat something. Zo’s making you something light.”

Mira blinked, clearly startled. “You… don’t have to—”

“We know,” Rumi cut in gently. “But we want to.”

A few minutes later, Zoey reappeared with a small bowl of miso soup, steam curling up into the air. She set it down in front of Mira with a warm smile. “Here. Comfort food. Good for calming the nerves.”

Mira hesitated, looking between the two of them like she wasn’t sure if she deserved it. Finally, she wrapped her hands around the bowl, letting the warmth seep into her palms.

“…Thanks,” she murmured again, her voice almost too quiet to hear.

Rumi caught Zoey’s eye over Mira’s bowed head. They shared the same silent thought: She’s carrying more than she’s saying. But for now, this is enough.

Mira finished the last sip of her miso soup, setting the spoon gently inside the bowl. She slid it a little to the side, almost self-consciously, like she didn’t want to leave evidence she’d been taken care of.

Then, reaching into her bag, she pulled out a small, battered notebook. She cracked it open on the bar, the pages filled with graphite smudges and faint lines. Her posture curled in tighter as she hunched over it, pencil scratching softly against the paper.

Rumi was wiping down glasses again, but when she glanced over, her eyes caught on the open pages. Little sketches—fragmented shapes, partial faces, eyes that looked more real than the rest of the drawing. Something raw, like Mira had put too much of herself into them.

Rumi’s voice slipped out before she could stop it. “You draw?”

Mira froze, her pencil hovering mid-stroke. For a second she looked like she might slam the notebook shut, but instead, she just glanced sideways, not meeting Rumi’s eyes. “…Yeah. Sometimes.”

“They’re good,” Rumi said, keeping her tone even, not pushing. “Really good.”

Mira shifted uncomfortably, flipping the page like she wanted to hide the compliment. “…It’s just… sketches.”

Zoey leaned over from her side of the bar, curious, but Rumi gave her a tiny shake of the head—don’t crowd her.

Rumi let a moment pass before she added, softer this time, “Doesn’t matter. Still takes talent. Can I ask… what do you usually like to draw?”

Mira’s pencil tapped against the page, hesitating. Finally, she murmured, “Things I can’t say out loud.”

Her words were quiet, almost drowned out by the noise of the bar. But Rumi heard them, felt the weight behind them.

She didn’t press further. Instead, she nodded slowly, returning to her glasswork, letting Mira go back to her sketches without more questions.

The bar had settled into its usual low hum again, conversations mixing with the clink of glasses and faint music from the jukebox. Mira stayed hunched over her notebook, her pencil moving in quick, sharp lines. Rumi kept her distance but made sure Mira’s water stayed full, while Zoey quietly wiped down the counter nearby, stealing the occasional glance at her sketches.

Then, out of nowhere—

“Rumi!” Baby’s surprisingly deep voice boomed from behind the bar. “One of the neon signs is flickering again, I think we might need to—”

Mira startled so violently it made Rumi’s heart stop. Her whole body jolted like she’d been struck, her stool scraping against the floor before tipping over completely. She went down with it, the notebook skidding out of her hands.

“Mira!” Rumi was already moving, but Baby was faster. He dropped into a crouch, reaching out instinctively. His hands were smaller than most, almost delicate, and surprisingly soft for someone with his deep voice, but he moved with careful precision.

“Hey, hey—it’s okay! You’re okay!”

At first Mira cowered, arms up like she was shielding herself from a blow. Her breath came fast, ragged, panic clear in her eyes. Baby froze mid-reach, not touching her, his soft, skinny hands hovering just in case. His usually booming voice lowered to something impossibly gentle.

“…You’re safe. I promise.” His teal hair fell over his forehead as he tilted his head, giving her space, nothing demanding about his posture.

Mira peeked up at him, blinking, and something in his expression—gentle, patient, completely unthreatening—made her shoulders loosen slightly. She let out a shaky breath, then, slowly, she allowed him to help her up. His hands, though small and slender, were steady and warm, easing her back onto her feet.

“There we go,” Baby said quietly, brushing off the stool and setting it upright again like it weighed nothing. “Sorry, didn’t mean to spook you like that.”

Mira managed the faintest nod, clutching her notebook to her chest like a shield. “…It’s fine.”

Rumi caught Baby’s eyes, giving him a subtle nod of gratitude. Zoey placed a fresh glass of water on the counter in front of Mira, sliding it toward her like nothing had happened.

The bar noise filled in the silence again, but for Rumi, the sound of Mira’s labored breathing still echoed in her ears.

Once the rush of activity calmed, Rumi leaned against the bar and called quietly to Baby. “Hey… can I grab you for a sec?”

Baby glanced up from stacking glasses and nodded, following her to a quieter corner near the back.

“Look,” Rumi began, keeping her voice low, “about what happened with Mira just now… I know you didn’t mean to scare her, but… you kind of did. And she’s really skittish. Very easily startled.”

Baby tilted his head, teal hair falling slightly over his eyes. “I—I didn’t mean to. I just… wanted to tell you about the neon sign. I wasn’t thinking.”

“I get that,” Rumi said, softening slightly. “But next time, give her a little space. Don’t pop up behind her or make sudden movements. She can get… really tense, and you saw how quickly she fell with the stool. I don’t want her getting hurt.”

Baby’s small hands flexed nervously at his sides. “…Okay. I understand. I’ll be careful. I just… want to help.”

“I know,” Rumi said, placing a reassuring hand briefly on his shoulder. “And that’s good. Just… be mindful of her pace. Let her warm up to you. She’ll appreciate it.”

Baby nodded earnestly. “Got it. Mira first. I won’t startle her again.”

Rumi gave a tiny smile, satisfied. “Thanks, Baby. That means a lot.”

The bar had quieted down significantly, the clink of a few leftover glasses the only sound mingling with the soft hum of music. Mira sat at the bar, her notebook closed now, and Rumi kept an eye on her, making sure her water glass was still full.

Rumi leaned slightly over the counter. “Hey… you planning to stick around until closing, or are you thinking of heading out?”

Mira’s hands tightened slightly on the edge of the bar. “I… I should go,” she said quietly, avoiding eye contact. “I only planned to stay a few hours anyway.”

Rumi’s heart tightened at the way she said it. “You don’t have to walk home alone, Mira. It’s still a little late.”

Mira shook her head firmly, though Rumi could see the tension ripple through her. “No, really. I should go now. I’ve already stayed too long.” She swallowed hard, and Rumi noticed the slight flinch as she shifted in her stool.

Baby, who had been tidying up the bar nearby, stepped in quickly. “I can walk you home, Mira,” he said, his voice calm and steady. “No problem. Don’t need to worry about it.”

Mira hesitated, glancing at Rumi first, then back at Baby. “I… I really don’t want to trouble anyone.”

“You’re not troubling anyone,” Rumi said gently, though she hesitated for a moment. She hated the thought of Mira heading home alone tonight. “If you’re really set on leaving now, Baby can walk you. Just… text me when you get home safely, okay?”

Mira’s shoulders tensed, but after a moment she gave a small nod. “…Okay. I’ll text you.”

Rumi gave a reassuring smile. “Good. And… thanks for trusting us a little tonight, Mira. Really.”

Mira gave a small, almost imperceptible smile back before standing, gathering her bag, and letting Baby escort her out the door. Rumi watched her go, a tight knot of worry in her chest, but comforted slightly knowing she wasn’t walking alone.

Once the bar was finally quiet and the last echoes of the night faded with the closing door, Rumi and Zoey leaned against the counter, sighing in relief.

Zoey spoke first, her voice hesitant. “Rumi… uh… I saw something earlier, in Mira’s notebook.”

Rumi tilted her head, raising an eyebrow. “Saw something? What do you mean?”

Zoey shifted, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “I didn’t mean to, okay? I was just cleaning around her while she was focused on her soup. I glanced at her pages…” She swallowed hard. “…Some of the sketches… they were disturbing. Faces with dark shadows, bruises, cuts… eyes that looked… wrong. Really dark. Not what I expected at all.”

Rumi’s stomach tightened. “Oh…” she murmured, already piecing together what Zoey meant.

Zoey bit her lip, looking down at the counter. “…There was one too that looked like it might have been me? I’m not sure exactly. I only saw the bangs, and I know it was a girl, but… it freaked me out a little.”

Rumi reached over and gently rested her hand on Zoey’s. “Hey, it’s okay. You didn’t do anything wrong. You only saw it because you were cleaning around her. It doesn’t mean anything bad about you.”

Zoey nodded, but her brows were furrowed, still unsettled. “I know… I just can’t stop thinking about it. Those shadows, the cuts… something tells me she’s been through a lot.”

Rumi squeezed her hand, her own concern deepening. “Yeah. I think she has. And she’s not ready to talk about it yet. We just… give her space, and stay close enough that she knows we’re here.”

Zoey let out a long breath, leaning her forehead on Rumi’s shoulder. “I get it. But still… she scares me a little, in a way. Not her, but the thought of what she’s been through.”

Rumi hugged her close, whispering softly, “We’ll take it slow. Tonight was just the start. She’s safe here, with us, and that’s what matters.”

The two sat in silence for a moment, letting the weight of the night settle around them, the quiet of the empty bar wrapping them in a strange kind of calm after the tension.

The cool night air of Seoul brushed past them as they stepped out of the bar, the streets quieter now that most of the customers had left. Zoey kept a hand loosely on Rumi’s waist, her presence grounding as usual. For a while, neither spoke, the soft hum of distant traffic filling the space between them.

Finally, Rumi broke the silence, her voice low and hesitant. “Zo… I need to tell you something about this morning.”

Zoey glanced up at her, curiosity piqued. “Mhm? What’s up?”

Rumi took a deep breath, the words heavy on her tongue. “I had a dream… but it wasn’t really a dream. More like… bad memories I couldn’t fully process.” She hesitated, tightening her grip on her own bag strap. “It was about Juno.”

Zoey stiffened slightly, though she didn’t pull away. “Juno… your ex?”

Rumi nodded, her gaze fixed on the sidewalk ahead. “Yeah. She… she was abusive. Physically and emotionally. She used to make me do things… hurt myself. It was a way to feel something after being… numb from everything she did.” Her voice cracked a little at the admission, though she kept walking steadily.

Zoey’s hand squeezed hers gently. “Rumi…”

Rumi shook her head slightly, trying to regain composure. “That’s not even the worst part. This morning, in the dream—or memory—it felt real. And when I saw Mira tonight, walking in the bar, I… I think Juno might be the same girl that was with her. The blonde. The one holding onto her tightly, like she owned her.”

Zoey’s eyes widened, her brows furrowing in concern. “Wait… you think that girl with Mira… could be Juno?”

Rumi swallowed hard. “I don’t know for sure… but the way she held herself, the energy she gave off… I can’t shake the feeling I’ve seen it before. I’ve tried to push it down all day, but… it’s there. That memory, that instinct. I can’t ignore it.”

Zoey tightened her hold, moving closer. “Then we’ll be careful. I’ve got your back, Ru. Always. No one’s going to touch you—not her, not anyone.”

Rumi let out a shaky laugh, a mix of gratitude and lingering fear. “I know… and I’m lucky to have you. I just… hate that these memories can sneak up on me, like shadows I can’t run from.”

Zoey tilted her head, brushing a loose strand of hair behind Rumi’s ear. “Then we face them together. One step at a time.”

Rumi nodded, drawing comfort from Zoey’s words. They continued down the quiet streets, the neon reflections of the city glimmering on the pavement, each step a small reassurance that, whatever ghosts of the past might surface, they wouldn’t face them alone.

The two walked in comfortable silence, the city lights reflecting faintly off the wet pavement from an earlier rain. Rumi absently scrolled her phone, a small frown forming. Where’s Mira’s text? she wondered. She had been expecting it soon after Baby walked her home.

Finally, a notification pinged. She opened it, relief and curiosity mixing at once:

Mira:

Hey, I’m home safely. I know I said I was going to text when I got home, but my phone died and I didn’t know until I got in. I’m so sorry. It won’t happen again.

Rumi:

Hey, it's okay, I'm just glad baby got you home safely! We're home ourselves. Goodnight, Mira.

Mira:

...

Goodnight, Rumi

Rumi let out a small sigh, the tension in her shoulders easing. She glanced down at Zoey, who raised an eyebrow, sensing her relief.

“See?” Rumi said softly, sliding her phone back into her pocket. “She’s fine. Just… phone died.”

Zoey smirked, nudging her lightly with her elbow. “You were starting to worry there, huh?”

Rumi laughed quietly, shaking her head. “Maybe a little. I just… wanted to make sure she actually got home okay. I didn’t want anything to happen to her.”

Zoey looped her arm through Rumi’s as they continued walking. “Well, she’s lucky she’s got you looking out for her. Now, come on—we’ve got our own apartment waiting for us.”

Rumi smiled, letting the relief settle fully as they headed home together, the night carrying a quiet sense of safety that only came when the people you care about are truly okay.

Chapter Text

The walk home was quiet. Mira kept her arms crossed, shoulders hunched, eyes fixed on the sidewalk ahead. The city felt louder at night—every car horn sharper, every echo of laughter behind her heavier than it should’ve been. She didn’t want to be out here alone.

“Thanks,” she said softly, almost like the word slipped out without permission. Her eyes stayed forward. “I… didn’t want to walk home by myself.”

Baby adjusted his beanie, his voice calm and deep despite his skinny frame. “It’s no big deal. I just like helping out when I can.”

Mira nodded once, leaving it at that. Neither of them spoke again for the rest of the walk, the silence not uncomfortable, but heavy with everything left unsaid.

When their apartment building came into view, she slowed slightly. Baby didn’t react, but Mira could feel something shift in him—like he recognized it. He’d been here before. She knew the type; he was observant, but polite enough not to mention it.

At her door, she unlocked it with careful, quiet movements. “Goodnight,” she murmured, slipping inside quickly.

The latch clicked behind her. Mira pressed her back against the door, her chest rising and falling as she tried to breathe evenly. The silence of her apartment felt suffocating, but at least no one was watching. She closed her eyes, leaning against the wood, and let herself exhale slowly.

Mira finally peeled herself off the door, her legs feeling heavier than they should’ve been. She toed off her sneakers, lining them carefully next to the other pair by the door—like neatness could somehow ground her, make her feel normal.

She didn’t notice the glow spilling down the hallway until she turned the corner. The living room light was on.

Her steps faltered.

And then she froze.

Juno sat on the couch, one leg crossed over the other, her arms folded tight against her chest. Her long blonde hair framed a face that carried nothing but sharp edges tonight. Waiting. Watching.

Mira’s stomach dropped, the air thinning around her. Her pulse thundered in her ears, each beat faster than the last. The hairs on the back of her neck rose, her throat closing like she’d swallowed sand.

Her mouth went dry.

Her chest heaved once, twice. She couldn’t slow it down.

Juno tilted her head, eyes narrowing, the silence stretching.

Mira couldn’t move. Couldn’t even blink. All she could feel was the icy weight of dread pressing her deeper into the floor.

Juno’s voice cut through the silence like a blade.
“Where have you been?”

Mira’s body jolted at the sound, her fingers tightening around the strap of her bag.

Juno uncrossed her legs and leaned forward, her long blonde hair spilling over her shoulders as her eyes sharpened. “I told you how long you were supposed to be out. You think I wouldn’t notice when you didn’t come back on time?”

Her voice wasn’t quite a shout, but it was edged, sharp, and rising with every word. The sound made Mira’s chest cave in. She flinched, taking half a step back like the space between them could somehow protect her.

“I—” Mira’s voice caught in her throat, small and hoarse. She wanted to explain, but her tongue felt too heavy, like every word would only make it worse.

Juno’s tone cracked louder. “Do you think I’m stupid? That I don’t see what’s going on?”

Mira swallowed hard, her eyes darting to the floor, her breath coming too fast. She hugged her bag against her chest like a shield, her shoulders curling in on themselves.

Mira’s gaze drifted downward, too afraid to meet Juno’s eyes. Her chest rose and fell unevenly, breaths shallow. That’s when she noticed it—her hands weren’t empty.

Her fingers clenched around the neck of a glass bottle.

Alcohol.

The label was half-peeled, condensation dripping from it onto her palm. Mira hadn’t even realized she’d been holding it until that moment. The sight made her stomach knot and her body stiffen, her heartbeat slamming against her ribs.

She didn’t dare look up.

If Juno had been drinking—if she was already angry—there was no telling how bad tonight could get.

The silence stretched thin and dangerous, Juno’s shallow breathing the only sound filling the room.

Mira gripped the strap of her bag tighter with her free hand, her knuckles pale, fighting the instinct to bolt for the bedroom.

Juno tipped her head back and drained the last of the bottle in one long swallow, her throat working as Mira stood frozen by the doorway. The sharp clink of glass echoed as she dropped the empty bottle onto the coffee table with enough force to make it rattle against the wood.

Then she stood.

Slow, deliberate steps carried her across the room, the air between them growing heavier with every stride. Mira’s breathing quickened, her back pressing against the door as though she could disappear into it.

“You have one chance,” Juno said, her voice low but razor-sharp. Her blond hair fell over her shoulder as she leaned in closer, eyes narrowing. “One chance to tell me the truth. Where. Were. You.”

Mira swallowed hard, her throat tight. “I-I told you. I went to a bar. Just for a little while.”

Juno’s lips twisted into a bitter, mocking smile. “A bar? You?” She laughed, but there was no humor in it, only venom. “You don’t drink, Mira. You never drink. So why lie to me? Who were you really with?”

Mira shook her head quickly, voice trembling. “I wasn’t with anyone. I just… I needed to be out for a bit. That’s all.”

But Juno leaned in even closer, her shadow swallowing Mira whole. “No. That’s not all. Don’t you dare play games with me. If you were at a bar, then prove it. Tell me who you were with.”

Mira’s breath hitched, fear tightening every muscle in her body.

Mira’s hands clenched at her sides, her chest tightening. She couldn’t meet Juno’s gaze; the fear rooted her in place. “I… I was alone,” she whispered, her voice barely audible.

Juno scoffed, stepping closer, her presence looming over Mira. “Alone? Don’t lie to me. I know you weren’t alone. Tell me who you were with, or—”

Mira shook her head violently, tears pricking the corners of her eyes. “I… I can’t. Please… I can’t tell you.”

Juno’s jaw tightened. “You can’t or you won’t?”

Mira’s voice wavered. “I… I won’t. It’s not safe.”

“Not safe?” Juno’s tone rose, sharp and incredulous. “You think I care about safety when you lie to me? Who are you protecting?”

Mira swallowed, trembling, her eyes glancing toward the floor. “No one… no one but myself. I can’t… I can’t put anyone else in danger.”

Juno’s face twisted with fury, her hand tightening around the empty bottle she still held. “You’re hiding something from me. Who?”

“I can’t say,” Mira repeated, her voice firmer now despite the fear. “But I’m not lying about where I went. I was at the bar. That’s all I can say.”

Juno’s shoulders tensed, her shadow stretching over Mira. Her breathing was heavy, filled with anger and disbelief, but Mira didn’t back down. Her body shook, her heart raced, but she kept her voice steady. She wouldn’t give Juno Rumi or Zoey’s names. She couldn’t.

For a moment, Juno’s glare pierced through the room like a storm, but Mira didn’t flinch. Her mind clung to the thought of Rumi and Zoey, safe and unaware, and it gave her the strength to stand firm.

“You… you’re testing me,” Juno hissed, the bottle clattering slightly against the table again.

“I’m not your test,” Mira said, her voice quieter but resolute. “I’m me. And I won’t tell you.”

Juno’s eyes narrowed, lips pressed into a thin line, but for the first time, Mira noticed a pause in the anger—a flicker of hesitation.

Juno’s patience snapped completely. With a sharp motion, she slammed the bottle onto the table, the glass shattering with a loud crash. The sound made Mira jump violently, her body recoiling, heart hammering in her chest.

“Do you think I’m kidding?” Juno hissed, leaning in close. Her fingers curled around a jagged shard of glass, pressing the sharp edge dangerously against Mira’s cheek. A bead of blood could have formed at the slightest slip.

Mira froze, swallowing hard, her throat dry, every instinct screaming to pull away—but she didn’t. She couldn’t. Not if it meant giving Juno any reason to lash out further. Her breaths came fast, shallow, each one a struggle to keep herself calm.

“I… I told you the truth,” Mira stammered, her voice shaking. “I went to the bar. I didn’t do anything wrong. Please…”

Juno’s eyes, sharp and furious, bore into hers. “Then why the lies? Why the secrets?”

Mira’s hands trembled at her sides, but she forced herself to stay still. “I wasn’t lying about where I went,” she whispered. “I just… I can’t tell you who I was with. I can’t. It’s not safe. Please don’t make me…”

Juno pressed the shard a fraction closer. Mira flinched but gritted her teeth, refusing to let fear make her speak. She knew she couldn’t give Juno Rumi or Zoey’s names—they were the only ones she trusted, and revealing them could put them in danger.

For a heartbeat, the room seemed to hold its breath. The jagged glass reflected the light, a silent threat hovering inches from Mira’s skin. She felt trapped, powerless, yet determined.

“I… I can’t,” she repeated, voice steadier now, though her body shook. “I won’t. You’ll have to leave me alone.”

Juno’s glare pierced her, every muscle in her body taut with anger, but Mira didn’t move. She held her ground, clinging to the thought of safety, of keeping others out of harm’s way, even if it meant facing Juno’s rage alone.

Juno’s face twisted with frustration, anger flaring brighter with every second Mira stayed silent. “You think you can just hide things from me?” she spat, stepping closer.

The jagged edge of the broken bottle pressed against Mira’s cheek, sharp enough to make her flinch, but not cutting—just enough to threaten. Mira’s pulse raced, her body frozen in place as the cold glint of glass reflected the harsh living room light.

“Answer me!” Juno’s voice rose, trembling with fury. “Where were you really? Who were you with?”

Mira’s throat felt raw, her lips dry, but she forced herself to hold her ground. She could feel the pressure of the glass against her skin and hear the subtle scrape when Juno shifted it slightly, testing her fear. Her entire body screamed to pull away, but she stayed still, swallowing hard, trying to steady her trembling hands.

“I… I told you,” Mira whispered, her voice barely audible. “I was at the bar. That’s all. Nothing more.”

Juno’s eyes narrowed, her jaw tight. She pressed the glass a fraction closer, just enough to remind Mira she wasn’t joking. “You’re lying,” she hissed. “I know you’re lying.”

Mira’s stomach churned, but she refused to give in. “I’m not lying about where I was,” she said, her voice steadier now, though fear lingered beneath every word. “I can’t tell you anything else. You’ll have to believe me—or not. But I’m not giving you what you want.”

Juno’s face contorted, rage threatening to boil over, but the tension held. Mira’s wide eyes, her defiance despite the fear, seemed to catch her off guard just enough to make her hesitate, even if only for a heartbeat.

The broken glass pressed lightly against her cheek, a silent warning, and Mira’s chest tightened—but she refused to flinch again. She wouldn’t give Juno the satisfaction.

Juno let out a sharp scoff, her blond hair swinging as she turned, muttering, “Pathetic.” Mira’s chest rose with a flicker of hope—maybe, just maybe, Juno had finally believed her.

But that hope shattered in an instant. A backhanded slap cut across Mira’s cheek, loud enough to echo off the walls. She stumbled sideways, catching herself on the edge of the couch, heart hammering, skin burning from the impact.

Before she could fully recover, Juno hurled the broken bottle toward her. Mira’s reflexes kicked in, and she twisted just in time to dodge it, the jagged shards clattering harmlessly against the floor.

The near miss only fueled Juno’s fury. Her lips curled into a snarl, eyes flashing with anger, and she took a step closer, fists clenching. “You think you can dodge me? You think you can defy me?” Her voice trembled with rage, every word sharp as a knife.

Mira’s body tensed, adrenaline surging, but the taste of fear was tempered by a spark of determination. She wasn’t going to let Juno see her break—not fully. She needed a way out, a way to survive this night without letting it escalate even further.

Juno’s hand shot up, fingers wrapping tightly around Mira’s throat. The pressure wasn’t enough to cut off her air completely, but enough to make every breath a struggle. Mira’s hands flew to Juno’s wrist, clawing, pulling, trying to pry it off—but Juno’s grip was iron, unshakable.

The stench of alcohol hit her nose, burning her senses, making her stomach twist. Her back slammed against the wall with a dull thud, the vibration rattling through her spine. Juno leaned in close, her breath hot and sharp.

“You are mine,” Juno hissed, eyes wild and glassy. “Only mine. And you will obey me—no matter what.” Her grip tightened just a fraction, enough to make Mira’s vision swim at the edges.

Tears burned in Mira’s eyes as she choked out the words, her voice raw and strained:
“How… how can I be yours… if all you do… is hurt me… for the slightest inconvenience?”

Her chest heaved against Juno’s hold, but the words hung in the air like a crack in the mask—small, but real.

Juno’s grip on her throat trembled, not from weakness but from boiling rage. “You don’t have to do a damn thing,” she spat, her voice sharp and cruel. “I give you everything—everything you could ever need or want!”

Mira’s tears blurred her vision, her voice raw and cracking as she forced the words past Juno’s hand.
“I… I don’t want anything from you…”

For a heartbeat, silence. Then Juno’s expression twisted, her teeth bared.

“You ungrateful little bitch,” she snarled. With a violent yank, she tore Mira off the wall by her throat and hurled her toward the couch. But her aim was off—her drunken strength misjudged. Mira’s body crashed onto the coffee table instead, wood splintering and glass shattering in an ear-splitting crack.

Mira landed sideways, the breath knocked from her lungs in a sharp wheeze. Pain erupted across her side as shards of glass embedded into her skin, a couple deep enough to sting with every ragged gasp. Blood spread fast, soaking her shirt, her chest rising and falling too quickly.

Juno stood over her now, fists clenched so tight her knuckles whitened. Her chest heaved as she loomed, glaring down. “Look at you,” she scoffed, her voice full of venom. “Pathetic. Weak. You can’t even stand without me.”

Mira pressed a trembling hand against her bleeding side, trying to steady herself on the floor. Her voice came out broken, strained.
“All you do is hurt me… every time. How is that love, Juno?”

Juno’s lip curled into a sneer, fists shaking at her sides. “Don’t talk to me about love. You’re mine. Mine, and only mine. And you will do what I say, when I say it. Or I’ll make sure you regret it.”

Mira, gasping for air, managed to meet her eyes through the blur of tears. Her words came out faint but defiant:
“Then I’ll regret it forever… because I’ll never be yours.”

That flash of defiance only deepened the rage burning in Juno’s face as she took a threatening step closer, fists tightening, ready to lash out again.

Juno’s shadow loomed larger as she stepped closer, fists trembling at her sides, chest rising and falling with each furious breath. She crouched halfway, her sneer curling into something more vicious.

“You think you’re better off without me? Hah.” Her voice dropped lower, sharp as glass. “Don’t forget where you came from, Mira. I’m the one who saved you. When your precious family was ready to throw you out like trash, who took you in? Who gave you a roof, a bed, food in your mouth?”

Mira clutched her bleeding side, struggling to keep her body upright against the shattered coffee table. Her lips quivered, but she didn’t answer. She couldn’t—her throat still raw from Juno’s grip.

Juno’s smile widened, but it was cruel, mocking. “And you know what? I understand them now. I get why they didn’t want you. Weak, pathetic, always clinging to anyone who gives you scraps of kindness. You’re nothing without me, Mira. Nothing.”

Her fist lashed out suddenly, striking Mira across the face. The blow snapped her head to the side, stars exploding behind her eyes. Mira collapsed halfway onto the floor, a groan slipping past her lips.

Juno stood over her, fists still shaking, her voice venom dripping.
“Don’t you dare look at me like you’re defiant. You want to test me? I’ll remind you every damn day why you’re mine. And if you even think about running—” She leaned down, her face inches from Mira’s, the stench of alcohol washing over her. “—you won’t survive a week out there. Not without me. You’d crumble.”

Mira’s breaths came quick and shallow, her cheek already swelling from the hit, blood still seeping from her side. She wanted to scream back, to say she wasn’t nothing—but her voice caught in her throat. The words wouldn’t come.

Instead, she lowered her gaze, shaking, while Juno straightened up with a victorious scoff. “That’s what I thought.”

Juno’s eyes flicked over Mira’s trembling form, fists still clenched. She stepped closer again, leaning down so her face was dangerously close.

“You think I won’t finish what I started?” she hissed, voice low, almost a growl. “I’ve saved you once, I can take control anytime I want. And don’t even think about fighting me—I own you.”

Mira shook her head weakly, trying to push herself away, but her body ached from the previous blows. Her side throbbed, and her cheek was already swelling. She tried to speak, to tell Juno she didn’t belong to anyone—but the words stuck in her throat.

Juno grabbed her by the wrist this time, yanking her up from the coffee table. “No words, huh? That’s fine. I’ll make you understand. You will obey. You’ll learn.”

She forced Mira to her knees in front of the couch, her grip on Mira’s hair firm but not tearing. “Look at me,” Juno commanded, her voice sharp as steel. “Say it. Say you’re mine. That you belong to me.”

Mira’s head shook violently, but the effort was weak. Tears pricked her eyes—not just from the physical pain, but the suffocating fear, the memories Juno dredged up, and the helplessness she felt.

“You don’t get it, do you?” Juno spat, voice rising. “I saved you! From your trash of a family! And now, after everything I’ve done, you still resist?”

Mira’s chest heaved. “I… I don’t… I don’t want anything from you,” she whispered, voice hoarse.

Juno’s eyes narrowed. “You will want me. You will obey me. And if you don’t… I’ll make you regret it. Every. Single. Day.”

She pressed a hand firmly to Mira’s shoulder, holding her down, forcing her to stay in place. The bruises on Mira’s body, the blood from her side—none of it mattered to Juno. She was in control, and Mira knew, with a sinking feeling in her gut, that resistance would only make the pain worse.

Mira finally stopped struggling, chest heaving, arms trembling. She stared at the floor, silently accepting the dominance Juno forced over her. Her mind screamed to run, to fight—but her body refused. Submission wasn’t a choice tonight; it was the only way to survive.

Juno let out a satisfied, low laugh. “Good girl. That’s how it’s supposed to be. You’ll learn… eventually.”

The apartment fell silent once Juno’s footsteps disappeared into the bedroom. Mira’s body sagged against the couch, knees digging into the carpet, the pain in her side pulsing with every shallow breath. The broken glass glittered mockingly at her, remnants of the chaos that had just unfolded.

She swallowed hard, trying to steady her trembling hands. Her fingers brushed against a shard of glass, tiny cuts opening across her palm, drawing a sting that made her flinch. The sharp reality of her own fragility settled over her like a weight.

I can’t… I can’t just stay here like this, she thought, though her body refused to cooperate. Every muscle screamed in protest as she tried to rise. Her legs buckled, and she fell forward, landing painfully on her hands. She closed her eyes, taking a shallow, ragged breath.

Minutes passed. Each second felt like an eternity. The apartment was quiet. Too quiet. Mira forced herself to focus, to gather the scraps of strength left in her, making sure Juno wasn’t coming back. She crawled, slow and painstaking, toward the bathroom. Her hands scraped along the floor, knees catching on the carpet, her breath hitching with every movement.

Finally, she reached the doorway. Her reflection stared back at her from the mirror above the sink—eyes wide, cheeks streaked, lips pale. Cuts dotted her arms and side; bruises were already blossoming in angry purples and yellows. Her hair stuck to her forehead in damp strands, and her body trembled uncontrollably.

She caught her own gaze and something inside her cracked.

How many times am I going to let this happen? How many times will I come home and feel like I’m nothing more than this?

Mira’s shoulders shook as tears spilled down her cheeks. She pressed her hands against the sink, gripping it like an anchor, willing herself to stay upright.

I’m tired. I’m so tired of looking like this… tired of feeling like this… tired of pretending I’m okay when I’m not. How is this my life? Why do I let her… why do I let her…

Her vision blurred with tears, and she pressed her face against the cool porcelain. The weight of everything—the fear, the pain, the helplessness—pressed down until it felt like she might sink through the floor.

I can’t keep doing this. I can’t. I have to… I have to do something. I can’t… I just…

Her thoughts spun in a dizzying loop. Rage, shame, fear, exhaustion—they tangled together so tightly that she couldn’t separate them. She pressed her palm to her cheek, still hot from the slap, and her fingers brushed the small scratches from the glass.

I’m done… I’m so done… I don’t want this anymore… I don’t want to feel like I’m nothing.

Her knees buckled again, but this time she let herself sit, letting the tears flow freely. Mira’s reflection in the mirror wasn’t just the image of a battered girl—it was a stark reminder of everything she had endured, everything she hadn’t shared, everything she wanted to escape.

She closed her eyes, breathing shakily, wishing for even a fraction of the safety she felt around Rumi and Zoey. The quiet bathroom, the faint hum of the city outside, it wasn’t much—but for the first time since the evening began, Mira let herself want it.

I need to survive this. I have to. Somehow.

And for the first time that night, she let herself hope—even just a little—that maybe, someday, she could.

She slid down to the bathroom floor, leaning back against the wall, the cold tile pressing against her bruised side. She took a shaky breath, trying to focus, to stop her mind from spiraling. Her hands were trembling, but she grabbed the small first-aid kit tucked under the sink.

I can’t go back there—not like this. Rumi and Zoey… they can’t see me like this. Not broken, not… weak.

Her fingers worked clumsily, cleaning the smaller cuts with antiseptic, wincing each time the cloth brushed against raw skin. Her body ached everywhere, the lingering sting from Juno’s grip on her throat, the backhanded slap, and the shards that had sliced into her side.

And if I go back… if I see her again… there’s no telling what she’ll do. No telling how much worse it could get.

Mira clenched her jaw, trying to ignore the trembling in her hands. She wanted to be strong—for herself, if no one else. She pressed a cool gauze to the smaller cuts, then slowly stood, leaning over the sink to inspect her side in the mirror.

Her stomach sank. There it was. A larger shard she hadn’t noticed before, lodged deep, hidden by the angle she had fallen at the coffee table. Her breath hitched at the sight—the cut was jagged, bleeding more than the others, the pain sharp enough to make her knees buckle.

Shit… that’s bad.

Her hands hovered over the wound, hesitation freezing her in place. She wasn’t sure if she could pull it out herself without making it worse. But she didn’t want to call for help—not yet. Not while thinking about Rumi and Zoey seeing her like this.

She took a deep breath, forcing herself to steady her hands. She cleaned around the wound carefully, trying to stop the bleeding enough to bandage it as best as she could. Her fingers shook violently, the pain radiating up her ribs and into her chest. Tears pricked her eyes, but she refused to let them fall. She couldn’t let herself break again—not here, not now.

I’ll heal. I have to. I just… have to stay away for a while. Keep my distance… until I can face them without looking like this.

Her eyes flicked to the apartment door through the reflection in the mirror, a sudden pang of fear curling in her chest. The thought of Juno didn’t leave her mind. Mira knew this wouldn’t end tonight. She’s going to make my life a living hell… and I don’t know how I’ll stop it.

She pressed the bandage firmly against the larger cut, winced, and took another shaky breath. She could hear her heartbeat in her ears, loud and rapid. Every muscle in her body screamed at her to curl up and hide, but she forced herself to stand, even if only for a moment.

I can do this. I’ll get through tonight. And tomorrow… maybe I can figure out how to survive what comes next.

The bathroom felt suffocating, the shadows pressing in on her. Mira’s hands were sticky with blood, her side throbbed, and yet she refused to sink into despair. Not yet. Not now. She finished cleaning up the supplies, slipping the bloodied gauze into a small plastic bag, and collapsed against the wall again, sliding slowly down until she was sitting on the cool tile floor.

Outside, the city hummed faintly. Inside, Mira sat in silence, her reflection staring back at her like a warning. She’d survived this night—but she knew, deep down, it was only the beginning.

Mira sank further into the bathroom floor, her bandaged side pressed against the cold tile. The bruises were already beginning to bloom across her skin, a vivid reminder of how fragile she’d felt under Juno’s grip. She hugged her knees, staring blankly at the wall, trying to will the panic away.

I can’t… I can’t confront her again. Not now. Not ever.

Her mind raced with the memory of Juno’s glare, the way she’d shoved her, grabbed her throat, and pressed the shard against her cheek. Every movement, every word from Juno had left a mark—both on her body and in her chest.

I just… have to do whatever she wants. Keep my head down. Make it through until these bruises fade, and maybe… maybe I can show my face again at the bar.

The thought of Rumi and Zoey, so close yet impossibly out of reach, made her chest ache. They lived next door. She could practically see them if she dared, could walk across the hall and knock on their door. But even that simple idea made her flinch.

Not while Juno’s still fuming. She’d track me down in a heartbeat if I tried to leave. I can’t risk it.

Mira pressed her forehead against her knees, exhaling shakily. Her hands still trembled, but she forced herself to focus on one thing at a time: staying low, staying quiet, staying safe.

For now… I stay home. I survive. That’s all I can do.

She curled into herself on the tile floor, letting the quiet of her apartment swallow her. Outside, Seoul hummed with life, but inside, Mira kept still, invisible, waiting for the bruises to fade and the world to feel safe again—if it ever would.

Mira stayed curled on the cold bathroom floor, her arms wrapped around herself as if she could somehow shield her body and her spirit at the same time. The pain throbbed along her side where the glass had pierced her, and every movement reminded her of Juno’s hands on her throat, the cold edge of the bottle shard against her skin.

Silent tears slid down her cheeks, hot and relentless, each one a release for the fear and frustration she had buried all day. She couldn’t cry out loud—not with Juno’s presence looming in her mind, not with the memory of Rumi and Zoey so close yet unreachable.

I can’t show them like this. Not like this. Not until…

Her body shook with quiet sobs, the room spinning slightly from exhaustion and pain. She pressed her face into her knees, wishing for comfort, wishing for safety, wishing for anyone to be able to pull her out of the fear she couldn’t shake.

Hours passed in that stillness, the hum of the city outside a faint, indifferent lullaby. Mira didn’t move. She didn’t eat, didn’t clean, didn’t call for help. She simply let herself dissolve into the floor, letting the tears flow until her muscles finally gave out, until sleep crept in quietly, claiming her for the night.

For the rest of the night, Mira stayed there, hidden and trembling, surrendering to the darkness and the quiet, letting the small exhaustion of her body take over what her heart could not yet forgive.

Chapter Text

The next morning, sunlight bled through the curtains, warm against Rumi’s back as she leaned over Zoey. She brushed soft kisses across Zoey’s cheek, then her lips, lingering until Zoey stirred with a sleepy hum.

“Mmm… you’re trouble,” Zoey whispered, eyes still half-closed.

“Maybe,” Rumi teased, kissing her again before pulling away just enough to coax her fully awake.

They moved slow through the morning, breakfast easy and familiar—eggs, toast, coffee—before lacing their shoe for their usual jog. The rhythm of running together steadied Rumi, but only on the surface. Inside, her thoughts snagged and tangled, looping back to the unease from the night before, Mira’s flinch, her dream, and the shadow of Juno.

By the time they reached the gym, Zoey was chatting with another regular, but Rumi drifted off toward her own set, her focus distant.

Abby noticed. He always noticed. The big guy finished wiping down a bench and walked over, his expression calm but sharp in the way only a friend’s could be.

“You’re somewhere else today,” Abby said, leaning on the machine beside her.

Rumi shook her head, gripping the weights tighter. “It’s nothing.”

Abby raised an eyebrow. “Don’t give me that. I’ve seen you when it’s nothing. This? This isn’t nothing.”

She kept her eyes forward, jaw set, but the truth pressed heavy behind her ribs.

Rumi adjusted the wraps on her hands, avoiding Abby’s searching eyes. “Not today,” she muttered. “Just… box with me. I need it.”

Abby gave her a long look, then nodded. “Alright. But don’t think I won’t circle back later.”

They squared off in the ring, Abby holding the pads steady. Rumi threw the first few jabs quick and sharp, but there was a hesitation behind them, a restraint.

“Focus on your breathing,” Abby coached. “Don’t overthink. One strike at a time.”

Rumi exhaled hard and punched again—faster this time. Then again, and again. The sting in her knuckles pushed away the cloud of thoughts. But as her rhythm built, so did the pressure in her chest.

What if it is Juno?
What if she’s hurting Mira the same way she hurt me?

Her fists slammed harder into the pads.

“Good—again,” Abby said, bracing himself. But his eyes flicked up, catching the edge in hers.

Rumi’s breath came ragged as she threw a kick, then another. The sound of the pads echoed sharp in the gym, turning a few heads.

“Rumi,” Abby called over the strikes, his voice low but steady. “You’re not fighting me right now. Who are you fighting?”

Her jaw clenched. She didn’t answer—just drove another punch into the pad, so forceful it made Abby step back a little.

“Hey,” he said firmly, lowering the pads a fraction. “Whatever it is, don’t let it eat you alive in here. You’ll burn out.”

Rumi froze, chest heaving, sweat dripping down her brow. She looked at him, a storm behind her eyes.

“…If someone’s hurting her,” she muttered under her breath, almost too quiet to hear, “I can’t let it happen again.”

Abby tilted his head, brow furrowed. “Her?”

Rumi shook her head quickly, stepping back. “Forget it. Just—come on. Again.”

Abby didn’t push, but the concern stayed etched on his face as he raised the pads once more.

Abby lifted the pads again, his stance firm. “Alright. Round two. Let’s go.”

Rumi nodded, rolling her shoulders back. She tried to steady her breathing, but her fists were already itching to move.

“Jab, cross. Keep it clean,” Abby ordered.

Rumi snapped forward. Pop. Pop.

“Good. Again. Faster.”

Her knuckles struck harder, sharper. Sweat clung to her temples. The anger didn’t fade—it fueled her. Each punch felt heavier than the last, rattling the pads in Abby’s hands.

“Careful, Rumi,” Abby grunted as a particularly hard strike nearly knocked his hand off center. “You’re gonna break my wrists if you keep hitting like that.”

“Then keep up,” Rumi shot back, voice edged, almost daring him.

From the corner of the gym, Zoey leaned against the ropes, arms crossed, watching with wide eyes. She hadn’t seen Rumi fight like this in months.

Abby adjusted his grip and gave her a look. “Alright then. Hook. Right side.”

Rumi twisted, her punch landing with a thud so sharp that Zoey winced just from the sound.

“Damn, Rum,” Zoey muttered under her breath. “What’s gotten into you?”

Rumi ignored it, pressing forward, throwing combinations as if the pads themselves had done her wrong.

Abby steadied himself again, his calm voice grounding her. “Good power. But don’t lose your form. Power’s nothing if it’s wild.”

Another punch. Her breath tore from her lungs with each strike.

Zoey finally spoke up louder, stepping closer. “Babe, you’re gonna knock his arms clean off at this rate.”

Rumi’s chest rose and fell sharply as she dropped her hands for a second, staring at the mat. “…I just need this right now, Zo.”

Zoey tilted her head, concern softening her voice. “I can see that.”

Abby raised the pads again. “One more set, then we call it. You’re running hot.”

Rumi wiped sweat from her brow, jaw tight. “…Fine. One more.”

As she struck the pads again, Zoey leaned on the ropes, biting her lip. She didn’t like the storm she saw in Rumi’s eyes—but she also knew sometimes, letting her punch it out was the only way to keep her steady.

The final set ended with a loud whap that made Abby step back, shaking his hands out. “Jesus, Rum. You been storing that up since last week?”

Rumi bent forward, hands on her knees, sweat dripping from her chin. “…Something like that.”

Abby lowered the pads and gave her a small smile, though his eyes were serious. “You don’t wanna tell me what’s eating you, fine. But—don’t carry it alone forever. You know where to find me.”

She met his gaze for just a second, then nodded faintly. “…Thanks, Abby.”

“Anytime,” he said simply, patting her shoulder with his big hand before walking toward the water fountain.

Zoey was already there, towel draped around her neck, waiting. She stepped in front of Rumi, tilting her head with that spunky grin that softened everything. “Okay, Terminator. Wanna explain why you were trying to turn Abby into a pancake?”

Rumi smirked faintly, though it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “…Needed to let something out.”

Zoey didn’t push—just reached up on tiptoe and pressed a kiss to Rumi’s cheek. “Then next time, maybe try yelling into a pillow? Pads don’t fight back, you know.”

Rumi chuckled lowly, wiping her face with her towel. “Yeah, but it doesn’t feel the same.”

Zoey rolled her eyes, looping her arm through Rumi’s. “Alright, bruiser. Come on. Cool-down, stretch, water, then food. Doctor Zoey’s orders.”

As Abby glanced back at them from across the gym, he caught Rumi’s eyes once more and gave her a knowing nod. He didn’t need to say it—but his message was clear. Whenever you’re ready.

The afternoon sun spilled through the streets, warm and bright, as Rumi and Zoey walked home from their jog, sneakers softly slapping the pavement. Zoey kept her arm looped through Rumi’s, curiosity flickering in her eyes.

“So… about that boxing session,” Zoey said, nudging her gently. “You were hitting like… like the world was ending. What the hell was that about?”

Rumi exhaled slowly, her gaze fixed on the sidewalk ahead. “…It’s… Juno,” she admitted quietly. “I think… if it’s her—the same girl I saw with Mira the other night walking home—then she might be hurting Mira, the same way Juno did to me in high school.”

Zoey tightened her hold slightly, silent for a beat, letting her words sink in. “Shit… Rumi…” she murmured softly. “You think she’s… doing that to Mira?”

“I don’t know for sure,” Rumi said, shaking her head. “But I can’t stop thinking about it. It… it makes my blood boil just imagining it. That’s why I hit harder. I needed to… I don’t know, get it out somehow before it drove me insane.”

Zoey squeezed her hand. “I get it. And you’re strong, Ru. But you don’t have to fight it all alone.”

Rumi managed a small, tight-lipped smile. “Thanks… I know. But right now, I just… need to make sure Mira’s safe.”

By the time they reached their apartment, the sunlight had softened, casting long shadows across the floor. Zoey pulled Rumi inside. “Alright, post-workout fuel. I’ll make sure you don’t pass out before Mystery gets you looking like a badass wolf.”

Rumi chuckled as they moved into the kitchen, the tension easing slightly. Zoey quickly set about making a protein-packed stir-fry, tossing vegetables and eggs into a sizzling pan.

Rumi sat at the counter, watching. “You know… I still can’t believe I’m actually doing this haircut. A wolf cut.”

Zoey grinned, sliding a plate in front of her. “Better believe it. You’re gonna look fierce as hell. And I get front-row seats to all the chaos that comes after.”

They ate in companionable silence for a few minutes before Rumi finally said, “Zo… I’m still… distracted by what’s happening with Mira. I just… can’t shake the thought.”

Zoey nodded, softening. “Then after we eat, you let me drag you in the shower and wash off all that tension. Clear head, clear heart, and then… Mystery’s chair awaits.”

Rumi laughed softly. “Deal. You’ve got a plan for everything, don’t you?”

“You know me,” Zoey said with a wink. “Chief chaos manager, therapist, chef, and hype girl all in one.”

After a quick shower, hair damp and wrapped in a towel, Rumi followed Zoey out again, the afternoon sun still high and streets bright with light. The neon glow of the salon sign reflected faintly in the sun-tinged windows as they arrived.

Mystery, with his quiet presence and lavender hair catching the light, gave a small nod as they entered. “Evening,” he murmured softly.

Rumi cleared her throat nervously. “Uh… hi. Ready for the… wolf cut.”

Mystery tilted his head slightly, expression unreadable. “Take a seat,” he said, voice calm and even, “and we’ll take care of it.”

Zoey leaned close to Rumi, whispering with a smirk, “Don’t worry, babe. You’re in good hands… and when you’re done, the world won’t know what hit it.”

Rumi exhaled, letting herself relax slightly as she sat in the chair, the weight of the day pressing down—but for once, she could just focus on herself for a little while.

Rumi slid into the salon chair, her legs slightly bouncing from nervous energy. Mystery draped the black cape around her, his fingers brushing her shoulders as he adjusted it. “Relax,” he said softly, his voice calm, a stark contrast to the storm in Rumi’s mind.

Zoey perched nearby on a stool, leaning on the counter with her chin in her hand. “So, this is it, huh? The infamous wolf cut?” she teased, smirking. “You ready to unleash chaos on the world?”

Rumi gave a half-smile, her fingers fidgeting with the edge of the cape. “I… I think so. Just… hoping I don’t look ridiculous.”

“Ridiculous?” Zoey scoffed. “Rumi, you’re going to look like a queen of chaos, and don’t you forget it.”

Mystery picked up the scissors, running a comb through Rumi’s hair to section it carefully. “We’ll make sure it suits your face,” he said quietly. “This cut… It’s bold. But it’s you.”

Rumi nodded, swallowing the lump in her throat. “Bold… yeah, that’s… me. I guess.”

As Mystery snipped away, Rumi’s hands relaxed slightly in her lap, though her mind was still buzzing with worry for Mira. Zoey, noticing her distant gaze, leaned closer. “Hey… you’re thinking about her again, aren’t you?”

Rumi exhaled slowly. “Yeah… I can’t help it. I just… I hope she’s safe. If it’s Juno, then…” Her voice trailed off, shoulders tensing.

Zoey’s eyes softened, her tone firm. “Hey, right now, it’s just us. You can’t save everyone in the world while getting your hair cut. Let’s just focus on this. You, me, the haircut. That’s it.”

Rumi allowed herself a small laugh. “You make it sound easy.”

Zoey grinned, bumping her shoulder gently. “Easy, maybe not. Fun? Absolutely. And wait until you see yourself—you’re going to look amazing.”

Mystery continued his work, quietly sectioning and trimming, occasionally pausing to adjust the shape. “The layers will frame your face,” he said softly. “It’ll give you movement, strength… presence.”

Rumi shifted in the chair, feeling a strange combination of anticipation and vulnerability. “Presence… I like that. I think I need that.”

Zoey winked, leaning closer to whisper, “Oh, you’re gonna have presence, all right. People won’t know what hit them.”

A few minutes passed in a comfortable rhythm—Mystery focused, Zoey playful, and Rumi slowly allowing herself to relax. The scissors snipped in even, deliberate beats, the cape rustling softly.

Finally, Mystery stepped back, examining the cut from multiple angles. “Done,” he said simply, though his voice carried a quiet satisfaction.

Rumi blinked at the mirror. Her hair fell perfectly around her face, the wolf cut giving her a fierce, edgy look. The layers framed her eyes, accentuating the sharpness of her jawline, the softness of her lips. She touched a strand carefully, almost in disbelief.

Zoey practically squealed, bouncing off her stool. “Rumi! Oh my god—yes! This is it! Queen of chaos confirmed!”

Rumi laughed, a genuine sound, the tension easing from her shoulders. “Okay… wow. I… I actually like it.”

Mystery gave a small nod. “It suits you. Confident, bold… and unmistakably you.”

Zoey leaned down, giving Rumi a playful nudge. “You look unstoppable. Now go out there and remind the world who’s boss.”

Rumi ran her fingers through her new layers, feeling a strange mix of empowerment and relief. For a little while, the weight of worries—of Mira, of Juno—felt lighter. At least for now, she could just be herself.

As they left the salon, Zoey linked arms with her, the afternoon sun reflected off the streets, Rumi’s wolf cut catching the light. It was a small victory, a fierce reminder that she could take up space in the world—and face it head-on.

The streets of Seoul were bathed in the warm afternoon glow as Rumi and Zoey strolled toward the bar, their footsteps echoing softly on the pavement. The gentle sway of Rumi’s new wolf cut caught the sunlight, strands glinting in golden hues.

“Wait,” Zoey said suddenly, halting mid-step. Rumi glanced at her, eyebrow raised. “What now?”

Zoey’s grin was mischievous, her eyes sparkling. “Photo opportunity. Perfect lighting, perfect hair. I need this for… You know, lock screen priorities.”

Rumi blinked, slightly flustered, but couldn’t help laughing. “Seriously?”

“Absolutely,” Zoey replied, already pulling out her phone. She guided Rumi into a small patch of sunlight, angling her face just so. “Tilt a little… yes, that’s it. Perfect.”

Rumi relaxed, letting her hair fall naturally around her shoulders. The two of them shared a soft laugh as Zoey snapped a few quick photos, capturing the fierce yet effortless edge of her new look.

Then, before Rumi could say anything else, Zoey got on her tiptoes and leaned in, pressing a gentle, warm kiss to her lips. Soft. Slow. With no care in the world except the two of them in that moment.

Rumi melted into it, her arms instinctively wrapping around Zoey, letting the tension of the day slip away. When they finally pulled back, their foreheads rested together for a heartbeat, both smiling, breaths mingling in the quiet of the sunlit street.

“Lock screen ready?” Zoey teased, her grin widening.

“Definitely,” Rumi replied, chuckling. “Thanks for the… boost.”

Hand in hand, they continued their walk, the bar waiting ahead but the warmth of this small, perfect moment lingering between them.

Rumi and Zoey arrived at the bar with plenty of time to spare before opening. The familiar scent of polished wood and peanuts greeted them as they stepped inside—but before they could even get settled, Abby and Baby emerged from behind the bar, both stopping dead in their tracks.

Rumi froze, half-expecting a casual nod, but instead got full-on stunned expressions.

“Whoa…” Abby breathed, his eyes widening as he took in her new wolf cut. “Rumi… that… damn. That’s… hot.”

Baby, usually quiet and composed, actually let a small whistle slip past his lips, his teal hair catching the morning light through the windows. “New look, huh? Didn’t see that coming.”

Zoey grinned, elbowing Rumi lightly. “Told you it’d be worth the photo session.”

Rumi rolled her eyes but couldn’t hide her smirk. “Glad you like it.”

They all started moving through the motions of opening the bar. Abby carried boxes and supplies from the back while Baby checked the neon signs and straightened chairs. Rumi grabbed clean towels and glasses, handing things off where needed. Zoey darted between tasks, setting up the counter and making sure everything looked ready for the first customers.

The bar felt familiar and comforting as the four of them worked together, slipping into their usual rhythm.

The quiet hum of the bar was broken by the chime of the door swinging open. Rumi and Zoey looked up to see a familiar group of bikers strolling in, their leather jackets worn but well-kept, engines of their bikes rumbling faintly in memory as if still present outside.

“Reggie!” Rumi called, recognizing the older man immediately. His grey-streaked hair with hints of brown was unmistakable, and his wide grin softened his rugged look. “It’s been forever!”

Reggie’s face lit up. “Rumi! Zoey! Look at you two! Wow, it’s been a minute since we last rolled through here.”

Zoey stepped forward with a laugh. “Too long! Come on in—grab a seat, get comfortable. You guys want the usual?”

The bikers nodded, settling near the bar. Baby and Abby, standing a little off to the side, exchanged glances. “Rumi, should we explain the setup?” Abby asked quietly, noting that the bikers didn’t speak much Korean.

“Yeah,” Rumi said softly. “Just keep it simple.”

Abby stepped forward, gesturing politely. “These two—” he nodded at the bikers, “—we help run the bar with Rumi and Zoey. Just making sure everything is set before you get your drinks.”

Baby, in his usual quiet way, added, “Everything is ready. Nothing will be a problem.” His voice was deep but calm, his hands tucked in his pockets.

The bikers nodded, understanding enough to smile. Reggie clapped Abby lightly on the shoulder. “Appreciate it, kid. Solid crew you’ve got here.”

Zoey leaned on the bar, smirking at Rumi. “See? Even the toughest guys appreciate us running a smooth operation.”

Rumi chuckled, pulling out menus. “Alright, everyone—let’s make sure you get the first round on the house. It’s been too long since we last saw you.”

The bikers laughed, settling in, the familiar camaraderie filling the bar. Even with the language barrier, the warmth and easy energy made the evening feel like it had folded seamlessly back into place.

A few hours in, the bar was alive with energy—glasses clinking, laughter bouncing off the walls, the low hum of music mixing with conversation. The bikers were at one table, laughing raucously at a story Reggie was telling, while another group toasted over a small victory of some kind, cheering with loud, animated voices.

Abby was stationed near the entrance as usual, his eyes scanning the room, watching for anyone who might stir up trouble. Baby hovered near the bar, quietly adjusting chairs and topping off peanut baskets, his presence a steadying one amid the chaos.

Rumi and Zoey weaved between the crowd, taking orders, pouring drinks, and occasionally sharing a quick laugh with familiar faces. It was the kind of night that reminded them why they loved running the bar—the mix of regulars, new faces, and the comfortable rhythm of teamwork.

But amid the laughter and energy, Rumi felt a pull in her chest. Something—or rather someone—was missing. Her eyes swept across the room, resting on each familiar face, each table of patrons, but Mira wasn’t there.

Zoey, noticing Rumi’s slight pause, leaned in. “Thinking what I’m thinking?” she asked softly, nodding toward the empty stool near the bar.

Rumi shook her head slowly, lips pressed together. “Yeah… she’s not here tonight. Not even a glimpse.” Her gaze flicked to Baby and Abby briefly, as if silentntly asking if they had noticed anything unusual, but both were focused on their usual duties.

The thought gnawed at her quietly. Mira had been coming to the bar steadily, finding some sense of safety there, and now her absence felt like a small, sharp void in the otherwise bustling room. Rumi sighed, trying to shake it off, but the worry lingered in the back of her mind.

“Guess she needed the night to herself,” Zoey said, though her tone lacked full conviction, mirroring Rumi’s unease.

Rumi nodded, but deep down, she knew she’d be checking her phone—or maybe even pacing later—to make sure Mira was okay. Because while the bar was alive and full tonight, it just didn’t feel complete without her.

Rumi moved behind the bar, grabbing a fresh glass as she tried to shake off the little knot of worry forming in her chest. Mira hadn’t said a word since that night, and while Rumi tried to tell herself it was probably for the best—maybe Mira needed time to recover after the incidents with the guys she’d thrown out—the silence gnawed at her.

She stole a glance at Zoey, who was laughing with a table of patrons, hair still catching the neon lights just right, and tried to focus on the rhythm of the bar. But the question kept pressing: why hasn’t she texted?

Rumi tapped her finger against the counter, heart picking up a little. Mira was always careful, always reliable when it came to letting someone know she was okay. Even if she didn’t want to speak about what had happened, a simple text—“I’m fine”—would have eased this tightening in Rumi’s chest.

Abby noticed the faraway look on her face and tilted his head slightly. “You good?” he asked, voice low enough that it didn’t carry over the crowd.

“Yeah,” Rumi murmured, forcing a smile, though her fingers lingered on the glass a second too long. “Just… busy night.”

Abby gave a short nod, clearly unconvinced, and returned to his post. Rumi exhaled quietly, brushing her hands over the counter to refocus. She tried to immerse herself in the work, the customers, the noise—but in the back of her mind, a quiet worry lingered.

She told herself she’d wait. Mira would come back when she was ready. She just hoped it wouldn’t be too long.

As the night wore on, the bar pulsed with laughter, clinking glasses, and the low hum of conversation, but Rumi couldn’t fully focus. Every time the door chimed, her eyes darted toward it, half-expecting Mira to appear.

After a lull in customers, Rumi slipped her phone out of her pocket. A quick text:

Hey… hope you’re okay. No rush to reply, just want to make sure you’re safe.

Minutes passed. Nothing. She stared at the blank screen longer than she wanted to admit, a tightness curling in her stomach.

She tried again after another hour:

Just checking in. I miss seeing you at the bar tonight.

Still silence.

Zoey noticed her repeated glances at the phone and leaned closer. “Everything okay?” she asked softly, voice low enough that the surrounding chatter didn’t carry.

Rumi forced a smile. “Yeah… just… wondering why Mira’s not here tonight.” Her fingers tightened around her phone. “She’s usually reliable.”

Zoey’s eyes softened, reading the worry in her expression. “She’ll come back when she’s ready. Maybe she just needs some time.”

Rumi nodded, but it didn’t ease the pit in her stomach. She returned to the counter, polishing glasses a little too hard, tapping a rhythm of impatience. Every customer, every laugh, every movement in the bar drew her eyes to the door.

The hours crept by, and still no text. She tried to bury the anxiety under work, under chatter with Abby and Baby, but every quiet moment was a reminder of Mira’s absence. She imagined the worst—what if something had happened to her? Every scenario was worse than the last.

By the time the bar finally quieted near closing, Rumi’s shoulders were tight, her hands shaking slightly as she wiped down the counter. She sent one last text before locking up:

Please just let me know you’re okay. That’s all I need.

Then she slipped the phone back into her pocket, refusing to check it again until morning. All she could do was wait—and hope.

By the time last call rolled around, the bar had thinned out to only a handful of stragglers finishing their drinks. The bikers had left in a wave of laughter and handshakes, promising they wouldn’t wait another year to drop by. Baby collected the last empty baskets, Zoey stacked stools, and Abby made one final sweep through the room before giving Rumi a nod that all was clear.

Rumi double-checked the lock on the door after ushering the last customer out, then leaned against it for a moment, her phone already in her hand. No reply. She pressed her lips together, frustration and worry curling tight in her chest.

Zoey came over, pressing a hand to her back. “She’ll be fine,” she murmured. “Let’s just go home.”

Rumi gave a short nod, slipping the phone back into her pocket. They cleaned up the last of the bar in silence, turned off the lights, and finally headed out together.

The next morning, sunlight spilled across the bed in golden streaks. Rumi stirred first, blinking against the glow, her arm wrapped tightly around Zoey who slept soundly on her shoulder. She brushed a kiss against Zoey’s forehead, letting her sleep a little longer before carefully slipping out of bed.

Her phone sat on the nightstand. She picked it up instantly, heart thudding—still nothing. No text.

She stood there for a moment, chewing her lip, trying not to let the silence eat away at her. With a sigh, she set the phone down and padded into the kitchen to start coffee.

A few minutes later, Zoey stumbled in, hair wild, rubbing her eyes. “You’re up early,” she mumbled, leaning against the counter.

“Couldn’t sleep,” Rumi admitted softly, sliding her a mug. “Still no word from Mira.”

Zoey frowned, taking a sip of coffee. “We’ll figure it out. But first,” she nudged Rumi’s side, “let’s eat and do our run. Clear your head a little.”

Rumi hesitated, but nodded. Their routine always helped—even if today, her mind wasn’t likely to be anywhere but next door.

The gym was already humming with the low sounds of weights clanking, machines whirring, and music pulsing through the speakers. After warming up with Zoey, Rumi’s attention drifted away, her gaze locked on the row of heavy bags. Without a word, she grabbed her wraps, winding them tightly around her hands, the fabric biting into her skin like she needed the pressure to keep herself grounded.

As soon as the last knot was tied, she was in motion. Fists cracked against the bag—quick, sharp, relentless. Every punch hit harder than the last.

In her mind, Juno’s smirk from high school surfaced, sharp and cruel. She hit harder. Then the image of that blonde-haired girl holding Mira like she was hers alone—her grip on Mira’s arm too tight, too possessive. Rumi’s jaw clenched as her strikes grew faster, angrier.

But then Mira’s face rose in her mind. Hollowed eyes. Too-thin frame. The way her shoulders hunched like she wanted to fold in on herself. The notebook sketches Zoey had seen. The silence in her texts. Rumi’s chest tightened as if her ribs couldn’t contain the ache.

She’s hurting. I know she is. And I can’t do a damn thing.

The frustration boiled over, her body moving before she even thought. She pivoted hard, leaping into a spinning kick that landed flush against the bag. The entire chain rattled violently, and the heavy bag swung so wide it nearly toppled over its stand.

The impact echoed in the gym. A couple of heads turned. Zoey froze mid-stretch, her eyes wide. Abby, who’d been spotting someone across the room, straightened up instantly, watching Rumi with a knowing look.

Rumi stood there breathing heavily, sweat already dripping down her temples, knuckles throbbing from the force of her strikes. She pressed her forehead against the swinging bag for a moment, trying to collect herself, but her pulse kept hammering in her ears.

Rumi’s forehead rested against the swaying bag, her breaths rough and uneven. Sweat trickled down her cheek, but she didn’t wipe it away. She just wanted the rush in her chest to stop.

A soft hand pressed against her back.

“Rumi…” Zoey’s voice was quiet, steady, but laced with worry. She stepped closer, her palm lingering between Rumi’s shoulder blades as if she could ground her. “I know who you’re seeing when you hit the bag. I know why. And I wish—” her words caught, her voice cracking just slightly, “I wish I could make it stop for you. But I can’t.”

Rumi squeezed her eyes shut, jaw trembling. She didn’t answer.

Before Zoey could say anything else, a heavier presence came up beside them. Abby. His towering frame and calm-but-unyielding stare landed right on Rumi.

“Alright,” he said firmly, folding his arms across his chest. “That wasn’t just a workout. You don’t almost kick a damn stand over unless something’s eating at you.” His gaze flicked to Zoey briefly before returning to Rumi. “I’m not blind, Rumi. Something’s up. Talk.”

Rumi swallowed hard, her hands flexing against the wraps, knuckles aching. “It’s nothing, Abby—”

“Bullshit.” Abby’s voice cut through her excuse, sharp but not cruel. “I’ve known you long enough to spot a lie. You’re carrying something, and from the way you’re tearing into that bag, it’s eating you alive. You don’t tell me now, I’ll drag it out of you later. Your choice.”

Rumi’s chest tightened as Zoey’s hand slipped down to squeeze her wrist gently, silently urging her to say something. She wanted to. The truth pressed at her lips. But if Abby knew, he’d act—immediately. That’s who he was. And she wasn’t ready for that storm yet.

Her eyes burned as she met Abby’s stare, then Zoey’s softer one. “Not yet,” she whispered hoarsely. “Please. Just… not yet.”

Abby exhaled slowly, rubbing a hand over his jaw. He looked frustrated, but he didn’t push further. “Fine. But don’t think I’m letting it slide forever. You don’t carry this alone, Rumi. You hear me?”

Rumi nodded, unable to say more. Zoey stayed pressed to her side, holding her hand tight.

The air between them was heavy after Abby’s words, but none of them spoke on it again. Instead, Rumi moved toward the benches, Zoey following close behind. Abby stayed near, watchful as always.

“Spot me,” Rumi said, lying back under the bar. Her voice was steadier now, though her eyes betrayed the storm beneath.

Zoey slid into place behind her, hands ready. “I’ve got you.”

Rumi pushed through her reps, each lift precise, controlled, almost like she was forcing herself into discipline. Abby knelt to the side, counting under his breath, nodding when she pressed through the burn.

They rotated out—Zoey with curls, Rumi loading plates for deadlifts, Abby standing like a wall of calm authority.

“Come on, Zo,” Rumi said, forcing a grin when Zoey’s arms started shaking halfway through her set. “You wanted to keep up with me, didn’t you?”

Zoey shot her a look, teeth gritted, sweat beading on her forehead. “Shut up and hand me the water when I’m done.”

Abby chuckled low under his breath but didn’t break his watch. When Rumi stepped to the barbell for deadlifts, he was right there, crouched down to correct her stance.

“Back straight. Don’t overextend. Use the legs, not the rage,” he muttered.

Rumi’s lips twitched, but she adjusted, gripping the bar. The weight came up smooth, her muscles straining, her focus sharp. She set it down with a heavy clang, breathing hard.

Zoey leaned against the rack, arms crossed, her eyes never leaving Rumi. “You know, if you weren’t scary before, watching you like that might do it.”

“Scary is useful sometimes,” Rumi said, wiping her forehead with the back of her arm.

Abby gave a grunt of approval. “Just don’t forget balance. Power’s no good if it breaks you.”

They kept at it, cycling through sets, sweat slicking their skin, the rhythm of reps and weights filling the silence where words wouldn’t come. For a while, the gym became an outlet—less about anger, more about control.

After the last round of lifts, Abby clapped his hands together. “Alright, enough. Stretch it out, cool down before one of you pulls something.”

They settled onto the mats, Rumi lowering herself into a deep stretch, Zoey groaning as she reached for her toes. Abby moved like it was second nature—fluid, practiced, calm.

“Don’t act like you’re dying, Zo,” he teased, watching her flop over dramatically.

“I am dying,” Zoey groaned into her knees. “This is cruelty disguised as health.”

Rumi finally let out a soft laugh, her chest rising and falling a little easier now. Abby caught it, the tension draining out of her shoulders, and smirked.

“See? Already less scary.”

Rumi narrowed her eyes. “Don’t push it.”

“Who, me?” Abby grabbed his water bottle, uncapped it, and with zero warning flicked a splash of cold water straight at her face.

Rumi jerked back, a sharp gasp leaving her lips as droplets clung to her hair and cheek. “What the—!?”

Zoey burst into laughter, rolling onto her side. “Oh, you’re dead now, Abs.”

Rumi snatched her own bottle, twisting the cap off with deliberate slowness. Abby raised a brow, smug as ever—until she let loose, sending a spray of water right across his chest.

He blinked, looked down at his soaked shirt, then up at her. “...Really?”

Rumi smirked, sitting back on her heels. “Payback’s fair.”

Zoey, still giggling, held her hands up. “Don’t drag me into this—I didn’t see anything.”

That was all it took for Rumi and Abby to share a mischievous look. Without a word, they turned their bottles toward her.

Zoey’s eyes widened. “Wait. Wait! Don’t you da—”

A double spray hit her from both sides. Cold water splattered across her shirt and face, making her squeal so loudly it echoed through the gym. She scrambled back, shaking her arms like a startled cat.

“OH MY GOD, cold! You jerks!”

Rumi and Abby burst into laughter, clutching their sides as Zoey pouted through dripping bangs.

“See, now you’re officially part of the cool down,” Abby teased.

Zoey glared halfheartedly, still shivering but unable to stop her smile from breaking through. “You two are the worst—and I’m so getting revenge later.”

For the first time that morning, all three of them were laughing together, the heaviness of before melting away.

The three of them left the gym still damp from both sweat and their impromptu “water war.” Zoey wrung out the bottom of her shirt dramatically.

“I swear, the first person who makes an ‘I look like I peed myself’ joke is sleeping on the couch,” she warned.

Abby smirked. “You said it, not me.”

Rumi chuckled, bumping her shoulder against Zoey’s. “Don’t worry. You’re way too short for anyone to notice.”

Zoey gasped. “Excuse you? I’m travel-sized perfection.”

“More like pocket-sized trouble,” Abby added, and both he and Rumi laughed as Zoey threw her hands up in mock offense.

Still laughing, Rumi glanced up at him. “Hey, you want lunch before heading home? We’ve got leftovers from last night.”

“Only if Zoey promises not to throw it at me,” Abby said.

Zoey squinted at him, then grinned. “No promises.”

They bantered the rest of the way, the weight of the morning’s tension still there—but lighter now, tucked under warmth and friendship as they headed into the apartment building.

Meanwhile in Mira's apartment that morning.

When her eyes opened, the ceiling above her wasn’t the pale tiles of the bathroom—it was her bedroom ceiling. The familiar cracks in the paint, the faint glow from the curtains letting in morning light.

Her breath caught in her throat. She was in bed.

But… how?

Last night she remembered the cold tile, the shards of glass, the sting in her side as she’d finally let sleep drag her under. She hadn’t moved—she couldn’t have moved.

Which left only one explanation.

Juno.

The thought made her chest tighten. Had Juno carried her here? She couldn’t picture it—those arms that hurt her so easily, lifting her gently. The thought didn’t make sense, but it left a crawling unease over her skin anyway. If she had… why?

Her gaze flicked toward the door. The apartment was quiet. Too quiet. Juno wasn’t here.

Relief rushed through her all at once, so sharp it made her dizzy. She let her head fall back against the pillow, the blanket pulled up to her chin.

She didn’t want to get up. She didn’t want to move. Not yet. The bed felt safer, like the only place she had left to hide—even if Juno had been the one to put her here.

Her body ached, her side burned with the reminder of last night, but she stayed still, staring at the ceiling. Wishing she could stay buried under the covers forever, and disappear into the silence.

She lay there for a long while, letting the softness of the mattress cradle her aching body. It felt almost wrong—too gentle after everything. Each breath made the tightness in her chest loosen just slightly, just enough for her to almost pretend she was safe.

Then, muffled through the thin walls, she heard it. Commotion outside.

Laughter.

Her heart clenched, because she knew those voices instantly. Rumi’s low, warm tone. Zoey’s brighter, lilting laugh. And a man’s voice—one she didn’t recognize. Maybe it was the other guy she’d seen at the bar before, the buff one with the neon-pink hair.

Her throat tightened. For a moment, her lips curved into a small, fragile smile. She wanted nothing more than to go to them, to step out of this room and into their orbit. To let the words spill out, to let them see her, really see her—the bruises, the cuts, the truth of what Juno had done.

Her body twitched with the urge to move, to throw back the blankets and run.

But then last night surged back like a storm. The crash of glass, Juno’s hand at her throat, the sting of being thrown like she was nothing. The cold fury in her eyes.

The smile died.

Mira curled in on herself, hugging the blanket tighter around her frame. She couldn’t. She couldn’t risk it. Not when Juno could so easily find her, and punish her for stepping out of line.

So she stayed where she was, silent in the shadows of her room, listening to the laughter outside as though it belonged to another world.

The voices drifted farther away, fading into the walls of the apartment. She didn’t move. She stayed wrapped in the blanket, the warmth of the bed pressing against her sore body. Slowly, the tension in her muscles eased, her eyelids grew heavy, and she let sleep take her again, a quiet, unbroken sleep that gave her a brief respite from the memories of last night.

The three of them reached Rumi and Zoey’s apartment, still laughing lightly from their banter on the walk home. Abby was joking about Zoey’s squeal from earlier, while Zoey tried to defend herself, cheeks pink with embarrassment.

But Rumi paused in the hallway. She stood frozen in front of Mira’s door, her chest tightening. Something about the silence on the other side made her uneasy, though she didn’t know why.

“Rumi?” Zoey’s voice softened as she noticed. “Hey… you okay?”

Rumi blinked, snapping herself out of it. She forced a small nod. “Yeah… just thinking.”

Zoey gave her a searching look but didn’t press further. Abby stepped past them and pulled open their apartment door.

Rumi hesitated one last second, her hand brushing the frame of Mira’s door before she followed the others inside. She closed the door behind her, the faint click echoing louder in her mind than it should have.

Abby plopped onto the couch, stretching like he owned the place, while Zoey moved toward the kitchen. Rumi lingered near the entryway, the unease gnawing at her even as she tried to focus on the simple comfort of being home with Zoey, and Abby being over as well.

Zoey clattered around in the kitchen, pulling out pans and ingredients with her usual efficiency. “Alright, protein bowls again,” she announced, glancing back at Rumi and Abby with a playful smirk. “Unless either of you want to cook?”

Abby raised both hands immediately, leaning back into the couch cushions. “Nope. I’d probably burn water. You don’t want me anywhere near a stove.”

Zoey rolled her eyes, amused. “That’s what I thought.”

Rumi sat at the counter, resting her chin in her palm, distracted. She watched Zoey move around the kitchen, but her thoughts kept slipping back to the door across the hall. The silence behind it. The gut feeling she couldn’t shake.

Abby tilted his head at her, catching the distant look on her face. “You sure you’re okay, Ru? You’ve been spacing out a lot today.”

She straightened, trying to shake it off. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just tired, I guess.”

Zoey looked up from chopping vegetables, narrowing her eyes slightly at Rumi, but she didn’t press either. She slid the chopped chicken into the pan, the sizzle filling the apartment. “Well, food will help with that. And coffee.”

Rumi managed a faint smile, though it didn’t quite reach her eyes. She moved over to help, grabbing bowls and utensils from the cabinet. Zoey’s shoulder brushed against hers as they worked side by side, and the familiar warmth grounded her for a moment.

Abby stretched again on the couch, watching them with a lazy grin. “Man, you two are like a married couple already. I feel like the third wheel here.”

Zoey laughed softly, bumping her hip into Rumi’s. “You always say that when you’re mooching lunch off us.”

“Hey, if you feed me, you’re enabling me,” Abby shot back with a chuckle.

Despite herself, Rumi let out a small laugh. The heaviness in her chest lightened, if only a little.

By the time they sat down to eat, the bowls steaming in front of them, Rumi’s mind was still tugged toward Mira’s apartment. But for now, with Zoey’s hand brushing hers under the table and Abby cracking jokes between bites, she forced herself to stay present, even if the unease never fully left.

Chapter Text

After her shower, Rumi finished drying her hair while Zoey styled hers beside her. Once they were both dressed, Rumi moved to the vanity to do her makeup. She was blending her eyeliner when Zoey’s voice carried from the living room.

“Hey, Rumi? Your phone buzzed!”

Rumi froze mid-swipe, a tiny pang of worry hitting her chest. “Can you check it?” she called back, voice careful.

A beat later, Zoey replied, “It’s from Mira.”

Rumi’s breath hitched as she turned slightly toward the doorway. “What’d she say?”

Zoey read it out loud, “She says she’s okay—just came down with a really bad cold. She’s gonna stay home for a bit until she feels better. She says not to worry and not to bring her anything.”

Rumi set her brush down, staring at her reflection. Something about that didn’t sit right. Mira never turned down help. Not from her. Not from Zoey. Her heart twisted, but she forced a small exhale and nodded to herself.

“…Alright,” she murmured. “If she says she’s okay, we’ll give her a little time.”

Still, the unease didn’t leave her chest.

Once they met up with Abby on the walk to the bar, Zoey filled him in. “It’s Friday night—there’s a football game in town,” she warned, grinning. “Crowd’s gonna be wild tonight. Be ready.”

Abby groaned with a laugh. “Perfect. Just what I needed—a bunch of half-drunk fans testing my patience.”

Rumi chuckled faintly, but her thoughts still lingered elsewhere—on Mira’s text and the feeling that something wasn’t adding up.

They made it to the bar early, the quiet hum of the city still lingering before the evening rush. Inside, Rumi flicked on the lights and sighed as the room came alive—neon glow, polished wood, rows of glasses waiting. Zoey set her bag behind the counter and started prepping the mixers, while Abby wiped down tables near the back.

None of them were exactly looking forward to the night ahead. Football game nights always brought rowdy crowds and heavy pours—but maybe, Rumi thought, a busy night was what she needed. Something to drown out the gnawing worry sitting in her chest.

Just as she started restocking the bar, her phone buzzed.

Baby.

She answered, pressing the phone between her ear and shoulder while grabbing a stack of napkins.
“Yo, what’s up?”

“Uh, yeah… I’m still at the sign shop,” Baby said, his voice a little sheepish. “The guy’s taking forever fixing the wiring for the neon sign. Said he’ll need another hour or so.”

Rumi straightened. “Wait—Baby, you remember there’s a game tonight, right? We need all hands on deck.”

There was a pause on the other end. “…Oh. Crap. That’s tonight?”

Zoey snorted quietly from across the bar, shaking her head.

“Yes, tonight,” Rumi said, rubbing her temple. “Can you just leave the sign for tomorrow? We’ll survive one more day without it. I need you here before the doors open.”

“Yeah, yeah, alright,” he sighed. “I’ll tell the guy I’ll come back in the morning. Be there soon.”

“Thanks,” Rumi said, hanging up with a small exhale.

Zoey leaned over the counter. “Guess Baby’s still on ‘island time.’”

“Always,” Rumi muttered with a faint smile. Then she grabbed a tray of glasses and set them down with a soft clink. “Let’s just get ready. Once the game ends, we’ll be slammed.”

Abby chuckled. “Bring it on. I could use a good workout.”

Rumi gave a half-smile—but in the back of her mind, the thought returned. Mira’s text didn’t sound right.

Maybe the chaos tonight would be enough to keep her from thinking about it.

By the time the first wave of customers filtered through the doors, the bar was already humming. The game was still in its final quarter, but fans who couldn’t stand the tension had decided to drink their nerves away early.

Rumi and Zoey were already in motion—Rumi mixing cocktails at lightning speed, Zoey sliding beers down the bar with practiced ease. Abby kept a steady eye near the entrance, his arms crossed, scanning the growing crowd.

The noise built fast—cheers, laughter, the occasional curse as someone checked the score on their phone. The familiar chaos of game nights was in full swing.

Rumi glanced at the clock—Baby was still nowhere in sight.

“Still not here?” Zoey called over the noise as she grabbed another tray of glasses.

Rumi shook her head. “He’s probably stuck in traffic. He’ll get here—eventually.”

Another group came in wearing jerseys, loud and half-tipsy already. Rumi plastered on a smile and called out their orders, though her mind kept drifting. She hated being short-staffed on nights like this, but more than that, she hated that gnawing sense of wrongness Mira’s text left behind.

She didn’t have time to dwell. Someone waved for refills, another called for shots, and Abby had to step in to separate two guys arguing over whose team was better.

The door finally swung open with a rush of cold air, and Baby stumbled in, out of breath, jacket half-zipped.

“Yo, I’m here!” he shouted over the din. “Traffic was hell! Couldn’t even park close.”

Rumi gave him a half-glare, half-relieved smile. “You’re late.”

“I know, I know,” he said, jogging behind the bar to help Zoey with orders. “Won’t happen again.”

“Better not,” she muttered, sliding a finished drink across the counter.

Within minutes, the four of them fell into rhythm—Rumi mixing, Zoey serving, Baby handling the floor, Abby keeping order. The bar was loud, crowded, and messy… but it kept Rumi’s mind busy.

For now, that was enough.

The bar’s roar hit a new peak as the game neared its end, voices clashing between victory and defeat. Rumi was mid-pour when the door swung open again—this time, a familiar group stepped through the noise.

Reggie led the pack, his presence commanding even in the chaos. His leather jacket looked more worn than usual, and his face was set in a gruff expression, like the weight of the week hadn’t quite shaken off. Behind him came Eli, Jinwoo, Haejin, Minseok, and Daeno—each nodding to Rumi and Zoey in greeting as they took their usual seats near the middle of the bar.

Rumi’s lips tugged into a faint smile despite her exhaustion. “Well, look what the wind dragged in.”

Reggie gave a low chuckle, his voice gravelly. “Couldn’t stay away from your drinks too long, kid.”

She poured his usual whiskey without him needing to ask. “You look like you’ve had one hell of a week,” she said, sliding the glass his way.

He grunted, picking up the drink and taking a long sip before answering. “Been worse. Roads’ve been rough. People rougher.”

Eli leaned forward with a smirk, his Korean accented with an easy drawl. “You’re just mad because we beat you in cards last night, old man.”

That earned a rumble from Reggie, half amusement, half warning, and a round of chuckles from the others.

Rumi poured the rest of their drinks—beer for Eli, soju for Jinwoo, a tequila shot for Haejin, and mixed drinks for the rest—falling into the comfortable rhythm of their banter.

For a moment, it felt almost like a normal night.

But even as she smiled, her eyes flicked to the door once, then to her phone. Still no new messages.

The bar had mellowed into a low, buzzing hum—music soft, conversations scattered. The clink of glasses and the shuffle of cards filled the quiet spaces.

Reggie and his crew had claimed a table off to the side, a deck spread between them. Zoey sat with them now, laughing loud and clear as she slammed her cards down, winning another round to the bikers’ collective groans. Rumi couldn’t help but grin, shaking her head as she wiped down the counter, her gaze lingering on Zoey’s bright smile.

For a fleeting moment, things felt easy. Almost normal.

Then the bell above the door chimed.

Rumi turned automatically—habit—but the moment her eyes landed on the tall blonde stepping through, her chest constricted.

The woman’s stride was confident, deliberate, like she owned the ground she walked on. A black mask covered half her face, but even before she removed it, something in the way she carried herself struck a chord deep in Rumi’s gut.

When the mask came down, the world tilted.

The chatter faded. Her breath caught.
That face.
That jawline.
Those cold, sharp eyes that she’d tried so hard to forget.

Juno.

Rumi’s heart slammed against her ribs. Her fingers tightened around the damp cloth in her hand. No—she hadn’t seen that face since high school, hadn’t heard that voice in years. But there she was. Older, sharper, but unmistakable.

And all at once, Mira’s silence, the flinch when Zoey touched her hair, the bruises hidden beneath her sleeves—they all crashed together in Rumi’s mind like shattered glass.

Her stomach dropped.

She barely registered Zoey calling her name from across the room, laughter still lingering in her tone—until she followed Rumi’s gaze and froze too.

Rumi swallowed hard, forcing her pulse to steady. Her fingers curled against the counter before she straightened, voice as calm as she could manage.

“What can I get you?”

It came out smoother than she expected. Too smooth. Her throat burned with tension, but on the surface she looked composed—bartender voice, polite and professional.

The blonde woman didn’t answer right away, eyes flicking briefly around the bar before landing squarely on Rumi. For a heartbeat, Rumi swore the gaze lingered too long. Searching.

Then:
“Two soju bombs.”

Rumi froze for just a fraction of a second. It wasn’t the order—it was the voice. That same low, sharp tone she remembered, the one that used to curl around her name like a threat.

Her stomach twisted.

She forced herself to nod, stepping back toward the bottles. “Coming right up.”

Every motion felt mechanical—pouring the beer, lining the shot glasses, setting it up just right. But her mind raced, screaming. If this really was Juno, then she was fueling the fire. Giving her more to drink, more to lash out with.

She set the glasses down carefully, the faintest tremor in her hands betraying her.

“Here you go,” she said quietly.

The woman gave a curt nod, sliding a few bills across the counter without breaking eye contact.

And though Rumi prayed she wouldn’t notice, she saw the faint flicker of recognition in Juno’s eyes—her gaze dropping to the mismatched colors staring back at her.

One blue. One brown.

Rumi felt her heart stop.

She quickly looked away, wiping at the counter again like nothing was wrong, silently begging Zoey to stay where she was and not draw attention.

Inside, though, guilt clawed at her chest. She just handed Juno a drink. And if her gut was right… Mira was at home waiting for the storm.

Rumi’s pulse spiked, her chest tightening. The nickname—princess—slithered around her like a ghost from the past, dredging up memories she’d buried deep. Her hands, still poised over the counter, felt suddenly heavy, almost useless.

Zoey’s tension was like a physical force, her posture rigid, eyes flicking between Rumi and the woman at the bar. Reggie, seated nearby, caught the shift immediately. His brows furrowed, and he leaned slightly forward, sensing something off without needing to know the details.

Rumi’s gaze darted between Zoey, Reggie, and Juno, trying to stay composed. She gave Reggie a subtle nod when their eyes met, a silent assurance that she was okay, even if everything inside her screamed otherwise.

Then Juno’s voice cut through again, cold and precise, directed at her.

“That’s a nice haircut you got there, princess.”

Rumi froze completely. Princess. That single word twisted her stomach. Memories flashed—the control, the fear, the sharp edge of authority Juno always wielded.

“Didn't recognize you at first until I saw those eyes. It’s been a while, huh?”

Rumi couldn’t respond. The words hung in the air like ice, biting at her ears, chilling her from the inside out. Her voice felt trapped somewhere behind her ribs, refusing to surface.

Every instinct screamed to retreat, to hide, but she had to stay. She had to look normal, while inside, unease coiled around her like a tightening rope.

Juno’s eyes lingered on her, sharp and calculating, and Rumi knew—this wasn’t just a casual greeting. This was a test. And she wasn’t sure she knew the rules anymore.

Zoey’s eyes narrowed, immediately noticing the tension coiled in Rumi’s shoulders and the rigid line of her posture. Without a word, she rose from the table, her movements deliberate, and made her way to the bar. Every step was steady, calm, but alert, a silent shield she didn’t even realize she was raising.

Juno’s gaze never wavered from Rumi, sharp and assessing, as she lifted the soju mix to her lips. Each sip was slow, deliberate, almost ritualistic, letting the tension stretch out between them. Rumi’s stomach churned with every measured sip, the sound of liquid sliding against glass echoing like a countdown.

Finally, Rumi forced the words past the tightness in her throat, her voice steady, casual, but her heart raced. “I… don’t think I remember you. Sorry, maybe we met a long time ago?”

Juno didn’t break her stare. She let out a low chuckle, leaning slightly closer, her eyes never leaving Rumi’s. “Oh, you do remember me, princess,” she said, her tone light but edged with something dangerous. “Don’t play dumb. Those eyes? They don’t forget.”

Rumi’s chest tightened. She kept her tone light, almost indifferent, hiding the spike of fear crawling up her spine. Zoey stepped closer, just enough to be beside her, her presence a small anchor, but even she could feel the cold weight of Juno’s attention.

The bar’s background noise seemed to fade, the laughter, the chatter, even Reggie and the bikers, all fading into white noise, leaving only Juno’s sharp eyes fixed on Rumi.

Juno’s eyes flicked down to Rumi’s forearms, lingering just a little too long on the ink. A slow, knowing smirk curved across her lips.

“Nice tattoos,” she said, her voice mocking, low but cutting. “Cover up well enough, I guess. But I know what’s under there. You think you can hide what you did to yourself from me, princess?”

Rumi’s stomach clenched, but she didn’t move her arms from the bar. Her fingers curled slightly, nails digging into her palms just to keep them steady.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Rumi said softly, her tone flat but even. “They’re just tattoos.”

Juno tilted her head, sipping from her glass again, deliberately slow. “Oh, come on. We both know you didn’t do that because you wanted to. You did that because you felt worthless. Because I made you see what you really were.” Her eyes glittered coldly. “And now you’re standing here, pretending like you’re new. Cute.”

Zoey’s hand twitched at her side, her nails pressing into her palm. She took a small step closer, eyes locked on Juno. “Back off,” she said quietly but firmly.

Juno’s smirk widened, but she didn’t even glance at Zoey. “Ah, and this must be your little shadow. You always did like strays.”

Rumi’s heart hammered in her chest, but she forced her tone steady. “Stop it. Order your drinks, finish them, and leave.”

Reggie’s voice cut through the tension from the table where he sat. “Is there a problem here?” His tone wasn’t loud, but it carried weight.

Juno’s eyes flicked briefly in his direction, then back to Rumi, but she didn’t respond to him directly.

Rumi, glancing past Juno for the briefest second, noticed Eli on the other side of the bar now, leaning casually but alert, eyes on Juno. She hadn’t even seen him move. He definitely lived up to that “Phantom” nickname.

Juno leaned in a fraction closer, her voice dropping to a whisper meant for only Rumi. “You can play bartender, princess. Pretend all you want. But you and I both know—you’re still mine.”

Zoey’s jaw tightened, but she stayed put, eyes flicking between Rumi and Juno, waiting for the right moment to step in.

Rumi’s voice, when it came, was low but sharp. “I was never yours.”

That finally made Juno’s smirk falter for a heartbeat.

Rumi’s fingers slowly uncurled from the bar, palms flat now, knuckles white from holding herself back. Her voice came out steady but sharper this time.
“You can’t hurt me anymore, Juno. And I was never yours. I haven’t been for years.”

Juno scoffed, tilting her head like she’d just heard a joke. “Oh, princess… you have no idea how much I’ve missed playing with my favorite toy.”

Zoey stiffened beside her, jaw clenching. She started to open her mouth, but Rumi held up her hand without even looking at her. That small gesture made Juno falter for the first time, her smirk wavering just a hair.

Rumi’s voice grew stronger, colder. “Enough.”

Something in her cracked open. The years of fear, shame, and pain boiled up, her words cutting sharper than any blade.
“You don’t get to call me that. You don’t get to stand here and pretend like you didn’t break me. You don’t get to talk about what you miss. I’m still clawing my way out of what you did to me. What you made me do to myself.”

Juno’s smirk returned, but it was thinner now. “You can’t talk to me like that.”

“Oh, I can.” Rumi’s voice turned low, dangerous. “And I will.”

She pushed herself away from the bar, walking around it slow and deliberate, each step a quiet challenge. The room had gone still, even the bikers silent now. Eli shifted slightly on the far side, eyes sharp, waiting.

“This is my bar,” Rumi said, her voice carrying now. “These are my people. This is my life. Not yours.”

Juno straightened, as if to tower over her, but Rumi kept coming. Juno instinctively stepped back. Another step. Another. She clipped a chair leg with her boot and stumbled, catching herself before she fell, her face flushing with humiliation.

“You’re just pretending,” Juno spat, trying to claw the power back.

“Oh, really?” Rumi’s tone was pure steel. “How about you get the fuck out of my bar and never come back.”

Juno’s eyes blazed. “You little—” she hissed and swung her hand up to slap Rumi.

But Rumi had already seen it coming. Her hand shot up, catching Juno’s wrist midair in a firm grip that made her gasp.

“How about you don’t try that again,” Rumi said quietly but with venom. “It’s my turn to be the wolf… and you the sheep. Now. Get. Out.”

Juno stared at her, chest rising and falling, her wrist still trapped. For the first time, she didn’t have a comeback.

For a beat, the bar was silent. The tension hung thick, like smoke in the air. Then, a single clap echoed from one of the remaining patrons. That small sound was enough to break the stillness, and soon it caught on. A wave of applause rolled through the bar, growing louder with each clap.

Rumi’s lips curled into a triumphant smile, her chest still racing. “The last round of drinks is on me tonight!” she shouted, her voice carrying over the cheering crowd. The bar erupted into cheers, laughter, and hollers.

She felt a warmth in her chest as her friends’ eyes found hers—Zoey, Abby, Reggie, even the bikers watching from their table. Rumi returned the smile, brushing past them and heading back to the bar to pour the drinks. Thankfully, it wasn’t a huge crowd to serve, just enough to feel like a victory lap.

“Rumi! That was incredible!” Abby said, leaning on the bar with a grin.

Reggie gave her a nod of respect, the faintest approving smile tugging at his gruff features.

Even Zoey, who usually stayed cool under pressure, couldn’t help herself. She leaned in, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to Rumi’s lips—a quiet but clear “I’m proud of you.” Rumi felt her heart lift even more, a small sense of calm settling over her in the midst of the chaos.

The applause, the laughter, the pride—it all felt like Rumi’s world for the first time in years. And she would protect it, no matter what.

Rumi carefully unfolded the cloth, revealing the black leather biker vest. Embroidered on the front was her name in bold, sharp lettering, and on the back—SHADOW WOLF—glimmering slightly in the dim light of the bar.

Her eyes widened, and a rare smile broke across her face. “You… you made this for me?”

Reggie leaned back in his chair, a faint grin under his rugged exterior. “Aye. You earned it, Rumi. After tonight, there was no question.”

Viper gave her a small, approving nod. “Figured it was about time you officially had your own place with us. You’re one of us now, Shadow Wolf.”

Rumi’s hands traced the leather, feeling the weight and meaning of it. “I… I don’t know what to say. This means a lot. More than I can put into words.”

Abby leaned over with a smirk. “Don’t overthink it, Rumi. Just wear it and keep showing everyone why that name fits.”

Zoey reached across the table, squeezing her hand. “Proud of you, Rumi. You were incredible tonight.”

Rumi looked up at all of them—her friends, Reggie, the crew—and felt a warmth she hadn’t felt in a long time. “Thank you… all of you. I’ll make sure to live up to it.”

Reggie raised his glass. “To Shadow Wolf—may she always run free, and may no one ever forget who she is.”

Everyone echoed the toast, glasses clinking, and for the first time in a long while, Rumi felt truly untouchable.

After the celebration, the night air was cool and quiet as everyone finally parted ways. Reggie gave Rumi a bear hug outside, patting her back firmly but not too hard. “See you around, kid,” he called out, letting out a deep, resonant howl. The rest of his crew followed suit, howling into the night before mounting their bikes and disappearing into the darkness.

Rumi and Zoey were left alone, walking hand in hand down the empty streets. Zoey’s eyes couldn’t help but linger on Rumi, taking in the leather vest that hugged her frame perfectly. “You… look so damn sexy in that,” Zoey said, a teasing lilt in her voice. “And the name… Shadow Wolf? Totally fitting for you.”

Rumi’s cheeks warmed at the compliment, but before she could respond, Zoey stopped and gently tugged her to a halt. “I...I couldn't do this while everyone was looking,” she murmured.

Without warning, Zoey reached up, gripping the collar of Rumi’s vest with both hands, and pulled her down. Their lips met in a slow, sweet kiss. Zoey’s tongue teased at Rumi’s, coaxing her mouth open as their tongues twirled together, sharing the heat and intensity of the moment.

Rumi melted into it, her confidence from earlier fueling the boldness in her movements. Zoey’s hands pressed against her chest, feeling the strength and danger that radiated from her, the vest now a symbol of it. Every second of that kiss reminded Zoey just how much of a badass Rumi was—and how deeply it affected her heart.

When they finally broke apart, both were slightly breathless, foreheads resting together, smiles tugging at their lips. The quiet street felt like theirs alone, a small pocket of safety and warmth after the chaos of the night.

Rumi and Zoey resumed their walk, fingers intertwined, the quiet night amplifying the small sounds of their footsteps. Zoey couldn’t resist a sly smirk as she leaned into Rumi. “I swear,” she said, her voice low, teasing, “that vest makes you look even more dangerous than you already are.”

Rumi shot her a grin, nudging Zoey lightly with her shoulder. “Careful,” she teased back, “you might just make me think you want to fight me.”

Zoey laughed, the sound warm and musical, and looped an arm around Rumi’s waist. “Oh, I’d fight you any day… but only if it ends like earlier,” she added, nodding toward their kiss, making Rumi laugh as well.

They paused for a moment under a streetlamp, the glow highlighting Rumi’s two-toned eyes and the sheen of her new vest. Zoey’s hand trailed up to Rumi’s cheek, thumb brushing lightly across her skin. “You have no idea,” Zoey whispered, her tone suddenly soft, “how proud I am of you… how much you inspire me.”

Rumi’s chest swelled with warmth, and she tightened her grip on Zoey’s hand. “It’s easier when I’ve got you by my side,” she admitted quietly.

Zoey leaned in, brushing her lips against Rumi’s temple before murmuring, “Always, Shadow Wolf. Always.”

With that, they continued walking, closer than ever, the city around them fading into the background. Every laugh, every touch, every shared glance was a small victory, a reminder that no matter what chaos the night—or life—threw at them, they had each other.

The sudden slam of the door echoed through the Apartment as Rumi pinned Zoey against the cool plaster, their mingled breaths fogging the air between them in frantic clouds. Zoey’s laughter dissolved into a gasp as Rumi’s teeth grazed her neck, the sharpness contrasting with the softness of her lips tracing downward.

Every nerve in Zoey’s body sang—a raw, electric current sparked by the possessive grip on her hips, the way Rumi’s thigh pressed insistently between her legs, leaving damp heat against her skin.

"Look at you," Rumi murmured, her voice rough velvet against Zoey’s collarbone. "All trembling and wanting." Her palm slid beneath Zoey’s shirt, fingertips mapping the frantic flutter of Zoey’s ribs, the sweat-slicked curve of her spine.

When Rumi lifted her, Zoey instinctively wrapped her legs around Rumi’s waist, clinging as they stumbled toward the bedroom—a tangle of limbs and muffled laughter against the doorframe.

The mattress dipped beneath them as Rumi lowered Zoey onto cool cotton sheets. For a breathless moment, Rumi hovered above her, eyes dark with hunger as she peeled away Zoey’s shirt. The dark red lace bra beneath drew a low, approving hum from Rumi’s throat.

"I knew you’d wear this," she breathed, teeth grazing the swell of Zoey’s breast through the fabric. Zoey arched off the sheets, a gasp catching in her throat. "Always playing dirty."

Rumi’s fingers hooked into the waistband of Zoey’s shorts, sliding them down her hips with agonizing slowness. Cool air kissed Zoey’s thighs as Rumi paused, fingertips tracing the damp outline beneath her underwear.

"Soaked already," Rumi murmured, pressing a kiss to Zoey’s trembling stomach. "And all for me." Zoey’s nails scraped lightly down Rumi’s back, urging her closer.

With a fluid shift, Rumi rolled onto her back, pulling Zoey astride her hips. "Your turn," she rasped, guiding Zoey’s hands to the clasp of her own bra. Zoey’s fingers fumbled only once before the black lace gave way, revealing the sharp intake of Rumi’s breath as cool air met her skin.

Zoey didn’t hesitate—she bent low, tongue tracing the hard peak of Rumi’s nipple, reveling in the shudder that ripped through Rumi’s body. "Still teasing?" Rumi choked out, hips lifting off the mattress.

Zoey answered by sinking her teeth gently into the soft flesh of Rumi’s inner thigh, just above the lace edge of her underwear.

Rumi’s hand tangled in Zoey’s hair, guiding her mouth higher. The first hot swipe of Zoey’s tongue against her made Rumi cry out—a raw, shattered sound that dissolved into panting breaths.

Zoey drank her in, the salt-sweet taste flooding her senses as Rumi’s thighs trembled around her ears. Every flick, every suck pulled ragged pleas from Rumi’s lips, her back arching off the bed like a drawn bow.

Zoey’s fingers slid beneath the damp lace at Rumi’s hips, peeling it down with agonizing slowness. The air hit Rumi’s exposed skin, raising goosebumps as Zoey paused to blow softly across her wetness. Rumi whimpered, hips lifting in silent demand.

"Look at you," Zoey breathed against her, the vibration drawing a shudder. "So fucking perfect like this." She didn’t tease—she dove in, tongue flat and demanding against Rumi’s clit.

Rumi’s hands scrabbled against the sheets, knuckles white. "Zoey—god—right there, don’t stop—" The words fractured as Zoey slid two fingers inside her, curling relentlessly against that spot that made Rumi’s vision blur. The rhythm was brutal, perfect—each thrust timed to the circling pressure of Zoey’s tongue. Rumi could feel the orgasm coiling low in her belly, tight and inevitable.

Zoey felt it too—the way Rumi’s muscles clenched around her fingers, the sharp gasp that hitched into silence. She pressed harder, faster, her free hand pinning Rumi’s hip to the mattress as Rumi’s thighs began to shake violently.

"Come for me," Zoey growled against her, the vibration tipping Rumi over the edge. Rumi’s cry tore through the room, body bowing as release ripped through her—wave after wave leaving her trembling and gasping, Zoey’s mouth still working her through the aftershocks.

Panting, Rumi reached down blindly, fingers tangling in Zoey’s hair to pull her up. Their lips crashed together, the taste of Rumi still sharp on Zoey’s tongue. "My turn," Rumi breathed, flipping Zoey onto her back with her strength.

She didn’t hesitate—her mouth found Zoey’s throat, teeth scraping skin as she slid lower, kissing a trail down Zoey’s sternum. When she reached Zoey’s hips, Rumi paused, pressing her face into the heat between Zoey’s thighs, inhaling deeply. "You smell amazing," she murmured, almost reverent, before her tongue swept a slow, deliberate path up Zoey’s soaked slit.

Zoey arched, fingers fisting the sheets. "Rumi—Please—" The plea dissolved into a moan as Rumi’s tongue circled her clit, relentless and precise. Rumi hummed against her, the vibration making Zoey’s hips jerk off the bed.

Then Rumi’s fingers joined—three this time, stretching her open with slow, twisting thrusts that stole Zoey’s breath. Every curl of Rumi’s fingers dragged against that spot deep inside, each stroke deliberate, maddening.

Zoey’s vision blurred, the world narrowing to the pressure building low in her belly, the wet heat of Rumi’s mouth, the scrape of teeth just shy of painful. She felt unraveled, exposed—every nerve alight as Rumi’s free hand slid beneath her, gripping her ass to angle her deeper.

"Look at me, baby," Rumi commanded, pulling back just enough to lock eyes. Zoey met her gaze, drowning in the dark intensity there, and that’s when Rumi sucked her clit hard between her lips while driving her fingers deep.

Zoey shattered—a silent scream tearing from her throat as her body seized, back arching off the bed like a live wire. Rumi didn’t relent, drinking her down as tremors wracked Zoey’s frame.

When the aftershocks finally subsided, Zoey lay boneless, trembling. Rumi crawled up her body, kissing her way slowly—hipbone, ribcage, the frantic pulse at her throat—before claiming her mouth. The taste of herself mingled with Rumi’s, intimate and dizzying.

"Still with me?" Rumi murmured against her lips, thumb brushing a stray tear from Zoey’s temple Zoey hadn’t realized had fallen. She nodded, too breathless for words, fingers tracing the sweat-slicked line of Rumi’s spine.

Rumi shifted, pulling Zoey against her side, skin sticking where they touched. The silence stretched, thick with spent energy and the faint scent of sex still clinging to the sheets. Outside, the city hummed—distant sirens, the rumble of a passing train—a world continuing while theirs had narrowed to this shared breath. Zoey pressed her forehead to Rumi’s shoulder, listening to the slowing drumbeat of her heart beneath her ear.

Rumi’s fingers traced idle patterns on Zoey’s bare hip. "You started that btw, I hope you know that."

"And how did I start that? Hmm?" Zoey hummed, nestling into Rumi's neck.

Rumi chuckled a little bit, "Really? Did you forget that kiss that you gave me on our walk home when we were alone, and no one was around?"

Zoey looked at her for a moment then sat up, and within another moment, slipping herself on top of Rumi once more, "You mean like this?" She said as she leans down, kissing Rumi the exact same way she did earlier. Their tongue dancing together as their lips pressed together.

They parted, and Rumi smiled. "Exactly like that." Pulling Zoey back for more kisses, before she finally settled back to Rumi's side. "I love you so fucking much, Zo."

"I love you too, Rumi." Zoey mumbled sleepily, kissing Rumi's shoulder softly then curling into her side under the blanket, wrapping her arms around her waist, pulling her closer.

They both finally drift off to sleep. Dreamless, and no nightmares, just the comfort of each others presence.

Chapter Text

Morning had come, and gone. It was late afternoon now, and Mira pushed herself to take a shower today, to clean the dried blood off of her face, and grime and dirt from her hair, and carefully clean the gashes on her side.

She was going to make today the day she finally told Rumi. No more hiding, no more pretending everything is okay. No more sunglasses to hide her eyes, no more masks to hide her split lips and she bruises on her jaw. No more clothes that cover her body, and her neck from the choking, and the healed and new cuts on her arms.

She stood there hesitant to step into the water  falling from the showerhead. So she took a deep shaky breathe, and slowly stepped in. Letting her body get used to the warmth of the shower

With a menacing grin, she went in the bathroom and joined Mira. But not to be cute or romantic, no, it was an interrogation. "Miraaa," she called out to her. "I figured we could shower together, save on water and all."  She was taking off the last of her clothes and stepping into the shower with Mira. Mira was standing there frozen, her back to Juno.

"I...I didn't hear you come in, I-I'm sorry..." She stammered, her breath catching as she felt Junos hands on her hips. Her heart sinking.

Why in the shower of all places?... She thought to herself.

"I....I thought you would be at work already." Mira stammered over her words a bit

Juno got close to her, wrapping her arms around Mira's waist, holding her close and tight so she couldn't get away easily. That's when she knew it was about to start. "Shhh," Juno murmured. "It's okay, the shower can be loud sometimes." She said it softly, but deep, her breath smelled of alcohol already. "And I'm still going, the boss is running late today. Don't have to go for another few hours."

There was a pause for a moment, all that was heard was Mira's heartbeat in her ears, and sound of the water from the shower, and waterfalling off of their bodies.

"I went to a bar last night," Juno started, Mira froze for a moment, but loosened so that Juno wouldn't get suspicious. "I ended up getting kicked out, all because I was trying to talk to an old friend. Apparently she owns the bar I went to." Her nails dug into the sides of Mira's belly a bit, making Mira wince.

"Y-Yeah?" She murmured back

"Yeah... Have you ever met someone by the name of...Rumi?" She whispered the name. Sending chills down Mira's spine.

"N-No, I haven't." Mira replied, but the was a lie. She did know Rumi. She trusted Rumi, and Zoey.

"And what about the shorter one, what was her name? Oh right.... Zoey..." She said it with a bit of disgust on her voice.

"Wha-What happened? Is....everything okay?" Mira asked hesitantly.

"You tell me, IS everything okay?" She hissed.

Does she know I'm lying? How can she? Does she know, and just toying with me again... The thoughts ran through her mind a mile a minute.

Junos nails dug deeper into her skin, almost feeling like they were going to break the skin. Her naked body against Mira's. Junos eye drifted to the wounds on her side, the cuts from the night Mira fell on the glass coffee table. They were carefully bandaged. "Did you do this yourself? Or did Rumi help you while I was gone?"

"I did it..." Mira said almost immediately, too quick. Her heartbeat was loud in her ears. She flinched when Juno drabbed the body wash and a washcloth. She placed the washcloth on Mira's shoulders, moving it in circles as she glided it across Mira's skin.

"You did a good job." Silence, then she continued, "It would be shame if they were to open up again, wouldn't it?"

All Mira could do was nod slightly. Tears starting running down Mira's cheeks. She knew something was coming, but she didn't know what exactly to expect.

Juno finished washing her body, and rinsing her off. Then her hand found a familiar spot on her body. Her throat, it was already bruised from the other night. but she tightened her grip anyway. slowly cutting off Mira's airflow just slightly.

"You're going to tell me the truth right now. Do you know Rumi? The purple-haired bitch that humiliated me in front of a bunch of people, and that little whore that's supposedly my replacement."

Mira could hardly breath now, stars started floating in her eyes. Juno was a bit taller than her, so she had a slight advantage, and it wasn't fair. Juno turned Mira around, hand still on her throat, pushing her against the wall, pressing her naked body against the front of Mira's. She leaned in closely, whispering into Mira's ear.

"I'm giving you one more chance, Mira, or I won't play nice today. I will make you bleed again." There was a pause, then her knee lifted against Mira's cunt. not to arouse her, but to keep her in place. Lifting her off the floor of the shower, pain shooting up from her center. "All those nights i finally let you go somewhere alone, you chose to go to a bar. And you kept going there to be a whore, didn't you?"

"N-No I didn't..." Mira choked out, struggling to stay balanced on Junos knee so she wouldn't fall. Juno turned off the water. "I...I wasn't do-"

Juno cut off her words by covering her mouth with her hand. "You're done now, because I say you are. Now get the fuck into the room." She demanded, voice low and surprisingly level. Juno let her wring her hair out first she, before stepping out of the shower and leaving the bathroom.

Mira sat at the edge of the bed, completely naked, vulnerable and cold. Juno stood in the doorway, still naked herself, water still dripping down her body. She shoved Mira back onto the bed, crawling on top of her, pinning Mira's legs with her own holding Mira's hands above her head.

"Juno... Please, let me go....please." Mira pleaded, begging. "I'm done with all of this.....I just... want to be let go. You don't love me anymore. And I....I don't love you anymore. So....why? Why keep me around?" She was trying to get through to Juno, but it wasn't working.

Juno let go of her. But not to let her go the way she wants to be let go. "Put some damn clothes on. you're going with me to work.

Mira was curled up on the bed now. She let a soft whisper but Juno could quite hear her. "What did you say?"

Mira sat up wrapping the blanket around her naked cold body, and spoke, "I said, no."

"No? You don't tell me no." Juno spat as she was dressing herself in her work clothes.

"I just did, Juno. I said, no. I don't want to go with you to work. I'm staying here. Please, let me stay here."

"It wasn't a request, Mira. You're going with me whether you like it or not. Now, get up and get dressed!" Juno raised her voice as she grabbed Mira's wrist and started pulling her out of the bed to stand up. Mira yanked her hand out of Junos grip with a small grunt.

"NO MORE! No more touching me!" Her voice cracking with the tears. "No more grabbing me on any part of me anymore, Juno. I'm done being pushed around by you, and shoved down! Or thrown like I'm nothing! I'M A PERSON, for fucks sake!"

Junos face twisted. "Are you done being a brat, now? Cause if you're not I can call off work and i can show you what a brat deserves."

"Don't touch me again, Juno!"

Juno grabbed her belt off the dresser folding it on itself, snapping it, before smacking it on the bed next to Mira, making her flinch hard. "If you want to play games, we can play games. She smacked her leg with the belt. "All that talk, but now you want to cower again. you're so fucking pathetic, I almost feel sorry for you."

She snapped her with the belt again even harder across the her belly, twice. Mira tried to crawl away, but Juno snapped her back with it twice, back to back. Mira screamed out. Tears streaming down her face.

Mira was flat on her stomach now, she couldn't move from the pain. The lashes kept coming, over and over again forming welts on her legs and back.

Juno stopped, and put the belt down, grabbing Mira by the arms, her fingers digging into her biceps. Mira yelled in pain as she pulled her up off the bed. "Remember when I said it would be a shame if these opened up again?"

She was talking about the cuts on Mira's side, they weren't close to healed, it wouldn't be hard to cause them to break open again and start bleeding.

Juno’s fingers slid beneath the bandage taped to Mira’s side—slow, deliberate, like a surgeon savoring the incision. The gauze peeled away with a wet rip, exposing the jagged gashes beneath. Mira whimpered, her body trembling against the mattress. "Please," she whispered, voice raw. "They’ll bleed again—you know they will."

Juno’s smile was a razor’s edge. "Oh, I’m counting on it." Her thumb pressed hard into the deepest wound, reopening the barely sealed flesh. Blood bloomed instantly, thick and dark, trickling down Mira’s ribs. She screamed, arching off the bed, but Juno held her down with a knee planted in her spine.

"Shhh," Juno crooned, leaning close enough for Mira to smell the stale whiskey on her breath. "You think screaming helps? It just makes it worse."  

With her free hand, Juno snatched the discarded belt from the floor. The leather cracked against Mira’s thigh, splitting skin where the welts had already risen. "You want to be free?" Another lash, this time across her lower back. "You want to be a person?"

The belt snapped again, catching the edge of a healing bruise on her hipbone. Mira choked on a sob, her fingers clawing at the sheets. "Stop—STOP!" she begged, but Juno only laughed—a low, guttural sound that drowned out the thud of the belt.  

Mira’s vision blurred as pain swallowed her whole. She tasted copper, realized she’d bitten through her lip. Juno’s fingers dug into her bleeding side, twisting the torn flesh. "Look at me," Juno demanded, wrenching Mira’s head back by her hair. "Look at what your lies cost you." Blood pooled beneath Mira’s body, warm and sticky.

She could feel it soaking into the mattress, smell its metallic tang mixing with Juno’s sweat. "I know you went to her," Juno hissed. "I know you crawled to that purple-haired cunt and her little pet."  

The belt fell, forgotten. Juno’s hand closed around Mira’s throat, squeezing until the room dimmed. "You’re mine," she spat, her thumb pressing into the bruised hollow of Mira’s windpipe. "Until I decide you’re trash." Mira’s gasp was a wet rattle. She couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think—only feel the blood still seeping from her side, the phantom sting of the belt, the crushing weight on her chest. Juno leaned in, her lips brushing Mira’s ear. "Now," she whispered, "let’s see how much more you can bleed before work."

Juno’s fingers returned to the gashes, not pressing this time, but digging. She hooked a nail beneath a flap of torn skin and ripped upward. Mira’s scream tore through the apartment—raw, animal, the sound of something breaking deep inside. Blood surged, hot and urgent, spilling over Juno’s knuckles, soaking the sheets beneath them.

Juno watched, her expression detached, almost curious, as Mira thrashed weakly beneath her. "Pathetic," she murmured, wiping her crimson-slicked hand on Mira’s thigh. Then, abruptly, she stood. "Clean yourself up," she ordered, pulling her jacket on over blood-spattered sleeves. "I’ll deal with you later." The door slammed. Silence rushed in, thick and suffocating.

Mira lay trembling, the pain a white-hot brand. Every shallow breath reopened the wounds. She forced herself to move, inch by agonizing inch, toward the bathroom. Gauze, antiseptic—her hands shook so badly she dropped the bottle twice.

She packed the gashes with trembling fingers, biting down on a washcloth to stifle her cries as the alcohol bit into raw flesh. Blood soaked through the first layer, then the second. She pressed harder, tears blurring her vision, until finally, blessedly, the bleeding slowed to a sluggish ooze.

She dressed in loose, dark clothes that wouldn’t cling to the fresh bandages. Every step sent knives through her side. The walk to the bar was a blur of sidewalk cracks and dizzying pain.

She didn’t know if Rumi would be there, or Zoey. She didn’t care. It was the only place left where someone might see her—really see her—before she bled out on the street.

The late evening light bled orange across the street as Mira staggered through the alley. Every step burned. The bandages around her ribs were already soaked through, sticking to her skin. Her breath came shallow, shaky — every inhale scraped against her bruised throat.

She clutched her side, vision swimming. Just a little more, she thought. Rumi… Zoey… please…

The neon glow of the bar sign flickered ahead. She almost cried from relief. She pushed through the door, the bell above jingling weakly — and then her knees buckled. She hit the floor with a soft, broken sound.

A couple of patrons near the counter laughed.
“Damn, another one from down the street! Someone had too much too early,” one joked.

Behind the counter, Rumi didn’t even look up at first.
“Abby, can you get them back up? I’m not cleaning up another drunk—”

“Uh— Rumi—” Abby’s voice shifted from amused to sharp. “RUMI! It’s Mira!”

That single word shattered the air.
Rumi’s head snapped up. “What?”

Zoey was already moving. “Mira?”

They both rushed from behind the counter. Mira lay sprawled on the floor, eyes half-lidded, skin pale and clammy. Her shirt was stained dark — fresh blood seeping through.

“Mira!” Rumi dropped to her knees, hands hovering before she dared touch her. “God—what happened to you?”

Zoey knelt beside her, pressing two fingers to her neck. “She’s breathing — barely. Her pulse is weak.”

Mira’s lips moved. It took effort for her to speak, her voice a rasp. “I… I’m sorry…”

“No, no, no—hey, don’t apologize.” Rumi cupped her cheek gently, panic trembling in her voice. “You’re okay, you’re here now. You’re safe.”

Zoey pulled her phone from her pocket. “I’m calling an ambulance. Now.”

Mira’s eyes fluttered, tears mixing with the sweat on her skin. “Didn’t… know where else to go…”

“Shh, it’s okay.” Rumi’s voice broke. “You came to the right place.”

Abby hovered nearby, jaw tight. “I’ll get towels—bandages—anything!” He sprinted toward the back.

Rumi pressed her hands over Mira’s side, trying to stem the bleeding. Her fingers came away slick and red. “She’s losing too much—Zoey!”

“I’m on it! Just keep pressure—Mira, stay with us.” Zoey leaned close, voice urgent but soft. “Look at me, okay? Look at Rumi.”

Mira’s gaze found Rumi’s face for one last fleeting moment. A faint, trembling smile ghosted across her lips.
“I… tried… to be brave…”

Rumi’s throat tightened. “You were. You are.”

Mira’s eyelids fluttered once more, then closed. Her body went limp.

“Mira—MIRA!” Rumi’s voice cracked as she shook her gently. “No, no, no, stay with me—don’t you dare—”

Zoey pressed her ear to Mira’s chest, relief flooding her face when she heard a faint heartbeat. “She’s unconscious, but she’s still here. Paramedics are on their way.”

Rumi nodded, though her hands were trembling uncontrollably. “Hold on, Mira. Please. You’re safe now. I promise you’re safe.”

She looked at Zoey, eyes glistening with fear and rage.
“We’re not letting her go back there. Not ever again.”

Sirens wailed faintly in the distance, still blocks away. Inside the bar, tension hung heavy in the air. Rumi kept her hands pressed against Mira’s wound, whispering reassurances even though Mira couldn’t hear her anymore. Zoey paced near the door, checking again and again through the front windows for the flashing lights.

“C’mon… c’mon…” Zoey muttered under her breath.

The door burst open with a metallic jingle. A gust of cool air swept in as Reggie stepped through, flanked by two of his crew — leather vests, worn boots, and concern already etched into their faces.

“Rumi! Zoey! What the hell happened?” Reggie barked, scanning the scene. His eyes landed on Mira’s limp form on the floor, the blood-stained towels, the shattered look on Rumi’s face. “Jesus Christ…”

Rumi didn’t look up. “She showed up like this — beaten, bleeding — she collapsed as soon as she walked in. We called an ambulance.”

Reggie crouched beside her, his expression hardening with anger. “Who did this?”

Zoey’s voice was cold. “Juno, it has to be.”

Reggie cursed under his breath. “Figures. That psycho’s got on my last nerve last night and I only met her then.” He glanced back toward the door. “We’ll clear the bar. No one needs to see this. Abby! Baby! Get everyone out. Tell ’em it’s closing early.”

Abby nodded, voice shaky. “Got it.” He and Baby moved fast, ushering the lingering patrons out into the street, locking eyes with the bloodstained floor and going pale.

Reggie looked back at Rumi and Zoey. “Once the medics get here, I’ll follow ‘em. One of my guys’ll drive Abby and Baby to the hospital if you need ‘em there. You two just focus on her.”

Rumi’s lips trembled, but she nodded. “Thank you, Reg.”

“Don’t thank me yet,” he said quietly. “Whoever did this… they’re gonna answer for it.”

The wail of sirens grew louder until flashing red lights washed over the walls. The ambulance screeched to a halt out front. Paramedics rushed in, kneeling beside Mira and gently moving Rumi aside.

“She’s got multiple lacerations — heavy blood loss,” one of them assessed quickly. “We need to stabilize and move.”

As they loaded Mira onto the stretcher, one paramedic turned to them. “We can only take one passenger.”

Rumi hesitated for a heartbeat, torn, her hands stained red and shaking.

Zoey stepped in, gripping her shoulder. “Go with her. She needs you.”

“What about you?” Rumi asked, voice cracking.

Zoey gave a small, steady nod toward Reggie. “I’ll ride with one of the bikers. You just stay with Mira.”

Rumi swallowed hard, then nodded. “Okay. Okay.” She leaned down, brushing a strand of hair from Mira’s face as the paramedics wheeled her out. “I’m right here, Mira. I’m not leaving you.”

Zoey followed them to the door, watching as Rumi climbed into the back of the ambulance. As the doors slammed shut, the siren flared again and the vehicle pulled away into the night.

Reggie crossed his arms, jaw tight. “Zoey. You sure you’re okay?”

Zoey exhaled shakily, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand. “No. But she needs us steady. Let’s go.”

Reggie nodded once and motioned to one of his crew. “Ride with her. The rest of us’ll follow.”

The engines rumbled to life outside, a convoy forming behind the ambulance’s fading lights — the promise of backup, of people who cared, roaring through the night toward the hospital.

The ambulance doors burst open as they reached the hospital, paramedics calling out vitals while wheeling Mira through the sliding doors. Rumi jumped out right after them, breath ragged, eyes locked on Mira’s pale face.

“Stay with her!” she called, voice trembling. “Please—just stay with her!”

A nurse intercepted her. “Ma’am, we need you to wait here. We’ll take her straight into surgery. She’s lost a lot of blood.”

Rumi froze mid-step, her chest tightening. “Is— is she gonna be okay?”

“We’re doing everything we can.” The nurse didn’t slow down. The automatic doors closed behind them, sealing Mira from sight.

Rumi stood there for a heartbeat, numb, until Zoey’s hand found hers. “Come on,” Zoey whispered. “Let’s go sit down.”

By the time Reggie and the others arrived—engines rumbling in the parking lot like restless thunder—Rumi and Zoey were already in the waiting room. Rumi was pacing, her boots squeaking against the linoleum floor. Her eyes were wild, unfocused.

Reggie strode in, his presence filling the space. “Any word?”

Zoey shook her head. “They took her back right away. She was barely conscious. They said… she lost a lot of blood.”

Abby sank into a chair, elbows on his knees, staring at the floor. Baby rubbed the back of his neck, muttering, “Who could’ve done somethin’ like that?”

Rumi didn’t answer. She was staring at her hands—stained deep crimson, the creases of her palms caked with dried blood. The more she looked, the harder it was to breathe. Her chest heaved; her throat tightened.

“She was bleeding so much,” Rumi whispered, voice cracking. “I couldn’t stop it. I tried, but—” Her voice broke entirely, tears spilling over. “It’s still on me—her blood’s still on me—”

Zoey stepped forward fast. “Hey. Hey, breathe. Rumi, look at me. Look at me.” She cupped Rumi’s face gently, forcing her to meet her eyes. “Come on. Let’s get you cleaned up, okay? She’s in good hands now. You did everything you could.”

Rumi nodded weakly, and Zoey guided her toward the nearest restroom.

Inside, Rumi gripped the sink, staring at her reflection—haunted eyes, trembling hands. She turned the faucet on full blast, scrubbing her palms until the water ran pink, then clear. Still, she kept rubbing, desperate, like she could erase the image from her memory.

Zoey stepped behind her, wrapping her arms around Rumi’s waist, resting her chin on her shoulder. “She’s alive because of you,” Zoey whispered softly. “You brought her here. You didn’t give up.”

Rumi’s breath hitched, tears falling into the sink. “I should’ve… I should’ve known… She tried to tell me before…”

Zoey shook her head. “Don’t. This isn’t your fault. You hear me? It’s not your fault.”

They stood there a moment longer, Rumi’s shaking slowly easing as Zoey held her. Then, finally, Rumi turned off the water and nodded. “Let’s go back.”

When they returned, the waiting room felt heavier—time moving like syrup, every second an eternity. The biker crew sat in silence, faces grim, eyes flicking toward the double doors each time they opened.

An hour passed. Then another.

Finally, the doors swung open and a nurse stepped out, clipboard in hand. “For Mira?”

Rumi shot to her feet. “Yes! That’s her—how is she?”

The nurse offered a small, tired smile. “She made it through the procedure. She’s stable now. Still unconscious, but she’s out of immediate danger. You can go see her—just one or two at a time.”

Rumi’s knees nearly gave out from relief. Zoey steadied her. “Thank you,” Rumi breathed.

The nurse nodded. “She’s in recovery, room 214.”

Zoey turned to Reggie and the others. “We’ll go first, let her know we’re here.”

Reggie gave a small nod. “We’ll hold it down out here. Go on.”

Rumi hesitated before heading toward the hallway, her hand clutching Zoey’s. Her stomach twisted with fear and guilt, but at least now there was hope. Mira was still alive.

And Rumi swore, silently, that whoever did this to her—would never lay a hand on her again.

The door to Room 214 clicked softly behind them. The steady beep of the heart monitor filled the silence, slow and rhythmic, but when Rumi stepped closer, her breath caught in her throat.

For a moment, she couldn’t move. Couldn’t speak.

Mira lay there, pale as the sheets beneath her. A swollen black eye bloomed across her face, her lower lip split and stitched, her throat darkened with finger-shaped bruises. Bandages wrapped her ribs and arms—some clean and new, others covering older, faded scars. The truth hit Rumi like a punch to the chest.

This wasn’t just one night.
This had been happening for a long time.

Rumi sank into the chair beside the bed, her hand trembling as she reached out to take Mira’s. “Oh my god…” she whispered. Her thumb brushed over the back of Mira’s hand—so cold, so fragile. “What did she do to you…”

Zoey placed a hand on her shoulder, quiet but firm. “She’s safe now. You got her here. That’s what matters.”

Rumi nodded, but her eyes never left Mira’s face. She squeezed her hand gently, afraid to hurt her but terrified to let go. “I’m right here,” she murmured. “You’re safe now, Mira. I promise. She can’t hurt you anymore.”

Hours passed in slow motion. Nurses came and went, checking vitals, adjusting fluids. Rumi and Zoey never left. They sat through the night—Zoey in a chair across the room, her head eventually resting back against the wall, eyes fluttering closed. Rumi stayed at Mira’s side, her forehead resting on their entwined hands, whispering quiet reassurances even though Mira couldn’t hear.

Sometime after dawn, a tremor ran through Mira’s fingers. Rumi stirred instantly. “Mira?” she breathed, lifting her head. Mira’s eyelids fluttered, her brow furrowing.

Then her eyes snapped open—and panic flooded them.

She jerked upright with a gasp, eyes darting wildly around the room. “No—no, please! I’ll do better, I’ll—” Her voice cracked, hoarse and terrified. Her hands flew to her throat as if expecting fingers to be there again.

“Mira! Hey, hey, it’s okay!” Rumi caught her hands gently, holding them down so she wouldn’t hurt herself. “You’re safe! You’re at the hospital—look at me!”

Mira blinked rapidly, chest heaving, eyes unfocused until they finally locked on Rumi’s face.

“R-Rumi?” she whispered, voice trembling.

“Yeah, it’s me. It’s Rumi. You’re okay, I promise. She’s not here. You’re safe.”

Mira’s lower lip quivered. “I thought— I thought she—”

Zoey jolted awake at the sound of her voice, rushing to the bedside. “You’re alright, Mira. We’ve got you. You’re not alone anymore.”

Mira’s breathing was still shallow, but she clung to Rumi’s hand like a lifeline. “I… I didn’t think I’d make it,” she choked out. “I didn’t think anyone would find me…”

Rumi shook her head, tears spilling freely now. “You did. You made it to us. You fought your way here. You’re the strongest person I know.”

Mira’s eyes welled, tears trailing down the bruises on her cheeks. “I’m so sorry…” she whispered. “For hiding it. For lying. I didn’t want to be a burden—”

“Don’t,” Rumi said sharply, her voice breaking. “Don’t ever say that. You are not a burden. You never were.” She reached up, brushing a strand of hair from Mira’s face, her touch soft. “You deserved help. You deserved love. You deserved to be safe.”

Mira sobbed quietly, shoulders shaking as Rumi pulled her gently into her arms—careful not to touch the bandages. Zoey stood close, a hand resting on Mira’s back, silent support.

The three of them stayed like that—just breathing, holding, existing—in the quiet hum of the hospital room.

For the first time in a long while, Mira wasn’t alone.

And Rumi swore she never would be again.

Mira stayed curled against Rumi’s side, letting herself be held without speaking. For once, she didn’t need to explain, justify, or apologize. Her chest was still tight, heart hammering from the memory of Juno, but Rumi’s steady warmth and Zoey’s quiet presence gave her a small anchor.

After a few minutes, her eyes wandered up—and froze on Rumi’s hair. The purple wolf cut, sharp, rebellious, daring. Mira reached up, almost tentatively, and twirled a strand around her fingers. “I… I really like it,” she murmured, voice small but sincere.

Rumi’s lips curved into a soft smile. “Thanks… It’s new. I wanted a change. Something to remind me I’m still me.”

Mira let her fingers linger on the soft strands, and then her gaze drifted downward—landing on the vest Rumi was wearing. She had never seen her wear it before, and it immediately drew her curiosity. “What’s that?” she asked quietly, pointing.

Rumi’s eyes flicked to the vest, a proud yet distant look crossing her features. “This?” she said, lifting a hand to brush over the embroidery. “It’s… my biker vest. My nickname’s on the back—‘Shadow Wolf.’ Got it last night.”

Mira’s brow furrowed slightly. “Shadow… Wolf?”

Rumi chuckled softly, shaking her head. “Yeah. It’s a long story. There’s this ex of mine… Juno. From high school. Thought she could intimidate me, get under my skin again, just like old times. She came to the bar, tried to start shit. Didn’t get very far.”

Zoey leaned in, her voice gentle but firm. “Rumi shut her down. Took back control of everything she’s built. The bar, the people… everything.”

Mira’s stomach dropped at the name. “Juno…” she whispered, voice trembling. Her hands clenched the blanket around her, a cold shiver running through her. She swallowed hard, her mind flashing to last night, the bruises on her own body. “She… she’s… she’s still dangerous,” Mira murmured, almost to herself.

Rumi’s hand lifted to Mira’s, squeezing gently. “I know,” she said softly, eyes meeting hers. “But you’re safe now. I’ve got you. We’ve got you. She’s not here, and she won’t be.”

Zoey added, “And neither of us will let her touch you again. You’re not alone in this, Mira.”

Mira nodded slowly, letting the words sink in, the panic ebbing just a little. For now, she didn’t have to talk about anything else—just the warmth of the hands holding her, the quiet strength of her friends, and the small reassurance that maybe… she was finally somewhere safe.

Rumi glanced down at Mira, brushing a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “Zoey, can you go give everyone updates? Let them know she’s stable?” she asked softly.

Zoey nodded, giving Mira’s hand a reassuring squeeze. “Be good, okay?” she whispered, before slipping out of the room to handle the calls and texts.

Rumi exhaled slowly, staying close to Mira’s side. The quiet of the room felt heavy now, only broken by the distant hum of hospital machinery. She reached for Mira’s hand, rubbing her thumb across her knuckles.

After a few minutes, the door opened and a doctor stepped in, clipboard in hand. “Hello, I’m Dr. Han. I wanted to check on you, Mira. How are you feeling right now?”

Mira blinked slowly, her voice small and hoarse. “Better… I think. Just… tired.”

Dr. Han nodded, scanning over her chart. “Understandable. You’ve lost a fair amount of blood and sustained multiple lacerations and bruising. We’ve stabilized everything, but you’ll need to stay under observation for a while longer, make sure there are no complications.”

Rumi stayed silent, gripping Mira’s hand a little tighter, though her eyes flicked nervously to the clipboard. “Doctor… how long before she can leave?”

The doctor hesitated, then said gently, “Physically, probably another day or two, depending on how she recovers overnight and how her vitals hold up. Mentally, that’s harder to say—we’ll make sure she’s safe and alert before discharge. We’ll monitor her closely.”

Mira shifted slightly, still exhausted, but the weight of Rumi’s hand in hers was grounding. “Okay,” she whispered.

Rumi gently squeezed her hand. “That’s fine, Mira. We’ll be right here, every step.”

The doctor nodded and gave her a small smile. “I’ll check back in a little later, but keep her comfortable and calm. It’s important she rests.”

As the door closed, Rumi stayed close, murmuring softly, “You’re going to be okay… I promise. Just breathe, alright? We’ve got you.”

Mira squeezed her hand weakly, letting herself be held, finally letting the tension drain a little from her body. For now, she didn’t have to speak, didn’t have to explain—just be.

Not long after, Zoey returned, her face bright but careful. Behind her came Abby and Baby, both carrying nervous energy as they approached the hospital room.

“Hey,” Zoey whispered softly, glancing at Mira. “They really wanted to see you… but we’ll keep a little distance, okay? Just to make sure you’re comfortable.”

Mira’s eyes flicked to the men, assessing. Her body tensed slightly, a flicker of caution running through her. She wasn’t ready for anyone too close yet—not after everything. But Zoey’s presence was reassuring, grounding her.

“…Okay,” Mira murmured, voice barely above a whisper. She stayed back against the bed, wrapped in the blanket around her.

Abby gave a small wave from a respectful distance, his usual confident posture softened. “Hey, Mira. Just wanted to make sure you’re doing alright,” he said quietly.

Baby nodded, leaning slightly against the wall, keeping his voice low. “We don’t wanna crowd you… just wanted to see you’re safe.”

Mira’s lips twitched slightly, the corners almost lifting. “Thanks,” she whispered. The reassurance from their careful approach, along with Zoey right there, made it just a little easier to breathe.

Zoey stayed at her side, gently holding Mira’s hand. “See? They just care about you,” she said softly. “No pressure, no rushing… just here.”

Mira nodded, letting herself relax just enough to allow them in her space—slowly, carefully, but enough to feel the warmth of being looked after.

Rumi took a deep breath, her hands still holding Mira’s gently. “The doctor said she’s stable,” she explained, her voice calm but firm. “The cuts and bruises were serious, but she’s going to be okay. It’s going to take time for her to fully heal, but she’s strong.”

Abby and Baby stayed back, as Zoey had instructed, giving Mira all the space she needed. The two men nodded, careful not to crowd her.

Baby shifted slightly, voice low. “Mira… I—I’m really sorry about the other day,” he said, his tone heavy with regret. “I didn’t mean to scare you, or make you fall. I should’ve been more careful.”

Mira blinked, her lips quivering slightly, and she gave a tiny nod. “It’s… okay,” she murmured. The apology softened her tension just a fraction. Her gaze then drifted to Abby, her voice small but filled with gratitude.

“And… thank you,” she said, her eyes locking on him. “For that night… at the bar. If you hadn’t gotten Rumi when you did… I probably wouldn’t have made it.”

Abby’s expression softened, his usual stoic demeanor giving way to something more tender. “You don’t have to thank me,” he said quietly. “We all just wanted to make sure you were safe.”

Rumi squeezed her hand gently, giving Mira an encouraging look. “See? You’re not alone in this,” she whispered. “We’ve all got your back. And we’ll help however you need.”

Mira let herself breathe a little easier, the heavy weight on her chest lightening ever so slightly. She wasn’t ready to talk about everything yet—not fully—but knowing they were there, keeping their distance and respecting her space, made her feel a little safer.

Evening settled outside the hospital windows, a dusky orange fading into pale blue. The fluorescent lights hummed overhead as Rumi sat beside Mira’s bed, brushing her thumb across the back of her hand. The blood had long since dried on her clothes, and the faint metallic smell still clung to her. Zoey stood near the door, glancing between them with a worried look.

Mira’s fingers tightened around Rumi’s. “Do you have to go?” Her voice was small, fragile. Her eyes darted toward the door, the corners trembling with fear. “I don’t… I don’t want to be alone.”

Rumi leaned in, squeezing her hand gently. “Hey, you’re not alone,” she murmured. “You’re safe here. The doctors are close by, and we’ll only be gone a little while. I promise.”

Zoey stepped closer, voice soft but steady. “We just need to shower and change. Rumi can’t stand the smell of blood,” she teased lightly, trying to bring a small smile. “And we’ll bring back something good for you to eat. You haven’t had anything since you woke up.”

Mira hesitated, her gaze flicking between them before finally giving a reluctant nod. “Okay… just don’t be too long.”

“We won’t,” Rumi assured her, brushing a strand of hair from Mira’s face. “Reggie and his crew are still out there. They’ll stay close, keep an eye on you while we’re gone.”

Mira’s grip loosened, trusting Rumi’s words more than her own fear.

Rumi gave her hand one last squeeze before standing, and Zoey leaned over to gently tuck the blanket closer around her shoulders.

When they stepped out into the waiting room, Reggie was leaning against the wall with his arms crossed, talking quietly with Eli and Viper. The moment he saw the look on Rumi’s face, he straightened up.

“Everything okay in there?” he asked, voice low and concerned.

“She’s awake,” Rumi said softly, exhaustion heavy in her tone. “But she’s scared. We need to go home, clean up, get some food. I don’t want her left alone, not even for a minute.”

Reggie gave a firm nod. “Say no more. We’ve got her.” He jerked his chin toward Eli and Viper. “We’ll stick close. No one gets in or out without us knowing.”

Rumi managed a small smile. “Thanks, Reggie. I owe you.”

He grinned, the scar at the corner of his mouth pulling slightly. “You don’t owe me a damn thing, kid. Go get cleaned up. You’ll scare the nurses lookin’ like that.”

Zoey snorted softly. “He’s not wrong.”

Rumi rolled her eyes, but the edge of a smile broke through. “Alright, alright. We’ll be back soon. Call me if anything changes.”

“You got it,” Reggie said, already pulling out a chair to sit guard outside the door.

As Rumi and Zoey walked down the hall, hand in hand, Rumi glanced back one more time—seeing Reggie’s crew settle in, like silent sentinels—and finally allowed herself a shaky exhale.

The hospital room was quieter now. The rhythmic beeping of the monitors and the faint hum of the air vent filled the silence. The chair Zoey had been sleeping in sat empty, and the warm presence Rumi carried with her was gone.

Mira lay in the bed, her body heavy and aching. Every breath reminded her of the bruises and the fresh bandages wrapped around her side. The sterile air smelled faintly of antiseptic and iron. She stared up at the ceiling, fingers curled weakly in the thin blanket.

Outside, through the half-open door, she could hear low voices—Reggie’s deep rumble, the occasional murmur from Viper, and the scrape of Eli’s boots as he shifted his stance. They weren’t talking much; mostly just… keeping watch.

After a few minutes, Reggie knocked lightly and stepped inside, keeping his voice soft. “Hey, kid. You doin’ alright in here?”

Mira blinked up at him. He looked rough—broad shoulders filling the doorway, tattoos winding up his arms, his leather vest patched and worn. But his eyes were kind, careful. The kind of careful that made her feel seen, not exposed.

“I… think so,” she said quietly. Her voice cracked, dry from hours of silence. “It’s just… really quiet.”

Reggie nodded, stepping closer but keeping his distance. “Yeah. Hospitals are like that sometimes. Too quiet.” He leaned against the wall, arms crossed loosely. “Zoey and Rumi’ll be back soon. You just gotta hang in there till then.”

Mira looked down at her hands. “They shouldn’t have to… see me like this.”

Reggie shook his head. “Nah. They should. People who care about you? They don’t walk away when things get ugly.”

She didn’t answer right away. Her throat tightened. “I don’t even know how to… talk about it yet.”

“You don’t gotta,” he said simply. “Not ‘til you’re ready. All you gotta do tonight is rest.”

From the hallway, Viper poked his head in. “Coffee’s crap out here, boss,” he muttered.

Reggie gave a half-smirk. “Ain’t about the coffee, man. It’s about stayin’ awake.” He looked back at Mira. “We’ll be out here all night if we have to. You just focus on healin’.”

Mira nodded slowly, her eyelids growing heavy again. “Thank you… for staying.”

Reggie tipped his head in a small nod. “Anytime.”

As he stepped back into the hall, Mira turned her face toward the window. The city lights blurred through the glass, and for the first time in days, she let her body relax against the pillow. There was pain, yes—but beneath it, a small flicker of safety.

Outside, Reggie settled into his chair, the weight of his presence solid and steady. Eli leaned against the wall near the door, arms folded, scanning the hallway like a hawk. Viper sat cross-legged on the floor, earbuds in but eyes open.

It wasn’t home. But it was safe enough—for now.

The apartment was quiet except for the sound of water running in the bathroom. Rumi and Zoey stood side by side under the shower, letting the warm spray wash away the day, the sweat, and the remnants of blood from Rumi’s work clothes.

Rumi tilted her head back, closing her eyes, letting the water drip down her face and into her purple wolf cut. Zoey reached for the shampoo, working it through Rumi’s hair gently, and Rumi felt herself relax under her touch.

“You okay?” Zoey asked softly, rinsing Rumi’s hair.

Rumi let out a shaky laugh. “Better than I was. Still… my hands are stained, though. I feel… gross.”

Zoey smirked. “Not as gross as me when you catch me sneaking in ice cream straight from the carton.” She ducked under the spray to rinse herself off.

Rumi laughed again, the tension easing slightly. “We need to get Mira some food,” she said, the thought of her friend driving a new kind of worry into her chest.

Zoey nodded. “Yeah… she’s probably starving. What do you think? Something light? Soup maybe?”

Rumi wrapped her hands around Zoey’s, squeezing gently. “Soup’s good. But maybe sandwiches too? Something she can eat without too much trouble.”

Zoey grinned. “Okay… soup, sandwiches… maybe a little fruit. Keep it soft. No hard stuff that might hurt her side.”

Rumi nodded, letting the warm water cascade over her one more time. “She’s scared. We need to make it easy for her.”

When they were done, they stepped out of the shower and grabbed towels, drying each other off with quiet smiles. Rumi grabbed some clean clothes from the dresser, slipping into her hoodie and sweatpants, feeling comforted by the softness against her skin. Zoey followed suit, tugging on a loose shirt and leggings.

“Ready?” Zoey asked, brushing her hair back with her fingers.

Rumi nodded. “Yeah… let’s get something for Mira. She’s going to need us tonight.”

They gathered their jackets and headed for the door, Rumi glancing back to make sure everything was in order. “We’ll be quick,” she said softly. “Soup, sandwiches, and fruit. Then back to her.”

Zoey took Rumi’s hand in hers as they stepped into the hallway. “She’s lucky she’s got us,” Zoey said, squeezing her fingers.

“And we’re lucky to have her,” Rumi replied, the thought of Mira’s frightened, fragile form driving her to move faster, to get back and keep her safe.

Rumi slung her hoodie over her shoulders, sliding the keys onto the counter. “We don’t usually drive, but… this will get us back faster.”

Zoey picked up the bags with the food carefully. “Soup, sandwiches, fruit… and maybe some water too. She’ll need it.”

Rumi nodded, grabbing the other bag. “Let’s go before she starts worrying.”

They stepped out into the afternoon sun, the city buzzing around them. The car ride was quiet but tense—both of them lost in thoughts about Mira. Rumi kept stealing glances at Zoey, who was gripping the steering wheel a little tighter than usual.

“She’s going to be scared,” Zoey said softly, breaking the silence. “She’s been through so much… I just want to see her smile again.”

Rumi reached over and squeezed her hand. “We’ll get her there. Make her feel safe. Just us, and Reggie and his crew are still there. She’s not alone.”

When they arrived at the hospital, Rumi parked in the nearest spot and both of them hopped out, carrying the food. The sterile smell of the hospital hit them instantly, but it didn’t compare to the thought of Mira lying there alone.

As they walked toward the entrance, Zoey whispered, “She’s going to be relieved to see us.”

Rumi glanced at her, lips tight with worry. “I hope she trusts us enough… she’s been through a lot. But we’ll make it right. Starting now.”

They pushed through the automatic doors, food in hand, and headed straight for Mira’s room, ready to comfort her and give her a small taste of normalcy.

Reggie stood just outside Mira’s hospital room, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed. When he spotted Rumi and Zoey coming down the hallway, he straightened up.

“She’s been out cold since you left,” he said quietly, voice low so as not to wake her. “Didn’t even stir when the nurse came by. Viper’s been in there with her—kept things calm.”

Rumi nodded gratefully. “Thanks, Reggie. For staying.”

“Always, kid. Go on in. She’ll be glad to see you.”

Rumi pushed open the door gently, the scent of antiseptic mixing with the warmth of their food. Inside, the blinds were half drawn, sunlight spilling softly across Mira’s face. Viper sat in the corner chair, keeping watch with her boots propped on the leg rest. She gave a small nod when Rumi and Zoey entered.

“She’s been peaceful,” Viper said quietly, standing up. “Breathing’s steady. No nightmares so far.”

Zoey smiled faintly. “Thanks for watching her.”

Viper brushed her hands on her jeans. “You two got it from here?”

“Yeah,” Rumi said. “We’ll stay with her.”

“Alright.” Viper gave Mira a lingering glance before slipping out quietly, shutting the door behind her.

The room was still, except for the steady rhythm of Mira’s breathing and the faint beep of the heart monitor. Rumi set the food on the bedside table, then gently reached out and touched Mira’s hand.

“Mira…” she whispered softly, giving her hand a light squeeze. “Hey… it’s us. We’re back.”

Mira stirred, lashes fluttering as her eyes slowly opened. Disoriented at first, her gaze darted around until it landed on Rumi’s face—then Zoey’s. Relief washed over her tired features.

“Hey there,” Zoey said warmly. “We brought you something to eat. Thought you might be hungry.”

The smell of warm broth and soft bread filled the air, gentle and comforting. Mira shifted slightly, pushing herself up against the pillows with a small wince.

Rumi reached to help steady her. “Easy… don’t rush. Just small bites, okay?”

Mira looked at the food, her throat tightening with more than just emotion. She reached up, gingerly touching the bruised skin at her neck. “It… it hurts,” she whispered, voice raspy.

Rumi’s chest ached at the sound. “I know,” she said softly, her voice trembling. “But you need something in your stomach. Just a little, yeah? We’ll take it slow.”

Zoey carefully scooped a spoonful of broth, blowing on it to cool it down, then held it near Mira’s lips. “Just a sip. You don’t have to finish it all.”

Mira hesitated, the simple act of swallowing feeling like a mountain—but she met Rumi’s eyes, and something in her softened. Trust. Safety. She leaned forward slightly and took a cautious sip.

It burned going down, and her eyes watered, but she didn’t pull away. She swallowed again, this time slower.

“That’s it,” Rumi murmured gently. “You’re doing good.”

Mira let out a shaky breath, whispering, “Thank you…”

Zoey gave her a small, reassuring smile. “You don’t have to thank us. We’re here, okay? We’re not going anywhere.”

Rumi brushed a strand of hair behind Mira’s ear, her voice quiet but firm. “You’re safe now, Mira. You don’t have to fight alone anymore.”

Mira’s eyes filled with tears, but for the first time, she didn’t try to hide them. She just nodded faintly, holding onto Rumi’s hand, taking another small sip of broth—each swallow a step toward healing.

The room was dim and quiet, lit only by the soft glow of a small lamp near the bedside. Outside, the city hummed faintly through the window, distant and muffled. Mira slept soundly, her breathing even, her hand still loosely curled around the edge of the blanket.

Rumi sat in the chair closest to her, legs drawn up slightly, watching every rise and fall of Mira’s chest. Zoey leaned back on the couch across the room, half-dozing but alert enough to stir when the door clicked open.

A doctor stepped in quietly, clipboard in hand. His voice was soft but professional.
“Evening,” he said in a low tone. “Just here for a quick check-in. How’s she been?”

Rumi rose to her feet, brushing her palms against her jeans. “She’s been resting most of the evening. Ate a little earlier, drank some broth. Still has some pain in her throat though.”

The doctor nodded, moving closer to the bed. “That’s expected. The bruising around her neck will take time to fade, but I want to make sure there’s no internal swelling that could worsen overnight.”

He gently shifted the blankets back just enough to inspect the bruises along her throat, his touch careful not to disturb her too much. Mira stirred faintly, a soft murmur escaping her lips, but didn’t wake.

“Still tender,” he murmured, shining a small light to get a better look. “Color’s improving slightly though. That’s a good sign.”

He then moved to her side, lifting the edge of her hospital gown where the stitched gashes ran along her ribs. The clean bandage had a faint shadow of dried blood, but nothing fresh.

“These stitches are holding well,” he said, examining them closely. “No signs of infection, and her vitals have stayed stable all night.”

Rumi crossed her arms, tension easing slightly. “So… she’s healing?”

“Yes,” the doctor confirmed, offering a reassuring glance. “It’s slow, but steady. Her body’s responding well. Keep encouraging her to eat and drink—soft foods for now. And if her throat worsens or she struggles to breathe or swallow, call the nurse immediately.”

Zoey shifted in her seat, rubbing her eyes. “Got it. We’ll keep a close eye on her.”

The doctor jotted a few notes on the clipboard, then covered Mira again with care. “She’s safe here. And with rest, she’ll recover. Emotionally… that may take longer. But physically, she’s on the right path.”

He offered a small nod before turning to leave. “You’re both doing the right thing by staying close. She’ll feel it.”

When the door closed softly behind him, Rumi sank back into her chair, eyes still on Mira. She reached out and gently brushed her thumb along Mira’s knuckles, whispering quietly,
“You’re doing so good, Mira… just keep resting. We’ve got you.”

Zoey watched quietly, her voice low and warm. “We’ll be here when she wakes up. Every time.”

The steady rhythm of the monitor filled the silence, a soft reminder that she was alive—that she was healing.

Chapter Text

The first light of dawn slipped through the thin hospital curtains, painting the room in pale gold. The rhythmic beeping of the monitor was steady, comforting — a soft heartbeat in the silence. Mira still slept, her breathing calm, her hand resting on the blanket close to Rumi’s.

The door creaked open gently. Baby peeked inside first, carrying a paper bag filled with warm breakfast — the smell of fresh coffee and bread trailing behind him. Abby followed with a tray of bottled water and fruit.

They spoke in whispers.
“Looks like they crashed here all night,” Abby murmured, glancing at Rumi slumped forward slightly in the chair beside the bed, her head resting on her arm. Zoey was curled up on the couch across the room, a blanket draped over her legs.

Baby smiled faintly, shaking his head. “Can’t blame ’em. They’ve been watching over her non-stop.”

He set the bag down on the small table near the bed and crouched beside Rumi’s chair. “Hey… Rumi,” he whispered gently, giving her shoulder a soft shake. “Morning. Brought breakfast.”

Rumi stirred, her eyes blinking open, still heavy with sleep. “...Baby?” Her voice was hoarse from the long night.

“Yeah,” he said softly. “Didn’t mean to wake you too rough. Figured you’d want something warm before visiting hours get busy.”

Rumi straightened, rubbing her eyes and glancing toward Mira. She was still asleep, thankfully. A sigh of relief escaped her lips. “Thanks… really.”

Across the room, Abby leaned down beside Zoey. “Hey, sleepyhead,” he whispered with a grin. “Time to wake up.”

Zoey groaned softly, rolling over before opening one eye. “...Abby? You two came back early.”

“Yeah,” Abby said, offering her a cup of coffee. “Wanted to check on you guys. And figured you might want real food instead of vending machine junk.”

Zoey accepted the cup with a grateful smile. “You’re a lifesaver.”

Rumi glanced back at Mira, watching the gentle rise and fall of her chest before looking to the guys. “She’s still sleeping. Doctor said that’s good — she needs the rest.”

Baby nodded, lowering his voice even more. “We won’t wake her. Just wanted to drop off food and see how she’s holding up.”

Rumi stretched a little, her body sore from the chair, and then whispered, “She had a rough night, but she’s healing. The doctor checked on her again late — said she’s stable.”

Zoey joined her at the bedside, both of them standing quietly for a moment, watching Mira. The morning light caught the soft purple of her bruises, but her face was more peaceful than it had been.

Abby handed Rumi a wrapped breakfast sandwich. “Eat. You need it too.”

Rumi hesitated, then nodded, taking it. “Thanks, Abby. You guys didn’t have to—”

Baby interrupted gently, “Yeah, we did. You’ve been here all night. We’ve all got her back, okay?”

Rumi’s lips curved into a small, tired smile. “Yeah… okay.”

Zoey looked toward the door, lowering her voice. “Reggie and the others head out?”

“Yeah,” Abby said. “Went home to rest. Said they’d swing by later tonight to check in.”

Rumi nodded slowly, her gaze returning to Mira. “Good… she’ll feel better seeing everyone cares.”

Baby gave Rumi a reassuring smile. "She's got all of us to support her, and even though it'll take time, she will get better," Abby nodding in agreement.

"We'll be in the waiting room for a while, we don't want to smother," Abby mentioned as he and Baby made their way back towards the door.

"Thanks guys, really," Zoey says with a small tired smile.

Baby gave a smile back, "Anytime, Zo."

The room settled into a quiet comfort again — the smell of warm food filling the air, the soft sound of hospital machines steady in the background, and the weight of relief beginning to ease their hearts as morning began.

Mira’s chest heaved as she slept, her breathing quick and uneven. A faint whimper escaped her lips, then another. Her body twitched involuntarily, hands curling into the sheets as if trying to push something away.

“She’s having a nightmare…” Zoey whispered, her eyes wide as she glanced at Rumi.

Rumi’s jaw tightened, stepping closer. “I know… just stay calm, we’re here.”

Mira’s hands flailed slightly, her body arching against the bed. “N-no… stop… please… don’t…” she gasped, muffled by the sheets. Her eyes were shut tight, brows furrowed in agony, and her muscles tensed like she was bracing herself for something.

“Shhh… Mira, it’s okay. You’re safe,” Rumi murmured, placing her hand gently over Mira’s trembling one, trying to anchor her to the present.

Suddenly, Mira’s legs jerked violently. She cried out, voice raw and panicked. “No! N-no… stop it… please!”

Rumi’s heart leapt. “Mira! Wake up! Mira, it’s just a dream, you’re safe!”

The nightmare climaxed — in Mira’s mind, the gashes on her side ripped open again, the pain vivid and fresh. She let out a blood-curdling scream that echoed through the quiet hospital room, startling Zoey and Rumi.

“Ahhh! Juno—stop! No!” Mira’s voice cracked, desperate. Her fists banged against the sheets, trying to claw at the phantom pain.

Rumi leaned over the bed, voice firm but soothing, gripping her shoulders. “Mira! Look at me! You’re okay! It’s over, it’s over!”

Zoey rushed to her side too, holding her free hand tightly. “You’re safe here, Mira! No one’s hurting you!”

Mira jolted awake fully, her eyes wild. Her hands instinctively shot to her sides, feeling for the bleeding she feared, even though there was none. Panic flared in her gaze as she realized someone was leaning over her. Her vision blurred and her mind raced — in the confusion, the person above her wasn’t Rumi. It was Juno, she thought.

“No… don’t… don’t touch me! Get away!” Mira screamed, flailing weakly despite her small frame. Her body tensed, ready to fight or run, though the room was safe and empty of Juno.

Rumi’s voice broke through her panic. “Mira! It’s me! It’s Rumi, I’m right here! Zoey’s here too, you’re safe!”

Zoey held her hand firmly, gently pressing it against Mira’s side to reassure her. “It’s okay, Mira. Nothing’s hurting you. Look at me, you’re safe.”

Mira’s body trembled violently, limbs still twitching, as the terror slowly began to lift, though her hands lingered near her sides, convinced the pain might return. “I… I…” she choked out, voice shaking, eyes wide. “It’s… it’s her… Juno…”

Rumi’s eyes softened, gripping Mira’s hands tightly. “No, Mira… it’s over. She’s gone. You’re here, with us. You’re safe. I promise, nothing can touch you now.”

Gradually, Mira’s body began to relax, shaking less violently as her screams softened into pained sobs. Rumi and Zoey kept their hands on her, murmuring reassurances, waiting for her to fully realize she wasn’t in Juno’s grip anymore.

“She’s going to be okay…” Rumi whispered, though her heart still raced. “We’ve got you, Mira… we’ve got you.”

The room fell into a heavy silence, the aftermath of the nightmare lingering in the tense air, as Mira’s body slowly calmed, still trembling slightly in the safety of their presence.

Mira’s breaths came in sharp, uneven bursts as her eyes darted wildly around the room — searching, desperate — until they landed on Rumi and Zoey. For a split second, she didn’t see them; she saw her — saw Juno’s shadow in Rumi’s outline, Zoey’s touch like a ghost from the nightmare.

Her body tensed, jerking back against the pillows, her hands flying to her sides. They were dry — no blood — but her brain screamed otherwise.

“Don’t—” she choked out, curling into herself, arms wrapping protectively around her ribs. Her whole body trembled, her breathing ragged.

“Mira,” Rumi said softly, hands raised, voice low and gentle. “Hey… it’s me. It’s Rumi.”

Mira’s eyes snapped to her — wide, frightened, unfocused.

“You’re safe now,” Rumi whispered, inching closer but not touching. “She’s gone. You’re safe.”

Zoey knelt beside the bed, her tone steady but warm. “Look at us, Mira. It’s just us — me and Rumi. Nobody else.”

Mira’s eyes darted between them, her chest heaving. Then slowly… slowly… the fear started to falter. Recognition flickered through the haze. Her shoulders slumped, her breath hitching as her lip trembled.

“R-Rumi…?” she whispered, her voice raw.

Rumi nodded, tears already welling in her eyes. “Yeah, it’s me. You’re okay now, Mira. You’re safe.”

And just like that, the dam broke. Mira’s face crumpled, a sob tearing through her chest. “I… I’m free…” she gasped, voice shaking, disbelieving. “I’m… really free…”

Rumi moved closer, slowly, giving her time to see every inch of the motion. When she finally reached out, Mira flinched hard — a reflexive twitch of her shoulders, a quick jerk of her head — before freezing again, realizing Rumi’s hand was gentle, not grabbing.

Rumi stopped immediately, whispering, “It’s okay. I’m not gonna hurt you.”

Mira’s breath hitched again. Her fingers trembled before she reached out and gripped Rumi’s hand, clinging to it. Then, without warning, she collapsed forward into Rumi’s arms, sobbing hard into her shoulder.

Rumi held her carefully, mindful of her injuries, her own tears falling freely. “Yeah, you are… You’re free, Mira. You’re safe. She can’t touch you anymore.”

Zoey sat beside them, rubbing Mira’s back in slow, gentle circles. Mira flinched slightly at the touch, her muscles tightening — but when she realized it was Zoey, her breathing eased a little, the tension melting just enough for her to let it happen.

“You don’t have to be afraid now,” Zoey murmured softly. “You’re not alone anymore. We’ve got you.”

Mira’s cries turned into quiet, shaky breaths. “I didn’t think… I’d ever get away,” she whispered, voice small and raw. “Every time I closed my eyes, I could still feel her… hear her… even smell the alcohol on her breath…”

Rumi gently brushed a strand of hair from Mira’s face. When her fingers brushed her cheek, Mira flinched again — but stayed still this time, eyes fluttering shut as a tear slipped down her face.

“She doesn’t get to own any part of you anymore,” Rumi said firmly, voice breaking but steady. “You’re not her prisoner. You never were. And you never will be again.”

Mira looked up at her, eyes red and swollen. “I… I want to believe that,” she whispered.

Zoey gave a soft nod. “You don’t have to believe it all today. We’ll help you, one step at a time.”

Mira’s fingers tightened around Rumi’s hand, holding on as though letting go would send her spiraling again. “Thank you… both of you…”

Rumi smiled gently through her tears. “Always.”

When Rumi lifted her hand to wipe a tear from Mira’s cheek, Mira’s whole body flinched again — a sharp, involuntary recoil. She gasped softly, whispering, “S-sorry, I didn’t mean to—”

Rumi shook her head immediately. “Don’t apologize. You’re okay. It’s gonna take time.”

Zoey leaned forward, resting her hand gently on the bed beside Mira, not touching her this time. “We’ll go slow. You set the pace. No one’s gonna rush you, okay?”

Mira nodded, tears spilling again, but this time they were softer — not from fear, but release. “Okay…” she whispered, her voice trembling with both exhaustion and hope.

For the first time in so long, she felt something unfamiliar but warm pressing against the ache inside her chest — safety. And the faint, fragile promise that maybe one day, she could start to heal.

The room had finally grown quiet again. Mira’s sobs had softened into small, uneven breaths. Rumi sat beside her still, fingers loosely intertwined with hers, while Zoey watched from the other chair — alert, protective, but giving Mira space.

A soft knock came at the door, and the doctor stepped in, clipboard in hand. His expression was calm but concerned, eyes scanning the room before landing on Mira.

“I heard some commotion earlier,” he said gently, stepping closer but keeping a respectful distance. “Is everything okay in here?”

Rumi looked over at him, then back to Mira, giving her hand a reassuring squeeze. “She had a nightmare,” Rumi explained softly. “It… it got bad for a minute. She woke up scared.”

The doctor nodded slowly, understanding in his eyes. “That’s completely normal, especially after what she’s been through.” He took a step closer, keeping his voice low and steady. “Mira, I just want to check a few things, alright? Make sure you’re still healing the way you should.”

Mira hesitated, her fingers tightening around Rumi’s hand. Her voice was small, shaky. “I-I’m sorry… I didn’t mean to cause a scene.”

“You don’t have anything to apologize for,” the doctor said immediately, shaking his head. “You’ve been through a lot. Your body and your mind are both trying to catch up. Nightmares like that are a normal reaction.”

She nodded faintly, tears still clinging to her lashes. Rumi leaned closer and whispered, “You’re safe, Mira. He’s just here to help.”

The doctor pulled on a pair of gloves, his movements slow and deliberate. “I’d like to take a look at your throat and the bruising around your eye first, okay? Those are my main concerns right now.”

Mira swallowed hard, her hand twitching in Rumi’s. Her voice came out as a whisper. “O-okay…”

He stepped to her bedside, careful not to tower over her. “Can I lift your chin, just a little?” he asked softly.

Mira hesitated — her breath catching — but then nodded. “Yeah…”

He reached out gently, fingers barely brushing her skin as he tilted her chin upward. The bruising was still dark and swollen, purplish-black around the base of her throat, spreading faintly toward her collarbone. He studied it for a moment, then sighed quietly.

“Still tender?” he asked.

Mira nodded slightly. “It hurts… when I swallow,” she admitted, voice cracking.

“That’s to be expected,” he murmured. “You’ve got soft tissue damage here, but the good news is it’s not worsening. I don’t see signs of airway compromise. I’ll keep monitoring it — we’ll want to make sure it heals cleanly, but you’re stable.”

He stepped back slightly, giving her room to breathe. “Next, I want to check your eye, and then your side — where the stitches are. Only if you’re comfortable.”

Rumi squeezed her hand gently. “We’re right here.”

Mira took a deep breath and nodded again. “O-okay.”

The doctor moved to her left eye — the one that was swollen and bruised. He shone a small penlight near her face. Mira flinched at the sudden brightness but stayed still, biting her lip.

“Your left eye’s still quite swollen,” he said softly, adjusting the light, “but the bruising looks like it’s starting to fade. No further bleeding under the skin, which is a good sign. Your vision should stay clear — but if you notice blurring or pain, let me know right away.”

Then he turned his attention to her side. “Can you lift your gown a little, just enough so I can check the stitches?”

Mira hesitated, her hand hovering over the blanket. “They… they still hurt,” she whispered.

“I’ll be quick,” he promised. “I just want to make sure there’s no reopening or infection.”

Rumi helped her lift the edge of the blanket just enough, exposing the bandaged side. The doctor peeled back the gauze carefully, revealing the sutured gashes — red and raw, but holding. Mira winced as the air touched them, her fingers gripping the sheet tightly.

“They’re healing,” the doctor said softly. “No new bleeding. No signs of infection. You’re doing everything right.”

Mira let out a shaky breath of relief, her eyes glistening. “It… it still hurts,” she whispered.

“I know,” he said kindly. “It will for a while. But the worst of it is over, Mira. You’re healing now — inside and out.”

He replaced the bandage gently and stepped back. “You should rest more today. If you can manage soft foods, keep eating slowly. And drink water when you can — small sips.”

Mira nodded faintly, her voice almost gone. “Thank you…”

He gave her a reassuring smile. “You’re safe here, Mira. You don’t have to worry anymore.”

Rumi glanced up at him, her voice quiet but curious. “How long… do you think she’ll need to stay here?”

The doctor looked thoughtful for a moment. “Physically, I’d like her to stay at least another three or four days — just to make sure her throat and stitches are stable, and to manage the pain. But emotionally… it might take longer before she feels ready to leave. We can connect her with a trauma counselor and support resources in the meantime.”

Rumi nodded slowly. “That makes sense. Thank you.”

“Of course.” He turned back to Mira with a warm, steady smile. “You’re doing well, Mira. One step at a time.”

As he left, Rumi brushed her thumb along Mira’s knuckles. “See? You’re doing so good,” she whispered.

Zoey leaned forward with a small smile. “One step at a time, right?”

Mira nodded, still trembling slightly, but there was something new behind her eyes — a fragile kind of peace. “Right,” she whispered.

Once the doctor left, the room felt quiet again, save for the soft hum of the monitors and the steady rhythm of Mira’s breathing. Rumi helped adjust the blankets over her, making sure she was comfortable, brushing a stray lock of hair from her forehead.

“You okay?” Rumi asked gently, her voice soft and warm. “You want to rest a little more, or… maybe try to eat something?”

Mira’s gaze drifted down to her hands, fingers fiddling nervously with the blanket. The thought of eating made her throat ache, but part of her knew she needed the strength. After a moment, she nodded, her voice faint. “I… I can try.”

Rumi smiled softly. “That’s good. Just a few bites. We’ll take it slow.”

She got up and walked to the small bag on the counter — the one Baby and Abby had brought earlier. She opened it, rummaging quietly through the containers. The scent of warm rice, broth, and soft vegetables filled the air. She picked out a small bowl of rice porridge and some soft, cooked eggs — gentle food, easy on Mira’s throat.

“This might be good,” Rumi murmured, setting the tray on the rolling table beside the bed. “It’s soft, and not too hot.”

Mira sat up slowly with Rumi’s help, grimacing a little at the pull of her stitches. Zoey adjusted the bed’s incline so Mira could lean back comfortably.

Rumi peeled the lid off the container, stirring the porridge gently to let the steam fade. “Smells pretty good, huh?”

Mira gave a weak little smile, though her eyes still carried traces of uncertainty. “Yeah… it does.”

Rumi scooped a small spoonful, blowing on it lightly to cool it down. “Just a little, okay?” she said, holding it out.

Mira hesitated — the simple act of being fed made her heart twist with emotion she couldn’t quite name — but when she met Rumi’s eyes, all she saw was patience and warmth. No pressure. No judgment.

She parted her lips and took the spoonful. The porridge slid down her throat with a mild sting, but she managed it. She winced slightly, swallowing carefully.

“Too much?” Rumi asked quickly.

Mira shook her head, her voice a whisper. “No… it’s okay. I just… have to go slow.”

Rumi nodded, a small smile tugging at her lips. “Slow is fine. We’ve got time.”

Zoey leaned over with a soft grin. “See? You’re doing great.”

Mira took another small bite, then another. Her hands trembled slightly, but Rumi’s steady presence helped keep her grounded. After a few spoonfuls, she pushed the tray gently away.

“That’s enough for now,” she murmured, voice raspy but steadier than before.

“Good job,” Rumi said, setting the tray aside. “You did great.”

Mira leaned back against the pillows, her body relaxing bit by bit. “Thank you,” she whispered, her eyes meeting Rumi’s. “For… everything.”

Rumi reached out, brushing her thumb over Mira’s hand again. “You don’t need to thank me,” she said softly. “You’re safe now. That’s what matters.”

Mira nodded slowly, her throat tight with emotion — not from pain this time, but from something she hadn’t felt in a long time: safety.

Zoey added quietly, “We’re right here with you, Mira. You’re not alone anymore.”

Mira blinked back tears, whispering, “I know… it just feels strange. Good… but strange.”

Rumi smiled gently. “That’s okay. It’ll start feeling more normal soon.”

Mira leaned her head back, eyes fluttering closed. For the first time since she woke up, she didn’t flinch when Rumi’s hand brushed hers again.

While Mira slept, the hospital room settled into a quiet rhythm. Baby and Abby returned briefly, just to check in on her. Baby peeked over the bed, his expression softening as he saw her resting. “She’s still asleep,” he said quietly, not wanting to wake her. Abby nodded, standing near the door. “Good. That’s the most important part right now.”

Zoey glanced down at Mira, then turned to Rumi. “Hey… do you want to come with me to the gift shop? I want to get her something small… you know, to cheer her up a little.”

Rumi raised an eyebrow but smiled faintly. “Yeah, I think she could use that. I’ll go with you.”

Zoey looked back at Baby and Abby. “Can you guys keep an eye on her while we’re gone? Just… make sure she doesn’t wake up alone or anything.”

“Of course,” Baby said, a hint of concern in his voice. “We’ll be right here.” Abby nodded in agreement.

Rumi and Zoey quietly slipped out, careful not to make any noise. They walked down the hospital corridor, their shoes echoing softly on the polished floor, until they reached the gift shop.

Zoey scanned the shelves, her eyes landing on a small display of plushies. “How about this one?” she said, holding up a tiny, soft bear.

Rumi crouched down to look. “That’s cute… yeah, I think she’d like that. Something small she can hold, something comforting.”

Zoey smiled, grabbing the bear. “Yeah… and it’s not too childish. It’ll just be something to make her feel safe, you know?”

Rumi nodded, her fingers brushing against Zoey’s as they walked toward the counter. “Exactly. And she needs that right now. A little normal in all this chaos.”

They paid for the plushie and headed back to the room, both of them careful to keep their voices low. As they returned, Baby and Abby gave them reassuring nods. Mira was still asleep, her chest rising and falling steadily, the soft rhythm making the hospital room feel almost calm.

Zoey gently placed the plushie on the bedside table, just within Mira’s reach. “She’ll like this,” she whispered, a small smile tugging at her lips.

Rumi sat beside the bed, taking Mira’s hand lightly in hers, fingers brushing against the soft bandages. “Yeah… she will,” she murmured.

For a moment, the three of them just sat there quietly, letting the stillness of the room settle around them—a small bubble of peace in the middle of everything Mira had been through.

The room remained quiet for a few hours. Mira slept peacefully, though her chest rose and fell with shallow breaths, evidence of the tension still lingering from the previous days. Baby and Abby sat cross-legged on the floor near the bed, quietly playing cards so as not to disturb her. Zoey lounged in one of the chairs, scrolling through her phone, half-distracted, half-watching Mira.

Rumi stayed close, sitting in the chair beside the bed. The small plush bear she had picked out rested in her lap, one hand lightly grazing Mira’s. Her fingers hovered near Mira’s side, hesitant to press too close but unwilling to pull away.

After a while, Mira’s hand twitched slightly in her sleep, and Rumi’s eyes widened in alarm. No, no, don’t start… she thought, fear gripping her chest as she leaned slightly closer. But instead of flinching or crying out, Mira’s fingers reached out, curling gently around Rumi’s arm and tugging it toward her.

Rumi froze for a heartbeat, unsure if Mira had meant it or if it was a reflex. Slowly, she let her arm fall into Mira’s grasp. Mira’s grip was soft but insistent, and even in her sleep, she seemed to be seeking comfort. Rumi’s heart softened, a quiet relief washing over her as she realized Mira wasn’t having a nightmare—she just wanted to feel safe, wanted to hold onto something familiar.

Rumi whispered softly, almost to herself, “I’m right here, Mira… you’re safe.” She rested her hand gently on top of Mira’s, keeping her close without waking her, letting her find comfort in the quiet presence.

The room returned to a soft, calm stillness, the faint hum of the hospital and the muted voices of Baby, Abby, and Zoey creating a protective bubble around Mira as she slept on.

Another hour had passed, and the late afternoon sunlight filtered softly through the hospital blinds. Mira stirred, slowly waking, her fingers still curled around Rumi’s arm. She blinked a few times, realizing where she was and quickly let go, her voice trembling.

“I-I’m sorry…” she whispered, embarrassed.

Rumi gave her a small, reassuring smile. “It’s okay, Mira. Don’t worry about it.”

Mira’s gaze then drifted to the small plush bear sitting in Rumi’s lap. Her brows furrowed slightly. “What’s that?” she asked, her voice still soft and cautious.

Rumi reached over, holding the bear out gently. “We got it for you,” she said. “Thought it might help… make things a little easier while you’re stuck here.”

Mira hesitated for a moment, her hands hovering before taking the bear. She held it close, her fingers clutching it as though testing its reality. The plush felt soft and comforting against her palms.

“Th-thank you,” she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. Her eyes softened as she looked up at Rumi, still unsure but slowly letting herself feel a small sense of safety.

Rumi smiled, brushing a stray strand of hair from Mira’s face. “You’re welcome. You’re safe here, Mira. We’ve got you.”

Mira hugged the bear to her chest, her body relaxing just slightly. For the first time in a long while, she allowed herself to believe it.

Mira sat back against the pillows, hugging the little bear close to her chest. As she did, she caught a faint scent rising from it—lavender. Her eyes softened. It smells like Rumi… The calmness that came with it was unexpected but comforting, like a gentle reminder she wasn’t alone anymore.

Her gaze drifted across the room, and she noticed Abby and Baby sprawled out on the floor. Both were fast asleep—Baby lying on his back, socked feet sticking out, and Abby curled up next to him… arms wrapped around Baby’s ankles like they were a pillow.

Mira blinked. Then blinked again.
And suddenly, she let out a tiny snort.

That snort turned into a chuckle. Then another. And before she could stop herself, she burst into a full, bright laugh—hands clutching the bear to her chest as tears formed in the corners of her eyes.

The sound startled Rumi and Zoey, who had been quietly dozing together in the chair—Zoey sitting sideways on Rumi’s lap, head on her shoulder. They both looked up, startled but smiling when they saw her.

“Mira?” Rumi blinked, a little stunned. “You’re… laughing?”

Zoey’s lips curled into a grin. “Wow, I think that’s the best sound I’ve heard all week.”

Mira tried to stop laughing, but every time she looked at the two sleeping on the floor, it came back stronger. “I—” she gasped between giggles, “look at them!”

The commotion finally stirred the floor duo. Baby blinked awake first, rubbing his eyes groggily. “What’s so funny?”

Abby mumbled, half-asleep. “What’s going on?” He shifted… and froze when he realized he was hugging something. Slowly, he looked down—straight at Baby’s socked feet cradled in his arms.

There was a beat of silence.

Zoey covered her mouth, already laughing. Rumi bit her lip, but it was no use—she started laughing too, shoulders shaking as she leaned against Zoey.

Abby’s eyes went wide. “Oh, HELL no—!” He scrambled backward so fast he nearly fell over, flailing his arms. “Why didn’t anyone wake me up sooner?!”

Baby groaned, rubbing his face. “Man, you’re the one cuddling my feet like it’s a teddy bear—don’t blame me!”

That only made everyone laugh harder. Mira was laughing so hard her sides hurt, Rumi was wiping tears from her eyes, Zoey had her face buried in Rumi’s shoulder, and even Baby cracked up seeing Abby’s horrified expression.

The room filled with the sound—bright, unrestrained, healing laughter echoing off the walls.

Rumi leaned forward between giggles, smiling softly through the joy. “You have no idea how good it is to see you laugh, Mira.”

Mira took a deep breath, wiping her eyes, still smiling. “I… I forgot what that felt like.”

Zoey squeezed Rumi’s hand, her own smile softening. “You’ll get to remember a lot of things now.”

Mira looked down at the little bear again, the lavender scent still lingering. For the first time, her smile didn’t fade.

The soft hum of machines and the dim glow from the hallway light filtered into the hospital room. The air felt calm again, the earlier laughter fading into a peaceful hush.

Baby and Abby had packed up for the night, saying their goodbyes with promises to check in tomorrow. The door clicked shut behind them, leaving only the three of them — Rumi, Zoey, and Mira — in the quiet stillness.

Rumi turned back to see Mira sitting up slightly, the little lavender-scented bear hugged against her chest, eyes half-lidded but stubbornly open. Zoey was perched at the edge of her bed, phone in hand, the two of them watching turtle videos with soft smiles.

“Look at that one,” Zoey murmured, her voice groggy but amused. “He’s just… spinning in circles.”

Mira let out a small laugh, voice weak but genuine. “He’s… so dramatic…”

Rumi chuckled softly, walking over to them. “You’re one to talk,” she teased gently, brushing a strand of hair from Mira’s face. “You need to sleep, sweetheart. Doctor said you still need rest to heal.”

Mira blinked, fighting another yawn. “I’m not… that tired.”

Rumi raised an eyebrow. “Really? You’re blinking slower than a sleepy cat.”

Zoey chuckled softly beside her. “She’s got you there, Mi.”

Mira sighed, her shoulders relaxing a little. “…Fine.”

Rumi smiled and leaned down to press a light kiss to Mira’s forehead. “Good girl. Get some sleep.”

As Mira finally lay back, clutching the bear close, Zoey’s head began to droop, her phone slipping from her hand. Rumi caught it before it hit the floor, shaking her head with a fond smile.

“Zoey, you’re next,” she whispered, moving to the chair that pulled out into a small bed. She tugged on the handle, unfolding the mattress quietly, then reached for the stack of blankets she’d asked the nurse for earlier.

When she turned back, Zoey hadn’t moved an inch. She was sitting there like a statue, eyes half-shut, mumbling something incoherent.

Rumi sighed, amused. “You’re impossible when you’re tired.”

She set the blankets down, crossed the room, and carefully slipped her arms around Zoey. “Come here, you.”

Zoey murmured something against her shoulder — something about turtles — as Rumi lifted her effortlessly.

Mira cracked one eye open, watching quietly, a tiny smile tugging at her lips. It was a simple thing — seeing Rumi carry Zoey like she was precious — but it made Mira’s chest feel warm in a way she couldn’t explain.

Rumi gently laid Zoey down on the pull-out bed, tucking the blankets around her before sliding in beside her. Zoey immediately shifted, curling instinctively against Rumi’s chest, her hand fisting lightly in Rumi’s shirt.

Rumi exhaled, brushing a hand through Zoey’s dark hair. “Sleep, love. I’ve got you.”

She turned her head slightly toward Mira’s bed. “You too, Mira. We’re right here, okay?”

Mira’s eyes were already closed, her breathing slow and steady.

The room fell into quiet — the rhythm of heart monitors blending with the soft breaths of the the woman Rumi loves, and the woman she hopes will feel love again. She stared up at the ceiling for a moment, the weight of the day easing from her shoulders. They were safe. They were healing.

And for the first time in a long time, everything felt like it might actually be okay.

Chapter Text

Starting today, chapters for this fic will slow down with posting, as I'll be working on a special Halloween👻🎃 chapter in the process over the next couple of weeks! 👻 Thank you all for your lovely comments! You guys are amazing! I can't wait to start writing this spooky chapter! It's going to be so much fun!

And don't worry your pretty little heads. There's gonna be NO angst, NO drama, and NO trauma. Just some fun spooky Halloween vibes. So you guys don't have to worry about any bricks coming y'all's way.

The chapter will be posted on Halloween Morning!

I'm also working on another fic for ZoeMiraweek2025 this coming week. So keep an eye out for that! I hope it turns out as good as this one!

I post Updates on my Twitter/X if I remember to do so lol I will be posting for future chapters/fics.

For anyone who would like to follow my Twitter/X for chapter updates for my current and future fics! ⏬

https://x.com/CursedRosePedal?t=uYJLfFTNaiA9zlTwZ_9-WQ&s=09

Chapter Text

Morning sunlight filtered softly through the blinds, warm light spilling across the small hospital room. The rhythmic beeping of Mira’s monitor was steady — calm — a quiet reminder that things, for once, were stable.

Rumi was the first to stir, gently sliding out of the pullout cot where Zoey still lay curled up in a loose blanket, her hair half in her face. She stretched, her muscles stiff, then quietly slipped out to grab two drinks from the cafeteria — a steaming coffee for herself, and a chilled apple juice for Mira.

When she came back, Mira was sitting up a little, rubbing sleep from her good eye. Her bandaged side peeked slightly from beneath the loose hospital gown, a reminder of everything that still ached.

Rumi smiled softly and handed her the juice. “Morning, sunshine. Thought you might like this more than coffee.”

Mira’s lips curved faintly. Her voice was still raspy, but softer now, less painful. “You… remembered,” she said, taking the cup slowly.

“Of course I did,” Rumi replied, dragging the chair closer to the bed. “You’re kind of hard to forget, you know.”

Before Mira could respond, a knock came at the door. The doctor entered, clipboard in hand, wearing the kind of practiced smile that carried both reassurance and authority.

“Good morning, Mira,” he greeted, setting his chart down at the foot of the bed. “How are we feeling today?”

Mira hesitated. “Better, I think. Still sore.”

“That’s expected,” he said with a nod. “I checked your charts this morning — your swelling and bruising are starting to go down nicely. No internal damage to your throat or vocal cords, which is a relief.” He looked up at her kindly. “You might feel a bit of strain when you talk for long periods, but that’ll fade.”

Rumi exhaled quietly, her shoulders dropping with visible relief.

The doctor continued, carefully pulling back the sheet to inspect the side of Mira’s abdomen. “Your gashes are healing well too. No signs of infection, which is excellent. The stitches are holding cleanly.”

Mira glanced down, flinching slightly when he pressed gently near the edge of one. “Still hurts a little,” she admitted.

“It’ll be tender for a while,” he said, straightening. “But since things are improving, I want to start getting you up and moving today. Even if it’s just a few feet every hour — down the hall, to the window, anything that gets your circulation going. The movement will help your healing and reduce stiffness.”

Rumi frowned slightly, looking at Mira’s side with concern. “You sure she’s ready? She still looks like she’s in pain.”

The doctor smiled reassuringly. “She is, but small steps will do her more good than staying in bed all day. I’ll have a nurse stop by with a walker or something to lean on if needed. Take it slow — we’re not running marathons here.”

Mira gave a quiet nod, gripping the cup of juice in her hands. “Okay,” she whispered. “I’ll try.”

Rumi reached over, gently brushing her knuckles against Mira’s hand. “You don’t have to do it alone,” she said softly. “When you’re ready, I’ll walk with you.”

From the cot, Zoey stirred, mumbling sleepily without opening her eyes, “We’ll both walk with you… just… give me five minutes…”

That earned the smallest laugh from Mira — quiet, but real — and Rumi smiled at the sound, a spark of warmth lighting her tired features.

Mira stared at her legs for what felt like a long time. They felt heavy — like they didn’t belong to her anymore. Every inch of her body ached from the effort of simply sitting upright, and now the idea of standing seemed… impossible.

But she remembered the doctor’s words.
And she remembered Rumi’s — You don’t have to do it alone.

Rumi was already beside her, hands gentle but firm as she helped Mira swing her legs over the edge of the bed. The cold floor sent a small shiver up Mira’s spine. She hesitated, gripping the edge of the mattress tightly.

“Take your time,” Rumi said quietly, voice calm and steady. “No rush.”

Mira nodded once, swallowing hard. Her chest rose and fell in slow, uneven breaths. Then, with a trembling hand, she reached for Rumi.

The moment her feet hit the floor, her knees nearly buckled. Pain flared across her side where the bandages pressed tight, and she gasped, falling slightly forward.

“Hey—hey, I’ve got you,” Rumi said quickly, catching her around the shoulders.

Mira leaned heavily against her, teeth clenched. “I… I can’t,” she whispered, shaking her head. “I’m too weak.”

“You can,” Rumi said, her tone gentle but firm. “Not all at once. Just… one step at a time.”

From behind them, Zoey’s voice came, soft and sleepy but supportive. “We’ve got you, Mira. You’re not doing this alone.”

Mira exhaled shakily, and for a moment, she almost sat back down. But then Rumi’s hand pressed lightly against her back — not forceful, just enough of a nudge to remind her.

“Come on,” Rumi murmured, smiling softly. “Stand up. You’ve already come this far.”

Mira closed her eyes, gathering what little strength she had left, and tried again. This time, her legs held — unsteady and shaking, but they held. She gripped Rumi’s arm tightly for balance, her breathing uneven.

“That’s it,” Rumi whispered, her smile widening. “You’re doing it.”

A shaky laugh left Mira’s throat. “Barely.”

“Barely counts,” Zoey said, standing and rubbing her eyes, joining them on Mira’s other side. “We’ll start small. Just a few steps.”

Rumi nodded. “Yeah. Just to the window and back.”

Mira’s fingers tightened on their arms as they guided her forward. Her first step was wobbly — her legs trembled and her balance nearly gave out — but Rumi steadied her, Zoey’s hand firm on her elbow. Slowly, carefully, they moved together.

The sunlight from the window hit Mira’s face as they reached it. It was warm — gentle — and for the first time in what felt like forever, Mira smiled.

She was standing.
She was walking.
And she wasn’t alone.

Mira sank back onto the edge of the bed, legs still trembling from the effort. She clutched Rumi’s arm like a lifeline, and Rumi lowered herself to sit beside her, still holding her steady. Zoey leaned in from the other side, offering a soft, encouraging smile.

“I… I didn’t think I could do it,” Mira admitted, voice small, almost broken. “Every step felt like… like I’d fall apart.”

Rumi reached out, brushing a strand of damp hair from Mira’s face. “I know. It’s scary,” she murmured. “But look at you — you did it. You walked.”

Mira let out a shaky laugh, still clinging to Rumi. “I thought… I thought I’d be weak forever. I thought my body would never listen to me again.”

“And it will,” Rumi said softly. “In time. But you’ve already started. That’s what matters. You took the first steps — literally. That’s huge.”

Zoey placed a hand on Mira’s shoulder, squeezing gently. “You’re stronger than you think. And we’re not going anywhere. We’ll be right here with you, every step of the way.”

Mira’s hands trembled as she relaxed slightly, leaning against both Rumi and Zoey. “I… I’m scared,” she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper.

“I know,” Rumi said, stroking her back gently. “It’s okay to be scared. But you’re safe here. No one’s going to hurt you. Not ever again.”

With Rumi’s help, Mira slowly slid back onto the bed, pulling the blankets around her. Zoey tucked her arm around Mira’s shoulder, while Rumi rested a hand lightly on her arm.

Mira let out a long, shaky breath, her body sinking into the warmth of the bed. “Thank you,” she whispered, eyes closing for a brief moment. “I… I really needed this.”

Rumi smiled softly, brushing Mira’s hair back. “And you’ll keep getting it. We’ll get through this together.”

Zoey nodded, pressing a gentle kiss to Mira’s temple. “Yeah. Step by step, Mira. One day at a time.”

Mira finally let herself relax, her small flinches from fear softening. She felt a warmth and safety she hadn’t felt in years. For the first time in a long while, she allowed herself to believe she might actually be okay.

The smell of breakfast filled the hospital room as Abby and Baby came back, trays in hand. Mira poked at her food quietly, trying not to make a sound, still feeling fragile from the night before.

“C’mon, Mira,” Baby said, grinning, “you’re eating like a cat sniffing a tuna can.”

Mira let out a tiny snort, trying to hold back a laugh. Zoey, leaning back in her chair, raised an eyebrow. “A cat? Really?”

Abby chuckled, “Hey, he’s not wrong. You should see her earlier — barely touched a bite.”

Mira shook her head, laughing outright this time despite herself. “Shut up, you two,” she muttered, a grin breaking through. “I’m trying to survive here.”

Rumi, watching her carefully from the edge of the bed, smiled softly. “All right,” she said once Mira had finished enough to regain some strength. “Time to try walking again. You ready?”

Mira hesitated, gripping the blanket around her. “I… I think so,” she whispered, uncertainty flickering in her eyes.

Abby stood, nodding. “I can help,” he offered gently. “I’m strong, but I’ll be careful. No surprises.”

Rumi watched, standing close, her hand ready to support if needed. Mira took a deep breath and tried to stand, holding onto Abby’s arm.

At first, it seemed to go smoothly. She took a few tentative steps, wobbling slightly, but then — instinct kicked in. Abby’s hand accidentally brushed against her side, right over the gashes. Pain shot through her body like a lightning strike.

“No! No, no!” Mira screamed, jerking away from him. She shoved Abby back hard, her legs giving out, and collapsed to the floor in a heap. She skittered backward, knees curled up, hands flailing in front of her, shielding herself.

Rumi and Zoey sprang from their chairs in unison. “Mira!” Rumi called, dropping to the floor beside her.

“R-Rumi… stay back!” Mira shrieked, tears welling in her eyes. Her voice cracked, her body shaking. “Don’t… don’t touch me!”

Rumi didn’t move back. She gently wrapped an arm around Mira’s shoulders, careful not to touch the sides. “Shhh, it’s me, Mira,” she murmured. “It’s Rumi. You’re safe. I’m not Juno, I promise.”

Zoey knelt on the other side, holding Mira’s hand. “Yeah, hey, we’re right here. No one’s going to hurt you,” she said softly.

Mira’s trembling slowed slightly, though she flinched every time Rumi’s arm came close. “I… I thought it was her,” she whispered, voice ragged. “I… I can’t—”

“You’re okay,” Rumi soothed, stroking Mira’s hair back from her face. “You’re safe. Nobody’s digging into you now. You’re not alone, Mira. We’re not going anywhere.”

Baby cleared his throat, awkwardly from behind them. “I… I’ll, uh… stay right here, promise I won’t touch anything,” he said sheepishly.

Abby muttered, rubbing his neck, “Yeah, yeah, Mira’s right. You’re terrifying when you panic. I’m staying put.”

Mira let out a shaky laugh despite herself, hiding her face against Rumi’s chest. “You guys… are impossible,” she muttered through tears.

Rumi whispered against her hair, “Yeah, but we’re yours. We’re staying with you, every step. You can relax, Mira. Just breathe.”

Zoey added, softly, “One step at a time. That’s all we’re asking.”

Mira slowly nodded, curling tighter into Rumi, letting herself feel the safety she hadn’t felt in years. Even with the flinches and the fear, a small part of her realized: maybe this time, she really could start healing.

Mira’s breathing was still uneven, shaky as she clung to Rumi’s shirt. Every time she inhaled too deep, her chest hitched with a soft whimper. Rumi didn’t move, just held her as gently as she could, keeping her voice low and steady.

“There you go,” Rumi whispered, brushing a thumb over Mira’s hairline. “Breathe in… and out. Nice and slow.”

Zoey stayed close, rubbing Mira’s arm lightly. “You did nothing wrong, Mira. It was just a slip. Abby didn’t mean to.”

Abby nodded quickly, guilt written all over his face. “Yeah, I’m sorry. I didn’t realize I grabbed too low. I swear I didn’t—”

Rumi shot him a look — not angry, just firm. “It’s fine. She knows.”

Mira nodded faintly, still curled up but a little calmer now. “I… I know,” she whispered. Her voice was raw, trembling. “I just… saw her face again. It felt like… like it was happening all over.”

Rumi’s heart clenched. “Hey. That’s what trauma does,” she said softly. “Your body remembers before your mind does. But you’re safe now, Mira. Look at me.”

Mira hesitated before lifting her eyes — one swollen, one clear — and met Rumi’s gaze. That steady calm, those mismatched eyes of warmth and quiet strength, anchored her like nothing else could.

Zoey smiled faintly from beside them. “See? No scary exes here. Just two hot messes who make terrible coffee and want to see you walk again.”

That earned a weak chuckle from Mira, her lips twitching. “You really are a disaster, you know that?” she murmured, voice hoarse but soft.

Zoey leaned back with a dramatic sigh. “She’s catching on, Ru. We’re doomed.”

Rumi smirked. “At least she’s laughing again.”

Mira’s gaze flicked between them — their warmth, their ease. Something inside her loosened just a little more.

After a long moment, Rumi asked gently, “Think you can try again? Just standing. No pressure to walk this time.”

Mira swallowed, her throat still tender. “I… I can try.”

Rumi and Zoey both moved to help, slow and deliberate. Zoey stood on Mira’s left, Rumi on her right, careful not to touch her sides. They helped her up gradually, letting her weight shift bit by bit until she was on her feet again.

Her legs trembled, and she immediately clutched Rumi’s arm for support. Her grip was tight — too tight — but Rumi didn’t flinch. She just stayed steady.

“That’s it,” Rumi murmured, her voice steady and low. “You’re standing. That’s all you have to do right now.”

Mira wobbled slightly. “I feel… like a baby deer.”

Zoey grinned. “A really cute baby deer. With an attitude.”

That drew another soft laugh from Mira, fragile but real. “You guys are ridiculous.”

“Yeah,” Rumi said, smiling faintly, “but we’re good at it.”

They stood like that for a minute — Mira trembling but upright, Rumi steady at her side, Zoey close enough to catch her if she faltered. Then, slowly, Mira eased herself back down onto the bed.

When she sat, she exhaled a shaky breath, hands gripping the blanket like it was the only solid thing in the world.

Rumi crouched in front of her, her voice gentle. “You did good. Better than yesterday.”

Mira’s lip trembled. “I didn’t even walk.”

Rumi shook her head. “You stood. You faced what scared you. That’s what matters.”

Zoey added softly, “Healing isn’t a sprint, Mira. It’s one breath at a time. You’re doing it.”

Mira blinked, eyes misting again. But this time, it wasn’t from fear — it was from something deeper. Something like relief. She hugged the little lavender-scented bear to her chest, whispering, “Thank you. Both of you.”

Rumi brushed her hair back gently. “Always.”

The afternoon light had mellowed into a soft gold that filtered through the hospital blinds. The room was quiet except for the soft hum of the air conditioning and the faint sound of traffic outside. Rumi sat at Mira’s bedside, absently scrolling through her phone, while Zoey leaned against the windowsill sipping from a paper cup.

Mira stirred first, blinking slowly as she sat up. “How long was I asleep?” she rasped.

Rumi looked up, smiling faintly. “Couple hours. Guess your body needed it.”

Zoey chimed in, “We didn’t wanna wake you. You looked… peaceful for once.”

Mira huffed softly, rubbing her eyes. “That’s rare, huh?”

Rumi tilted her head. “Maybe not for long.” She stood, stretching. “You wanna try standing again? Doctor said you should do a few steps if you can.”

Mira hesitated, fingers twisting in the blanket. “Yeah… I’ll try.”

Rumi gave a nod and stepped closer, her voice calm. “Alright. We’ll take it slow. I’ve got you.”

Zoey set down her cup and joined on Mira’s other side. “You fall, we fall. Deal?”

Mira managed a small smirk. “That doesn’t sound very comforting.”

“Yeah, well,” Zoey grinned, “we’re not great with logic. Just loyalty.”

That made Mira’s chest warm. She drew in a deep breath, braced her hands on the mattress, and pushed herself upright. Her legs wobbled immediately, but Rumi’s hand came to her back — light, steady — and Zoey’s arm hovered near her elbow, close enough to help without crowding her.

“That’s it,” Rumi murmured. “You’re doing good.”

Mira took a step. Then another. The floor felt strange beneath her bare feet, like it was swaying slightly, but she kept going. By the fourth step, her legs trembled, but she didn’t sit back down yet.

“Look at you,” Zoey said softly, pride creeping into her tone. “You’re walking.”

“I… yeah,” Mira said, breath uneven but smiling through it. “It’s not far, but it’s something.”

“It’s more than something,” Rumi said. “It’s progress.”

Mira turned her head to look at her — really look — and for a brief second, she wasn’t afraid of the closeness. The intensity in Rumi’s mismatched eyes wasn’t intimidating anymore; it was grounding. Safe.

When her legs finally started to give, Rumi caught her before she could stumble. Their bodies were close for a second — Mira’s forehead brushing Rumi’s shoulder — and instinctively, she flinched. Just a small twitch, but enough for Rumi to notice.

Rumi didn’t move away. She just said quietly, “It’s okay. You’re safe.”

Mira’s breathing steadied again, and she whispered, “Sorry.”

“Don’t apologize,” Rumi said. “You’re doing amazing.”

Zoey smiled from a few steps away, watching them with a soft expression. “She’s right, y’know. You’re a fighter, Mira. I don’t think you even realize how strong you are yet.”

Mira’s eyes flicked between them both — the genuine pride in their faces, the warmth in their voices — and something deep inside her started to untangle.

For the first time in a long time, she let herself believe them.

She took one last step back to the bed, easing herself down carefully. “Okay,” she breathed, half laughing, half crying. “I did it.”

Rumi crouched next to her again, that same soft smile tugging at her lips. “Yeah, you did. Shadow Wolf would be proud.”

Zoey laughed. “She’s definitely got the spirit of one.”

Mira chuckled, hugging the little lavender-scented bear to her chest. “I don’t know about a wolf… maybe just a stray pup learning to walk again.”

Rumi brushed a lock of hair from her face. “Hey. Every wolf starts as one.”

Mira’s smile lingered — small, but real — as she leaned back against the pillows, exhaustion tugging at her again. But this time, when she drifted off, she wasn’t clutching the bear for safety… she was just holding it out of comfort.

And Rumi and Zoey stayed close, quietly watching over her.

The morning light spilled through the blinds, soft and hazy — the kind of light that made the sterile white of the hospital room feel almost gentle. Mira blinked awake slowly, the hum of the machines and quiet shuffle of nurses in the hallway grounding her in the fact that she was still here — still alive.

Rumi was already sitting by her bedside, coffee in hand, her vest draped over the chair next to her. Zoey sat curled up on the couch under a thin hospital blanket, still half-asleep, hair sticking out in every direction.

The doctor came in a few minutes later, clipboard in hand, smiling when he saw Mira awake. “Morning, Mira. You’re looking much better today.”

She gave him a faint smile, voice still a little hoarse. “Feeling… kinda better.”

“That’s what we like to hear,” he said. “I checked your labs — everything’s looking good. The bruising is healing nicely, and the gashes are closing up without any signs of infection. If things keep progressing like this, you’ll be ready to go home by tomorrow evening.”

Mira’s head tilted slightly. “Tomorrow?”

Rumi straightened in her seat, eyes flicking toward Zoey, who had now perked up at that word. “That soon?”

The doctor nodded. “If she continues walking a little each hour and keeps her food down, yes. But she’ll need help for a while — no lifting, no strain, and plenty of rest.”

“Got it,” Rumi said, nodding seriously. “We’ll make sure of it.”

When the doctor left, the room fell quiet again — until Zoey stood, stretching. “Alright, so we should probably tell her now.”

Mira blinked between them. “Tell me what?”

Rumi leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees. “You’re not going back to your apartment.”

Mira frowned. “What? But—”

Zoey cut her off gently, voice firm but caring. “No buts. Juno’s still out there, and we’re not taking chances. You’re staying with us.”

“I don’t want to be a burden,” Mira said quietly, eyes dropping to her lap.

Rumi shook her head immediately. “You’re not. We’ve got a second bedroom — it’s usually for guests, but it’s yours now. You can make it your space. You’ll be safe there.”

That word — safe — made something in Mira’s chest twist. It was something she hadn’t truly felt in… years. She swallowed hard, blinking fast. “You really mean that?”

Zoey smiled softly. “You think we’d let you go back to that hellhole? Not a chance.”

Mira gave a shaky laugh, but her expression faltered when Zoey added, “Though it’s weird… it’s been almost a week, and she hasn’t tried to contact you at all.”

At that, Mira froze. Her hands fidgeted in her lap, then went still. “She couldn’t,” she murmured, voice trembling slightly. “I… didn’t grab my phone when I left. I didn’t even think about it.”

Rumi frowned. “You didn’t?”

Mira shook her head. “No. She—” She hesitated, breath catching. “She smashed it. When she saw your name in my contacts.”

Zoey’s jaw tightened. “Of course she did.”

Rumi reached over, covering Mira’s hand with her own. “Hey, it doesn’t matter. We’ll get you a new one.”

“You don’t have to—”

Rumi cut her off gently. “We want to. You’ll even be on our plan, so if you ever need to reach us — or anyone — you can.”

Zoey smirked softly. “Yeah, can’t have you going off the grid again. You’re stuck with us now.”

That earned a tiny, real laugh from Mira. “You two really don’t take no for an answer, huh?”

Rumi smiled. “Not when it comes to people we care about.”

Mira stared at her for a long second — the sincerity in Rumi’s voice, the warmth in Zoey’s grin — and she felt her eyes sting. She wiped them quickly with the back of her hand. “Okay,” she whispered, voice thick. “I’ll stay.”

Zoey beamed. “Good. Because we were gonna drag you home either way.”

That made Mira laugh again — soft, fragile, but honest — and for the first time, it didn’t hurt to.

Rumi leaned back, watching her, a gentle smile playing on her lips. “You’ve got a new home waiting for you, Mira. One where no one’s gonna hurt you again.”

Mira looked down at her hands, clutching the little lavender-scented bear to her chest. “Yeah,” she said quietly, a small smile forming. “Home.”

And for once… it actually sounded right.

The day stretched quietly but steadily forward. Mira did exactly as the doctor told her — walking every hour, no matter how much it made her legs tremble or how sore her body felt after.

At first, she could only take a few steps before her knees threatened to buckle, Rumi or Abby always close by to catch her. But each time, she pushed herself to go just one step further.

By the second round, she was making it halfway across the room with Rumi holding her elbow, Zoey cheering softly from the chair like a proud coach.

By the third, she was walking to the window on her own.

Rumi was smiling the whole time, quietly impressed. “You’re getting steadier already,” she said as Mira stood by the window, her hand resting on the sill for balance.

Mira glanced down at the street below. “Feels weird,” she said softly. “Standing this long. Walking this much. I didn’t think I’d… be able to.”

Zoey stretched out in her chair. “You’re tougher than you think, M.”

Mira looked over her shoulder at her, one eyebrow slightly raised. “You really think so?”

Zoey grinned. “Oh, totally. If I went through half of what you did, I’d still be in bed demanding juice boxes and sympathy.”

Rumi snorted at that. “You already do that when you have a cold.”

“Hey!” Zoey protested, pointing at her. “Colds are brutal, okay?”

That made Mira laugh — a soft, genuine sound that filled the small room. Even Abby, who had been pretending to read his phone, smiled.

“See?” Zoey said, leaning back. “Look at that. Laughing and walking. Doctor’s gonna have no excuse not to let you out tomorrow.”

Mira shook her head, still smiling faintly. “You guys make it hard not to laugh.”

Rumi walked over, quietly stepping up behind her. Mira felt her before she saw her — the soft warmth of Rumi’s presence, then careful arms sliding around her shoulders, avoiding her right side where the bandages still wrapped tight.

Mira flinched at the first touch, her body tensing for just a moment — instinct — but then she breathed out and relaxed into it.

Rumi’s voice was quiet, warm near her ear. “We’re proud of you, Mira. You’re doing amazing.”

Mira’s eyes softened. She didn’t look back — she didn’t need to. Just nodded faintly. “Thanks,” she whispered.

Zoey came over too, leaning against the other side of the window, her tone teasing but affectionate. “Yeah, don’t tell Rumi I said this, but she’s right.”

Rumi shot her a look over Mira’s shoulder. “You literally just told me.”

“Yeah, well,” Zoey smirked, “I’m bad at secrets.”

Mira laughed again — this time, a little stronger — and the sound made both of them smile wider.

Later that afternoon, during her fifth round of walking, she managed to make a full circle around the room and back to her bed. Her legs burned, but the pride in Rumi’s voice — and the small, disbelieving smile on Zoey’s face — made it worth every ache.

“Look at you,” Rumi said softly. “You’re almost ready to run a marathon.”

Mira rolled her eyes with a tired grin. “Let’s not get carried away.”

“Fine,” Zoey said. “Half marathon.”

Abby, without looking up from his phone, added, “Quarter.”

“Eighth,” Mira countered immediately, and everyone laughed again.

By the time night came, Mira could stand for nearly a full minute without help. Rumi watched her take those last few steps before bed — small, cautious, but strong.

When Mira sat down, breathing a little heavy but smiling, Rumi said quietly, “You’re really doing it, Mira. You’re coming back to yourself.”

Mira met her eyes for a long moment. “Feels like it,” she said softly. “For the first time in a while.”

Zoey nudged her gently with a grin. “Just wait till we get home. You’ll have us both fussing over you so much, you’ll be begging to go back to the hospital.”

Mira laughed again, shaking her head. “Yeah, somehow I doubt that.”

But when she laid back in bed, the soft warmth of their laughter still hanging in the air, she thought — for the first time in a long, long time — maybe she really was going to be okay.

Morning sunlight crept through the thin hospital curtains, painting soft gold across the room. The first to stir was Rumi. Her arm was draped over Zoey, who was curled up on the narrow pull-out beside her, half tangled in the blanket.

Rumi smiled faintly, brushing a stray strand of hair from Zoey’s face before leaning in to press a gentle kiss on her nose.

Zoey scrunched it up immediately, murmuring something incoherent.

Rumi bit back a quiet laugh and kissed her cheek next.

Zoey grumbled again, voice muffled. “You’re lucky you’re cute…”

Rumi smirked. “Mm-hm. That’s why you’re still pretending to sleep?”

One eye cracked open, bleary and unamused, and Zoey leaned forward to meet Rumi’s lips with a lazy, half-asleep kiss. “There. Happy now?” she mumbled.

“Very,” Rumi murmured against her lips before pulling back with a grin.

Across the room, Abby and Baby were sprawled on the floor again — this time on opposite ends of the room. Abby had a pillow tucked under his head and Baby was snoring softly, one arm flung over his face. Neither seemed aware of the faint laughter drifting from the girls’ side of the room.

Rumi stretched, rolling her shoulders until they popped. “I’m gonna run home for a bit,” she said quietly. “Grab some clothes for Mira for when she gets discharged tonight. I don’t want her wearing that hospital gown all the way home.”

Zoey blinked, still waking up, and rubbed her eyes. “You want me to stay here?”

Rumi nodded, glancing toward Mira’s bed. “Yeah. Just in case she wakes up while I’m gone. I don’t want her to be alone.”

“Yeah,” Zoey said, yawning as she sat up. “Got it. I’ll keep her company.”

Rumi leaned over, brushing her fingers along Zoey’s jaw and giving her one last soft kiss before she stood. “You’re the best.”

Zoey’s lips curved into a sleepy smile. “I know. Now go before I make you crawl back in here.”

Rumi laughed quietly and shook her head, pulling on her jacket. “Tempting, but I’ll pass this time.”

With that, she slipped quietly from the room, the door clicking softly behind her.

Zoey sighed, falling back onto the thin mattress and staring up at the ceiling. The room was calm, peaceful even — the soft beeping of Mira’s monitor and the faint snore from Baby the only sounds left.

“Guess it’s just us for a bit, huh?” she murmured, glancing toward Mira’s sleeping form. “Hang in there, M. You’re almost home.”

Rumi’s and Zoey’s apartment was still when she stepped through the door — the kind of soft morning quiet that made the space feel almost sacred. She closed the door behind her gently, glancing toward their shared bedroom. The bed was a little messy, the blanket half-pulled down from where they’d both slept tangled together the night before, Zoey’s hoodie still draped over the chair by the window.

A faint smile tugged at Rumi’s lips. She set her keys on the counter and took a slow breath before getting to work.

She grabbed a duffel bag from the closet and started filling it — soft joggers, a hoodie, socks, and a few essentials for Mira. Then she turned toward their dresser, opening the drawer that Zoey always claimed as hers. It was a familiar sight: half-folded shirts, a couple of mismatched socks, and a small bundle of flannel that smelled faintly like her shampoo. Rumi picked out a change of clothes for Zoey — a cropped tee, her favorite red-and-black flannel, and a pair of jeans that she knew Zoey loved.

Once that was done, Rumi turned to her own side of the closet. Hanging on the back of the door was the outfit she’d been saving for a while — her new look.

She stripped out of her old clothes, pulling on the dark mesh long-sleeve first. The fabric clung lightly to her arms, cool and comfortable. Over that, she tugged on the charcoal gray band tee, the faded lettering from her favorite indie metal group almost blending into the fabric.

Next came the accessories — her silver chain necklaces, layered just enough to catch the light when she moved. One had a small wolf pendant that she’d picked up from a street vendor last week, something about it reminding her of strength and loyalty.

Her black high-waisted jeans fit snugly, hugging her hips and tapering down to her scuffed combat boots. She laced them tight, the sound of the leather and metal eyelets grounding her. Her belt, lined with silver grommets, cinched everything together; the little carabiner and turtle charm Zoey had given her jingled softly when she clipped them on.

She swapped out her usual simple earrings for her asymmetrical ones — a small hoop on one side, a dangling chain on the other. A few silver rings gleamed across her fingers, the wolf-head ring catching the dim light.

Finally, she reached for her favorite leather jacket. The smell of it — a mix of rain, old bar smoke, and faint cologne — made her feel like herself again. The worn creases moved easily with her as she slipped it on.

She caught her reflection in the mirror — dark, steady, powerful. The kind of look that said she could take on anything, but still had a softness just under the surface.

Rumi gave herself a small nod, grabbed the duffel with both her and Zoey’s clothes, and turned toward the door.

“Let’s bring her something that feels like home,” she murmured to herself before locking up and heading back to the hospital.

Rumi slid into the driver’s seat of their car, the duffel bag resting on the passenger seat. The city hummed quietly around her as she drove, the late afternoon sunlight glinting off the leather of her jacket. Her hands tightened slightly on the wheel, anticipation building with each block they passed. She hadn’t told anyone about her new look — not Zoey, not Baby, not Abby. The surprise would be worth it.

The ride felt longer than it was, every stoplight making her pulse quicken. Her mind wandered over how Zoey would react. Would Mira notice the subtle changes? Would Baby crack one of his teasing jokes? Could Abby keep his cool and not gush like he usually did when Rumi pulled off a new look?

Finally, the hospital came into view. Rumi parked, grabbed the duffel, and strode into the building, leather boots clacking lightly against the linoleum floors.

When she pushed open Mira’s hospital room door, Zoey’s head was leaning against the bed, scrolling through her phone, Mira resting under the covers, Baby perched on the floor with his back against the wall, and Abby leaning against a chair, quietly sipping her coffee.

Rumi stepped inside, letting her jacket shift just so, and the soft click of her boots drew their attention. Zoey’s eyes widened, a giggle escaping her lips before she could stop herself. Her cheeks flushed pink as she took in the dark mesh sleeves, the faded band tee, the silver chains, and the scuffed combat boots.

“Holy—Rumi,” Zoey whispered, almost breathless. Her giggles turned into soft, happy laughter. “You look…so hot.”

Rumi grinned, setting the duffel bag down beside her. Zoey didn’t hesitate, hopping up to press a quick, excited kiss to Rumi’s lips, making Rumi chuckle lightly.

Mira’s head lifted slightly from the pillow, eyes darting away instinctively, a faint pink tinting her cheeks. She wasn’t sure why she felt that way — maybe embarrassment, maybe admiration. Either way, she looked away, still holding the little plushie Rumi had brought earlier.

Baby chuckled softly from the floor. “Well, that’s…a look,” he said, smirking. “I’d say it suits you better than the…uh…other version.”

Abby laughed quietly, nodding in agreement. “Yeah, honestly? This fits you, Rumi. Looks natural.”

Rumi smirked, letting the praise settle over her. “Thanks,” she said simply, brushing her hair back from her face. “Now, we’ve got a job to do — making sure Mira’s comfy and fed.”

After a short moment, Mira pushed herself up, still a bit wobbly but determined. “I…think I can try walking to the restroom,” she said quietly, gripping the side of the bed for support.

Zoey was right there beside her, guiding her carefully but letting Mira do the work herself. “You’ve got this,” she encouraged softly. “One step at a time.”

Mira took a deep breath and slowly moved toward the restroom, steadier with each step. Rumi watched from a small distance, hands on her hips, proud of her progress.

Zoey, however, couldn’t stop sneaking glances at Rumi, her hands brushing absently against her leather jacket or reaching up to fix a stray strand of hair. It wasn’t anything overt, just admiration — the kind that made Rumi smirk knowingly.

Abby chuckled quietly at the scene, sipping his coffee, while Baby just shook his head with a small grin. “Man, you two are something else,” he muttered, genuinely amused.

Mira, eyes focused on the floor and her path, felt a quiet warmth in her chest as she noticed the small gestures — the pride in Rumi’s stance, the soft, constant support from Zoey. For the first time in days, she felt safe, and even a little bit like she belonged.

Mira sat on the edge of the hospital bed, the afternoon sunlight casting soft stripes across her face. The fresh clothes Rumi had brought — a loose hoodie and comfy joggers — felt comforting against her skin, a small anchor in a day full of nerves. Zoey sat beside her for a moment, brushing back a stray strand of Mira’s hair.

“You’re going to be okay,” Zoey said softly, her hand resting lightly on Mira’s arm. “We’ll make sure of it. No one’s touching you but us.”

Mira nodded, still uneasy. “I… I just… what if she’s waiting? What if Juno tries something?” Her voice was low, almost a whisper, trembling with lingering fear.

Rumi stepped closer, sliding her hand over Mira’s shoulder. “If Juno shows up, she answers to me,” Rumi said firmly, eyes meeting Mira’s. “I promise. You’re not going back there. You’re safe with us. And I’m not letting anyone hurt you again.”

Mira let out a shaky breath, leaning slightly into Rumi’s hand. “I… I know. It’s just hard to… think about leaving this place, you know?”

“I get it,” Rumi replied, voice gentle. “But you’re stronger than you think, Mira. And you’re not alone. Zoey and I — we’ve got you. Always.”

Just then, the doctor walked in, clipboard in hand, smiling at Mira. “Good afternoon, Mira. I wanted to do a final check before you head home. Your bruising is healing well, and the gashes are holding. No signs of infection. You’re cleared to go this evening.”

Mira’s stomach knotted at the thought. “Okay…” she murmured.

The doctor nodded. “I’m sending a nurse in to change your bandages one last time before you leave. They got a little damp from the shower, so we’ll make sure everything’s clean and protected.”

As the nurse came in and carefully tended to the stitches on Mira’s side, Mira’s mind raced. She looked over at Rumi, her eyes wide with unease. “I… I’m really going to Rumi and Zoey’s place,” she admitted. “Not my apartment.”

Rumi gave her a small, reassuring smile. “Exactly. Your apartment isn’t your home right now. You have a safe place with us. And Mira…” She leaned closer, voice soft but firm, “if Juno tries anything, she’s going to answer to me. You don’t have to worry about a thing.”

Mira’s hand found Rumi’s, gripping it gently. “Thank you… for everything.”

“You don’t have to thank me,” Rumi said, giving her hand a reassuring squeeze. “Just focus on getting better. We’ll handle the rest.”

Mira finally let herself relax a fraction, the fear still lingering but softened by the presence of Rumi and Zoey. She realized for the first time in a long time that she had people she could trust — people who would stand between her and danger. And for now, that was enough.

Chapter Text

The smell of takeout was in the air, filling the room with its aroma. They were joking about how Baby snorted while laughing while eating noodles, and a noodle came out of his nose.

"Hey, that shit hurt, okay, and it was your fault, Zoey!" he exclaimed, pointing a finger at her.

"WHAT?! Why are you blaming me???" she gasped in mock offense, placing her hand over her chest in a dramatic way.

Abby nudged her arm a little. "Yeah, remember when he was struggling with his chopsticks, like he'd never used them before. You said, and I quote 'You sure you're not trying to knit a sweater with those noodles?'"

Zoey snorted at the memory. "Oh yeah! I totally forgot about that."

Mira snickered at the banter around her. Smiling slightly, she took a bit of her own food.

She can't wait for this to be her forever. She took a bite of a dumpling, juice squirting out right at Rumi who was sitting in front of her on the bed. It landed on her cheek. She sat with her eyes closed for a few seconds.

Oh no… Mira thought. "I-I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to! It was an accident!" She started backing away, or at least tried to, but her back hit the pillows behind her.

Rumi opened her eyes, glaring at Mira. Mira swallowed hard. But then Rumi's eye softened and she smiled and then started laughing. "I'm sorry, Mira, I didn't mean to scare you, it just surprised me, is all."

Mira relaxed a small hesitant smile crept on her face, and slowly got bigger. She chuckled as the others started laughing too.

Zoey used a napkin to wipe Rumi's face off, smiling the entire time.

Mira didn't realize she was still scrunched up into herself until Rumi placed her hand on her shin under the tray table.

"It's okay, Mira. You can relax more. You're safe. I really didn't mean to scare you." She gave her a comforting smile. "I will never EVER hurt you, you know that right?"

Mira relaxed fully, lowering back on the hospital mattress. "Yeah, I-I know. I'm sorry…" she gave a small smile.

There was silence for a few minutes, then there was a soft knock on the door. Zoey jumped up first. "I got it." She said as she walked to the door opening it only to be greeted with a tall gruff older man in biker gear, and a slightly shorter man next to her, clearly younger.

Zoey looked up at the mans face. "Reggie!? Eli!?"

That caused Rumi quickly lifted her head and looked toward the door. "Wait, Reggie?"

Reggie waved at Rumi. "Hey kid!" Eli stood behind him on guard. Rumi stiffened a little. She didn't like how he was holding himself, like something was wrong.

Zoey didn't notice of course. "Oh my god, what are you two doing her?" she gave him a hug, looking like a little kid hugging a bear.

Mira was staring at him,. her eyes locked onto him. Seeing him properly for the first time. she didn't really know him, or his name, but she did remember small flashed of his face during that night through the chaos, when she was barely hanging onto her life. He seen the looking and turned his attention to her fully.

"Uh… right. Sorry for how I look kid," Reggie said as he rubbed the back of his neck and awkward smile across his face now. "We haven't really properly met.

Mira blinked, once, twice. "No, it's okay. I just hadn't seen you since that night is all. I only remember your face in pieces. never knew your name."

Reggie chuckled slightly. "Yeah, that wasn't really the right evironment for greetings, but lets fix that. Hi, I'm Reggie. It's nice to finally meet you, properly this time."\

Mira looked to Rumi for a moment, Rumi giving her a small nod. "M-Mira, nice to meet you too." she said with a small smile.

The air in the room felt softer somehow. Baby gave an approving nod accompanied by a small smile.

Then Rumi spoke, breaking the silence. "So, uh… not that we don't appreciate the visit, but… why are you here, Reggie?"

Reggie's smile faded, he had his serious face on now, mixed with concern. "That's actually why we're here. wanted to warn you guys." His tone was stern.

Zeoy looked at him, confused. "Warn us? For what?"

Reggies jaw tightened. "I saw Juno nearby. I think she might've been hanging around the hospital. Hiding maybe? Not to be seen I supposed."

The softness that was in the air moments ago, was not stale with dead silence.

Rumi’s stomach dropped. Of all days… today? she thought, her pulse starting to race. Mira had just been cleared to leave — this was supposed to be the turning point.

Mira lost all color in her face, even the pink in her cheeks from the laughter from just minutes before, was gone. "She's… She's here?" She choked on a sharp breathe. Her hands started trembling in fear.

Rumi looked at Mira. "No, hey… It's okay." She reached for Mira's hand, giving it a slight squeeze. "If she tries anything, I'll be there to protect you. No way is she going to hurt you again." Rumi pulled her into a small embrace, Mira hesitated at first, but then she relaxed into it a little.

Zoey came over to Mira too. "Hey, look at me Mira." she said it so softly, almost a whispered. "You've got us here to keep you safe okay? Nothing will happen as long as we're around."

Abby couldn't help but to say something snarky. "Yeah, like you could do anything. You cant even bench press 30 lbs more than 3 reps." he said with a smirk.

Zoey shot him a look. "Not the time, muscle man." her voice was cold and flat. Mira could't help but smile and chuckle a little at Abbys comment. "He-Hey, don't laugh at that… this is supposed to be a serious moment." Zoey couldn't help but smile at Mira who was smiling through the fear. Her eyes were soft again. "You are something aren't you, Mir?"

Mira only shrugged in mock guilt. But the smile faded and Mira looked up at Rumi. "How do we leave with her around." she said it so softly in her small husky voice.

Reggie, stepped a little closer. "I'll have Eli do a perimeter check making sure she isn't around." He nodded to Eli, who was already moving. "we'll give the all clear when its time for you to leave."

Rumi looked at him, face calm, but fierce. "If she does come close while we're leaving, she's mine. No one touches her but me." She squeezed Miras's shoulder gently. " I'll protect you with my soul, Mira."

Later that evening, when it was finally time to check Mira out, they were cautious. No word from Eli or the other bikers about Juno's presence near the hospital. So far the coast was clear.

Mira was given a prescription for any pain or swelling during her recovery at home, and new bandages, still in the packaging to put on new ones when needed.

She put everything in the bag she was given. She held onto the little stuffed bear that Zoey and Rumi bought for her at the gift shop the other night.

The hospital doors slid open with a pneumatic sigh, releasing Mira into the twilight parking lot clutching her stuffed bear like a shield.

Rumi’s arm remained locked around her shoulders, a solid barrier against the world, while Zoey wrestled the duffel bag toward the waiting car with determined strides.

Baby and Abby trailed behind, their playful shoving over shotgun rights fading into tense silence as Eli’s distant nod confirmed the perimeter was clear—though Rumi’s gaze never stopped scanning the shadows pooling between vehicles.

Zoey reached the car first, popping the trunk with Rumi’s tossed keys. The duffel landed inside with a hollow thud, the trunk slamming shut just as Baby hip-checked Abby into the rear door.

"Shotgun’s mine, muscle-head," Baby grunted, but Abby’s retort died mid-syllable.

Rumi was smiling, but felt a tug at her arm around Mira, who was being dragged away from her faster than she could process.

A choked gasp tore through the air—Mira’s bear tumbled from her grasp as Juno materialized from behind a van, one hand already clamped around Mira’s throat, the other wrenching her backward.

Time fractured, slowing down, Rumi whirled, hair slicing the air, and the raw terror in Mira’s wide, streaming eyes hit her like a physical blow.

"R-Rumi—!" Mira’s plea strangled into silence beneath Juno’s tightening grip, fingers digging into bruised flesh. Behind them, Zoey froze, the car keys slipping from her hand to clatter on the asphalt.

"How…?" Zoey breathed, voice thin with disbelief.

"No one saw her…" Abby lunged forward instinctively, but Baby hauled him back, both paralyzed by the lethal stillness radiating from Juno’s coiled stance.

Juno’s smile was a knife-slash in the dim light. "Miss me, little bird?" she crooned, her thumb pressing into the fading bruises on Mira’s neck. Mira’s choked sob echoed in the sudden vacuum of sound.

Rumi took a single, deliberate step forward, every muscle taut. "Let. Her. Go." The command cracked like a whip, low and lethal.

Juno’s laugh was a dry rasp. "Or what? You’ll play hero again? Look how well that turned out last time." Her gaze flicked to Zoey’s pale face, then back to Rumi. "She’s mine. Always was."

Mira clawed desperately at Juno’s forearm, legs kicking uselessly against the asphalt. "P-Please…" she gasped, tears blurring her vision. "Rumi…!"

The raw terror in her voice shattered Rumi’s restraint. She lunged, not at Juno, but low and fast, driving her shoulder into Juno’s midsection with a grunt of effort. The impact jolted Juno backward, her grip momentarily loosening. Mira slumped, coughing violently, scrambling away on hands and knees toward the fallen bear.

"Get her in the car!" Rumi snarled at Zoey, grappling with Juno as the taller woman recovered with a snarl, fists driving into Rumi’s ribs. Zoey snapped into motion, diving for Mira just as Abby and Baby surged forward, trying to flank Juno.

"Touch her and I break every bone in your hand!" Juno spat, twisting free of Rumi’s hold to land a vicious elbow against her temple. Stars exploded behind Rumi’s eyes, but she hooked an arm around Juno’s neck, dragging her backward. "Run, Mira! Now!"

Rumi’s voice cracked like a whip, slicing through the chaos. "Everyone BACK OFF!" she roared, shoving herself upright despite the agony screaming from her bruised ribs. This wasn't theirs. This was hers.

Juno surged forward, fist aimed at Rumi’s jaw, but Rumi pivoted sharply, letting momentum carry Juno past her. A swift sweep of her leg hooked Juno’s ankle, sending her crashing to the asphalt with a furious cry.

Pain flared in Rumi’s side as she dropped into a tight boxing stance, feet planted, fists raised – muscle memory from countless hours in the gym. Eli melted from the shadows near a dumpster, arms crossed, watching silently.

Juno, scrambling up, didn’t see him. Her eyes burned only with rage at the humiliation.

She charged again, a bull seeing red. Rumi sidestepped, the woman’s wild swing whistling past her ear. That first punch to her ribs had been a blindside, a mistake she wouldn’t repeat.

Across the parking lot, Mira slumped against the car door, Zoey’s arms locked around her, shielding her. Mira clutched her throat, gasping for air, her face etched with terror. Rumi saw it – the raw panic, the remembered pain – and something primal ignited within her.

Her next punch wasn't wild; it was controlled fury. A sharp jab snapped Juno’s head back. A cross followed, cracking against her cheekbone. A hook slammed into her solar plexus. Juno staggered, coughing, surprise flickering through the rage.

Juno snarled, spitting blood onto the asphalt. "You think this changes anything?" she rasped, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. "She'll always be mine. Weak. Broken."

She lunged, not at Rumi, but tried to dart past her towards Mira and Zoey. Rumi moved like lightning. She didn't intercept; she tackled. Her shoulder crashed into Juno’s midsection, driving her backward. They hit the ground hard, Rumi landing on top, pinning Juno’s wrists with crushing force.

Juno bucked wildly, desperation replacing fury. "Get OFF me!" she shrieked, twisting her head. She managed to get one hand free. One desperate upward swing connected – a brutal hook that slammed into Rumi’s jaw. Pain exploded, metallic blood flooding Rumi’s mouth as she bit her lip hard. Stars danced at the edge of her vision.

Rumi tasted blood, sharp and metallic. Juno’s triumphant smirk was a flash in the dim light. Rumi’s counter was instinct honed by rage and memory. She didn't hesitate. Her fist drove into Juno’s side – the same spot where Mira’s bandages hid deep gashes.

Juno gasped, her eyes widening in shock and pain. Rumi’s next blow was a hammer-fist straight to Juno’s jaw, mirroring the injury Mira’s voice still rasped from. "Hurts, doesn't it?" Rumi growled, her voice low and dangerous.

Juno tried to wrench free, but Rumi slammed her forearm across Juno’s throat, pressing down where Mira had been choked moments before. Juno gagged, her struggles weakening. "This?" Rumi hissed, leaning close, her eyes locked onto Juno’s frantic gaze. "This is what you gave her."

Juno choked, fingers scrabbling uselessly at Rumi’s arm. Then, Rumi remembered Mira’s whispered confessions in the hospital bed – the intimate violations, the cruel control. She remembered Juno wasn't just fists and threats. Her knee drove upward with brutal precision, jamming hard between Juno’s legs.

A choked, guttural scream tore from Juno’s throat – a sound of pure agony and shock. Her body convulsed, all fight draining instantly. Rumi leaned in, her voice a venomous whisper inches from Juno’s ear, her forearm still pinning her windpipe.

"You touch her again," she breathed, every word dripping with cold promise, "and I won't stop at your balls. I'll take everything." Juno whimpered, a broken, terrified sound, her eyes rolling back.

The sudden silence was deafening. Rumi remained poised atop Juno, breathing hard, blood trickling from her split lip onto Juno’s cheek. Across the parking lot, Zoey held Mira tighter, shielding her eyes from the brutal intimacy of the takedown.

Abby and Baby stood frozen, Eli a silent sentinel near the dumpster. Only Mira dared to peek through Zoey’s fingers, her gaze locked on Rumi’s hunched form. Rumi slowly eased her forearm pressure, watching Juno gasp for air, her body limp and trembling.

"Eli," Rumi called, her voice rough but steady. "Secure her."

Eli moved like smoke, pulling zip-ties from his jacket pocket. He rolled Juno onto her stomach with efficient brutality, wrenching her arms behind her back. Juno offered no resistance now, only ragged breaths and low, pained moans.

Rumi pushed herself up, staggering slightly as pain lanced through her ribs and jaw. She spat blood onto the asphalt near Juno’s head.

"The cops are already on their way," Eli stated flatly, tightening the last tie. "Heard the commotion." Sirens wailed faintly in the distance, growing louder. Rumi nodded, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand.

Her eyes found Mira’s – wide, terrified, but alive. "Get her in the car," Rumi ordered Zoey, her voice softer now, thick with exhaustion and relief. "Now." Zoey didn't hesitate, guiding the still-shaking Mira towards the open car door, the stuffed bear clutched tight against her chest.

Abby scrambled to open the rear door for them, his usual bravado replaced by stunned silence. Baby just stared at the prone, whimpering Juno, a flicker of something like pity crossing his face before he shook his head and moved towards the driver’s seat.

Rumi took one last look at Juno, bound and broken on the cold ground, then turned her back. Her own steps were stiff, painful, but deliberate as she walked towards the car where Mira waited.

Abby slid into the passenger seat next to Baby as the keys turned in the ignition, the engine roaring to life with a comforting rumble.

Rumi climbed into the back seat where Zoey sat behind Baby, Mira tucked protectively against her side in the middle. But Mira pulled away from Zoey’s embrace, her movements frantic, trembling fingers reaching for Rumi instead.

She turned Rumi’s face towards her own, her touch gentle yet urgent. Rumi was still breathing hard, sweat mingling with the blood on her lip, her knuckles raw. But her eyes, when they met Mira’s, were impossibly soft amidst the fading adrenaline haze.

Mira scanned Rumi’s face – the split lip, the bruise already darkening her jawline, the grimace of pain etched around her eyes. "You're bleeding," Mira whispered, her voice thick with tears. "She hurt you."

Rumi managed a small, crooked smile, wincing as it pulled at her lip. "Not as much as I hurt her," she murmured, her gaze dropping briefly to her own bruised hands. "Especially… well." She didn't need to elaborate; the memory of Juno’s choked scream hung heavy in the car.

Mira’s fingers traced the edge of the bruise on Rumi’s jaw, feather-light. "I'm sorry," Rumi breathed, the softness in her eyes deepening into regret. "She still got ahold of you. I promised… I promised she wouldn't touch you."

Mira shook her head fiercely, her own tears spilling over. "No," she choked out. "You stopped her. You hurt her." She leaned her forehead against Rumi’s, her breath warm and shaky.

"She only grabbed me… because you were there… she didn't…" Mira shuddered, unable to voice the horrors she’d feared in that instant. "You protected me. Like you said you would."

Zoey reached over silently, placing a steadying hand on Mira’s back, her own eyes glistening as she watched them.

Baby eased the car into gear, pulling away from the chaotic scene towards the hospital entrance lights, the sirens now a deafening crescendo behind them. Inside the moving car, cocooned in relative safety, Rumi wrapped her arms tightly around Mira, pulling her close.

"Always," Rumi whispered against Mira’s hair, the word a vow breathed into the dark. "Always."

The drive back was quiet, the hum of the engine steady beneath the faint whistle of wind. Mira sat pressed between Rumi and Zoey, clutching her bear tight, her eyes fixed on the passing streetlights that blurred through the window. Her mind replayed flashes of what had just happened—the choking grip, Rumi’s roar, the sound of sirens—but every time her breathing started to quicken, Rumi’s thumb brushed slow circles against the back of her hand. Grounding her. Keeping her here.

By the time they reached the apartment building, the night air was cool, carrying the faint scent of rain and city dust. Baby and Abby carried the duffel bags up, while Zoey unlocked the door. The soft click of the lock seemed louder than it should’ve been.

Mira stopped on the threshold.

Her tall frame filled the doorway, but her posture was small—shoulders slightly hunched, fingers fidgeting with the hem of her borrowed shirt. She’d never been inside their apartment before. It felt wrong to step into something that wasn’t hers, even if Rumi and Zoey had already said she’d be staying here.

Her heart thudded unevenly. What if she didn’t belong here? What if she ruined their space?

Rumi noticed the hesitation instantly. She stepped up beside her, her voice soft but firm. “Hey,” she murmured. “You okay?”

Mira hesitated, her eyes darting across the small but warm space inside—the cozy living room, faintly cluttered with plants and gear cases; the faint scent of coffee and vanilla lingering in the air. “I… I don’t know,” she admitted, her voice barely audible. “It just feels… strange. Being here.”

Zoey came up on her other side, taking her hand gently, her thumb brushing over Mira’s knuckles. “You don’t have to be scared,” she said softly. “This is your home now too, okay?”

Mira blinked at her, startled by the word. “My… home?”

Rumi smiled faintly and reached for Mira’s other hand, lacing their fingers together. “Yeah. Ours,” she said, nodding toward Zoey. “You’re safe here. No one’s ever gonna hurt you in this place.”

Zoey gave her hand a light squeeze. “Besides, it’s way too quiet without you.”

That earned a small, nervous laugh from Mira—quiet, but real.

Rumi and Zoey guided her forward together, fingers intertwined with hers as they stepped over the threshold. It was symbolic—gentle but sure. The second her feet crossed the doorway, something inside Mira’s chest loosened.

The air inside was warm. Safe.

They led her through the small entryway into the living room. Rumi dropped her bag near the couch, while Zoey kept Mira close. “You can sit wherever,” Zoey said softly. “Couch, chair, floor—we don’t care. Want some water?”

Mira shook her head faintly. “No, I just… I want to look.”

Rumi tilted her head. “At what?”

Mira took a step further in, her gaze sweeping over the space. “Everything. Just… where you live. It feels…” she hesitated, eyes tracing the little details—the photo strips on the fridge, the throw blankets piled on the couch, the faint hum of Zoey’s diffuser glowing in the corner. “It feels warm.”

Zoey’s smile softened. “Yeah,” she said quietly. “It’s supposed to.”

Mira turned to face them, her expression fragile but open. “You really mean it? I can stay here? For real?”

Rumi stepped forward, cupping Mira’s face gently between her hands, careful of the healing bruises along her jaw. “For real,” she said, her voice steady. “For as long as you want. You don’t ever have to go back to that place.”

Zoey nodded in firm agreement, looping her arm gently around Mira’s waist. “You’ve got a room right down the hall. It’s not big, but it’s yours now.”

Mira’s lips parted slightly, her throat tightening. “Yours… and mine?” she asked in a whisper, eyes darting between the two of them.

Rumi smiled softly, brushing a strand of hair from Mira’s face. “Ours,” she confirmed, her voice barely above a whisper.

The tension in Mira’s shoulders melted. She blinked fast, swallowing hard, before throwing her arms around both of them, burying her face in Rumi’s shoulder. Her breath hitched once, then steadied, the quietest sob escaping against the warmth of their embrace.

Rumi tightened her hold, one hand threading gently through Mira’s hair, the other rubbing slow circles along her back. Zoey pressed her cheek against Mira’s, whispering softly, “Welcome home, Mir.”

Mira nodded against them, eyes still closed, tears dampening Rumi’s jacket. “Home,” she repeated, her voice trembling but full of something new—something healing.

When they finally pulled apart, Rumi brushed the tears from her cheeks with her thumb.

Zoey smiled and gave a soft clap of her hands. “Okay. I can cook something up real quick. A real meal this time,” she said, grinning. “Something that doesn’t taste like hospital food.”

Mira let out a long, shaky sigh—one that sounded almost like relief.

Rumi noticed. “What was that for?” she asked gently.

Mira hesitated, fiddling with her sleeve. “I just… I always cooked before,” she admitted quietly. “Every meal. If I didn’t, she’d…” she trailed off, voice catching. “I’d get punished for it. So it’s… nice. Not having to. Just being able to sit.”

Zoey’s face softened. “Then you don’t have to lift a finger tonight,” she said firmly, voice gentle but sure. “You just sit and relax, okay? You’ve done enough.”

Rumi nodded in agreement, resting a comforting hand on Mira’s shoulder. “She’s right. You’re home now. Things are different here.”

Mira swallowed hard and nodded, her chest tight but warm.

Rumi tilted her head toward the hallway. “C’mon, let’s show you your room. It used to be the guest room, but…” she smiled softly, “it’s yours now. You can do whatever you want with it.”

Mira followed them down the short hallway. When Rumi opened the door, soft light spilled in through the window. The room was simple but warm—fresh sheets on the bed, a small dresser, a potted plant in the corner, and a folded blanket that looked suspiciously like one Zoey used to keep on the couch.

Mira stood in the doorway, her throat tightening all over again. “This is… mine?” she whispered.

Zoey smiled from behind her. “Every inch of it.”

Rumi crossed her arms and leaned against the doorframe. “You can paint it, decorate it, throw everything out if you want. It’s your space, Mira.”

Mira took a slow step inside, running her fingers along the edge of the dresser. For the first time in what felt like forever, she didn’t feel like she was trespassing somewhere.

She turned back to them, her voice barely above a whisper. “Thank you.”

Zoey grinned. “Don’t thank us yet. I still have to prove I can cook edible food.”

Rumi snorted. “She’s gotten better, I swear. Only a fifty-fifty chance of smoke this time.”

That earned a laugh from Mira—a small, real, fragile sound that made both of them smile.

For the first time in months, she felt safe enough to laugh.

Mira sat quietly at the small dining table, her hands wrapped around a cup of water as the sound of clinking pans and sizzling oil filled the air. The apartment smelled like butter and garlic, something savory and comforting that made her stomach twist with a kind of hunger she hadn’t felt in a long time — not just for food, but for normalcy.

Zoey stood at the stove, hair pulled up in a loose bun, swaying slightly to a faint song playing from her phone. Rumi was beside her, chopping vegetables with her usual precision, sleeves rolled up to her elbows. They worked in rhythm, bumping shoulders occasionally — Rumi tossing something into the pan, Zoey pretending to shove her with a grin.

“Hey, careful with the onions,” Zoey said, waving her spatula dramatically. “You cut them too small again.”

Rumi arched a brow, her smirk immediate. “Too small? You said bite-sized, didn’t you?”

“I meant bite-sized for humans, not for fairies,” Zoey shot back, trying not to laugh.

Rumi laughed under her breath. “You’re just mad because I’m faster.”

“Yeah, well, maybe I’d be faster if someone didn’t steal all the counter space.”

Mira couldn’t help it — she snorted, covering her mouth quickly. Both Rumi and Zoey turned to her, mock-offended.

“Oh, so you’re on her side?” Rumi asked, gesturing at Zoey with her knife.

Mira chuckled softly, lowering her hand. “I’m just observing,” she said, still smiling. “You two are like… watching a cooking show where no one knows who’s actually in charge.”

Zoey gasped dramatically. “Excuse me? I am definitely in charge.”

“Sure you are,” Rumi said dryly, tossing the chopped onions into the pan with a soft hiss. “Head chef of chaos.”

That earned another laugh from Mira — louder this time. It surprised even her. The sound felt foreign, shaky, but real. Zoey caught it and grinned over her shoulder.

“That’s the second time today,” Zoey said teasingly. “I’m counting. You’re on a roll, Mir.”

Mira rolled her eyes, trying to hide the faint blush creeping up her neck. “Don’t make it weird.”

Rumi smirked. “Too late. She’s been waiting for this moment since you smiled yesterday.”

Zoey elbowed her gently. “Hey, you were the one saying you wanted her to feel comfortable.”

“I do,” Rumi said, eyes softening as she glanced over at Mira. “And I think she finally is.”

The sincerity in her tone made Mira’s smile falter, but not in a bad way. She looked down at her cup, tracing her thumb along the rim. “I… yeah. It’s weird,” she admitted quietly. “But… good weird.”

Zoey turned down the heat on the stove and came over, leaning on the back of the chair beside Mira. “Good weird is still good,” she said gently. “Means things are changing.”

Rumi came over next, setting down a small bowl of freshly sliced peppers on the counter. “And you’re handling it like a champ,” she added, a faint grin tugging at her lips. “You’ve done more in two days than most people could after what you’ve been through.”

Mira blinked, glancing between them. “You really think so?”

Rumi nodded, leaning against the counter. “I know so.”

Zoey grinned, popping a small piece of bell pepper into her mouth. “And if you don’t believe her, you’ll believe me, right?”

Mira smiled faintly. “You’re both kind of hard to argue with.”

Rumi smirked. “That’s why we make a good team.”

“Sometimes,” Zoey corrected with a grin, dodging Rumi’s playful swat.

Mira’s laughter came easier this time, the sound filling the kitchen like sunlight. She leaned back in her chair, watching the two of them move around each other with practiced ease — teasing, touching shoulders, trading utensils like it was second nature.

It was so normal. So human. And for the first time in what felt like years, she felt like she could breathe.

“Hey, Mira,” Zoey called as she stirred the pan. “Think you can grab the plates for us?”

Mira hesitated, then stood carefully, her balance still not perfect but steady enough. She reached into the cabinet where Zoey pointed and set the plates on the table.

“Thanks,” Zoey said warmly. “You’re officially part of the kitchen crew.”

Mira smiled, shaking her head. “Guess I’ll take that over being head chef.”

“Good,” Rumi said from the counter, smirking. “Because this kitchen already has two of those.”

That made Zoey laugh again — the kind that made her shoulders shake and her eyes crinkle — and Rumi’s grin widened. Mira just stood there for a second, smiling softly at the two of them.

This wasn’t just safety.
This was home.

The food didn’t take long — just something simple: stir-fried vegetables, rice, and pan-seared chicken, all seasoned the way Zoey liked it — just enough spice to make Rumi complain between bites and Mira laugh.

By the time Zoey plated everything, the apartment had filled with the kind of smell that felt like home. Garlic, soy sauce, toasted rice. Comfort.

Rumi set the table while Zoey brought the pan over, still sizzling faintly. Mira sat across from them, her eyes wide as if she couldn’t believe this was actually happening — sitting at a table, surrounded by laughter and warmth, instead of sterile white walls and beeping monitors.

Zoey plopped a generous scoop of rice onto her plate and grinned. “Alright, first homemade meal outta the hospital. What’s the verdict, Mira — ready to eat real food again?”

Mira gave a small laugh, picking up her chopsticks. “I don’t even care what it tastes like. If it’s not hospital mush, it’s already perfect.”

Rumi smirked. “You say that now, wait until Zoey accidentally adds too much chili oil again.”

Zoey gasped, hand to her chest. “Excuse you, that was one time! And you still went back for seconds.”

“Yeah, after my tongue recovered.”

Mira snorted into her rice, and Zoey grinned triumphantly at making her laugh again.

They fell into an easy rhythm after that — soft clinks of chopsticks, quiet conversation, the kind of domestic peace that seemed to hum through the air. For a while, nobody spoke. The only sound was the occasional hum of the fridge and the faint rustle of fabric as someone reached for a napkin.

Then Mira set her chopsticks down, halfway through her plate, and let out a long sigh — not from tiredness, but something else.

Rumi noticed first. “What’s wrong? You okay?”

Mira looked down at her food, twisting the edge of her napkin. “It’s nothing bad,” she said softly. “It’s just… weird.”

Zoey tilted her head. “Weird how?”

Mira hesitated, then gave a small, shaky smile. “Just… eating. Like this. With people. It feels normal.”

Rumi’s expression softened, her eyes gentle. “That’s because it is normal. You deserve that.”

Mira nodded slowly, her throat tight. “I used to cook all the meals, you know? Every day. Breakfast, lunch, dinner. It didn’t matter if I was tired or hurt, I had to. If I didn’t…” She trailed off, her voice fading. The smile disappeared, replaced by a faraway look.

Zoey set her chopsticks down, her tone quiet but steady. “You don’t have to finish that sentence, Mira.”

Rumi reached across the table, resting her hand over Mira’s. “You don’t have to cook for anyone here. Or be afraid of what happens if you don’t.”

Mira’s fingers trembled under hers. “I… I know. It’s just hard to believe sometimes.”

Zoey reached over too, her smaller hand covering Mira’s from the other side. “Then we’ll help you believe it,” she said softly. “One meal at a time.”

Mira swallowed hard, her eyes burning. She didn’t pull away — instead, she squeezed both their hands gently. “Thank you,” she whispered. “I don’t think I’ve ever had a meal that felt this safe.”

Rumi’s thumb brushed slow circles against the back of her hand. “You’ve got plenty more of these coming,” she said quietly. “This is your home now. You’re safe here.”

Zoey smiled, nudging Mira’s plate toward her again. “And you better finish that. Because if you don’t, I’m eating the rest.”

That earned a watery laugh from Mira, who sniffled and wiped her cheek with the back of her hand. “You’re worse than Rumi.”

Rumi chuckled. “She really is. I swear she’s got a hollow leg.”

Zoey stuck her tongue out at both of them, and the tension broke — the laughter came back, soft but genuine, echoing off the apartment walls.

By the time the dishes were cleared and rinsed, the evening light had dimmed to gold through the window blinds. Mira lingered by the table for a while, just watching them — Zoey teasing Rumi about her “messy drying technique,” Rumi rolling her eyes with a half-smile that made Zoey giggle.

It wasn’t perfect. Nothing about this was. But for the first time in a long, long time, Mira didn’t feel like she was waiting for something bad to happen.

For the first time, she just was.

After dinner, the apartment grew calm again — the hum of the city outside muffled by thick curtains, the clinking of dishes fading into the soft rhythm of home.

Zoey stretched her arms over her head with a yawn. “Alright,” she said, glancing toward Mira. “You’ve officially survived your first real meal out of the hospital.”

Rumi smiled, leaning against the kitchen counter. “Which means it’s time for the grand tour.”

Mira blinked, confused. “Tour?”

Zoey nodded and motioned for her to follow. “Yeah. You’ve seen the living room, but there’s one part missing.”

Rumi led the way down the short hall, stopping in front of a door on the right. She pushed it open slowly, the warm amber light spilling from the hallway revealing a small but cozy room beyond.

It wasn’t anything extravagant — a neatly made bed with a soft gray comforter, a nightstand with a lamp that cast a gentle glow, and a small dresser beneath the window. A few empty picture frames sat on the shelf, waiting to be filled. A potted plant sat in the corner, leaves catching the soft light.

It smelled faintly like lavender.

Mira froze in the doorway. Her hand hovered near the doorframe, eyes darting across every detail like she was afraid to touch anything. “This… this is for me?”

Zoey smiled, stepping beside her. “Yup. We usually use it for guests, but—” she shrugged, “it’s yours now. No one else’s.”

Rumi added gently, “We wanted you to have your own space. Somewhere that’s safe. That feels like yours.”

Mira stepped inside slowly, her socked feet barely making a sound against the floor. Her fingers brushed the edge of the dresser, then the blanket, tracing the stitching like she was memorizing the feeling.

She turned in a slow circle, her throat tight. “I haven’t…” she started, but her voice cracked. She tried again, quieter this time. “I haven’t had a room since I was a kid.”

Zoey’s expression softened. “Not even—?”

Mira shook her head. “When I was little, yeah. But not since then. It was never mine. Not really.” She gave a small, broken laugh. “Even the bed I slept in wasn’t mine. It was just… there.”

Rumi leaned against the doorframe, watching her with quiet eyes. “Well,” she said softly, “this one is yours. No one touches it, no one decides what goes in it but you.”

Mira nodded, swallowing hard. She sat down on the bed carefully, like it might disappear beneath her. The mattress gave a soft creak under her weight — the kind of sound that only belonged to a lived-in place.

Her eyes shimmered, tears catching in the lamplight. “It’s really soft,” she said with a shaky laugh, running her hand over the blanket again. “And it smells nice.”

Zoey chuckled softly. “That’d be Rumi’s doing. She got all fancy with the laundry stuff.”

Rumi rolled her eyes. “It’s called fabric softener, Zoey.”

That made Mira laugh — really laugh, the sound fragile but genuine. It faded into a small, wistful smile. “Thank you. Both of you. I don’t even know what to say.”

Zoey came over, sitting on the edge of the bed beside her. “You don’t have to say anything,” she said softly. “Just breathe. It’s yours, Mira. Finally.”

Mira nodded slowly. Her hands rested in her lap, trembling a little from the weight of it all. “It’s… strange,” she murmured, looking around the room again. “I keep waiting for someone to tell me to leave. Or to take it back.”

Rumi walked over, crouching beside the bed so she was eye-level with her. “That’s not gonna happen,” she said, her voice steady but warm. “You’re not a guest. You’re home.”

For a long moment, Mira didn’t answer. She just sat there, breathing quietly, feeling the soft warmth of the blanket beneath her palms.

Then she whispered, almost to herself, “Home…”

Zoey smiled, leaning against Rumi’s shoulder as she looked around. “Kinda has a nice ring to it, huh?”

Mira nodded faintly, a tear finally slipping down her cheek — but this time, it wasn’t from fear.

Rumi brushed the tear away gently with her thumb. “You’re safe, Mira. You can rest now.”

Mira’s voice cracked when she spoke. “Yeah… I think I can.”

The words hung in the air like a fragile promise — but it was real. The first night in a long time that truly belonged to her.

An hour passed.

The room was quiet, the faint hum of the city beyond the window blending with the soft tick of the clock on the nightstand. Mira lay on her side, facing the wall, her eyes open. She’d been still for what felt like forever, trying to force her body to relax.

But sleep wouldn’t come.

The blanket was warm. The bed soft. The air smelled faintly of lavender and detergent — a peaceful mix. Everything should’ve felt safe. But her chest was tight, her mind restless. Every creak in the building made her flinch, every shadow under the door seemed to move if she stared long enough.

She turned over, staring up at the ceiling. The quiet was too much — too loud.

After a long moment, she exhaled shakily and pushed the blanket aside. Her bare feet touched the cool floor, grounding her just enough to move. She hesitated in the doorway, listening to the muffled silence of the apartment before padding softly down the short hall to the left.

A sliver of warm light slipped through the crack under Rumi and Zoey’s door — the kind of soft glow from a bedside lamp. Mira raised her hand and knocked gently, barely loud enough to be heard.

There was a pause, then the sound of sheets rustling. A few footsteps later, the door opened.

Rumi stood there, her hair a little messy, wearing a loose t-shirt and soft shorts that hung just above her knees. The gentle light behind her outlined her silhouette, and for a brief second, Mira forgot how to breathe.

Rumi blinked sleepily, her voice low and warm. “Mira? You okay?”

Mira swallowed hard, trying to find her voice. “I… uh…” she looked down, embarrassed at how small her voice sounded. “I can’t sleep.”

Rumi’s expression softened immediately, the sleepiness in her eyes replaced by quiet concern. “Nightmares?”

She shook her head. “No. Just…” she hesitated, fidgeting with the hem of her shirt. “It’s too quiet. Too empty. I’m not used to it.”

Rumi nodded slowly, understanding more than she said. “You want to stay in here for a bit?”

Mira’s eyes lifted just enough to meet hers. “If that’s okay. I just—” she paused, almost backing away, “—I just want some company.”

Rumi’s answer came without hesitation. “Of course.” She stepped aside and gestured for her to come in. “C’mon.”

The room was softly lit by a lamp on the nightstand. Zoey was still half-awake, propped up slightly on one elbow, blinking at them. “Everything okay?” she murmured, voice husky from sleep.

“Mira can’t sleep,” Rumi said quietly. “She’s gonna stay in here tonight.”

Zoey blinked again, then smiled, scooting over without question. “Yeah, that’s fine. The floor setup’s still here if you want it.”

Mira nodded, a little relieved, though she still looked hesitant. “Yeah… the floor’s fine. It’s comfy, actually.”

Rumi grinned faintly. “Zoey’s secret talent — turning blankets into actual furniture.”

Zoey chuckled softly. “Hey, I had to make something decent for the first few nights Rumi moved in. You can thank me later.”

Mira managed a small smile, kneeling down to fix the little pallet Zoey had made earlier. It was simple — a thick comforter folded over itself, a spare pillow, and another blanket. Cozy, warm, familiar.

She sat down, then lay back, staring up at the ceiling again. But this time, she could hear Zoey’s soft breathing, the rustle of Rumi moving under the covers, the steady heartbeat of a quiet, living home.

Rumi leaned over the bed slightly. “You good?”

Mira nodded slowly, her voice barely above a whisper. “Yeah… thank you.”

Zoey murmured drowsily, “No monsters in this room. Promise.”

Mira let out a small laugh. “That’s good to know.”

Rumi smiled softly, reaching down to give Mira’s shoulder a reassuring squeeze. “You’re safe here, okay? Try to get some rest.”

Mira nodded again, her eyelids heavy now. The sound of their quiet breathing, the subtle shift of blankets, the warmth of their presence — it all slowly untangled the tension in her chest.

Her mind still flickered with unease, but it was fading. Bit by bit.

For the first time in a long while, she fell asleep not to silence, but to the sound of people nearby — people who cared.

And for her, that was enough.

Chapter Text

Mira woke to the sound of rustling sheets above her. She sat up, rubbing her eyes as she looked toward the bed, where Rumi and Zoey were still sleeping soundly, tangled up together beneath the blanket. Mira sat quietly on the makeshift pallet Zoey had made for her, her little stuffed bear lying beside her.

She picked it up, running her thumb along the soft fabric.
“Pathetic,” she murmured to herself, a small, rueful smile tugging at her lips. “A grown adult sleeping with a teddy bear.”
But she couldn’t deny it — she did like it. It was a gift from them both, after all.

Her smile softened.
“They really do care about me, don’t they?” she whispered, hugging the bear gently. The lavender scent had faded almost completely, but the faint trace of vanilla — Zoey’s scent — still lingered. It made her chest feel warm.

She left the bear on her pallet and padded out of the room quietly. The bathroom was just outside the door, and she hesitated before turning the light on. She hadn’t looked in a mirror since that night — since Juno.
The thought alone made her stomach tighten. But after a long breath, she flicked the switch anyway.

The reflection made her stomach drop. It wasn’t just the bruises — though the fading one around her left eye stood out starkly — it was everything else. Her cheeks were hollow, collarbones sharp beneath her skin, her eyes sunken and tired.

She looked… fragile.
Broken in a way that even sleep and bandages couldn’t fix.

Her throat tightened. “I… I look like death.”
Her voice trembled.

She tore her gaze away from the mirror before it made her sick, remembering why she’d gone in there in the first place. After using the restroom and washing her hands, she stepped back into the hall, unsure whether to return to bed or not.

Sleep wasn’t coming anyway.

So she decided to explore instead — quietly, slowly, still unsteady on her feet. Every step felt like she weighed next to nothing. She made her way to the couch and lowered herself down carefully onto the cushions.

“This feels… nice,” she whispered to no one, sinking into the softness with a relieved sigh.

Her gaze drifted to the built-in bookshelf against the wall. She stood again, curiosity outweighing fatigue, and traced her fingers along the spines of the books. Some smooth, some rough and frayed with age. Her eyes caught on one title — The Wolf and the Sheep.

A small hum escaped her lips. “I’m sure they won’t mind.”

She slid it off the shelf and returned to the couch, folding her legs underneath her. The book was clearly well-loved; its spine bent, pages slightly yellowed. When she opened it, the scent of old paper and smoke rose from the pages.

That smell — it hit her like a memory.
The library. Her sanctuary as a teenager.
Where the air always smelled like wood, paper, and tea.
Where she met Miss Mae Mae.

“Miss Mira,” a familiar, gentle voice had said. The old librarian was walking toward her with a cup of tea. “You’ve been here for quite a while, dear. I thought you might like some of my tea.”

Mira had stood, smiling shyly, bowing her head slightly. “Thank you, Miss Mae Mae.”

The woman smiled, her wrinkles deepening. “It’s my pleasure. You’re always so kind — I see you here more than anyone else.”

Miss Mae Mae turned to head back to the front desk, but Mira spoke before she could leave.
“Miss Mae Mae, can I ask you something?”

The woman turned, patient as ever. “Of course, dear.”

Mira hesitated, staring into her cup. “How do you stay so calm? With the rude people, I mean. The ones who don’t deserve it.”

Mae Mae chuckled softly, leaning on her cane. “Oh, sweetheart… You can’t control how people treat you.” Her voice was low and warm. “But you can control how much space you give their words inside your heart.”

Mira frowned faintly. “That’s… easier said than done.”

“I know,” the older woman said, lowering herself onto the couch beside her. “Took me sixty years to learn it. And I still forget sometimes.” She rested a comforting hand on Mira’s shoulder. “When someone’s cruel, it’s usually because they’re carrying something heavy you can’t see. It’s not about you, dear. It never is.”

Mira’s eyes welled as she looked down into her tea. “Then how do you explain my parents?” she whispered. “They treat me like I’m nothing.”

Mae Mae’s heart softened. She reached up and cupped Mira’s cheek gently. “Sometimes, child, people don’t know how to love properly — or at all. But that doesn’t mean you’re unworthy of it.”

The touch broke her. A single tear escaped and slid down her cheek. “I’m sorry,” Mira said quickly, wiping it away. “My mom never… does that. She never shows me anything like that.”

“You don’t need to apologize,” Mae Mae said softly, her smile kind and steady. “One day, you’ll find people who will love you — truly love you — for who you are. And when you do, you’ll know.”

Mira had smiled through her tears, warmth blooming in her chest. “I really hope that’s true.”

Mae Mae stood, patting her shoulder. “The world is big, Mira. But I know you’ll find it.”

Mira had taken another sip of her tea, closing her eyes, letting the woman’s words sink in.

Now, years later, sitting on Rumi and Zoey’s couch with The Wolf and the Sheep in her lap, she smiled faintly through new tears.

“I think I finally found it, Miss Mae Mae,” she whispered, her voice trembling softly. “I finally found where I belong… and people who care about me — who make me feel safe.”

She didn’t even realize she was crying until a tear splashed onto the page.

She continued to read the book in her hand after that

Mira’s eyes lingered on the line: “Skyscraper." A small smile tugged at her lips, and the memory came rushing back.

It had been just after school, Lily tugging at her backpack straps, shorter as ever, grinning up at Mira with those mischievous eyes. “Seriously, Mira, careful! I don’t want you stepping on me by accident!” Lily teased, bouncing on her toes to make herself seem taller. Mira had laughed, a nervous heat creeping up her cheeks at how cheeky Lily was.

As they walked home, Lily suddenly spotted a bench along the way. “Wait here, skyscraper,” she called, jumping up onto it, her small frame suddenly daring and bold. Mira hesitated for just a second, heart hammering, before stepping closer.

Lily’s grin widened, sharp and playful, and she reached up, grabbing Mira by the waist. “Thought you might need a little… closer perspective,” she whispered, before pressing her lips to Mira’s in a quick, teasing kiss.

Mira froze, startled, the world narrowing down to the feel of Lily against her. Then, almost instinctively, her body moved, wrapping her arms around Lily. She deepened the kiss, heavier this time, trying to convey everything she hadn’t dared to say. Heart racing, breath catching, she murmured softly against Lily’s lips, “I… I love you.”

Lily’s eyes widened just slightly, a blush rising across her small face, before she returned the smile, leaning in closer. The afternoon sun caught them both, but Mira barely noticed, lost entirely in the warmth of Lily’s daring, playful affection.

Mira’s heart thumped wildly in her chest, still catching its rhythm from the kiss. She pulled back just slightly, brushing a strand of hair from her face, eyes wide and nervous. “Lily…” she began, her voice barely above a whisper.

Lily tilted her head, the mischievous sparkle still in her eyes. “Yeah?”

Mira swallowed hard, the words tasting heavy on her tongue. “I… I want… I want you to be… mine.”

Lily blinked, confused for a moment. “Mine? What do you mean?”

“I mean,” Mira said, taking a deep breath, feeling every ounce of courage gather in her chest, “I want you to be my girlfriend.”

For a heartbeat, Lily’s eyes widened, the bench beneath her seeming to tremble slightly as if echoing the tension. Then her lips curved into a soft, shy smile, and she stepped closer, brushing her fingers against Mira’s hand.

“You… you really mean that?” she asked softly, a blush rising across her cheeks.

Mira nodded, heart thudding in her chest. “Yes. I… I’ve wanted this for a long time. I just didn’t… I didn’t know how to tell you.”

Lily’s grin returned, brighter this time, teasing but warm. “Well… I think I can work with that.” And before Mira could respond, Lily leaned in and kissed her again, slower this time, tender and full of promise, sealing the beginning of something new.

Mira melted into the kiss, wrapping her arms around Lily, heart soaring. She felt seen, wanted, and finally, loved.

The memory hit Mira like a tidal wave, crashing over her as she sat stiffly on the couch, hands curled in her lap. Her chest ached, and her eyes welled up with tears she hadn’t realized were still waiting to fall.

She remembered Lily’s bright smile, the way she would tease her on their walks home. But then the sickness had come, slowly at first, like a shadow creeping across the sun. Mira had held her close during nights when the fever burned hot, whispering reassurances that she herself barely believed.

“I’m right here, Lily… I’ve got you,” Mira had said, her voice trembling as she pressed a cool hand to Lily’s forehead.

Lily had managed a weak, teasing smile, her small frame shivering under the blankets. “You always know how to make me feel better… even when I’m being the biggest pain in the ass,” she whispered, her voice barely audible.

Mira had laughed softly through her tears then, brushing a strand of hair from Lily’s face. “You’re not a pain. You’re… you’re everything.”

But as the weeks passed, the illness stole more from Lily—her laughter, her energy, her bright, stubborn little spirit. Mira remembered sitting by her bedside one night, holding Lily’s hand tightly, as the beeping of the monitors seemed deafening in the quiet room.

“Please… don’t go,” Mira had choked out, her tears soaking the sheets. “I can’t… I can’t do this without you.”

Lily had squeezed her hand weakly, a faint smile ghosting across her pale lips. “Mira… don’t cry… I… I love you… always… you have to… keep… being happy…”

The final moments were a blur of sobs and shaking, Mira’s body curled around Lily’s smaller one as the life slowly slipped away. When it was over, the room felt empty, colder than anything Mira had ever known.

Mira’s voice cracked as she whispered to herself, sitting on the couch in Rumi and Zoey’s apartment. “I… I lost her… my Lily… and there was nothing I could do… nothing.”

She shivered, hugging herself as the grief resurfaced, raw and unrelenting. “I loved her so much… she was everything to me… and she’s gone.”

The memory lingered, heavy in her chest, but beneath the ache, a tiny warmth remained—the knowledge that she had been loved in return, even if only for a short time. And it reminded her, painfully, why she fought so hard to feel safe now, with people who would never hurt her.

Rumi stepped quietly into the living room, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. Zoey was still sprawled across the bed, completely oblivious to the world, mumbling something incoherent in her sleep. Not exactly a morning person, as usual.

Her gaze landed on Mira, curled up on the couch, hugging herself tightly. Her heart clenched. There was no attempt to hide—Mira’s tear-streaked face looked up at Rumi immediately, eyes wide and brimming again.

Before Rumi could even take a step closer, Mira practically leapt into her arms, sobbing uncontrollably. Rumi’s arms wrapped around her instinctively, holding her close, careful not to press against her side.

“Mira… hey… hey, it’s okay,” Rumi murmured softly, her voice thick with concern. She led her gently back to the couch, easing her down so she could sit, still enveloped in Rumi’s embrace. “What’s wrong? What happened?”

Mira shook her head, burying her face against Rumi’s chest. “I… I had… flashbacks,” she whispered, her voice breaking. “Memories… of Lily… my first love… my first kiss… she knew I loved her… and… she… she kissed me too… she… she got sick, and I… I lost her.”

Rumi’s hand rubbed slow, comforting circles along Mira’s back. “Hey… it’s okay to feel that, Mira. It’s okay to let it out,” she said, her tone gentle but firm. “You loved her… that’s important. That’s real.”

Tears spilled over Mira’s cheeks as she hiccuped, words tumbling out in broken bursts. “We… we were together… we had dates, late-night movies… little whispers… she kissed me… I… I didn’t know what to do at first, but… I kissed her back… I told her… I wanted her to be mine… I wanted her to be my girlfriend…”

Her voice dropped to a whisper, almost lost in the sobs. “And then… the cancer… it… it took her… and I… I couldn’t… I couldn’t save her… she’s gone… gone…”

Rumi held her tighter, letting her cry, her heart aching for the pain Mira carried. “I’m so sorry, Mira… I can’t imagine what that felt like. But you’re not alone now. You’re safe here, with us,” she murmured, stroking Mira’s hair gently. “You’ve got me, and Zoey… we’ll never let anything happen to you.”

Mira’s tears didn’t stop immediately, but her body began to relax slightly in Rumi’s arms. She sniffled, lifting her head just enough to look at Rumi through the haze of tears. “I… I never got to say goodbye properly… even though she knew I loved her…”

Rumi brushed a wet strand of hair from her face, pressing her forehead gently against Mira’s. “You loved her. That love… it’s part of you, Mira. It always will be. And it brought you here, to people who care about you now. Who will fight for you, just like you fought for her.”

Mira let out a shaky breath, burying her face once more into Rumi’s chest, feeling the warmth and safety she had so desperately craved. The memories were painful, but in this moment, with Rumi holding her, she realized she didn’t have to face them alone.

Rumi didn’t say anything after Mira buried herself against her chest. She simply held her, letting her cry out the remnants of the pain that had been bottled up for so long. Her fingers threaded through Mira’s dark hair, feeling the soft new growth starting to come in at the top of her head, gradually covering the faded pink she’d dyed weeks ago.

She pressed a gentle kiss to the crown of Mira’s head, humming softly. “Shh… it’s okay,” she whispered, her voice a soothing anchor in the quiet apartment. “You’re safe now, Mira. You’re home.”

Mira didn’t respond with words, only letting herself sink deeper into the comfort, trusting Rumi’s steady heartbeat beneath her cheek. The quiet intimacy of the moment—the soft scent of lavender still lingering faintly in Rumi’s hair, the warmth of her arms around her—was grounding.

Rumi continued brushing her fingers gently through Mira’s hair, loosening the knots of tension she hadn’t even realized were there. She didn’t need to say anything else; the embrace, the softness of the touch, and the quiet presence was enough. Mira’s sobs gradually slowed, the tightness in her chest easing just a little.

After a while, Rumi pulled back just enough to rest her forehead against Mira’s, eyes soft and brimming with care. “I’ve got you,” she murmured. “Always.”

Mira let out a shaky sigh, a small, almost imperceptible smile forming against Rumi’s chest. For the first time in a long time, she felt like she could breathe.

Mira finally let out a long, shuddering breath, the last of her tears spent. She leaned heavily against Rumi, feeling the warmth and steady presence of her arms around her. Slowly, her fingers reached out to the book resting on the cushion next to them, brushing the cover before opening it carefully.

Rumi’s voice was soft, almost hesitant. “You know… that’s Zoey’s favorite book.”

Mira looked up at her briefly, then back down at the cover. “I noticed the title… it looked interesting. And, well… I like it too,” she said quietly, her voice tinged with both awe and lingering vulnerability. “Besides the fact that it triggered those memories, but the other ones—the ones in the library, they were… calm. Safe. Happy.”

Rumi’s lips curved into a small, warm smile. “Oh? The library?”

Mira nodded, her thumb tracing the spine. “Yeah… Miss Mae Mae. She… she was so kind to me. Always had tea ready, always so calm. I… I miss that feeling sometimes.” She paused, glancing up at Rumi. “I think I’d like to go back one day. Maybe… see if she still works there. Even if she doesn’t, I could just… get some books of my own. Have a place like that again, you know?”

Rumi nodded, brushing a strand of hair from Mira’s face. “We can do that. One day soon, we’ll go together. We’ll find her—or just find some books you like. Your own little corner of calm, away from everything else. How does that sound?”

Mira let out a small, relieved laugh, the tension in her shoulders easing slightly. “That… sounds perfect.” She closed the book gently, hugging it to her chest, and leaned back against Rumi again. “Thank you… for being here.”

Rumi pressed her lips briefly to the top of Mira’s head. “Always. You’re not alone anymore.”

For a moment, the world felt quiet and safe—like it hadn’t in years. Mira’s chest rose and fell with more ease, and for the first time in a long time, she felt a little bit of the calm she’d been searching for.

Chapter Text

Rumi didn’t want to comment on how small Mira looked then—how fragile, how breakable. Not after everything she’d just confessed. So she said nothing. She simply sat there with Mira leaning against her, reading quietly, cheeks still pink and damp from earlier. Content, but worn thin. Rumi didn’t dare disturb the calm.

Her gaze drifted to her own hand, to the fresh bandages wrapped over bruised knuckles. She curled her fingers into a fist, then flexed them out again, testing the ache.

“Does it hurt too much?”

Rumi looked down. Mira’s attention was no longer on the book—she was staring at Rumi’s hand. Mira reached for it, hesitated, then stopped as if afraid she didn’t have the right. Rumi lowered her hand the rest of the way, allowing her to look.

“No, not at all,” Rumi said.

Mira sat up, studying her face with a seriousness that was impossible to dodge. “Don’t lie to me. Please.”

Rumi softened. “I’m not lying, sweetheart. It really doesn’t hurt.” And it was true. Her eyes told her that—steady, reassuring, honest. “Do you know how many fights I’ve broken up at my bar with these fists? A lot. My knuckles are practically numb to it now. I’m okay, I swear.”

Mira didn’t look convinced. Instead she reached up, fingers barely grazing Rumi’s jaw as she gently turned her face toward the light. She took in every bruise—the one darkened along her jaw beside the split lip, and the one at her temple blooming into a faint black eye.

Her voice was small. “What about your face? Does that hurt?”

Rumi huffed out a dry laugh. “My face hurts like hell, I won’t lie.” She offered a crooked, lopsided grin, trying to lighten the moment.

Mira’s expression melted at that—tender, worried, unguarded. And before either of them seemed to realize she was moving, Mira leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to Rumi’s temple.

Rumi froze.

Her eyes widened. Thoughts flat-lined. She blinked once. Twice. Mira pulled back, instantly panicked.

“Oh—oh no, I’m so… I’m so sorry. I didn’t—I wasn’t—”

“Mira.” Rumi raised her voice just enough to stop the spiral—firm, but gentle. “It’s okay. You’re okay. I promise.”

Mira snapped her mouth shut, lips pressed into a tight line, eyes big and unblinking. But she didn’t flinch away. She didn’t retreat. She just sat there, caught between fear and longing, breathing like she was afraid she’d ruin something by moving.

Slowly, Rumi lifted her uninjured hand and cupped Mira’s cheek, warm and careful.

“I don’t mind it,” she said softly.

Then Rumi guided her forward, just enough to lean in and press a slow, lingering kiss to Mira’s forehead—steady, grounding, intentional.

Rumi let her forehead rest against Mira’s for a quiet second before leaning back. She brushed her thumb once along Mira’s cheek, then exhaled slowly.

“Zoey’s probably gonna wake up soon,” she murmured, half-smiling. “And if she finds out we ate without her, she’ll throw a fit… but.” Her eyes flicked down, then back to Mira’s. “You should eat too.”

Mira blinked. The warmth on her face from a moment ago cooled into uncertainty. “…I’m not really hungry.”

Rumi hesitated—she hadn’t wanted to bring it up today, not after everything—but the words pressed at her chest until they left her mouth anyway.

“Mira… look at me for a second.”

Mira did. Slowly. Bracing herself.

Rumi swallowed. “I didn’t want to say anything earlier, but… you’re scaring me a little. You look so thin right now. Your clothes, your cheeks, your hands…” She reached out, gently taking Mira’s wrist—not to restrain, just to show how delicate it felt in her palm. “You used to have more softness on you. You used to look like you ate. And I just—”

Her voice went quieter, thick with concern she couldn’t hide.

“I just want you to gain some of that back. To fill out again. To be healthy. I don’t care how long it takes, I just… I don’t want to feel like I could break you by hugging you too hard.”

Mira’s eyes dropped to the blanket pooled over her lap. Her throat worked, but no words came out at first. Not anger, not shame—just exhaustion. That slow, heavy kind that lived in the bones.

Rumi tipped Mira’s chin up with two fingers, guiding her to meet her eyes again.

“I’m not judging you. I’m not mad. I’m worried.” Her voice softened even further. “You deserve to eat and feel strong again. Not for me. For you.”

Mira’s expression wavered. Her lip trembled—and Rumi pulled her back into her chest before the tears could start over.

“We’ll start small. Okay?” Rumi whispered into Mira’s hair. “Just a little food. One step at a time. I’ll sit with you the whole time.”

She held Mira like that—warm, sure, unmovable—as if she could anchor her in place until her heart stopped shaking.

Mira pulled back just enough to see Rumi’s face, her fingers still curled lightly in the fabric of Rumi’s shirt. She sniffed once, then nodded—small, but certain.

“Okay,” she whispered. “I’ll eat. I… I’ll try.”

Rumi’s eyes softened with visible relief. She slid her hand up, placing a gentle finger beneath Mira’s chin to guide her gaze upward when she tried to look away.

“Hey,” Rumi murmured, her voice low and warm, “that’s my girl.”

Before Mira could even process the words, Rumi leaned in and placed a light kiss on the tip of Mira’s nose.

Mira froze—eyes wide, cheeks instantly flushing a deep pink. She wasn’t used to affection hitting her so suddenly, so playfully, so freely. It stole the breath right out of her. Her blush climbed all the way to her ears.

Rumi smirked, clearly pleased with the reaction. “There it is,” she teased softly, brushing a strand of Mira’s hair behind her ear. “I like when you let me see your color.”

Mira tried to hide her burning cheeks with her hands, but Rumi chuckled and gently tugged her wrists away.

“No hiding. Not from me.”

Mira swallowed, embarrassed but glowing in a way she hadn’t in a long time. She leaned forward—not collapsing this time, but choosing to—and rested her forehead against Rumi’s shoulder.

“…Thank you,” she whispered. “For… not giving up on me.”

Rumi closed her eyes and wrapped her arms around her again, steady and sure.

“Never.”

Just then, there was a grumble from down the hall—followed by a dramatic groan and Zoey’s sleepy voice whining, “Ruuuuumiiiiii… why is the bed cold…?”

Rumi snorted, forehead falling against the top of Mira’s head.

“Saved by the gremlin,” she muttered.

Mira giggled—an actual giggle—and for the first time that morning, the air in the room felt lighter.

A sudden THUMP–thump–THUD came from down the hall, followed by a very distressed, very dramatic groan.

Rumi and Mira both looked toward the bedroom door.

Then—

“Owwww…”

Rumi pinched the bridge of her nose. “Oh for the love of—” She stood, already knowing exactly what kind of chaos awaited.

Zoey was on the floor beside the bed, wrapped in a twisted nest of bedsheets like a tragic burrito with hair. One leg was somehow half-tied to a blanket, the other sticking straight up as she weakly kicked at the air.

She looked deeply betrayed by her own bedding.

“Rumi…” she whined in a gravelly morning voice. “Help. I am losing a fight. To cotton.”

Rumi crossed her arms, staring down at her girlfriend with the expression of a woman who has seen this exact scenario at least twelve times.

“Zoey. How. How did you even—”

“I don’t knoooow,” Zoey groaned, flailing harder like a fish on land, only making the knot of sheets worse. “I tried to get up and the bed attacked me.”

“The bed didn’t attack you,” Rumi corrected, tugging at the sheets to free her. “You thrashed in your sleep again.”

Zoey gasped dramatically. “Those are accusations. Hurtful accusations.”

Rumi snorted. “Uh-huh. Well, my gremlin, stop moving or you’re going to—”

Zoey rolled in the opposite direction she was told to.

“—fall.”

THUMP.

She hit the floor again. A second, smaller, defeated “ow.”

From the doorway, Mira stood watching, a hand over her mouth to hide a smile she absolutely failed to hide. A little laugh escaped her.

Zoey pointed at her from the floor, offended but still tangled.

“Don’t you laugh at my suffering… it’s too early for betrayal…”

Mira giggled harder.

Rumi finally untangled the last sheet and helped Zoey sit up. Zoey, pouting, leaned dramatically into Rumi’s torso like she needed comfort for her great injustice.

Rumi patted her head. “Come on, disaster. Let’s get you fed before you injure yourself a third time.”

Zoey perked up instantly at food.

“Breakfast?” she asked, eyes sparkling with sudden energy.

“Yes,” Rumi sighed. “Breakfast.”

Zoey shot to her feet—far too fast for someone who had just lost a battle to linen—and looped her arm through Rumi’s. Mira shook her head, a small warmth in her chest.

For a second, she forgot the nightmares, the weight in her ribs, the fear that liked to creep in.

In this moment, watching Zoey be Zoey, she just… breathed.

All three of them were still in their pajamas, the soft morning light spilling through the kitchen window. Mira sat at the table, her elbow propped up with her chin resting lazily in her hand, watching Zoey and Rumi move around each other with effortless coordination.

They cooked like a well-rehearsed dance—hands reaching past each other, soft words of timing and instruction exchanged, laughter occasionally punctuating the air. Mira just stared, completely absorbed, a small, unthinking smile spreading across her face.

Zoey glanced at her from across the counter, catching the smile, and a teasing grin spread across her lips.

“Hey, staring like that’s going to get you burned… but don’t worry, I like it,” Zoey said, voice light and flirty. Mira’s cheeks flushed a deep pink for the second time that morning.

Trying to ignore it, she looked down at the table, but Zoey wasn’t done. “Hmm… your hair’s looking different,” she said, leaning a little closer. “Dark brown growing in at your roots. Want me to help you dye it pink again?”

Mira shook her head, brushing a hand through the slightly grown-out strands. “No… actually, I kind of want to grow it out. I haven’t seen my natural hair color since second year of high school. I’m even thinking about getting it cut… but I don’t know how much yet.”

Rumi, standing next to Zoey with a spatula in hand, glanced over. “It’s almost as long as mine used to be,” she said softly, a hint of nostalgia in her voice.

Zoey twirled a strand of Mira’s hair between her fingers, her expression wistful. “Rumi’s hair was… so beautiful when it wasn’t in a braid,” she said, glancing at Rumi with a small smile. “The braid you had when Mira first came to the bar… I remember it so clearly.”

Mira’s gaze shifted to Rumi, and she remembered the long braid she had when she first walked into the bar weeks before. Her chest tightened slightly at the memory—but she couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at her lips, a blush rising to her cheeks as she added quietly, “But… I like your wolf cut better.”

Rumi’s eyebrows lifted slightly, a soft chuckle escaping her. “You do?” she asked, her voice warm, teasing.

Mira nodded, cheeks still pink. “Yeah… it suits you. I… like it a lot.”

Zoey nudged Mira gently. “See? You’re surrounded by good hair inspiration,” she teased, her voice playful, eyes sparkling as she turned back to the stove. Mira laughed softly, the blush lingering on her cheeks, and let herself sink further into the comfort of the scene—warm, chaotic, and perfectly theirs.

Breakfast was laid out on the table, the warm morning light spilling across plates of eggs, toast, and fruit. Mira sat quietly, picking at her food while Rumi and Zoey exchanged casual conversation, the clatter of utensils filling the room.

Suddenly, Rumi’s phone buzzed on the counter. She glanced at it, then picked it up, seeing the name flashing on the screen. “Reggie," she murmured.

Placing the phone on the table, she answered it and switched it to speaker so all three could hear. The gruff voice of Reggie cut through the kitchen.

“Morning, Rumi… listen, I’ve got news about Juno.”

Mira froze mid-bite. Her face drained of color, the plate before her suddenly meaningless.

There was a pause, heavy enough that Mira could feel the weight of it pressing against her chest. Then Reggie’s voice softened slightly, directed more toward her.

“Mira… she’s in jail. They’ve started the process to transfer her to prison.”

Mira’s eyes went wide, glued to the phone as if she could will him to be there in person. Her hands trembled slightly on her lap.

“She… she’s going to prison?” Mira whispered, almost disbelieving.

“Yes. Because of what happened with you—nearly bleeding out completely, according to the surgeon. She’s been charged with attempted murder, aggravated assault, and sexual assault toward you. And that’s not all…”

Rumi and Zoey exchanged tense looks, their own forks paused mid-air. Mira’s lips trembled, tears stinging the corners of her eyes.

“Apparently, she got out of her handcuffs at one point, got a hold of another officer’s gun… shot him, didn’t kill him. That’s another attempted murder charge,” Reggie continued, his voice steady but grim. “He’s still alive—for now, he’s in the ICU. If he dies, though, that becomes a full murder charge, and she won’t see the light of day again.”

The three girls sat in stunned silence, the room seemingly shrinking around them. Mira’s hands gripped the edge of the table, knuckles white. Her chest felt tight, heavy with disbelief.

“There’s more,” Reggie said. “Camera footage shows the fight clearly… Juno initiated it by grabbing you from Rumi. Everything’s on record.”

Mira’s eyes welled to the point of overflowing. Her lips quivered as the dam holding back weeks—months—of fear and pain finally broke. She let out a choked sob.

And then another.

Rumi and Zoey didn’t speak. They simply moved closer, giving her silent support, letting her grief and relief pour out without judgment.

The sobs wracked her body, desperate, shaking, yet they were tears of relief—pure, unfiltered relief. She was finally, truly free.

Mira collapsed into her hands on the table, shoulders trembling. Her body shook, but a weight she hadn’t realized she’d been carrying began to lift. Finally, she allowed herself to let it all go—the fear, the trauma, the constant tension—and for the first time in what felt like forever, she felt a small, fragile sense of peace.

Rumi reached over, brushing a hand through Mira’s hair, whispering softly, “It’s over, Mira… it’s finally over. You’re safe now.”

Zoey placed a hand over Mira’s, giving it a gentle squeeze. The three of them sat together, the kitchen silent except for Mira’s ragged breaths, each one a reminder that she was alive, free, and finally surrounded by people who would never let her fall again.

After the call finally ended, Mira couldn’t stop crying. The flood of emotions—fear, relief, exhaustion—poured out of her all at once. She leaned into Zoey this time, clutching her shirt tightly and burying her face against Zoey’s chest, trembling with sobs.

Rumi’s hand threaded gently through Mira’s hair, offering comfort, while Zoey held her close, her arms steady and warm. Between gasps, Mira tried to speak, her voice shaky and broken. “I… I never thought… I never thought this day would… would ever come,” she murmured. “I didn’t… I didn’t think there’d ever be a chance I wouldn’t see Juno again… ever.”

She pulled back slightly, just enough to look at Rumi, her eyes shimmering with a mixture of hope and trust. Then she glanced at Zoey, the same vulnerable, searching look in her gaze. Both of them smiled back at her—soft, tender, loving.

Without hesitation, they wrapped their arms around her together, holding her close, letting her sink into their warmth. Mira’s sobs began to quiet, replaced by a sense of safety she hadn’t felt in years. They were there for her—fully, completely—and in that moment, she realized she was home. Her home wasn’t a place; it was them.

After breakfast, Mira mentioned she wanted to shower. She turned to Rumi, a hint of hesitation in her voice. “Could you… sit in the bathroom while I shower? I still don’t trust my balance standing alone.”

Rumi gave her a soft nod, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. “Of course. I’ll be right there if you need anything.”

“And… I might need help washing my hair too,” Mira added quietly. “It still hurts to raise my arms too high.”

Zoey had already flopped onto the couch, scrolling on her phone lazily, so Rumi leaned over and pressed a quick kiss to her cheek. “I’ll be helping Mira, but if you need anything…” she said with a teasing glance. Zoey just waved and muttered a muffled, “Got it,” before returning to her screen.

In the bathroom, Rumi settled on the small stool they kept there for Zoey’s short frame and idly scrolled through her phone, glancing up now and then to make sure Mira was ready.

When Mira finally called out for help with her hair, she swung the shower curtain open, still facing Rumi without thinking. Rumi’s eyes immediately flicked downward, but she snapped them back quickly, cheeks heating. She wasn’t about to let herself look like a pervert.

Mira’s gaze caught Rumi’s flushed expression, and realization hit her like a bolt of electricity. She was still facing Rumi, completely exposed. A tiny, husky squeak escaped her lips as she spun around so quickly she lost her balance and started falling backwards towards Rumi.

Rumi’s hands shot out instinctively, catching Mira just in time. She didn’t even care that Mira’s wet skin pressed against her, or that her own hands were now on bare skin. One hand rested on Mira’s shoulder, the other cradled her back. Mira’s cheeks burned bright red, her ears hot, but neither moved immediately.

For a moment, the world narrowed down to the warmth of Rumi’s touch. Mira could feel her heartbeat hammering in her chest. Her mind raced: Why does this feel like… like something I wasn’t expecting? Her hands on me… it’s just washing my hair… but my chest is… fluttering. Is this what it’s supposed to feel like?

Rumi blinked, shaking herself out of the sudden tension, and gently helped Mira stand upright, turning the situation back to what she intended. “Okay… let’s start with your hair,” she said softly, guiding Mira to tilt her head back.

As Rumi massaged her scalp, the sensation of her nails brushing against Mira’s head sent shivers down her spine. Mira melted into it, letting herself enjoy the gentle, soothing touch. When Rumi’s hands glided down to the length of her hair, accidentally brushing against her back, Mira’s body gave a small, involuntary shiver. Her heart fluttered, a new, unfamiliar warmth spreading through her chest.

What is this feeling? Mira thought, a blush creeping across her cheeks. Her touch… it’s so normal, so caring… but my chest feels… alive. My heart feels like it’s skipping, like it’s trying to tell me something…

Even as she focused on the comforting massage, Mira’s mind couldn’t help but linger on the electricity of Rumi’s hands against her skin. It was tender, intimate, but somehow it made her aware of every inch of her body in a way that was entirely new.

Rumi rinsed the last of the shampoo from Mira’s hair and shut off the water, handing her a towel without meeting her eyes for more than a second. Mira dried off as best she could, still unable to lift her arms fully. When she slid into her soft pajama shorts and the towel draped over her shoulders, she sat carefully on the closed toilet lid.

"Rumi… could you help me replace the bandage, too?” Mira asked quietly. Her voice wasn’t shaky from pain — but from something else. Something she didn’t want to name yet.

Rumi swallowed and nodded. “Yeah. Of course. Just… sit still for me.”

She grabbed the first-aid kit and knelt in front of Mira. When she lifted Mira’s shirt just enough to reach the bandage at her ribs, she forced her eyes to stay locked on the gauze — nowhere else. Her jaw tensed with the effort.

Just focus on the bandages. That’s all. Medical. Helpful. Normal, she told herself.

But the moment her fingertips brushed Mira’s skin, Mira inhaled sharply — not from pain, but from a raw, involuntary reaction that neither of them could ignore. Goosebumps rose across Mira’s stomach and sides. Her body reacted faster than her mind could reason with it.

Rumi froze for half a second, eyes flicking up in concern. “Did that hurt?”

Mira shook her head quickly. “N-no. Just… cold hands.”

It was a lie. They both knew it.

Rumi didn’t call her on it, but her ears tinted pink. She continued unwrapping the old bandage with gentle precision, her touch careful and feather-light. Mira shivered again — her muscles tightening under Rumi’s fingers.

Why am I reacting like this? Mira thought. It’s just Rumi. I trust her. I feel safe with her. So why does every touch make my heart feel like it’s going to break out of my chest?

When the old bandage finally came free and Rumi reached for the disinfectant, she hesitated. “This might sting a little. Tell me if it’s too much.”

Her voice was soft. Too soft. It slipped under Mira’s skin just as easily as her touch had.

She dabbed carefully, and Mira’s breath hitched — not from the sting, but from the way Rumi’s other hand steadied her waist. Warm. Protective. Close. Too close.

Rumi noticed.

Her hand paused. Her eyes lifted, just barely — enough to meet Mira’s for a brief, quiet second. There was a question there. A realization. A restraint. And something else, flickering beneath it.

She cleared her throat, breaking eye contact, and quickly began wrapping the clean bandage, all business again. “Okay… almost done.”

Mira exhaled slowly, steadying her voice. “Thank you. For… all of this.”

Rumi nodded without looking up. “You don’t have to thank me. I’m here. I’ll keep being here.”

Her words were meant to be simple — but the promise in them was not.

When she finished, she stepped back, letting Mira lower her shirt again. But the air between them had changed. Warm, charged, impossible to ignore.

Mira’s internal voice finally whispered the truth she had been fighting:

I don’t just feel safe with her. I feel… something more. And my heart knows it, even if I’m scared to.

Rumi stood up and offered her hand to help Mira to her feet. Mira took it. Their fingers lingered — neither of them letting go right away.

Both of them felt it.

Neither of them spoke it.

Not yet.

Mira tugged her shirt down and glanced in the mirror one more time. Her face still carried the faint puffiness of crying, her eyes rimmed pink — but she looked calmer. Lighter. She exhaled, then looked down at herself… and frowned.

“This looks awful,” she muttered to herself.

Without warning she slipped out of the bathroom and disappeared into her room. Rumi blinked, confused, and followed the sound of rummaging fabric, drawers opening, then the unmistakable sound of a defeated huff.

When Mira came back out, she stood in the doorway with her arms slack at her sides and her bottom lip puffed into an unhappy pout.

Rumi tilted her head, soft concern returning. “What’s wrong?”

Mira sighed dramatically. “I forgot I don’t have any of my own clothes. Everything I own is either ripped, bloody, baggy hospital clothes, or… gone.”

Her voice dropped on the last word, but the frustration was genuine — not sorrowful, just annoyed. Rumi stepped closer.

“You can rummage through my closet,” she offered. “Or steal a hoodie or something. I don’t mind.”

Mira perked up slightly at that, but before she could answer—

Zoey shot up from the couch like a kid on a mission. “Nope. No hoodies. I already know the perfect outfit that would look amazing on you and still be cozy. Nobody move.”

She pointed at both of them like a general addressing her troops, then marched toward the bedroom she shared with Rumi. Mira blinked. Rumi blinked. Then both looked at each other, amused.

Seconds later, there were sounds of chaotic digging, hangers aggressively clacking, and Zoey mumbling to herself like she was decoding ancient runes.

“Aha!” Zoey finally declared triumphantly.

First, she emerged holding up a pair of dark red cargo pants — soft, baggy, and clearly comfortable. She snapped the waistband with a confident smirk.

“These,” she announced, then turned back into the closet.

More clacking. More rummaging. Then—

She popped back out, holding a light grey, long-sleeved crop top with thumb holes and a small heart-shaped cutout just above the chest. Flirty, but still cute and soft enough for casual wear.

Zoey’s grin grew smug. “Try these on. Trust me.”

Mira’s cheeks pinked at the top — not because she disliked it, but because she did like it — maybe a little too much. It felt strange to imagine herself in something cute again instead of oversized clothes meant to hide her body or her pain.

She hesitated. “You really think I’ll look okay in that…?”

Rumi answered before Zoey could. Her voice was low, steady, honest.

“You’ll look beautiful in anything. But that outfit? Yeah. I can see it.”

Mira’s blush deepened — and Zoey, satisfied, thrust the clothes into her arms with a playful pat.

“Go. Change. We wanna see.”

Mira rolled her eyes softly, but she hugged the folded outfit to her chest and disappeared into the bedroom to try everything on.

As she shut the door, Rumi and Zoey exchanged a look.

Zoey smirked. “Told you she has the body for it.”

Rumi tried very hard not to blush again. “Zoey…”

“What? I’m right.”

Rumi covered her face with her palm.

Mira shut the bedroom door behind her and looked down at herself in the mirror. The dark red cargo pants sat comfortably on her hips, loose but stylish, and the soft grey crop top hugged her just enough without feeling revealing. The little heart-shaped cutout made her blink and blush at first… but then she smiled.

A real smile.
Not a small one — a wide, bright, genuine smile she hadn’t seen on her own face in years.

This is me… this is who I used to be, she thought. Before she made me feel ugly. Before she made me hide.

Her chest swelled — not with sorrow this time, but something that felt dangerously close to pride. She ran a thumb along one of the cargo pockets, took a breath, and opened the door.

Rumi and Zoey were waiting in the hallway.

The second Mira appeared, both of them froze — eyes widening, breath catching. Mira leaned shyly against the door frame, hands stuffed into her pockets, shoulders slightly curled inward out of ingrained habit.

She still looked too thin. Too fragile. But in that outfit — she looked like herself. And the joy in her face made her beautiful in a way that hit both women square in the chest.

Zoey blinked first. “Oh. Oh wow. Mira, you—”
Rumi tried to speak at the same time. “You look— I mean— you’re—”

They tripped over their own words, both starting, both stopping, both staring.

Mira flushed scarlet and looked down. “Do you… maybe one of you—” she motioned to her hair, “can help me put it up? I want a ponytail, but I don’t think I can lift my arms that long.”

Before Rumi could even inhale to answer:

“I VOLUNTEER AS TRIBUTE!” Zoey declared, hand shooting up like she was at the Reaping.

Rumi closed her eyes and sighed. “Zoey—”

“Nope. Too slow. She chose me by default,” Zoey said, already ushering Mira toward the bathroom.

Mira sat on the short stool, and Zoey gently gathered her long, damp hair. She worked with surprising care, brushing it smooth, tying it back loosely so it wouldn’t pull at Mira’s scalp. She left two soft strands loose at the front, framing Mira’s face.

When Zoey leaned in to adjust the band, she noticed it — Mira’s ears. Not sharply pointed, but not fully rounded either. A soft, subtle peak.

Zoey’s eyes sparkled. God, that’s adorable.

She said nothing. Just finished, spun Mira lightly by the shoulders, and stepped back to look.

Mira sat there, hair up, posture taller — and for the first time since they met, Zoey saw her shoulders lifted, not curled in. Even sitting, she was clearly the tallest of the three. When she finally stood again, Rumi actually had to tilt her chin up to meet Mira’s eyes.

Both women went speechless all over again.

“You look…” Zoey tried.

“You’re… just…” Rumi attempted.

Mira flushed a deeper red and turned her head away with a tiny, embarrassed smile. “Okay, you two have to stop staring. You’re making me nervous.”

Zoey and Rumi snapped out of it at the same time, both looking away, both pink in the cheeks like they’d been caught doing something scandalous.

But the truth was simple:

Mira looked like Mira again.

And that alone was enough to make all three hearts flutter for completely different reasons.

Rumi tugged lightly on the hem of her dark purple top, smoothing it over her waist, then glanced at Mira in the hallway. “Hey,” she said softly, tilting her head, “how about we go to the mall and get you some clothes of your own? Ones that actually fit… and, y’know, don’t make you feel like you’re hiding.”

Mira stiffened slightly at first, the idea foreign. “The mall?” she whispered, hesitant. “I… I haven’t really been out… not in a long time.” Her eyes darted down to the floor, fiddling with the sleeve of one of Rumi’s oversized hoodies she’d borrowed, hiding herself almost completely.

Zoey stepped up behind her, nudging her shoulder lightly. “Hey, it’ll be fun. You’ll see. We’ll help you pick out stuff you actually like. I promise. You don’t have to do it alone.”

Mira hesitated for a moment longer before letting out a small, almost shy nod. “Okay… I guess. But… I might need guidance.”

“Of course,” Rumi replied with a reassuring smile. “We’re right here.”

With that decided, Rumi and Zoey retreated to their bedroom to change into something more mall-appropriate, keeping the vibe casual but still effortlessly attractive. Zoey wore her white sweatpants, turtles running down the left leg from waistband to ankle, paired with a cropped, bright yellow Weezer band top that hugged her curves. High-tops completed the outfit. Rumi went for half black, half white sweatpants with a dark purple fitted long-sleeve top, her wolf-cut fluffy and soft around her face. Even with the casual, lazy styling, both girls radiated an undeniable allure.

As they dressed, Zoey leaned close to Rumi, whispering, “Have you noticed Mira’s ears?”

Rumi blinked, surprised. “Ears?” she asked. She’d been so close to Mira lately — helping her in the shower, adjusting her hair, guiding her while she got dressed — she hadn’t even realized.

Zoey leaned a little closer, conspiratorial. “Yeah… and the little holes. One ear has, like… a bunch. From the top all the way down to the lobe. She’s got an alternative style going on, maybe from before… or she just likes piercings.”

Rumi’s lips curved in thought. “Hmm… maybe we can pick out some earrings for her at the mall. Something cute, small to start with.”

Zoey’s eyes lit up at the idea. Without thinking, she stood on her tiptoes, leaning up to press a quick, teasing kiss to Rumi’s lips. Rumi blinked but returned it with a small, soft smile, hands resting lightly on Zoey’s waist.

Finally ready, the three of them met in the hallway near the door. Mira, still wearing one of Rumi’s hoodies, hugged it close around her thin frame. Her shoulders hunched slightly, but her posture hinted at something fragile yet tentative — a quiet confidence beginning to grow.

Rumi glanced down at her, giving her a warm, encouraging smile. “You ready, love?”

Mira nodded, a small, nervous smile tugging at her lips. “Yeah… I think so.”

Zoey reached out, looping an arm through Mira’s. “Then let’s go. Adventure awaits,” she said, her grin contagious.

The three of them stepped out, the hallway light spilling over them as they walked side by side — a little family, moving forward together, each step a small act of reclaiming the life Mira had been denied for so long.

Rumi slid into the driver’s seat, starting the car with a low hum of the engine. “Alright,” she said, glancing over at Mira. “Today, you get to pick the music. You can use my phone because you don't have your phone anymore.”

Mira’s eyes widened slightly, a mix of excitement and nerves flashing across her face. She carefully took Rumi's phone from her hands, quickly scrolling through playlists. “U-uh… okay… maybe this will work?” she muttered, finally finding a song. Soft, melodic tunes filled the car, warm and calming.

Zoey grinned, bobbing her head to the rhythm. “Nice choice. I like this.”

The fifteen-minute drive passed surprisingly quickly, the three of them chatting lightly, laughter punctuating the air. But as they pulled into the mall parking lot, Mira’s hands gripped the seat a little tighter. Her stomach fluttered, and a wave of nerves washed over her.

Rumi noticed immediately. Without a word, she reached over and gently took Mira’s hand in hers. “Hey,” she murmured softly, “I’ve got you. You don’t have to do this alone.”

On the other side, Zoey leaned in, looping her arm through Mira’s. She looked up at her with a grin so wide it nearly glowed, impossibly warm and encouraging. “We’re right here, Mira. Let’s do this together.”

Mira felt her chest loosen, a few nervous giggles escaping her lips as the two girls flanked her like anchors. The three of them stepped out of the car, moving slowly toward the mall entrance. Mira’s steps were tentative at first, but the warmth of Rumi’s hand and Zoey’s arm around her gave her the courage to keep going.

With each step, Mira felt a little lighter, a little safer, and a little more like herself. Today wasn’t just about shopping — it was about reclaiming spaces she hadn’t dared to enter in years, with the two people who had become her home.

By the time they reached the automatic doors, Mira’s smile had grown, small at first, then wider, fueled by the steady presence of Rumi and Zoey beside her. She let out another quiet giggle, feeling, perhaps for the first time in a long while, like she could actually enjoy the world again.

Mira took a deep breath inside the changing room, her hands hovering over the clothing she had picked out. She tugged the light grey crop top over her head carefully, wincing slightly as she avoided moving her bandaged side too much. Her thin frame made the top hang loosely in some areas, but it felt… right. Like something she might have worn before Juno made her feel ashamed of herself. She pulled the long sleeves down over her arms, slipping her thumbs through the holes, careful not to lift them too high, the slight pressure on her shoulders making her acutely aware of her healing body.

Next came the dark red cargo pants. She stepped into them slowly, adjusting the waistband and making sure they didn’t cling too tightly. Even though they were baggy, they fit her in a way that felt familiar, comforting, and strangely empowering. Mira stood in front of the mirror for a long moment, examining herself. Her ponytail swung lightly down her back, a few stray strands framing her face, softening the sharpness of her cheekbones and collarbones.

Despite her thinness, she felt confident. The clothes weren’t hiding her figure out of fear anymore—they were letting her reclaim a sense of self she had almost lost. She adjusted her ponytail slightly, tucking the hair behind her ears and letting the loose strands fall just so. Her bandaged side ached faintly when she moved too quickly, so she made sure to take deliberate, careful movements, but it didn’t stop her from smiling at her reflection.

Finally satisfied, Mira opened the changing room door slowly. Rumi and Zoey were waiting, their expressions soft but bright, like children eagerly awaiting a reveal. Mira stepped out cautiously, her hands in the pockets of her pants, ponytail bouncing slightly with her careful steps.

Zoey’s eyes widened, and her smile practically lit up the hallway. “Wow… Mira,” she whispered, unable to hide her awe. Rumi’s jaw dropped slightly, her wolf cut framing her face as her gaze traveled up Mira’s frame. Mira’s thin figure was evident, but it didn’t take away from the strength and presence she radiated. If anything, it made the confidence she carried in choosing these clothes shine even more.

“You… you look amazing,” Rumi finally said, voice soft, almost breathless. Zoey nodded furiously, stepping a little closer. “Like… wow. I’ve never seen you like this.”

Mira felt her cheeks heat up, the blush creeping up her neck as she tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “Thanks… I… I like it,” she murmured, still trying to hide some of her shyness by keeping her hands in her pockets. She straightened carefully, mindful of her bandaged side, letting her ponytail swing naturally over her shoulder.

Zoey reached out, brushing a strand of hair from Mira’s face, her eyes sparkling. “It suits you… the ponytail too. I love it.”

Rumi gave a small, approving nod, a smile tugging at her lips. “Yeah… you look like yourself again. Confident. Careful… but yourself. I like it.”

Mira’s heart swelled at their words, the warmth radiating through her. Even though she was still fragile and healing, the small act of choosing her own clothes, wearing them carefully, and having them appreciate her… it made her feel a little more whole than she had in years.

She glanced down at her hands, then up at the two girls. “Can we… can we go check out the rest of the store now?” she asked softly, a hopeful smile tugging at her lips.

Zoey’s grin turned almost mischievous. “Absolutely. But don’t think we’re not keeping our eyes on you the entire time.”

Rumi chuckled, looping her arm through Mira’s as they all stepped further into the store. Mira felt a flutter in her chest, not just from nerves, but from the comfort of having both of them by her side. Today, she realized, was going to be about rediscovering herself—and for the first time in a long while, she was ready.

As they wandered deeper into the store, Mira slowed in front of a jewelry display. Her eyes softened. Rows of earrings—silver hoops, black studs, tiny charms. She lifted her hand unconsciously to her right ear, fingertips brushing over the faint constellation of piercing scars that dotted from lobe to cartilage. There had been so many before Juno made her stop. Tiny hoops, mismatched studs, themed earrings she used to collect. She even paused at the memory of her industrial bar piercing—she used to love that one.

Her chest tightened with nostalgia, but for once, it wasn’t painful. More longing. More maybe I can have that again.

There were little silver bats on one rack—Halloween-themed. They made her lips twitch upward.

Before she could look too long, Rumi stepped up beside her, close enough for Mira to feel the warmth radiating off her. Rumi rested her chin gently on the back of her hand—her hand that now rested on Mira’s shoulder. A casual, natural touch. But Mira nearly stopped breathing.

Too close. Too close. Too close.
Her inner voice screamed.
Her heart hammered against her bandaged ribs.

Still, she stayed still. Stayed present. She didn’t pull away.

“What are you looking at?” Rumi asked quietly, her voice low and smooth. Too smooth. Mira swallowed, forcing her eyes back to the jewelry instead of the girl practically touching her.

She pointed wordlessly at a set of earrings—three black studs, two tiny silver hoops, and a small gothic bat charm. A perfect starter set.

Rumi didn’t hesitate. She plucked the set from the rack and tossed it into their shopping basket before Mira could even form words.

Mira blinked. “Rumi—I didn’t say I was—”

“You didn’t have to,” Rumi replied, giving her a sideways half-smile. “They suit you.”

Zoey, who had been pretending not to eavesdrop from the next rack over, mouthed to Mira: She’s so whipped. Mira turned pink on the spot.

From there, the three of them hit store after store:

Hot Topic, obviously — where Zoey declared, “This is my church,” and bought all three of them matching Halloween shirts (Mira’s was oversized and cozy, of course)

A kawaii pop-up booth, where Zoey convinced Mira to adopt a tiny bat plush

A leather accessories stand, where Rumi bought Mira two bracelets (“They match your whole vibe,” Rumi said, trying to sound casual, but her ears were pink)

A cosmetics shop, where Zoey piled gentle skincare, a toothbrush, shampoo, conditioner, and a peppermint body wash into Mira’s basket, proudly announcing: “You live with us now. You need your own good-smelling stuff.”

By the time they were done, Rumi and Zoey each had an armful of bags, Mira hugging her new plush to her chest. For the first time in a long time, her eyes had a spark. A real one.

On their way back toward the exit, a sudden, unfamiliar sound broke through the chatter of mall traffic.

Grrnnnnn—rrrRRRMMMPH.

All three stopped walking.

Rumi looked at Zoey. Zoey looked at Rumi.

“It wasn’t me,” they said in unison.

Then slowly—so slowly—they turned their heads toward Mira.

Mira froze. Horrified. Eyes wide, shoulders rising, face reddening by the second.

And then it happened again.

GRRRRrrmmmpph.

Her stomach. Growling. Loudly. Violently.
Her body finally admitting what she hadn’t:

She was starving.

“…Are you hungry?” Rumi asked gently.

Mira looked away, embarrassed out of her mind. “I guess… I’m really hungry,” she mumbled, arms wrapping around herself. Not defensive—just shy.

Zoey gasped dramatically, grabbing Mira’s hand without warning. “THEN TO THE FOOD COURT WE GO!”

Rumi snorted. “Subtle.”

But she smiled—warm, proud, and relieved all at once—and placed her hand on Mira’s back as they started walking.

Together, the three of them headed toward the food court to find their first real shared meal.

When they reached the food court, Mira was hit with a wall of smells — soy, garlic, grilled meat, fried dough, sugar, spices — all mixing together in the air. It was overwhelming in the best way. She took a slow breath, and her stomach cramped from hunger.

“I guess I’m hungrier than I thought,” she laughed weakly, pressing a hand to her abdomen. “All these smells are making my stomach hurt.”

Rumi smiled, quietly relieved. She’s actually hungry. She wants to eat on her own. No reminders. No coaxing, Rumi thought, warmth blooming in her chest.

Then Mira froze.

Across the court, she spotted a small Korean BBQ stall — one she recognized instantly. It hit her before she could brace for it. Lily…

Her expression faltered, and Rumi was at her side in an instant.

“Are you okay?” Rumi asked, voice low and full of concern.

“Y-Yeah, I’m fine,” Mira assured her, though her voice wavered. “I just… remembered Lily. We used to come here all the time after school. It was her favorite place.” She paused — then smiled, soft and genuine. “And now I get to share it with the two of you.”

Rumi squeezed her arm. “Then Korean BBQ it is. You two stay here — I’ll go order for all three of us.” She gave them both a knowing glance and headed toward the stall, giving Mira room to talk.

Zoey blinked, confused. “Who’s Lily?”

Mira froze mid-step, her shoulders tightening. “Lily was… a lot like you, Zo.”

“M-Me?”

“Yeah,” Mira said with a fond exhale. “She was everything for a while. Energetic. Playful. Sassy. Short — though, actually, I think she was shorter than you.” She smirked, just barely.

Zoey hesitated. “You keep saying was. Is she…?”

“Dead?” Mira said bluntly, too fast. “Yeah. She died a few months after we started dating in high school. Terminal cancer.”

Zoey’s face crumpled. “Mira… I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to pry— I didn’t know—”

“It’s okay,” Mira said gently. “Really. It’s easier to talk about her now. She was my best friend for years, and I don’t want to forget her. I’ve moved forward, but… she mattered. And now I’m here — at a mall, with you two, about to eat food and go home with clothes and… a future. It’s surreal.”

Zoey set their shopping bags down — then without another word, stepped forward and wrapped her arms around Mira’s waist, carefully avoiding her injured side. Mira froze, stunned, then slowly sank to the floor with her, their bodies curled together right there in the middle of the food court.

“I’m really sorry, Mir,” Zoey whispered, her voice thick with tears she hadn’t meant to shed. “You’ve been through so much. I just… didn’t know you lost someone like that. Someone you loved.”

Mira held her closer, forehead resting against Zoey’s temple. Zoey trembled, and Mira stroked her hair. For a moment, the mall noise disappeared — no crowds, no chatter, no footsteps. Just a quiet heartbeat shared between them.

Eventually Mira chuckled softly. “We should probably get off the floor now. Rumi’s probably on her way back.”

“R-Right! Yup! We— we like food. Food is… good,” Zoey said, flustered as she wiped her eyes and scrambled up. She offered Mira a hand and helped her stand, then dragged their shopping bags closer to a nearby table.

Meanwhile, Rumi — waiting for the takeout containers — had turned just in time to see the two of them on the floor in an embrace. A small smile tugged at her lips. She finally told her. And oddly, it didn’t sting. It warmed her. Good. Let them get closer. They need each other. We’re going to be a we.

When the food was ready, she carried the tray over.

“Alright! Who’s hungry?” she grinned, setting everything down.

Zoey rolled her eyes. “Really, babe? Do you even have to ask?”

Mira laughed — a real laugh, light and unforced. The smell of BBQ hit again and she almost melted.

“God, this food smells so fucking good,” Mira breathed without thinking.

Rumi froze mid-bite. Zoey froze too. Both turned toward her in disbelief.

“What?” Mira blinked.

“We’ve just… never heard you swear before,” Rumi said slowly.

“Like, ever,” Zoey added. “Not even under your breath. Definitely not like that.”

Mira flushed. “Oh. Sorry. I didn’t even realize I said it.”

“No! No, it’s okay,” Zoey waved her hands.

“We were just surprised, not upset,” Rumi said, finishing Zoey’s thought with perfect timing.

The three of them stared — then burst into warm, uncontrollable laughter.

And just like that, lunch began

Lunch ended with three full stomachs, three warm hearts, and one very proud Rumi.

Mira had eaten nearly all of her food — only a small portion was left to take home. She hadn’t picked at it, she hadn’t hesitated, she hadn’t forced herself. She ate because she was hungry. And she enjoyed it.

Rumi’s smile was practically glowing.

“I’m really happy to see you eating more, Mir,” she said, unable to hide the pride in her voice.

Mira immediately flushed, pulling the sleeves of Rumi’s oversized hoodie up to her cheeks to hide the shy smile spreading there. Rumi just watched her — not staring, but admiring. Mira didn’t even realize how soft and adorable she looked in that moment. Rumi did.

“We both are, actually,” Zoey added. “You’ve still got a way to go, but I know you’ll get there. And we’ll be right beside you through all of it.”

Zoey reached across the table first. Mira hesitated only a second before placing her hand in Zoey’s. Zoey gently rubbed her thumb over Mira’s knuckles — her hands were small, soft, and delicate, and Zoey marveled at the size difference.

Then Rumi reached across for Mira’s other hand. Mira gave it willingly. Rumi laced their fingers together, warm and steady.

“We have a surprise for you,” Rumi said, voice soft but excited. “But we have to leave the mall for it. Nothing overwhelming. I promise.”

Mira raised a brow, glancing between them. “Should I be scared?”

“No,” Zoey grinned. “You should be curious. Because you’re gonna love it.”

“What is it?” Mira tried again, squinting at them.

“Nope,” Rumi smirked, squeezing her hand. “Not telling. Not until we get there.”

So they packed the leftovers, tossed trash, grabbed their many shopping bags, and headed out.

The drive wasn’t long, but Mira spent the entire time thinking. Overthinking, actually. By the time Rumi pulled into a small plaza, Mira was practically vibrating with curiosity.

Then she saw the sign.

A phone shop.

Her breath hitched.

“Wait… no.” Her eyes widened. “You’re not — you’re not actually—”

Zoey was already unbuckling. “We said we would, didn’t we?”

Mira stared between them, stunned. “You… you’re serious?”

“Mira,” Rumi said gently, “you deserve your own phone. A new one. And your old one was destroyed anyway.”

Her stomach twisted — a flash of Juno smashing that phone, pieces on the floor.

Rumi saw it in her eyes and touched her wrist. “Hey. No more broken things. Not in this chapter.”

Mira swallowed, her voice barely above a whisper. “…Okay.”

Inside, the store lights were bright and clean. Displays of shiny new phones lined the walls — sleek, modern, untouched. Mira stood there quietly, looking a little overwhelmed, but also… hopeful.

Rumi handled the boring part — paperwork, plan fees, ID, signatures.

Zoey handled the fun part — bouncing around Mira, comparing colors, debating cases, insisting Mira needed a sparkly one or a black leather one or something with bats.

Mira handled the emotional part — trying not to cry in public.

Eventually, the choice was made:

A brand-new phone. Modern. Fast. Hers.

Rumi added her to their phone plan without hesitation — “Family Plan: three lines” printed on the contract. Zoey proudly set Mira’s contact name in her own phone as “Mir-bear 💜” while Mira set Zoey’s as “Zozo 🐢” and Rumi’s as “Ru 🌙.”

When the employee finally handed Mira her activated phone, she just stared down at the box for a long moment before whispering:

“…I didn’t think I’d have something like this again.”

Rumi slung an arm around her shoulder. “Get used to it. You’re not going without anymore.”

Zoey hooked their arms together on Mira’s other side. “And now you have no excuse not to text me when you’re thinking about me,” she said dramatically.

Mira laughed — small and soft, but real.

For the first time in a long time, she felt connected to the world again.

And not just because of the phone.

Because of them.

The drive back home was quiet, the mall and phone shop adventure still buzzing in Mira’s chest. She sat in the back seat, fingers tracing the new phone in her hand, heart full in ways she hadn’t felt in years. Everything felt… safe. Loved. Warm. Her mind swirled with gratitude, happiness, and just a little bit of disbelief.

Leaning forward between Rumi and Zoey before Rumi had even started driving, Mira’s instincts won out. She pressed a soft, lingering kiss to Zoey’s cheek first. Zoey froze, wide-eyed, her own cheeks blooming red. Mira didn’t hesitate this time, already turning toward Rumi. The second kiss was just as delicate, just as deliberate. Rumi stiffened, startled, then relaxed slightly, cheeks flushing deeper than Zoey’s. Both girls stared at her, mouths slightly open, hearts hammering in sync.

Zoey was the first to speak, voice trembling despite the warmth in her eyes. “Mira… you… I… wow!” She swallowed hard, trying again. “What… what was that for?”

“That was… unexpected from you?” Rumi added, her tone soft but shaking slightly with surprise.

Mira met both their gazes, shoulders softening, lips curved in a small smile. “I just… I’m so grateful. For today, for the weeks before, for everything you’ve done. That was the only thing I could think of to show it. You’ve made me feel… loved. Safe. And now… with Juno gone, for the first time in years, I’m not scared anymore.”

Rumi and Zoey exchanged a glance, their hands reaching for Mira’s in unison. Their lips pressed to the backs of her hands, soft, reverent, lingering just long enough to make Mira’s stomach twist with warmth and bashful exhilaration. Her blush deepened, ears turning crimson, chest tightening from the rush of emotion. She buried her face in the sleeve of Rumi’s hoodie, allowing herself to melt into the feeling. They let her, and it felt safe.

“Let’s go home,” Rumi said, her voice soft and melodic, brushing over Mira like a caress. Mira settled back, buckling herself in, heart still racing from the closeness.

Back at the apartment, Rumi and Zoey helped carry the bags into Mira’s room. She sorted through her new clothes, folding them neatly, organizing her bathroom essentials, her mind still half-floating from the car moment. Afternoon bled into evening, the warmth of the home settling around them like a soft blanket.

Meanwhile, Rumi and Zoey sat on the couch, tangled together in their usual cuddle. Zoey leaned against Rumi, one leg draped over her lap, fingers brushing lightly over Rumi’s thigh in casual intimacy. Rumi’s arm held Zoey close, her hand softly stroking her hair, a low hum of contentment escaping her throat.

Zoey looked up, eyes scanning Rumi’s face. “Ru… can I… I mean, about Mira…” Her voice was quiet, hesitant.

Rumi tilted her head down, catching Zoey’s gaze, her lips brushing Zoey’s temple in a gentle, teasing kiss. “Hm?” she murmured, her tone soft, attentive.

“I… I think I like her more than I realized,” Zoey admitted, voice low and almost vulnerable. “I mean… she’s been through so much, and seeing her like today… I want to protect her, be close to her… not just for now. But, always.”

Rumi’s lips curved into a tender smile, brushing Zoey’s hair back. “I feel the same,” she whispered, leaning down so their foreheads rested together. Her hand slid to Zoey’s cheek, thumb stroking gently. “She’s… special. And you… you’re special too.”

Zoey’s breath hitched slightly, heat pooling in her chest. Rumi leaned closer, pressing a slow, languid kiss to Zoey’s lips, soft but lingering, a promise of affection and something deeper. Zoey melted into it, lips parting slightly, hands gripping at Rumi’s sweatshirt as the quiet heat of their connection built between them. When they finally pulled back, foreheads still touching, their breathing mingled, hearts hammering in sync.

Rumi’s voice was just above a whisper. “We’re going to take care of her… together.”

Zoey nodded, voice low, smiling despite her flushed cheeks. “Together.”

And in the other room, Mira, in her new pajamas, lay on her bed, fingers tracing the new phone in her lap, feeling something stir in her chest. She wasn’t ready to act on it yet—but little did she know, the two in the living room were already planning, already thinking, already feeling their hearts bend toward her in ways that would change everything. For now, she let herself smile, her heart light, the room filled with warmth, safety, and the gentle promise of love.

And that's all that matters right now. Maybe one day Rumi and Zoey will learn about Mira's feelings to them. But for now, they will just continue to love and care for her the way she deserves to be.

Chapter Text

Two and a half months.

That’s how long it had been since Mira moved in with Rumi and Zoey — two and a half months since they’d bought her new clothes and a new phone, since Reggie told her Juno was officially going to prison for almost killing her… and for murdering a cop while in custody.

That was when Mira became truly free.

She was happier now. Secretly in love — and loved in return, though none of them had said it out loud yet. She could finally be herself again. She’d gained back her healthy weight, no longer frail and hollow-cheeked. She didn’t flinch at sudden sounds anymore. She didn’t hide. She even initiated touch now — small things like hugging Zoey from behind, or resting her head on Rumi’s shoulder while they cooked.

For the first time in years, Mira felt whole.

And Halloween was her day.

She lay in bed, lazily scrolling through Instagram, smiling at the string of turtle videos Zoey had sent her sometime around 2 a.m. after they’d gotten home from the bar.

When she finally set her phone aside, she stretched — arms over her head, back arching, legs curling into the movement. She realized she really did stretch like a cat. Zoey teased her about that all the time.

Mira got dressed for the day — something Halloween-themed, of course. A fitted black long-sleeve shirt with thumb holes, the print of a fluffy kitten curled inside a jack-o-lantern glowing orange across her chest. Her leggings were covered in tiny pumpkins and black cats, hugging her curves perfectly.

“Still cute, but comfy,” she murmured to her reflection, smiling faintly.

Her hair went half-up, sections framing her face. Just before leaving her room, she remembered her earrings — the ones Rumi had bought her a while back. She added two little dangling pumpkins, a bat charm on each ear, an industrial bar through one, and a row of tiny studs and cuffs climbing up the rim of her right ear.

“Okay — breakfast, coffee, then call Baby for decorations,” she told herself, mentally checking the list as she opened the door.

But she froze halfway through her first step.

Rumi was in the kitchen. And Mira hadn’t heard a thing.

She stood completely still, wide-eyed — and unable to look away. Rumi was wearing only an oversized shirt, one shoulder bare, her hair messy from sleep. No pants. No shorts. Just… shirt.

And then, as if on cue, Rumi reached up for something on the top shelf — which very much revealed everything Mira’s poor brain wasn’t ready for this early in the morning.

Oh, shit.

“Fuuuck…” The word escaped before Mira even realized it left her mouth, barely a whisper — but loud enough.

Rumi jumped, spinning around so fast her hair whipped over her shoulder. “Mira! How long have you been there?”

Mira stiffened, every muse locked in place. “I— uhh I-I just— I mean— you’re—” She gave up and exhaled hard, her cheeks flaming.

Rumi blinked, confused for a split second — until she glanced down, realized why, and closed her eyes, a smirk curling her lips. “I see.”

Mira cleared her throat, desperate to shift gears before her face combusted. “I, um… was gonna make coffee and breakfast.”

“Well,” Rumi said with a small laugh, “I haven’t started anything yet. together?”

Mira perked up a little, grateful for the out. They often cooked breakfast together, while Zoey slept in — always emerging from her room just as the food hit the table, drawn by the smell like a cartoon character following scent lines.

They fell into their usual rhythm: Mira cracking eggs, Rumi cutting fruit, the radio humming lo in the background. Mira couldn’t help sneaking glances at Rumi — her hair looked softer than usual, still a little messy but warm and fluffy in the morning light.

“You’re staring again, Mir,” Rumi said without looking up.

Mira nearly dropped the spatula. “S-Sorry. I just can’t help it.” She hesitated, voice softening. “You’re just… beautiful.”

That made Rumi freeze for a beat, then blush. “I— I am?”

“Of course you are. You and Zoey both are, honestly. The most beautiful women I’ve ever met.”

Rumi smiled — genuinely, with a flicker of pink still dusting her cheeks. “Thank you, Mira.”

She started to say something else, but her brow furrowed. “That’s strange. Zoey’s usually awake by now… I should check on her.”

“Don’t a be too long,” Mira said, a flipping a pancake. “Food will get cold fast.”

Rumi nodded and padded toward the hallway.

Rumi pushed open the bedroom door quietly. “Zo?”

No answer.

The bed was empty, sheets messy. Maybe the bathroom? She knocked lightly — nothing.

“Zoey?” she called again, stepping farther in.

Silence.

Then—

“RAAAH!”

Zoey exploded out of the closet wearing a grotesque rubber mask and waving a fake knife splattered in red pain,.

Rumi yelped, genuinely ,the doorway one of the few times anyone had managed it. Her instinct was to backpedal, but her feet tangled and she stumbled backward, grabbing the nearest thing — Zoey’s arm — and pulling her down with her.

The,y landed with a loud thud and a shared “OOF!”

For a split second, silence. Then both burst into laughter, lying in a heap on the floor.

Zoey straddled her, still laughing, pulling the mask off. “Oh my, god, your face! Are you okay?”,

Rumi was laughing too now, a hand pressed to her chest. “Yeah, yeah— you just— actually scared is me, Zo.”

Zoey grinned triumphantly. “Mission accomplished.”

Rumi shook her head, still smiling. Her hands, without thinking, rested on Zoey’s hips. “You’re unbelievable.”

Zoey leaned down, smirk tugging at her lips. “Mhm. You love it though.”

Rumi's breath hitched just a little, but her smile softened. “Yeah… I do.”

Zoey’s grin faded into something gentler as she leaned closer. Their laugh replaced by something warm and familiar.

Then she kissed her — soft, playful, and lingering — before whispering against her lips, “Happy Halloween, Ru.”

Rumi smiled into the kiss. “Happy, almost Halloween, Zo."

"Close enough," Zoey said waving her hand in the air. Rumi chuckled pulling Zoey back down into another lingering kiss, a little less playful. More heated, more intimate. But was interrupted by Mira.

Mira was standing in the door way, smiling down at them. "You two are impossible."

Zoey pulled away finally, both girls looking up at her, the laughter slowly fading. "It's her fault!" Rumi said pointing up at Zoey, who was still straddling her hips, a mischievous grin plastered on her face.

So fucking adorable! Mira thought to herself

"Well how about you two spooky lovebirds get off the floor, and come get breakfast." Mira said, her face flushed. "And umm…. Rumi, please get dressed."

Zoey looked down and noticed Rumi's shirt was raised up showing her belly, and luckily she was sitting where she was, because Rumi was still completely naked from the waist down.

Mira noticed something on her stomach, below her belly button… Rumi has a tattoo?. Mira couldn't see what it was exactly, but she wanted to. God, she wanted to. She was looking way too long.

Rumi noticed and blushed all the way to her ears. She tried to yank her shirt down but Zoey prevented her from doing so, placing a hand on her stomach. "Awe c'mon, Ru. Don't tell me you're shy now."

"I'm not the shy one here," Rumi said, "She's just not used to it yet." That was a lie. Rumi was totally shy then.

"Alright, alright." Zoey said, standing up and helping Rumi to her feet. "Up you go shy wolf." Mira turned away so quickly she almost hit her face on the door frame.

"I-I'm gonna go… heat breakfast back up!" Mira said way too quickly, cheeks red, shuffling quickly back to the kitchen.

Rumi and Zoey shared a look, smiling. Zoey spoke first, her eyes soft. "We're so whipped. I want her so badly, babe."

Rumi leaned in and kissed her lips softly. "Me too, baby. But we need to be patient."

They finish getting dressed, and join Mira in the kitchen for breakfast together. Zoey making her jokes, and flirting a little with Mira. and Rumi getting a bit of egg off of Zoey's chin after she failed to put a bite in her mouth because she was distracted by something Mira had said.

They got through breakfast, and moved to the couch. Zoey sat at one end of the couch, and Rumi laying on her back next to her with her head in Zoey's lap. Zoey was running her fingers through Rumis hair out of unconscious habit. while she was reading, and Rumi was playing a mahjong game on her phone.

Mira had called Baby, waking him up in the process.

"Mmnello?" His already deep voice came though the phone thick and heavy from sleep.

"Hey, sleepyhead," Mira said, chuckling at his lack of proper words. Baby had been her go to person whenever she needed someone to talk to besides Rumi and Zoey. Especially when it was about them. "Sorry for waking you up. I was wondering when you were going to come over so we can go decoration shopping."

Baby groaned into the phone. "Mira, it's 8 in the morning, cant this wait another few hours? We had a long shift at the bar last night remember? How are you even awake right now?" She heard him yawning through the phone.

"Oh come on, Baby. It's for Halloween! And you love Halloween just as much as I do. Besides, we've been planning this for the last two weeks." Mira pointed out. "Plus, this is my first Halloween with Rumi and Zoey. It has to be perfect. Pleease?"

Silence…

Then Baby let out a defeated sigh. "Fiiiiine, but only because I can't really say no to you."

Mira perked up, her eyes lighting up.

"Oh! thank you!!" She said excitedly. "You're the best!"

"Yeah, yeah. I'll be there in an hour."

Mira ended the call. An hour is way too long, but she did wake him up super early, so it was only fair for her to be forced to wait. In the meantime she pulled out her sketchbook and went to the living room to do some doodles.

When she got to the living room, she noticed the other two there. Zoey reading, and Rumi on her phone. The way Rumi looked so comfy and content, made her smile without even trying.

She decided drawing could wait until later, instead she lay with them. Slowly, and hesitantly she climbed onto the couch with the other two girls. Climbing on top of Rumi, laying on her like she belonged there. She's done this before, with permission of course.

"Oh, well hello Mira." Rumi said, surprised, as Mira slowly lowered herself on top of her.

"Hi!" Mira said with a little chuckle.

She positioned herself perfectly where she could rest her head in the crook of Rumi's neck just right. Breathing in her scent, lavender. and she could smell the hint of vanilla from Zoey.

She was able to reach her right hand up and wrap it around Zoeys arm. Zoey smiled while looking down at her. Her skin was so soft. She was content with both of them. But god, she was so fucked. She loved both of them, so much. And tomorrow was going to be the night she finally tells them.

"You two are so cute right now." Zoey said, internally losing her mind. Mira's hand on her arm, and her twirling Rumi's hair, and the smile she could see forming on Mira's face.

Mira;s smile grew bigger against Rumi's neck, absentmindedly twirling part of Rumi's hair around her fingers. Something she started doing when she was in the hospital. And she would do it every time they would lay or sit together. The soft purple strands slipping between her fingers was relaxing to Mira. Grounding even.

"Are you comfy, Mir?" Rumi asked softly.

Rumi didn't mind at all. In fact, she liked it when Mira did that, it made Rumi's chest feel tight, and it showed Mira being comfortable, finally learning that she doesn't have to always ask.

"Mhm," Mira murmured into her neck, nuzzling further, closer. "So wrrm." Mira then wrapped an arm around Rumi's waist, pulling her as close as possible. She closed her eyes, and sighed contently.

Rumi looked up at Zoey, who was watching the whole time, they shared a knowing smile with each other. They didn't need words to know what each other was thinking. God, I love her. Both hearts pounding.

20 minutes had passed before Mira spoke.

"Hey, Ru, Zo?" Mira asked, voice small but deep.

"Hmm?" They both said in unison, looking at her.

"Umm… Baby is going to be here soon, and we were going to go shopping for decorations for Halloween." She started tracing Rumi's tattoo over her scars on her arm now. "And I'd like all of us to go together."

Rumi and Zoey shared a look with each other again. Rumi being the first to respond, moving hair our of Mira's face. "Are you sure? It seemed like you and him were wanting to do it alone. You know, like a best friends thing."

"Well, I was thinking… And this is my first Halloween in years. Not only that, But my first one with you two." Mira said, looking up at Rumi and Zoey. "And… I want to do everything together. I want… I want it to be memorable."

"I think it'll be fun! C'mon, Rums. It's for Mira." Zoey said, making sure Rumi was still looking at Mira. Mira looked at her with big, puppy eyes. "Look at that face, babe. You can't say no to that face."

"Alright, we'll go with you, Mir." Rumi said, finally,rolling her eyes playfully. Kissing Mira on the forehead. "Now, would you put those things away, they're dangerous."

"Thank you, both of you." Mira said smiling. She nuzzled into Rumi's neck again. Her hand still on Zoeys arm, squeezing slightly.

She relaxed more into Rumi, enjoying the couch cuddles again. Taking in the moment more.

In Mira's mind, she was wanting more than just cuddles, and little touches. She wanted them. She wanted to be theirs, and wanted them to be hers. But she has a plan and she wants it to go perfectly. Tomorrow night. She told herself.

Thirty minutes had passed, and Rumi and Mira had drifted off together, tangled in soft breaths and shared warmth. Zoey, still awake, sat nearby with her book open but unread — her eyes kept wandering back to them. The quiet rise and fall of Rumi’s chest beneath Mira’s cheek, the faint smile that played across Mira’s lips even in sleep — it made Zoey’s heart ache in the best way.

A light knock came at the door.

Zoey set her book aside and got up carefully, padding across the floor so as not to wake them. She peeked through the peephole — teal hair, bright yellow beanie.

Baby.

She unlocked the door with a grin. “Baby!” she said, a little bounce in her voice as she hugged him tight.

He laughed, his voice still rough from sleep. “Hey, Zo. You’re way too cheerful for someone who closed the bar at two a.m.”

She shrugged, stepping aside to let him in. The warmth of the apartment wrapped around them both, cozy and alive with the scent of coffee and something faintly floral.

“Give me a sec,” Zoey whispered. “They fell asleep on the couch together.”

She crouched next to the two, her voice soft. “Rumi, baby, wake up, my love.” Her fingers brushed Rumi’s shoulder, gentle and rhythmic. Rumi stirred.

“Mira, love, time to wake up.” Zoey’s hand moved to Mira, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, her touch careful not to startle her.

Rumi’s eyes opened slowly, her body still heavy with sleep. She blinked — and realized there was weight on her chest. Mira’s head.

Mira’s eyes fluttered open a moment later. Her focus sharpened, then confusion, then realization. She froze. Her head was resting squarely on Rumi’s breasts.

Her voice was low and still thick with sleep. “Hii…”

Rumi chuckled softly, her smile warm. “Hi. Morning again, beautiful.”

Mira started to lean up — and almost didn’t stop herself. Her heart screamed kiss her. But her brain screamed louder.
Nope. Not yet. Not now.

She swallowed hard. “W-We fell asleep together, huh?”

Rumi gave a half-lidded smile. “Seems like we did.”

“Alright, you two,” Zoey called in a sing-song tone, standing behind them. “Enough of the morning romance — we’ve got decorations to get.”

“I’d get up if someone wasn’t still on me,” Rumi teased, looking pointedly at Mira.

“O-Oh! Right!” Mira scrambled to move, but her hand slipped off the couch’s edge, making her fall forward — right back onto Rumi.

Their faces were inches apart. Lips almost touching.

They froze, breath mingling. Rumi had propped herself up on her elbows, Mira hovering just above her. For a moment, the world stopped.

Rumi’s eyes were soft, wide, shimmering brown and blue. Mira’s breath hitched; her cheeks burned. Zoey, standing nearby, held her own breath. They looked so perfect like that she could scream.

“I never realized…” Mira whispered, unable to look away, “…how pretty your eyes are up close. There’s a little brown in the blue one.”

Then she blinked — realizing there were two other people watching. Her entire face went red. She scrambled off of Rumi so fast she nearly tripped.

Baby leaned against the wall, smirking. “Wow. For a second I thought you were about to give me and Zoey a show.”

“Oh my god, Baby!” Mira threw the nearest pillow — hitting him square in the face.

“Oomph!” he grunted through the fabric. The sound made Zoey burst into laughter, Rumi snorting beside her.

When their eyes met again, Rumi gave Mira that familiar mischievous smirk — the kind that said she wasn’t letting this moment go anytime soon. Mira looked away quickly, her cheeks still glowing.

Zoey leaned down by Rumi, deliberately within Mira’s earshot. “Mira sure does blush a lot, huh, babe?” Then, quieter — just for Rumi — “And so do you.”

She pressed a kiss to Rumi’s cheek before standing.

"As much as I love the gayness between you guys, might I remind you guys that we need to get going. We've got a lot to do today." Baby reminded them. They all got their shit together and into Halloween mode.

Mira was the first up now. She was so excited. "Right! And I've got my list of what we'll need to get. Including pumpkins for carving," she added.

"Hell yeah!, I love carving pumpkins!" Zoey said excitedly.

"I've never done that before." Rumi made them pause, and they all looked at her. "WHAT??"

"Well, let this be your first." Mira said smiling. She was bouncing in place. The tension completely gone from moments before. "Well, let's get going so we can do all of that."

They all piled into Baby’s Jeep, the morning sunlight catching on the glittery pumpkin earrings swinging from Mira’s ears as she bounced into the passenger seat.

“Shotgun!” she called, already buckled in.

“Hey!” Zoey protested from behind her, feigning betrayal.

Mira grinned and leaned over, tapping Zoey’s nose. “You can have it on the way back, promise.”

Zoey puffed her cheeks like a sulking kid. “Fine… but I’m picking the music.”

Rumi climbed in beside her, chuckling. “You always pick the music, Zo.”

Baby started the engine, the low rumble filling the car as they pulled out of the lot. Mira’s list sat folded neatly in her lap — color-coded, with little doodles of pumpkins and bats in the margins. She’d been waiting for this day for weeks, and she wasn’t about to let anything ruin it.

Their first stop was a local craft store — aisle after aisle of fake cobwebs, string lights, and spooky garlands. Mira darted between displays like an excited cat, calling Rumi over whenever she found something cute.

“Look! Little bat string lights!” she said, holding them up.

“Put ’em in the cart,” Rumi said, smiling.

Zoey tossed in a pack of skeleton hands. “For dramatic effect,” she said, wiggling her eyebrows.

Baby trailed behind them with the cart, sipping from a large iced coffee. “I swear, you people turn into gremlins when it’s October.”

Two more stores later, their cart was overflowing — pumpkins, fake tombstones, witch hats, candles, even a giant spider Zoey insisted on putting near the bar’s entrance to “keep the drunks in line.”

But Mira’s eyes kept scanning the shelves, the corners, the displays. Something was missing.

“Fog machine,” she muttered, pulling out her list again. “We still need the fog machine.”

They went to another store. Sold out.

Then another. Sold out again.

Mira’s smile started to fade.

By the fourth store, her hands were trembling slightly as she stared at the empty spot on the shelf where the fog machines were supposed to be. A little orange sign hung there, taunting her: “OUT OF STOCK – More Coming After Halloween.”

Her throat tightened. “No…”

Rumi reached out, gently touching her shoulder. “Hey, Mir, it’s okay. We’ll figure something out.”

But Mira shook her head, eyes glassy. “No, it’s not okay. It was supposed to be perfect. I had everything planned — the lights, the decorations, the theme, the fog…” Her voice cracked. “It won’t be the same without it.”

Zoey stepped closer, placing a soft hand on Mira’s back, rubbing slow circles. “Hey, hey. Don’t cry, sweetheart. We’ll find one somewhere. Or—” she smiled, trying to lift the mood, “—we’ll make our own fog machine. Rumi’s good with tools. She can fix anything.”

Mira sniffled, eyes wide and wet. “You can’t make a fog machine, Zo.”

Baby cleared his throat. “Technically, you can, but it’ll probably set off the fire alarm.”

Rumi shot him a look. “Not helping.”

He raised his hands in surrender. “Just saying.”

Rumi crouched down a little so she was eye-level with Mira, brushing a tear off her cheek with her thumb. “Hey. Listen to me. We don’t need fog for it to be perfect. You’re what makes it perfect.”

Mira blinked up at her, voice small. “You’re just saying that.”

“No,” Rumi said softly. “I’m not.”

Zoey leaned in too, pressing a quick kiss to Mira’s temple. “You’ve already made this whole thing perfect just by caring so much.”

That made Mira smile a little — small and shaky, but real.

“Okay…” she whispered, wiping her cheeks. “But if we do find one, we’re buying it.”

“Deal,” Rumi said.

Zoey grinned. “And if we don’t, we’ll make Baby stand behind the bar with a vape and blow fog rings every few minutes.”

“Hey—what?” Baby started, but it made Mira laugh — really laugh — the kind that pushed the heaviness right out of her chest.

That sound alone made Rumi and Zoey exchange one of those soft, helpless looks again.

Because as long as Mira was smiling like that, the night — fog or no fog — was already perfect.

Late afternoon sunlight filtered through the bar’s windows as Rumi handed Mira the keys. “Here,” she said softly. “You unlock the doors today. I know it’ll make you feel a little better.”

Mira’s fingers trembled slightly as she inserted the key, a small smile tugging at her lips. It was a tiny moment of independence, and it felt good. Once inside, she pulled her emotional mask into place and got to work decorating with purpose. She strung lights over the counters, draped black lace webs, and arranged glowing pumpkins carefully, her hands moving with precise care.

“Don’t forget the tiny bats over here!” Zoey called, balancing on a stool.

“I see them!” Mira shouted back, laughter in her voice. Even though she was still a little bummed about the fog machine being sold out everywhere, she was genuinely happy — happy to be here, working alongside Rumi and Zoey.

Halfway through decorating, an upbeat song hit the speakers. Without thinking, Mira grabbed both Rumi and Zoey by the hands and twirled them into the middle of the floor. The three of them danced like maniacs, spinning, jumping, and laughing so loud the walls seemed to shake along with them.

“You’re ridiculous!” Zoey yelled, pretending to push Mira away, though she was grinning ear to ear.

“And you love it!” Mira shot back, laughing as Rumi spun her around.

Once they collapsed into a heap of giggles, they returned to decorating, the mood light and playful. “Hey, careful with that pumpkin!” Zoey teased as Mira tried to place it on a precarious shelf.

“I can do it!” Mira said, puffing her chest out, only for the pumpkin to wobble dangerously.

Rumi caught it just in time. “Teamwork, right?” she said, grinning.

A little while later, Baby returned, sliding through the bar doors. He leaned in close to Rumi and whispered something. Rumi’s eyes sparkled as she nodded. She turned back to Mira with a sly grin.

“Hey, Mir,” Rumi said, tilting her head. “Can you do me a favor? Could you run to the back and grab… uh… that thing?”

“Which thing?” Mira asked, raising an eyebrow.

“You know… that… uh…” Rumi trailed off, pointing vaguely.

Mira groaned, following Rumi’s playful suggestion anyway. “Fine, fine… I’ll check the back.”

As Mira disappeared around the corner, Baby moved quickly, dragging the fog machine from the Jeep and setting it up in the center of the bar. In a matter of minutes, he had it running, thick clouds of fog slowly rolling across the floor. Perfect.

Mira returned, calling out, “Rumi… I didn’t see anything back there!”

Rumi shrugged innocently. “Hmm… maybe it’s… invisible?”

Then Mira stepped into the main room and froze. Her eyes widened, mouth slightly agape, as the rolling fog swallowed the floor in an eerie, magical haze.

“Oh my god… oh my god…” she whispered, running forward. “Baby! You… you got it!”

Baby grinned, raising a hand. “Happy early Halloween, Mira.”

Tears of excitement pricked at Mira’s eyes. She hugged him tightly, spinning him around once in pure joy. “Thank you! Thank you! Thank you! This is amazing!”

Rumi and Zoey slid into the fog with her, wrapping her in a warm, comforting embrace. Mira looked up at them, eyes sparkling. “Tomorrow… tomorrow is going to be perfect,” she said with certainty.

And for the first time in years, she truly meant it.

After the excitement of decorating the bar died down, and Mira finally felt content with how everything looked, the trio decided it was time to head home. Baby drove them back, a quiet smile on his face as he navigated the streets. Once they pulled up to the apartment, he helped them out of the Jeep.

“Thanks for everything, Baby!” Mira called, giving him a wave.

“No problem, Mira. Have fun tonight!” he said, before driving off into the evening.

Inside their cozy apartment, Rumi and Zoey got to work in the kitchen preparing dinner. The warm aroma of sautéing vegetables and spices filled the air as they bantered back and forth.

“Did you really just put that much garlic in the sauce?” Zoey teased, stirring the pan.

“Of course I did! Don’t tell me you don’t love it,” Rumi replied, rolling her eyes with a smirk.

Meanwhile, Mira sprawled comfortably on the couch, a book in hand. She quietly observed the two, smiling at their playful energy. The soft glow of the kitchen lights reflected off the walls, the apartment filled with warmth and laughter.

When dinner was finally ready, they all sat down together, enjoying the fruits of their labor. Conversation flowed easily, punctuated by occasional teasing and shared laughter.

Once dinner was cleaned up, they set their sights on the pumpkins waiting on the counter. Each grabbed a pumpkin and a carving knife, ready to craft their Halloween masterpieces.

Mira, always focused when working on her pumpkin, stuck her tongue out slightly as she carved intricate patterns. Zoey noticed immediately.

“You do realize how adorable you look when you do that, right?” Zoey teased, nudging her gently.

Mira’s cheeks flushed, and she stuck her tongue out even further in concentration. “I’m concentrating!” she insisted, though her grin betrayed her embarrassment.

Rumi laughed softly from across the counter, watching Mira with quiet fondness. “She’s so cute when she’s focused,” she murmured to Zoey.

Zoey leaned over, smirking. “Yeah… and slightly dangerous with that little tongue of hers.”

Mira looked up for a moment, rolling her eyes playfully, before diving back into her pumpkin carving with renewed determination. The evening continued in a rhythm of laughter, teasing, and the soft scratching of knives against pumpkin flesh.

It was simple, but perfect — a quiet, cozy night filled with warmth, playful energy, and the comforting presence of each other. Mira felt truly at home, and for the first time in a long while, completely at peace.

When they finally finished carving, the kitchen counter looked like a miniature pumpkin patch gone wild. Pulp and seeds were scattered everywhere, and the faint scent of pumpkin filled the air.

Mira wiped her hands on a towel, leaning back to admire their handiwork. Her pumpkin, of course, was beautiful — intricate patterns curling into a hauntingly elegant face, the kind of artistry only Mira could pull off.

Zoey’s, on the other hand…

“Okay, it’s supposed to be a turtle,” Zoey said defensively, holding hers up with pride.

Rumi squinted, tilting her head. “...Is it upside down?”

Zoey gasped. “No! It’s abstract!”

Mira tried — and failed — to stifle a giggle. “I mean, I kind of see it… if I squint… and tilt my head like Rumi.”

Zoey huffed dramatically, crossing her arms. “You two are pumpkin snobs.”

Rumi smirked, placing her own pumpkin beside Mira’s. “Mine’s a tiger. Obviously.”

Zoey leaned in, studying it. “...Are you sure it’s not just angry cat energy?”

“Angry cat energy is tiger energy,” Rumi shot back, flicking a bit of pumpkin at her.

Mira laughed, the sound light and real — the kind of laugh she hadn’t let herself have in a long time. “You’re both hopeless,” she teased, standing back and lighting the candles inside each pumpkin.

The flickering glow brought their creations to life — the turtle, the tiger, and the elegant, haunting design that looked straight out of an art book. The warm candlelight painted their faces in gold and amber tones, casting dancing shadows on the walls.

Zoey leaned against the counter beside Mira, watching the pumpkins flicker. “Okay,” she admitted softly, “yours is actually amazing.”

Mira smiled, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “Artist privilege.”

“More like show-off,” Rumi teased, bumping her shoulder gently.

Mira just grinned wider. “Maybe. But now we have the perfect Halloween trio — a turtle, a tiger, and a vampire queen.”

Zoey laughed, raising her mug of cider. “To the weirdest, coziest Halloween ever.”

Rumi and Mira clinked their mugs against hers, their laughter mingling with the faint crackle of the candles.

The night stretched on with warmth, soft music, and the comforting hum of found family. For once, there were no shadows lurking — just the glow of pumpkin light and the sound of laughter.

After the laughter died down and the candles inside the pumpkins flickered softly, Mira stretched with a small yawn, brushing a few stray pumpkin seeds from her sleeve.

“Hey…” she began, voice gentle but carrying that familiar spark of excitement, “how about we end the night with a Halloween movie?”

Zoey immediately perked up. “Yes. Absolutely yes. I was waiting for someone to say that.”

Rumi chuckled. “I should’ve known you two wouldn’t call it a night just yet.”

Mira grinned, already walking toward the couch and grabbing the remote. “Come on, Rumi, you love horror movies almost as much as Zoey does.”

“Keyword, almost,” Rumi said, but she followed anyway, grabbing the throw blanket from the back of the couch as Zoey plopped down beside Mira, stealing one of the pillows.

“What are we watching?” Zoey asked.

Mira scrolled through the streaming list for a second before smiling. “What about Hocus Pocus? It’s cute, classic, not too scary.”

Zoey gasped dramatically. “The nostalgia! Yes. That one.”

Rumi rolled her eyes fondly but didn’t protest. “Fine. But I get middle spot. You two are way too grabby during jump scares.”

“Lies,” Zoey said, pretending to pout.

“Truth,” Rumi countered, sitting between them and pulling the blanket over all three.

The movie started, the soft glow of the TV casting a pale light across their faces. Mira’s head naturally leaned against Rumi’s shoulder, while Zoey’s legs tucked up under her, her arm brushing against Rumi’s other side.

Halfway through the movie, Mira giggled when Zoey started quoting lines under her breath, and Rumi tried to pretend she wasn’t amused — but the smile tugging at her lips gave her away.

When the credits finally rolled, the room was quiet except for the faint hum of the TV. Mira’s eyelids were drooping, Zoey’s head had fallen onto Rumi’s lap, and Rumi just sat there for a while — listening to their soft breathing, the low warmth of the moment wrapping around her like the blanket they shared.

Eventually, Rumi turned off the TV, brushing a stray lock of hair from Zoey’s face. “Come on, sleepyheads,” she whispered softly. “Bedtime.”

Mira blinked sleepily. “Best Halloween Eve ever.”

Zoey mumbled something that sounded like agreement, and the three of them made their way to their rooms — Mira humming quietly under her breath, Zoey leaning against Rumi’s arm, and the faint glow of their pumpkins still lighting the living room behind them. Rumi made sure to blow out the candles before they all went to bed.

Rumi helped Zoey undress from her clothes for the day. But Zoey refused clothes for sleeping. "I'm tired of wearing clothes baby." Zoey mumbled sleepily. "I wanna sleep in the nuuuude." She said as she flopped on the bed. Rumi couldn't help but to smile and blush as she looked at her beautiful girlfriend on the bed. Her toned naked body stretched across the bed, in nothing more than her light purple underwear with a little white bow on the front.

Rumi quickly changed out of her clothes as Zoey watched her with sleepy eyes, propped up on one elbow, waiting.

"God, you look like a goddess," she said. "Don't put that on…" Zoey said, a little demanding. Rumi paused when she was about to pull her sleep shirt over her head. She complies and puts the shirt back in the drawer. Then she walks over to the bed, climbing in under the covers with Zoey. They immediately tangled up with each other. Skin to skin, helping them fall asleep faster.

Rumi kissed her soft lips sleepily. "Goodnight my little koala bear."

"Mm, good night my big bad wolf." Zoey murmured into her neck, as she nuzzled close.

In Mira's room, she changed into her pajamas, and lay in bed. She was happy, very happy. Tomorrow couldn't come fast enough. She smiled at the thought of finally revealing her true feelings to Rumi and Zoey. She clutched the little bear they got for her months before, at the hospital. "Tomorrow…" She said as she let sleep take her.

Morning sunlight spilled through the apartment windows, washing the kitchen in a soft gold glow. The air already smelled like cinnamon and coffee — Mira’s doing, of course.

Today wasn’t just another day.
It was Halloween.

The day she’d been planning, waiting, and counting down to for weeks.

Rumi stood beside her at the stove, flipping pancakes with practiced ease while Mira hummed beside her, carefully pouring coffee into two mugs. They worked in quiet rhythm — a morning routine they’d naturally fallen into. Rumi handled the stove; Mira made sure everything smelled perfect.

“Think she’ll wake up soon?” Mira asked with a little grin, stirring cream into her coffee.

Rumi smirked. “Give her ten minutes. The smell’s already doing the heavy lifting.”

Sure enough, a sleepy voice mumbled from down the hall, followed by soft footsteps.

Zoey emerged in one of Rumi’s oversized shirts, her hair messy, eyes half-open. “You two are too loud in the morning,” she said, even though the smell of pancakes had her already drifting toward the table like a moth to flame.

Mira couldn’t help but laugh. “You say that every time, but you’re the first one sitting down.”

“Because food,” Zoey replied, plopping into her usual chair and rubbing her eyes. “You can’t expect me to resist the smell of Rumi’s pancakes and Mira’s coffee.”

Rumi turned with the pan in hand, sliding a few fresh pancakes onto Zoey’s plate. “You’re spoiled, you know that?”

“Mmhm,” Zoey said through a mouthful, “and I love it.”

Mira snorted softly, sipping her coffee. “She’s not wrong.”

The kitchen filled with quiet laughter and the clink of silverware. The kind of warmth Mira had missed for years — laughter that came easily, moments that didn’t need to be earned. Every little thing about that morning felt right.

And as Mira looked between Rumi and Zoey, she felt her heart swell.

Tonight’s the night, she thought.
She was finally going to tell them everything — what they meant to her, what she wanted, what she felt.

It was Halloween morning, and for the first time in a long time, the day ahead didn’t scare her at all. It thrilled her.

The rest of the morning slipped by in an easy, familiar rhythm — the kind that felt like home.

After breakfast, Zoey stretched with a yawn that turned into a groan. “Alright, dibs on the shower before anyone else beats me to it,” she announced, already shuffling toward the bathroom.

“Go ahead,” Rumi said, smirking over her coffee mug. “Just don’t use up all the hot water again.”

“No promises,” Zoey called back, her voice fading behind the door, followed by the sound of running water and muffled singing.

Mira smiled faintly at the sound, her chin resting in her palm. “She always sings in the shower,” she said softly.

Rumi chuckled. “Yeah. Loudly. And always off-key.”

That made Mira giggle — a light, airy sound that warmed the quiet kitchen even more. She stayed at the table with Rumi for a few more minutes, both of them just enjoying the calm before the busy night ahead. The morning sunlight painted Rumi’s purple hair in soft highlights, and for a moment, Mira found herself staring longer than she meant to.

When Zoey finally emerged, her hair damp and fluffy, she made a beeline for the couch, declaring, “Bathroom’s free. Whoever’s next, good luck — it’s a sauna in there.”

“I’ll take my chances,” Mira said with a small laugh, grabbing her towel before heading in.

The bathroom was still fogged with steam and smelled faintly of Zoey’s vanilla body wash, but Mira didn’t mind. She turned on the shower, letting the warm water roll over her as peppermint from her own soap filled the air. The scent was sharp and refreshing — just what she needed to settle her nerves for tonight.

By the time she finished, the apartment had grown quiet again. Rumi was lounging on the couch with her phone, Zoey had curled up beside her with a blanket, and Mira joined them, towel-drying her hair.

They spent the rest of the late morning and early afternoon doing little things — folding laundry, cleaning up breakfast dishes, and picking songs for the playlist at the bar later that night. There was no rush, no tension, just laughter and small talk.

Every so often, Mira would glance out the window at the autumn sky, feeling that gentle flutter in her chest again.

Tonight wasn’t just another night.
It was the night.

By mid-afternoon, the apartment was buzzing with the low hum of excitement. Costumes, makeup palettes, and fake fangs were scattered across the couch and coffee table, with Zoey’s half-finished latte sitting dangerously close to a tube of red lipstick.

“Alright,” Zoey said, holding up a lacy black glove and squinting at it, “whose is this? Because it definitely doesn’t fit my vampire queen aesthetic.”

“That would be mine,” Mira said, laughing softly as she reached for it.

They’d all decided on a theme weeks ago — vampires, but make it glamorous. Zoey’s outfit was a modern punk twist on a vampire queen, Rumi’s was sleek and regal like a gothic warlord, and Mira’s… well, Mira had said she wanted to surprise them.

She’d been quiet while they got ready, carefully doing her own makeup in her room with the door cracked just slightly open. Zoey was curling Rumi’s hair in loose waves, both of them joking about how Rumi somehow made leather look cozy, when Mira finally stepped out.

The moment she appeared in the doorway, the laughter died.

She stood there in a fitted black corset dress, trimmed with delicate lace that hugged her curves just right. The neckline dipped enough to make Rumi forget how to breathe for a moment, and the slit running up one leg revealed just enough thigh to leave Zoey blinking like she’d just been hit by a spell.

Her hair was pinned half-up, half-down — dark waves cascading over her shoulders — and her makeup was ethereal: deep red lips, smoky eyes, a touch of glitter at the corners. She’d added a thin black choker with a tiny silver charm shaped like a bat, and her skin, pale under the warm light, made her look hauntingly beautiful.

Rumi’s mouth parted slightly. Zoey actually gasped.

“Mira…” Zoey said first, her voice low, awed. “Holy hell.”

Rumi blinked, words failing her for once. “You… wow.”

Mira flushed, tugging a bit at the corset laces. “Is it… too much?”

Zoey immediately shook her head, standing up. “No. Nope. It’s perfect. Like—” she gestured wildly, “drop-dead gorgeous. Pun one hundred percent intended.”

Rumi chuckled at that, finally finding her voice again. “Zoey’s right. You look incredible, Mira.” Her tone softened as she stepped closer, eyes trailing over the careful details — the makeup, the jewelry, the way the dress fit her perfectly. “You really outdid yourself.”

Mira bit her lip, smiling shyly. “I wanted to match you two. You always look amazing, so…”

Zoey let out a playful groan. “Oh, don’t you dare use that adorable tone right after walking out looking like a vampire goddess, I can’t take that combo.”

That made Mira laugh — the tension breaking just a little.

But Rumi couldn’t quite tear her eyes away. Her heartbeat felt a little heavier in her chest, the same way it did every time Mira smiled like that.

Zoey noticed the look and smirked, leaning closer to whisper just loud enough for Rumi to hear, “You’re staring, babe.”

Rumi didn’t even deny it. “Can you blame me?”

Mira caught that last bit, blushing even deeper. “You two are terrible,” she said softly, but her grin betrayed her.

Zoey clapped her hands together. “Alright, spooky squad — let’s grab our coats and head to the bar. Time to put all that hard work and fog-machine magic to use.”

“Right,” Mira said, still smiling, slipping into her heels and grabbing her little bat-shaped purse.

Rumi lingered a moment longer, eyes following Mira as she moved toward the door. Zoey nudged her gently.

“C’mon, my love-struck wolf,” she teased. “We’ve got a Halloween night to make perfect.”

And with that, they left together — the perfect mix of laughter, warmth, and the kind of electricity that only came from three hearts trying, slowly and surely, to find their rhythm together.

Mira’s phone buzzed with a quick text from Baby: “We’re here. Abby and Min-Jae too. Waiting on you three"

She smiled, quickly typing back that they were on the way.

“Alright,” Zoey said, buckling her seatbelt, “let’s make this Halloween night one for the books.”

Rumi smirked, starting the car. “You say that every year, Zo, but tonight? Tonight’s different. Mira’s on a mission for perfection.”

Mira got shotgun again, but she promised zoey shotgun on the way home later again. "Sorry, Zo. you were a little slow this time." She giggled playfully. "Next time. I promise!"

Zoey puffed out her cheeks and shot a playful glare, which Mira ignored as she glanced out the window. She was bubbling with excitement, her chest feeling tight in anticipation. This was the night she’d been waiting for — the night she wanted everything to go perfectly.

The drive was short, the air in the car buzzing with quiet chatter and little jokes. As soon as Rumi pulled into the Silver Moon Tavern’s parking lot, Mira practically bounced out of the car, her boots clicking against the pavement.

The moment they stepped out, Baby, Abby, and Min-Jae erupted in enthusiastic cheers.

“Oh my god!” Abby cried, pointing at Mira. “Look at you! You are stunning!”

Min-Jae nodded vigorously. “Seriously, Mira, that costume… drop-dead gorgeous!”

Mira flushed, tugging at the hem of her dress, but her smile was wide and proud. “Thanks… I just wanted it to be special.”

Rumi chuckled, looking down at her. “I think you succeeded. You look incredible.”

Zoey, meanwhile, was practically bouncing on the balls of her feet, eyes flicking between Mira and Rumi. “You guys look amazing. I’m so ready for tonight.”

Once the initial compliments and squeals died down, Rumi pulled Mira aside with a soft smile. “Alright, your moment,” she said, handing her the keys. “Go ahead and unlock the doors.”

Mira’s hands shook slightly as she fitted the key into the lock, feeling a rush of pride and responsibility. The door clicked open, and a wave of familiar bar air greeted her — faint scent of polished wood, lingering whiskey, and a hint of last night’s lingering excitement.

She stepped inside, taking it all in. Her chest swelled. Tonight, she thought, tonight everything’s going to be perfect.

Zoey looped an arm around her, whispering, “See? You already made it perfect, Mir.”

Mira grinned, squeezing Zoey’s hand before stepping fully inside. "Let's do this!"

Mira slid the key into the lock, her hands trembling slightly from excitement. With a satisfying click, the door to the Silver Moon Tavern swung open. “Alright, here we go,” she whispered, a grin spreading across her face.

Rumi and Zoey followed behind, and the moment they stepped inside, Abby and Min-Jae froze, mouths slightly open.

“Wow…” Abby breathed, glancing around the bar. “This… this looks amazing!”

Min-Jae nodded, eyes wide. “Seriously, Mira… you’ve outdone yourself. The lights, the decorations, everything—it’s perfect.”

Mira felt her cheeks ache from smiling so hard, but she didn’t care. She practically floated through the bar, soaking in the sight she had helped create. “Thank you… I just wanted it to be special,” she said, still grinning.

For the next thirty minutes, the group busied themselves with final touches: setting up the tables, arranging the stage for the costume contest, and double-checking the drink specials list. Mira felt a thrill each time she added something — each detail made the night feel more hers, more magical.

Then, the door chime rang, pulling her attention. She glanced up, and her heart leapt. Reggie and his crew stepped inside, dressed in full zombie makeup, staggering theatrically as they entered.

“Mira!” Reggie called out, his voice filled with excitement. “Wouldn’t miss this party for the world!”

Mira’s grin widened even more, if that was possible. “You guys!” she exclaimed, running forward to greet them. It had been over a month since she’d seen them — Reggie and his crew had flown to America for family visits. And now, here they were, ready to celebrate.

Rumi and Zoey exchanged a glance, smiling at Mira’s uncontainable excitement. Tonight, it was finally all coming together.

Reggie’s eyes swept over Mira, taking in the changes since he last saw her nearly two months ago. “Wow… Mira, you look so much healthier. And your hair—it’s dark now, not pink.”

Mira’s fingers brushed a strand of her dark hair behind her ear. “Yeah, I grew it out. Didn’t dye it again,” she said with a small, proud smile.

“And you three… these costumes? Absolutely killer,” Reggie added, giving Rumi and Zoey a playful nod.

Rumi chuckled, leaning casually against the bar. “Thanks, Reggie. You and your crew pulled off the zombie thing perfectly. Great choice.”

Zoey joined in, grinning. “Seriously, you guys look like you just walked out of a horror movie. Awesome.”

The banter continued, light and warm, until the first customers began trickling in. Some were in costume, some weren’t, but the moment they crossed the threshold, the Silver Moon Tavern came alive. Music thumped from the speakers, laughter echoed over the fog drifting across the dance floor, and the neon lights bathed everything in their violet-orange glow. Mira’s heart swelled, practically bursting at the seams.

She weaved through the crowd with a water in hand, soaking in the scene she had helped create. Everything was going perfectly—just like she had hoped. But amidst the joy, a knot of nerves tightened in her chest.

Okay, Mira, she thought, biting her lip lightly. I need to tell them. I can’t wait any longer. But… I have to pick the perfect moment.

Her gaze flicked to Rumi and Zoey, laughing together near the bar, and her chest tightened with longing. Soon… soon, I’ll tell them I love them. I want to be theirs. I need them to know.

She took a deep breath, steadying herself as she maneuvered through the fog and dancing crowd, waiting for just the right moment to finally make her heart known.

Mira’s heart was pounding, but not from nerves anymore — from certainty.
She finally knew how she wanted to tell them.

Across the bar, Baby was laughing with a small group that Mira didn’t recognize — a few local musicians he’d invited just for tonight. When their eyes met, he gave her a knowing nod. That was all the confirmation she needed.

She took a deep breath and walked toward the small stage, her boots clicking softly against the wooden floor. The fog curled around her ankles as she climbed up. The chatter in the bar softened, curious eyes following her. Baby joined her at the mic, guitar already in hand.

“Hey, everyone,” Mira began, her voice a little shaky at first. “Uh, this wasn’t planned, but… there’s something I’ve been wanting to do for a while now.”
She looked down at Rumi and Zoey — both standing right at the front, eyes wide, smiles forming.
“This one’s… for you two.”

Rumi blinked, stunned. “Wait— for us?” she said quietly, looking at Zoey, who was already clutching her arm with a grin that could outshine the neon lights.

Mira nodded once, then turned to Baby. “Ready?”

He grinned. “Always.”

The first few chords rang out — soft, steady. Then Mira began to sing.

Her voice was deep and smooth, harmonizing with the low thrum of the guitar. Every word carried weight, warmth, and the unspoken love she’d been holding back for too long.
The bar fell completely silent, all noise fading under the sound of her voice.

Baby started picking gently at the string of the guitar. And Mira started humming.

Then the words came a moment later.

🎵Something has been welling up inside,
Every step I took, I’ve had you by my side.
As you could’ve figured, the feelings that had withered,
And been replaced by fear and shivers,
Turned to something bigger.

Her voice was deep, warm, and hauntingly soft at the edges — the kind that seemed to wrap around the heart and squeeze. The bar lights dimmed slightly, the glow of neon signs painting her in shifting hues of violet, blue, and soft amber.

I think I’m falling for your hearts, your eyes like shining stars,
Beneath the neon glow your skin was draped with color.
I had so many walls up, and you came and knocked them down,
The darkness that surrounded me — the light that you had found in me.

Rumi’s breath hitched. Zoey’s hands covered her mouth, eyes glistening.

Baby’s low harmony joined hers on the next verse, soft and grounding — but the spotlight belonged to Mira. She wasn’t performing; she was confessing.

The love for me you held, I’m starting to portray myself,
Can’t hold onto petty secrets any longer.
The girl I used to be is now the woman that you see,
Built from nothing, I’m something so much stronger.

Rumi’s eyes shimmered with tears, her throat tightening. Zoey reached for her hand, squeezing it hard. The two of them didn’t take their eyes off Mira — her thin frame, her trembling fingers wrapped around the mic, her expression raw and vulnerable.

Home is where the heart is, I may have been the artist,
But the drawings that I started before you seemed to be the hardest.

Her voice cracked on that last line — not from strain, but from emotion. The crowd felt it. Everyone did. The bar was silent except for her and Baby’s soft guitar.

I think I’m falling for your hearts, your eyes like shining stars,
Beneath the neon glow your skin was draped with color.
I had so many walls up, and you came and knocked them down,
The darkness that surrounded me, the light that you had found in me.

What I’ve taken I now return in the form of loving words,
I cherish the calm and the storm in you.🎵

When the last note faded, the bar stayed quiet for a heartbeat. Then a wave of applause erupted, but Mira barely heard it. Her eyes were locked on Rumi and Zoey — both standing now, both looking at her like she was something unreal.

Rumi’s voice was barely a whisper when she spoke, her eyes glistening.
“Mira… that was… you wrote that for us?”

Mira nodded slowly, tears gathering at the corners of her eyes. “Yeah,” she said softly into the mic. “Every word.”

Zoey wiped at her cheeks, laughing through her tears. “You’re so unfair, Mira… you can’t just sing something like that and expect us not to fall even harder for you.”

That earned a small laugh from the crowd, but all Mira could do was smile through the warmth in her chest — her heart finally open, laid bare beneath the neon glow.

The final chord faded, the neon hum filling the air again. Mira’s hands were trembling as she handed the mic back to Baby, her breathing uneven — part nerves, part relief, part everything she’d been holding in for months.

Tears blurred her vision, but she didn’t care. She stepped down from the stage, every step slow and sure, her gaze locked on Rumi and Zoey like she was moving through fog and the only thing clear in the world was them.

Rumi stood frozen, her lips parted, eyes wet. Zoey’s hand was still covering her mouth, a shaky laugh caught somewhere between awe and disbelief.

Mira reached them — didn’t say a word.

She went straight for Rumi first, her hands coming up to cup her cheeks, and before Rumi could speak, Mira pulled her in and kissed her.

It wasn’t soft. It wasn’t careful. It was everything — raw and trembling and years of hurt turned into something pure. The noise of the bar around them dimmed, the music, the voices — all fading until it was just the sound of their hearts colliding. Rumi’s hands found her waist, holding her steady as the world fell away.

When they finally broke apart, Rumi’s forehead rested against hers, her breath shaky. But Mira wasn’t done.

She turned to Zoey, eyes still shining, her chest rising and falling fast. Zoey barely had time to whisper her name before Mira closed the distance and kissed her too.

Zoey melted instantly, a soft sound escaping her as she pulled Mira closer by the back of her neck. Everything about her — the warmth, the sweetness — hit Mira like a flood. It felt like falling, like flying, like home.

When they finally pulled apart, Mira could barely get the words out — her voice breaking, but steady in its truth.
“I love you,” she said. “Both of you. I’m in love with you. And I have been for the last month and a half.”

Rumi’s eyes flooded again, a trembling laugh escaping her lips as she brushed a tear off Mira’s cheek.
“Mira… you have no idea how long we’ve wanted to hear that.”

Zoey’s voice was soft, almost breaking. “We’ve loved you for so long. We just didn’t want to scare you off… you’ve been through so much.”

Mira smiled through her tears, her heart full to bursting. “You didn’t scare me. You saved me.”

Rumi and Zoey both pulled her in then — a three-way embrace right there in the middle of the bar, the crowd around them cheering, some clapping, others teary-eyed themselves.

Under the neon glow, surrounded by warmth and laughter, Mira finally felt what home really was — not a place, but two hearts that had chosen her, and that she had chosen right back.

They finally pulled back from each other, breath mingling, hearts still racing. Mira’s cheeks were flushed, Rumi’s eyes shimmered in the neon light, and Zoey was smiling like she couldn’t stop even if she tried.

Before any of them could say another word, Baby’s voice boomed over the mic.
“Alright, everybody — give it up for The Vampire Trio!”

The bar erupted into cheers and whistles.
Rumi buried her face in her hands, half laughing, half mortified. Zoey groaned playfully, covering her red face with her palm. Mira just stood there, grinning through her tears, because for once, she didn’t care that the whole world was watching.

Baby laughed from the stage. “Congrats to the happy undead couple — or, uh… throuple, maybe?” He winked at them, and the laughter in the bar grew louder. “Anyway, costume contest starts in ten minutes, so get your spooky selves ready!”

As the crowd shifted their attention back toward the stage, the three of them stayed by the counter — just close enough to touch, still wrapped in the glow of what had just happened.

Mira looked between them, suddenly quiet again. Her voice came out small but sure.
“So… what am I to you two now?”

Rumi and Zoey shared a look — the kind of look only people who already knew each other’s hearts could share. Rumi’s hand found Mira’s first, her thumb brushing slow circles over her knuckles.

“If you want to be,” Rumi said softly, “you’re ours.”

Zoey’s voice followed, warm and certain. “Our girlfriend. Officially.”

Mira blinked, as if she needed to make sure she heard right.
“Yours?”

“Yeah,” Zoey said, smiling so hard her eyes were glistening. “Ours.”

Mira nodded quickly — once, twice, three times — tears slipping down her cheeks again as she laughed. “Yes. Yes, I want that. I want you both.”

That earned her two more kisses — first from Rumi, deep and slow, then from Zoey, softer but just as full of promise. This time they didn’t care about the eyes on them, or the noise around them. The world had melted down to just the three of them, finally, completely.

When they finally pulled apart, they stayed close — Mira standing between them, Rumi’s hand resting on her hip, Zoey’s fingers laced with hers.

They leaned against the counter, hearts still thundering, sharing quiet smiles and soft touches until Baby’s voice called out again from the stage:

“Costume contest starts now! Let’s see what you monsters got!”

The trio laughed together, brushing shoulders as they turned toward the stage — Mira in the middle, exactly where she belonged.

The music shifted to something upbeat and eerie as Baby took center stage again, mic in hand and a grin plastered across his face. “Alright, everybody! It’s time for the annual Halloween costume contest!” he announced, voice echoing through the bar. “You know the rules — the louder the cheers, the better the chances to win. So let’s see what our freaky little family cooked up this year!”

The crowd erupted in applause and laughter as people began gathering near the stage. Mira, Rumi, and Zoey leaned against the counter together, still glowing from earlier. Mira’s cheeks still had a faint pink hue, but now it was from excitement instead of nerves.

Reggie and his crew were first up. Every single one of them was dressed as grotesque zombies — but not the lazy, store-bought kind. They went all out. Torn clothes, layered prosthetics, blood and grime that looked horrifyingly real. One even had a fake eyeball hanging out, bouncing slightly as he moved. The crowd lost it.

“Give it up for our undead travelers!” Baby called out. “Fresh off the flight from the grave!”

Reggie snarled into the crowd, committing to the bit, and Mira laughed so hard she had to hold her sides.

Next up came a massive werewolf — and for a moment, even Rumi blinked twice. The costume was incredible. The fur shimmered under the bar’s dim lights, and when the guy howled, the sound was deep and resonant enough to make a few people jump.

“Okay, that’s actually kind of terrifying,” Zoey whispered, half hiding behind Rumi.

“Not bad,” Rumi said with a smirk, her fangs barely showing when she smiled. “But I’ve seen better.”

Mira laughed under her breath. “Yeah, you have.”

Then came a pair of identical twins in pale blue dresses, fake blood splattered just enough to be unsettling. They moved in perfect sync, heads tilting at the same time, hands clasped together. The crowd let out a mix of laughter and genuine shivers.

“Alright, who let the horror movie out of the TV?” Baby joked, pretending to back away.

Contestants kept coming — witches, vampires, a guy dressed as a literal disco ball — the creativity was wild. But all Mira could think about was how perfect everything felt. The music, the laughter, the fog swirling around the floor like mist.

She leaned her head against Rumi’s shoulder, her voice soft over the noise. “It’s perfect. Just like I wanted.”

Rumi turned slightly, brushing a kiss to the top of her head. “You made it that way, Mir.”

Zoey nodded, smiling warmly at her. “You really did. Look around — everyone’s having the time of their lives because of you.”

Mira’s chest tightened in the best way. The bar she’d once been too afraid to even stand in was now glowing with laughter, music, and life — all of it surrounding her, because of the people she loved most.

Baby lifted the mic again, still hyped up from the crowd’s energy. “Alright, alright! While our undead and unholy contestants catch their breath — and maybe grab a drink — we’re gonna take a quick five-minute intermission to tally the votes!”

Cheers rippled through the bar as people clapped, some heading for the counter, others dancing near the stage while the DJ switched songs. Fog still rolled along the floor, curling around boots and heels like mist from another world.

Rumi stretched her shoulders, finally letting the tension melt away. She leaned toward Min-Jae, who was scrolling through her phone near the end of the counter. “Hey, could you do me a favor and grab a couple of the appetizer plates from the back? Maybe something Mira would like — she’s been going nonstop all night.”

Min-Jae grinned, giving a mock salute. “Got it, boss wolf.”

Rumi rolled her eyes but smiled as she disappeared into the back. She looked at Mira and Zoey — both glowing under the purple and orange lights. Mira especially looked radiant. Her cheeks still had that pink flush, her eyes bright and soft.

Min-Jae came back with a tray loaded up — a few small plates of fries, mini sliders, and fried dumplings. Mira’s eyes widened like a kid’s. “Oh my god, thank you.”

“Courtesy of your favorite bartender,” Rumi said with a smirk, sliding the tray toward her.

Zoey chuckled, grabbing one of the fries. “Correction: courtesy of your favorite bartender’s minion.”

“Hey!” Min-Jae called out with a laugh before wandering off again.

The three of them sat together at the counter, eating and laughing quietly while the noise of the bar pulsed around them. Mira hadn’t realized how hungry she was until she tasted the first bite — warm, savory, grounding.

“I needed this,” she murmured, leaning slightly against Rumi’s shoulder.

“I know,” Rumi said softly, brushing her fingers over Mira’s hand for a moment.

Before Mira could say anything else, Baby’s voice echoed over the speakers again.

“Alright, monsters and mortals! The results are in!” he shouted dramatically, drawing whistles and applause from the crowd. “This was one of the closest contests we’ve ever had — y’all really showed up tonight.”

Mira straightened, excitement bubbling up despite herself. She reached for Zoey’s hand without realizing it, fingers interlocking.

“In third place,” Baby said, “we’ve got… The Shining twins! Honestly, that was creepy as hell, and I’m sleeping with a night-light tonight.”

The crowd cheered, the twins bowing in perfect unison.

“In second place…” Baby dragged out the pause until everyone was yelling for him to just say it. “Our terrifying, realistic, might-give-me-nightmares-for-a-week… zombie crew!”

Reggie and his group hollered, bumping fists and pretending to gnaw on each other for the crowd.

“And finally…” Baby grinned wide, letting the tension build. “First place — for their insane attention to detail, terrifying realism, and commitment to the bit — the werewolf!”

The bar erupted in applause, people cheering and howling playfully. The guy in the werewolf costume threw his head back and howled right along with them, wagging his faux tail and playing it up perfectly.

Mira laughed, clapping along with everyone else. “Okay, that’s fair. That costume was amazing.”

“Yeah,” Zoey agreed, nudging her. “Kinda freaked me out how real it looked.”

“Right?” Rumi said with a small grin, watching the stage. “I almost felt like I should challenge him for territory.”

Zoey snorted. “You would.”

They laughed together, the moment easy and warm despite the noise around them. Mira felt the weight of the night settle in — not heavy, but comforting. Between the music, the laughter, and the warmth of the two girls beside her, it felt like everything had finally clicked into place.

When Baby called the werewolf up to collect his prize — a trophy shaped like a pumpkin and a free drink tab — Rumi leaned closer to her girlfriends, her voice low and fond.

“Guess we’ll just have to steal the spotlight next year.”

Zoey grinned. “Deal.”

Mira smiled between them, her heart still fluttering from everything that had happened. “Next year,” she said softly, almost to herself — and for the first time in a long time, the thought of next year felt exciting.

After the costume contest wrapped up, the bar didn’t slow down. Music filled the air, louder now, more vibrant, and the crowd moved with it — laughter, clinking glasses, and occasional cheers blending with the beat. Mira, Rumi, and Zoey slipped back onto the floor together, letting the music guide them.

This time, they danced closer than they ever had before. Mira moved between the two, her arms wrapping around both of them when the beat slowed, and occasionally leaning down to press her lips to theirs. The kisses lingered — soft at first, teasing, then deeper, exploring, tongues brushing in perfect harmony. Her heart felt like it would burst, and from the way Rumi and Zoey responded, she knew they felt the same.

Mira’s height gave her a natural advantage, and she bent down to reach them, pulling each close when she wanted to steal another kiss. Zoey nuzzled her neck, laughing softly when Mira whispered something sweet there. Rumi’s hand slid along Mira’s back, fingers tracing patterns that made Mira shiver with delight.

Finally, Mira rested her forehead against Rumi’s shoulder, arms still around both of them. Her chest rose and fell as she drew a deep, grounding breath.

“I love you,” she murmured, her voice low but steady, carrying weight. “I love you so much. I… I wish I said it sooner… but I was scared to say it.”

Rumi and Zoey froze for a moment, hearts aching and soft all at once. Rumi shifted, pressing a gentle kiss to Mira’s temple, whispering against her skin, “We love you too, Mir. We’ve loved you for so long.”

Zoey leaned in from the other side, resting her cheek against Mira’s shoulder. “More than you know,” she added, her voice thick with emotion. “You’re ours… if you’ll have us.”

Mira closed her eyes, savoring the warmth and closeness, the feeling of being seen, adored, and finally home. She kissed each of them again, softer this time, lingering in the intimacy of the moment.

For the first time in years, she felt completely safe, completely loved, and completely in love in return. The neon lights of the bar shimmered around them, the music washing over their shared heartbeat, and it was perfect — exactly how she had imagined it.

Mira tugged gently at Rumi’s sleeve as they were finishing up at the bar. “Can we… go home now? Even if it’s still early? I just… I want to be alone with you two.”

Rumi exchanged a quick look with Zoey, both of them smiling softly. “Of course,” Rumi said, her voice low and warm. Zoey nodded, adding, “Yeah… we can leave. Go enjoy the rest of the night together.”

They told Baby and Abby they’d be leaving early, and Rumi handed one of the keys to Baby so he could lock up at the end of the night. With a final wave and a few shared smiles, the three of them slipped out into the crisp night air.

Rumi opened the car door and held it for Mira. “Front seat’s all yours tonight,” she said, and Mira grinned, settling in beside her. Zoey claimed the back, stretching comfortably across the seats.

Once everyone was buckled in and Rumi started driving, the quiet hum of the road filled the car. Mira leaned slightly toward Rumi, still basking in the warmth of the night and the events of the evening.

Without a word, Rumi reached over, placing her right hand gently on Mira’s left thigh. Her fingers brushed softly over the curve, squeezing just a little. Mira’s breath hitched slightly at the touch, a flush warming her cheeks. She shifted subtly closer, letting her own hand rest lightly atop Rumi’s, a small, content smile tugging at her lips.

Zoey glanced forward from the backseat, a soft, knowing smile on her face, watching the quiet intimacy unfold. The road stretched ahead, but in the car, time seemed to slow — three hearts intertwined, comfortable and warm, savoring the stillness of being together after everything that had led to this perfect night.

When they finally made it home, the apartment was quiet except for the faint hum of the city outside. Mira slipped off her shoes and stood in the middle of the living room for a moment, looking between her bedroom door and the one that Rumi and Zoey shared.

She hesitated. “Can I…” she started, her voice soft, “can I sleep with you two tonight?”

Zoey didn’t even let Rumi open her mouth to answer. “You don’t have to ask, dummy,” she said, grinning. “You never really have to.”

Mira’s lips curved into a small smile, the warmth in Zoey’s tone settling her nerves. Rumi stepped closer, brushing a loose strand of hair behind Mira’s ear. “But,” Rumi said lightly, “we should probably wash off all this makeup first. No way I’m getting glitter and fake blood all over the pillows.”

Mira’s grin widened, the tension in her shoulders easing. “So… group shower?” she teased, expecting them to roll their eyes and laugh it off.

But instead, Zoey raised an eyebrow and smirked. “You say that like it’s a bad idea.”

Rumi sighed in mock defeat, shaking her head with a small laugh. “Fine. But if one of you steals my towel again—”

“You love it,” Zoey interrupted, and Mira broke into soft laughter.

The bathroom filled with their chatter — joking about their smudged eyeliner, complaining about cold water, and trading playful nudges while they took turns rinsing the remnants of Halloween away. By the time they finished, the teasing had mellowed into a comfortable quiet, the kind that only came with deep trust and closeness.

Later, they crawled into Rumi and Zoey’s bed, Mira slipping into the middle. Rumi rested an arm over Mira’s waist while Zoey curled up behind her, her hand finding Mira’s and lacing their fingers together.

“Feels weird,” Zoey murmured sleepily. “But the good kind of weird.”

“Yeah?” Mira whispered.

“Yeah,” Rumi replied softly from her other side. “Like it was supposed to be this way all along.”

Mira smiled faintly in the dark, feeling their heartbeats on either side of her. “Then let’s stay like this,” she whispered, her voice drowsy. “Just us.”

And with quiet laughter, the three of them drifted off together — a tangle of warmth, trust, and something that finally felt like home.

And just like that. Halloween Night had finally come to an end, where Mira was finally at peace. She was finally where she needed to be, where she wanted to be for weeks. And now, she has two, beautiful girlfriends, who started off as complete strangers two and a half months ago, who saved her life. The two people that helped make this holiday event possible.

She loves them more than she thought she could ever love anyone ever again.

Chapter Text

Morning came, no sunlight beams against the walls or bed, just a dull grey, it was a cloudy day. Sunday. Rumi and Zoey's lazy Sunday. Their weekly day off from the world and responsibility. For the last few months, they had another person to share it with.

Mira.

The woman they vowed to protect. The woman they both fell hard for in the very beginning. Before they even knew her story. The woman they love and cherish every moment with.

Mira, who is currently the biggest blanket thief in history. Curled up in the middle of the bed, cocooned in the blanket that she tore off of Zoey and Rumi in the middle of the night. Sleeping soundly.

Mira woke first, she had forgotten she wasn't in her own bed when she felt something warm and soft against either side of her. Then she realized she had accidentally stolen the blanket….

Oops.

She carefully unwrapped it from herself, and covered both Rumi and Zoey back up. She only converted running half way. She tried not to wake them yet. They were both still sound asleep and they looked peaceful and beautiful.

It had been a little over a month since Mira confessed her love for Rumi and Zoey, and now she's been in their bed ever since then. They would wake up every morning with little whispers, giggles and kisses. A few mornings, Mira got stuck in the bed for 20 minutes because Zoey would go full koala mode.

This morning, that didn't happen. Mira rolled onto her side to face Rumi, who was on her back, breathing evenly in her sleep. She has this softness she only shows to Mira and Zoey, even with the bad bitch look to her. But when she's sleeping, she looks so cute, so peaceful. Mira wanted her awake though. She wanted to hear her melodic voice again.

"Baaaabe." Mira pokes her cheek a little. She got into the habit of gently poking both of them in the face, the sides, or in an ass cheek if they were in their sides or stomach. She didn't get a response from Rumi, so she tried again. "Rumiiii."

Rumi's brows knitted and she groaned in her sleep, mumbling something Mira couldn't quite understand. She rolled onto her back, stared at the ceiling then turned her head toward Zoey who was facing away. She decided to try it with her. Maybe she would have better luck.

She rolls onto her side, propping herself up on her left elbow, sliding a hand over Zoey's skin where her sleep shirt lifted up, and squeezed gently at her side. Her skin was warm to the touch. Zoey squirmed a little.

"Noo…" Zoey groaned in sleepy retaliation. "Five more minutes..." She grumbled.

"Babyyyy, it's morning, and I'm starving..." Mira whined a little.

Then finally, Zoey rolled back into Mira slightly, turning her head to look at her. Mira looked down at her, "Hi, baby." Zoey gave a sleepy smile, then yawned real big.

"Morning my love," Zoey said, still smiling, her voice still thick with sleep. Mira leaned in to kiss her, but Zoey put her hand in her face. Literally smooshing her nose, and pursed lips.

"Whut—?" Mira pouted into her hand, leaning into her hand, her face smooshing more.

"Morning breath babe, it's deadly."

Mira pulled her face away from Zoey's hand, grabbed it with her own and laced their fingers together. "Do you think I care?" and she leaned in again, trying one more time. This time Zoey didn't pull away, didn't even try. Mira's lips met Zoey's, soft and sweet. A little lazy, but a good start to the morning.

"Mmm, okay fiiine," Zoey purred against Mira's mouth. "Is Rumi awake?"

Mira turned to look at Rumi, still asleep. "Nope, still out cold. I tried to wake her up first, but she didn't budge."

Zoey sat up a bit. "I can fix that." Mira looked at her confused, but went with it anyway.

Zoey climbed over Mira, stopping mid straddle. "But first," Zoey leans down and kisses Mira before tickling her side, making her squirm and laugh. "That's for stealing the blankets, you little thief."

Zoey crawled over to Rumi's sleeping form, stopping right next to her. She leaned down to kiss her, which usually wakes her up instantly. But she got nothing but Rumi's face screwing into a frown, but not waking. She kissed her again and again. On the lips, on the neck, even on her clavicle. Nothing, except a slight twitchy jerk. Zoey screwed her face in frustration. "Rumiii, it's time to wake up." She tried. Again, nothing more than little twitches and jerks of her body.

Zoey reached for her hand, only to find it gripping the sheets tightly, her knuckles white.

Mira sat up, concern painted on her face now, this is definitely not normal. Rumi would be awake by now. Her mouth and throat go dry as fear starts to creep in. "She's usually the first one awake. Why isn't she waking up…?"

Zoey's heart dropped, her fingers tracing over Rumi's scars on her arm. "I—I don't know... The last time this happened, she was really deep in a bad dream. About Juno…"

That name left a sour taste in Zoey's mouth. Mira stiffened. "What if it's another one about her?"

Zoey only looked at Rumi. "I don't know. We won't know until she finally wakes up."

Then Rumi stirred more, but not to wake up. She started mumbling incoherent words. Only a few were intelligible, "Noo…" she murmured in her sleep. It was a breathy whine. Her brows furrowed and she whimpered. "Don't leave me…. please…" more words, more whines and whimpers came out of her mouth. Her breathing became rapid.

"Rumi, baby?" Zoey tried to coax her awake, her hands rested on her shoulder and hip, shaking her gently. "Hey, baby, wake up. Please. You're having a nightmare again."

Rumi didn't wake, she was still deep in sleep, deep in the dream she was having. Whimpering, while Mira and Zoey sat there helpless. They just had to wait it out.

Another 5 minutes go by and Rumi finally wakes, jolting upright, gasping, her chest heaving, rising and falling fast. Too fast for Zoey and Mira's liking. She looked terrified, and lost as she scrambled back against the headboard. Her back slammed into the cushion of the headboard hard, like she was trying to get away from something that wasn't there.

Her eyes were darting all around the room, searching for something, or someone. "Rumi, baby. I'm right here, love." Zoey said softly, resting a gentle hand on her left shoulder, not wanting to startle her too much.

Rumi stopped, blinked. and squeezed her eyes shut for a couple seconds. Her breaths were still fast, but not alarmingly so. She opened her eyes again, looking at Zoey's hand on her shoulder.

Then her eyes locked onto Zoey, and she started sobbing! Zoey was on her in seconds, wrapping her arms around her like she never wanted to let go. "Shhhh, it's okay baby, I'm here. I'm right here."

Mira could only watch as Rumi clung to Zoey for dear life, sobbing hard into her shoulder, clutching her shirt in her fists tightly, and then tighter as another wave hit her.

Mira's heart broke at the sight. Rumi's tears falling, her voice cracking with each sob. The cries she let out, broken and full of pain. Her heart ached at how broken her girlfriend sounded.

She hasn't seen Rumi, of all people, break down like this very often. She never thought that someone who was always tough and protective. Who was hard to break, and at the same time kind, could look so small and helpless. And broken.

Was it because of Juno again? Someone or something else? Mira thought to herself.

Mira scooted closer, hesitant. "Rumi…?" She said it so softly, they almost didn't hear her. But Zoey pulled away slightly. Rumi looked at Mira, sniffling, then practically leapt towards her as another wave of emotion hit her. Another wave of sobs. Mira held her tightly as she snapped her arms around Rumi's waist.

"I've got you, baby girl. Always." Mira whispered into her shoulder. A promise that Rumi told her before. "You're safe…" another thing Rumi told her before. And now it was Mira's turn to comfort her.

Rumi settled in between them, Mira on her left, Zoey on her right. She had stopped crying momentarily.

"Do you wanna talk about what happened?" Zoey asked, brushing hair out of Rumi's face, cupping her cheek, wiping away any remaining tears with her thumb.

Rumi swallowed, took a breath and let it out slowly. She nodded, leaning her head against the headboard, closing her eyes.

"It was my mom… and the stupid cancer that killed her. ……"

Zoey's eyes widened, Mira held her arm lightly, fingers brushing along the raised lines on her arm, tracing the tattoo, and the occasional scar, with her thumb.

Mira tucked Rumi's hair behind her ear and lightly kissed her cheek. "We're right here, Rumi. Not going anywhere." They let her talk, and didn't interrupt. Didn't want to. They just—listened.

Rumi entwined her fingers with both of theirs, it helped ground her. She usually doesn't let anything get to her. But this—this hit really hard. Losing her mother was one of the hardest things she had to go through.

And so, she began the story about her mother, and the cancer that took her. Her girlfriends’ there beside her. Grounding her—supporting her.

"I was 15 when it started going downhill. She had been diagnosed with cancer. Glioblastoma. It's a type of brain tumor, but it was aggressive. It was treatable, but this one had no plans of being treated."

She wiped her face, a failed attempt to wipe the tears away that still fell. "One day my best friend, Alexis, wanted me to join her and another friend for sweet treats and coffee at a new local cafe. That's the day things got worse... That's the day… I lost her. The day my world shattered into a million tiny pieces…."

13 years ago…

Rumi's first person POV switch

I was in my bathroom finishing up after my shower, when my phone rang. I tapped the green phone icon, answering it. Putting it on speaker as I messed with my hair.

Before I could say anything, a high pitched, shrill voice blared through the speaker. "Rumiiii!!"

I winced at the high pitched tone, my ears rang loudly for a moment. "Jeez Lex, could your voice go any higher?"

A little giggle came through, "I mean I could go higher if you want me—"

I interrupted instantly, "NO! Please don't! I wasn't serious!"

"I know, I know. Anywaaay!" Alexis sing-songed, "We're going to this new cafe that opened up, and we want you to come with us!"

"Who is we?" I asked, still messing with my hair, trying to style it, but struggling with it hopelessly. I sighed in frustration, dropping my hands to my sides—letting the black curtain of hair fall over my shoulders and down my back. "I Hate this fucking hair!"

Alexis Laughed over the phone at her. "Well… it's me, obviously, and Faye. Jinu was going to join us, but something came up."

"Wait Jinu was gonna be there too? He hates coffee." I was genuinely surprised. "Well, I don't really like him anyway. I guess that's a good thing."

"Rumi! What do you have against him that makes you hate him so much?" She asked.

"I never said I hated him, just don't like him. He's always whining about every little thing that doesn't appease him. He's just a spoiled brat in my opinion." I said jokingly.

Alexis sighed through the speaker. "I know he can be a bit much. But he's my cousin, and I would've had to let him come if he didn't have other things to do."

"Right, right, sorry." I said in surrender. "Okay, so it's you, me and …. Glowstick."

Alexis snorted through the phone. "Glowstick?!"

"What? It's Faye, we both know how she has a huge crush on me, and blushes when I'm anywhere near her." I nodded once in finality, knowing that Alexis can't see me.

"Don't tell her that then, she'll live up to it even more." Alexis warns her, but with humor in her voice. "So, are you going or not?"

I shook my head smiling. "Fiiine, I'll go, but I have to make sure my mom is okay with me going out today. What time are you guys getting there."

"YES!! You're the best Rumi!" She shrieked through the speaker. "Oh! Right… We'll be there around noon."

I nodded, again Alexis can't see it. Right... "Okay, I'll be there."

Alexis gave a kissing sound, "Love you bestieee, see you soon!"

The line went dead instantly. I looked at my reflection—smiling—happy. I had everything I could ever want in life right now. A mother that loves me unconditionally, and my friends that I wouldn't trade for the world. What could go wrong? Right? I thought... I gave up with my hair and threw it up in a neat high ponytail, then walked out to go downstairs.

Mom was in the kitchen, finishing up making lunch. My aunt, Celine, was there too, making sure she was steady. Well, she's not really my aunt, she's my moms best friend, and she's been like an aunt to me since I was born. My mother had been diagnosed with Glioblastoma about 9 months ago, and Celine has been glued to her side ever since then.

Her cancer had spread more, and started affecting her balance lately, and her vision has gotten bad too. She can still see, but it does get blurry. I hate seeing her struggle every day.

I heard Celine call for me from downstairs. "Rumi!! Lunch is ready!"

"Coming!!" I finished up with my hair, making sure every strand was in place. Making sure that my makeup was good enough, that it covered the dark circles under my eyes from not sleeping well lately.

My mom didn't need to see how her worsening health is affecting me. A 15 year old shouldn't have to lose sleep, wondering every night if their parents are going to make it to the next morning or not.

As I made it to the bottom of the stairs, my mom was placing plates on the table and Celine was helping her, taking a platter full of grilled samgyeopsal out of her hands. "I'll take that miss, you go sit down before you fall down."

"Celine, It's not even that hea—" She lost her balance mid sentence. Celine tried to quickly grab her, but I was already there. I don't even remember moving from the stairs. But I was holding my mom up from behind, my arms hooked under hers.

"And that's exactly why you didn't need to carry this Mi-Yeong." Celine said, sharp eyes on my mom as I steadied her to her feet.

"Thank you, baby." Mama said as I helped her sit down at the table. "I'm sorry..."

"Maybe you should listen to Auntie Celine, mama. One day you can fall and hit your head..." I told her, brows knit, voice low and soft, trying to hold back tears. "If I didn't get there fast enough, you—"

"But you did, dear, you were fast enough." She gave a smile. It was weak but it was there. She reached for my hand and I gave it to her. "You've always been a fast little one ever since you could walk."

Celine turned around with the platter and another plate. "It's true. You were like a little racer. It would take us 20 minutes to catch you." She let out a soft laugh. Smiling. "And it always seemed to be when we were trying to change your diaper, or give you a bath."

My mom laughed at the memory. "You— You would run around butt naked and we would chase you around the house! You had the cutest little round baby butt."

"MOM! Oh my god! That's enough about me as a naked baby..." My cheeks were pink as hell. It was just us three, and I was only a baby, but it's still embarrassing to hear about it.

"The little giggles were my favorite part though," She smiled wider. Seeing her smile like this, even from memories like that, it made me feel better. Even if it was temporary.

"Alright, let's eat lunch before it gets cold." Celine finally sat down at the table with us, and we ate in silence.

At one point when I looked up, auntie Celine was looking at mama, like she was something precious. Like how someone would look at their lover, or someone they care deeply about outside of friendship.

She noticed me looking and blushed, then proceeded to eat the rest of her lunch.

I've never seen her do that—ever. Am I crazy or is Celine in love with my mom? I couldn't help but let that thought run through my mind. I shook it off for now.

Maybe I can ask her about it later... maybe. It's not bad, but maybe this is hurting her more than I thought...

After lunch was done and dishes were washed. Mama and auntie Celine sat on the couch together, Celine sat with her legs folded under her and mom lay next to her, resting her head in Celine's lap. A blanket was draped over her, tucked under her chin. Auntie was stroking her hair gently, looking between mom and the TV.

"Hey mama?" I hesitantly asked.

"Hmm? What is it Bug?" Mama looked at me from Celine's lap.

"Umm, Alexis invited me to go out with her and another friend..." I fidgeted with my shirt, biting the inside of my cheek. It's been weeks since the last time I've been able to go anywhere besides school, and whenever I would go to the shop on occasion.

Celine looked at me, but didn't say anything. But her eyes were sharp. She never likes it when I leave the house to spend time with my best friends.

"Really? Where is she inviting you to?" She asked out of curiosity.

"There's a new cafe that opened up not far from home, and we all want to go check it out." I was hopeful that she would let me go, but I still held my breath. "I—I figured I could... bring you guys back something too."

Celine decided to cut in, "Rumi... you don't need to leave the house for something like that. What if something happens to your mother while you're gone?"

I gritted my teeth, and clenched my jaw. She always does that. She always manages to get under my skin using my mothers health as a weapon. My mom looked at Celine, scowling at her.

"Cece, what are you doing?" She asked, a little frustrated. "She can go, I'm her mother, not you. She's responsible."

Celine scoffed, but she finally agreed. "Fine..." She said with a huff.

"Be careful honey, and please keep your ringer up on your phone, just in case." My mom said, I nodded in acknowledgment.

"I will mama thank you..." I said, and went to my room to grab my bag, and skates. Then I headed out to meet the others at the cafe.

I was almost to the cafe, when I heard tires squealing to my left. I was still on the sidewalk, but a car had lost control, and was heading straight for the sidewalk. Straight at me…

This is it, isn't it? My own voice echoed in my mind.

Everything slowed down then.

Me turning. Tires spinning, screeching against the asphalt. The car sliding at an angle.

I can't move… Am I gonna die today?

A strong hand gripped my backpack, pulling me backward. An arm wrapped around my chest, another hand gripping my shoulder as I was turned away just as the car whizzed past, slamming into the shop building, now behind me.

Someone saved me? But who?

Whoever it was, they were taller than me and stronger.

We were hunched forward. I was being shielded from the debris flying in the air. Everything happened in slow motion, like in the matrix or some kind of other action movie with slow motion sequences with explosions or whatever.

Time sped up, back to normal. Two arms held me tightly, securely. Protectively. My eyes screwed shut and I curled in on myself instinctively.

I didn't even realize this person pulled my hood over my head either until they finally let go of me. Other people came out of other shops, and cars stopped, taking in the scene.

I turned around, pulling my hood off my head, and I looked up at the person standing there, the one who saved my life. My breath caught when I realized who it was.

Juno… Taller, more toned like always. She was standing there breathing hard. Her dark auburn hair was settled in waves over her shoulders, a little messy. Her sharp, deep blue eyes looked worried, scared.

"Are-are you okay?" She breathed, panting between the words. Her voice had that familiar rasp to it. There were footsteps running towards us, but they were muffled to my ears.

She saved me, but where did she even come from?

Someone called out, but it sounded like my ears were filled with water, but I could hear Juno just fine. And my attention was fully on her at that moment, eyes wide and fixed on her.

I slowly nodded, staring at the taller girl in front of me. Then my attention tore away from her as my gaze lingered on the car half inside the front of the shop.

"Oh my god… I—I almost—". I stammered my words. My mouth went dry, and my knees buckled. But she was right there again. Holding me up.

"Whoa, hey. You okay?" She said, worry in her voice. I nodded quickly.

"I just need to sit down for a minute… and take these skates off before I hurt myself." I let out a breath that was half laugh-half disbelief.

"Yeah okay, let's sit over here." She pointed to a spot where we could sit against another shop connected to the one that now has a car inside of it. I could hear sirens in the distance, but they sounded closer.

"Can I?" She asked, gesturing to my skates. I let her, and she took my skates off and replaced them with my sneakers from my backpack. I put my skates in my bag and set it to the side beside me.

I curled my legs up to my chest, wrapped my arms around them and locked my hands together, holding myself like a ball.

Then the tears started falling down my cheeks as I started to fully take in what almost happened.

Juno sat next to me and turned towards me when she heard the sniffles. She put a hand on one of my knees.

"Hey, hey—its okay… you're okay." She said softly, her voice raspy but gentle.

My voice was thick as I spoke through the tears and the crying. "I-I almost…died, Juno." She was tracing circles on my knee with her thumb, and it froze mid circle when I said it. "I almost fucking died! I froze… stopped rolling on my skates."

Juno wrapped her arm around my shoulders, pulling me close. Two familiar voices came from down the sidewalk, frantic, calling my name. But I was lost in my own spiral.

"I stood there, staring… not moving a muscle—frozen…" I whispered. "I was gonna die, and I almost let it happen… Is it bad that I wanted it to happen?"

I could hear Juno's breath catch in her throat. Two sets of footsteps slowed when they got closer. But I still didn't look up to meet their eyes. My stomach lurched, and my body shook, as I sobbed hard.

I turned into Juno, crying into her shoulder, gripping her shirt tightly in my hand.

"Why did you pull me away? Why were you there? Why you?" I cried out, muffled into Juno's shirt. I didn't even mean to say it out loud. My eyes went wide with realization.

"Rumi…"

I could hear the hurt in her voice and I stopped sobbing almost instantly. A few hics came out every few seconds until they finally stopped.

The tears still fell as I realized what I just said… "Oh.. No, Juno.. I didn't mean— that wasn't — fuck…" I took a deep breath. "I'm so sorry Juno, I didn't mean to say that out loud…"

"It's okay…" she said, and she smiled at me. But I saw it. I saw the hurt, the pain like I just stabbed her in the back. "I'm just glad you're safe…"

"No… no it's not okay.." I was shaking my head, getting up on my knees, sitting on my feet. "I should've never even thought it… I just—I've been going through a lot lately and it's becoming too much for me…"

I leaned forward and rested my forehead on her shoulder. "I'm so sorry. I fucked up… didn't I?" I said low and soft.

She lifted my head to look at her, silent tears ran down her cheeks now. She cupped my face in her hands, they were soft, and warm. She tucked a few stray black strands of my hair behind my ear. "No, you didn't do anything wrong, Rumi."

That's when I let out a breath I didn't know I was holding and immediately wrapped my arms around her. Seeing her cry over me broke me completely.

She really does care about me, doesn't she?

"But I… I still said it…" I whispered, my brows furrowing. "I… I've just been going through a lot. Too much." I leaned back to look at her, my hands moved from around her neck, to resting on her arm. Her eyes were a little red, and her usual deep blue eyes seemed lighter in the daylight. Almost piercing in a beautiful way.

Her tears had stopped and her gaze was softer, sad almost . "I'm just glad you're okay, Rumi."

Alexis finally crouched down next to us. The movement made me jump a little. "I didn't want to interrupt your moment together, but I figured this was the perfect time to cut in."

I blushed deep red when I realized I was still clutching Junos. I let go instantly and wiped my face, sniffling softly.

"The EMT guy's wanted to talk to you two. Make sure you're okay." Alexis said. Both me and Juno looked over towards an ambulance. Neither of us even noticed they had arrived yet, or that the driver of the car was still unconscious and being loaded into another ambulance.

It was probably almost 20 minutes before we finally made it to the cafe. After the EMT people looked me and Juno over, confirming we were both okay, they left with no more questions. The car was towed away, and there was a massive hole in the front of that shop.

But I was okay, we were okay.

We placed our order for some coffee and some sweets to try. The old lady that owned the cafe was the sweetest woman.

Her name is Nani. She was even shorter than me. No doubt she was in her late 60s early 70s. But she looked really good for her age. And she was always so bright.

When we found a table in the far corner, Juno and I sat next to each other. Faye and Alexis say across from each other.

5 minutes went by, and I was leaning into Juno a little, and she didn't move. In fact, she draped an arm around my shoulders, tracing circles on my arm.

I looked up at Juno, and she looked down at me. My cheeks flushed and my heart fluttered. The way she looked at me made me feel like we were the only two at the table.

I've only talked to her in our shared classes at school, and during study sessions… But she wasn't really much of a talker. She was always so quiet.

But God damn is she one hell of a softball player.

And as a bonus, she's hot.

I rested my head on the crook of her neck as we sat and listened to Alexis and Faye have a debate about whether water is wet or not… again.

I didn't realize that I drifted off to sleep until I woke back up. I felt something in my hand. I looked down and it was Juno's hand. But I didn't move mine away. I didn't want to.

I blushed super red. Realization dawned on me.

Oh god, I fell asleep on Juno… I hope she's not upset…

"Oh… I didn't mean to fall asleep. Let alone on you. I'm so sorry.." I looked at Juno apologetically.

"I really didn't mind it. After what happened earlier, I'm not surprised you fell asleep." She chuckled. It was deep and I felt the rumble.

My phone chimed in my pocket. I pulled it out and looked at the screen. There were a couple missed calls and text messages. From Celine.

"Fuck… I have to call Celine." I said, my mouth going dry. Hoping it wasn't for what I feared it might be.

I instantly went to her contact and hit the little phone icon under her name. She picked up on the first ring, like she was waiting for my call.

"Rumi! Where the hell are you?!" Her voice came blaring through the speaker into my ear.

"I'm sorry auntie, I accidentally turned my ringer off." That was a lie, but she can't know I passed out from exhaustion after almost getting hit by a car.

"Your mother told you to keep your ringer turned up Rumi. You never listen."

"It was an accident…I'm sorry okay…" she always makes me feel so shitty. "Anyway, what happened? Is Mama okay?"

"No Rumi…. She's not okay. You need to get to the hospital. Now!" Then she hung up. No goodbye. No explanation. Nothing.

I sat up more, staring at the tiny screen in my hands. My hand tightening on Juno's. My breathing quickened.

"Rumi?" Juno said, looking down at our joined hands then back to my pale face.

"Rumi? What's wrong?" Alexis asked.

"You're white as a ghost…" Faye added

I stared at the phone that I set on the table. I couldn't speak, I tried… but nothing came out. It felt like my whole entire world was crashing around me.

When I finally could speak. My voice was small and shaky. "It got worse. My mom… she's in the hospital." Tears streamed down my face now. "I have to go… now."

My voice broke with each word.

"We'll go with you. You're not going alone. Especially not after what just happened." Alexis was stern. There was no question about it. All I did was nod.

One by one we stood, well, I tried to. I couldn't. My legs didn't want to work. They felt like jelly under me.

I nearly fell but Juno, as always, was right there to catch me.

"Easy, I got you." Her voice was steady. She wrapped around my waist, her hand gripping my side enough to keep me up.

I tried again and was able to stand this time. "I-I'm okay. I can walk." She grabbed my bag for me and I put it on.

When we got outside, we started walking side by side. I lace my fingers with hers with no hesitation. She made me feel safe. Grounded.

At the hospital, we made it to my mother's room. The other decided to wait in the waiting area for now.except Juno. I wanted her with me.

I entered the room hesitantly. Juno waited in the hallway. Letting me be alone with them for a few minutes.

When I closed the door behind me with a soft click, my pulse quickened.

I saw Celine crouched by the bed, her hand holding my mother's. Her head was down until she heard me walk closer.

Her head shot up and our eyes met. She saw the tears in my eyes and it surprised me when she stood and rushed over to me to wrap me in a hug. I hugged her back after a moment.

I was shocked that she even did this at all. She never shows any kind of affection towards me. Ever.

I wrapped my arms around her anyway, without thinking. Silently crying into her shoulder. Then she pulled away after a few moments and we both walked over on either side of my mom's hospital bed.

"Mama? It's me… I'm here." I said softly. Stroking her hair with my right hand, my left holding her hand gently.

Her sunken eyes fluttered open, looking directly at me. Her grip tightened on my hand. "Rumi… my sweet sweet baby girl."

She reached up with her hand and placed her hand weakly against my cheek, wiping at my tears with her thumb. I leaned into her hand, closing my eyes and smiling softly.

"I'm sorry I wasn't there mama. I'm so, so sorry…" I whispered, holding her hand in both of mine now. The tears still fell, silent but visible. "It was only supposed to be a couple hours. That was it…"

"No, sweet baby, it's not your fault. You have nothing to be sorry about." Mama's voice was barely a whisper, but she managed to speak clear enough to be heard.

Her hand was cool to the touch, and it broke me piece by piece. Because I knew this was it. I knew there wasn't much time left.

"Promise me something Rumi." She said, lifting my head up after I let it slump onto the bed. "Promise me that you will be strong. And you will keep going after your dream."

"I will mama, I promise." My voice was even smaller than when I first came into the room.

"Here, I've been wanting to give this to you." She said and I said up straighter.

She reached over to the table beside her. I watched as she shakily grabbed a book and handed it to me. I took it carefully. It was a copy of her book she wrote when I was a little younger, 'When Darkness Finally Meets The Light'.

"Mama, is this what I think it is?" I asked, eyes wide. I sniffled a few more times as a few more tears fell down my cheek.

"That is the very first copy that I published." I kept it safe, never touched it for years. It was my second most precious thing in the world. You being the first of course." She chuckled slightly, but started coughing a little.

Celine held a cup with a straw in it up to her. "Drink, please." And she did, she took three sips through the straw.

"What's this story about mama?" I asked, curiosity piquing.

"I can't tell you, you have to figure it out on your own. One day you'll understand when you do read it." She smiled. It was weak, but it was there.

"Thank you mama." I stepped back on my knees and bowed to her, holding the book to my chest tightly with both hands.

"No no don't do that sweetheart, no need to be so formal." She said, waving her hand in the air in dismissal. I couldn't help but smile and let out a little laugh.

"I'm sorry mama, habit I suppose." I set the book down on the table. And stood quickly. I opened my mouth, then closed it. I wanted her to meet Juno. I wanted Juno to meet her, even though it's not the best circumstances.

"What is it dear?" She asked, curious.

"I… I know it’s not the best time, but I want you to meet someone. She's a friend, but…" I paused, not knowing how to continue.

"But?" She encouraged.

"But… she's important to me." I fidgeted with my shirt, not knowing what she'll say.

"Rumi now isn't the time to—" mama cut her off, putting a hand up in front of her.

She glared at Celine then her expression softened when she looked back at me. "I'd love to meet your friend honey."

I swallowed, heart pounding in my ears, then turned toward the door.

“Juno?” I called softly.

She was still standing just outside, leaning against the wall like she was afraid to intrude. When she looked up and met my eyes, something warm flickered across her face—concern, care, patience. Always patience.

“Yeah?” she asked.

“You can come in,” I said. “If you want.”

She nodded once and stepped into the room, the door closing quietly behind her. She moved slowly, respectfully, like she was walking into sacred space. When my mom saw her, her eyes sharpened with curiosity immediately.

“This is Juno,” I said, my voice trembling just a little. “She’s… she’s important to me.”

Juno bowed slightly without thinking, polite and a little stiff. “Hello, ma’am. It’s really nice to meet you.”

My mom studied her for a long moment—really looked at her. Not judgmental. Just observant. Then a small smile tugged at her lips.

“So this is the girl,” she murmured.

I felt my face heat instantly. “Mama—”

She chuckled weakly. “Relax, Bug. I can tell.” Her gaze shifted back to Juno. “Come closer, dear.”

Juno hesitated, then stepped closer to the bed. I stood between them, but my mom reached past me and gently took Juno’s hand in hers. Juno stiffened for half a second, then relaxed, letting her hold it.

“You have kind eyes,” my mom said softly. “And strong hands.”

Juno swallowed. “Thank you… ma’am.”

“You don’t have to call me that,” my mom replied. “You can call me Mi-Yeong.”

Juno nodded. “Yes—Mi-Yeong.”

Celine stood off to the side, arms crossed, watching closely. Her eyes flicked between me and Juno like she was trying to solve a puzzle she didn’t like the answer to.

My mom tilted her head slightly, studying Juno’s face again. “You’re not Korean,” she said, not accusing—just stating a fact.

Juno smiled nervously. “No, I’m not.”

“Where are you from?” my mom asked.

“I’m American,” Juno replied. “My parents and I moved to Korea about four years ago.”

My mom’s brows lifted in surprise. “Really?”

“Yes,” Juno said. “My parents helped me practice Korean a lot when we first moved. I picked it up pretty quickly.”

My mom’s smile widened, pride glinting in her tired eyes. “Your Korean is amazing. Truly. You speak it very naturally.”

Juno ducked her head, a little shy. “Thank you. That means a lot.”

I watched them, chest tight, heart aching in the strangest way. Seeing my mom look at Juno like this—warm, approving—it felt like something fragile but important was being stitched together inside me.

My mom squeezed Juno’s hand gently. “Thank you for being with my daughter today.”

Juno looked at me then, her blue eyes soft, steady. “I’ll always look out for her,” she said without hesitation.

Something in my mom’s expression shifted. She nodded once, like she’d just heard exactly what she needed to hear.

I didn’t know then how much that moment would matter later.

I just knew that, for the first time that day, the fear loosened its grip on my chest—just a little.

I swallowed hard and brushed my thumb under my eye before looking back at my mom.

“Mama… Alexis is downstairs too,” I said quietly. “In the waiting room. Faye’s with her.”

My mom’s eyes brightened immediately, like someone had turned a light on inside her. Even now. Even like this.

“Alexis?” she murmured. “I want to see her.”

My chest tightened. Of course she did. Alexis had been in our lives since we were five—scraped knees, sleepovers, birthdays, holidays. She wasn’t just my best friend. She was family.

“I don’t want to leave you again, mama,” I said, my voice cracking before I could stop it.

Before my mom could respond, Juno spoke up softly from beside me.
“I can go get her for you. It’s not a problem.”

Mi-Yeong turned her head slightly and smiled at Juno, that gentle, knowing smile she always had. “Thank you, Juno,” she said. “That’s very sweet.”

Juno nodded, gave me a brief look—steady, reassuring—then stepped out, quietly shutting the door behind her.

The room felt heavier the second she left.

A few seconds later, there was a soft knock. The doctor stepped in, clipboard in hand.

“Oh, hello there,” she said kindly. “You must be Mi-Yeong’s daughter.”

I straightened instinctively and bowed slightly. “Yes. I’m Rumi.”

She nodded and moved to my mom’s bedside, methodical and calm as she checked everything—vitals, breathing, pupils, pulse. I stood there, barely breathing myself, watching every movement like it mattered more than anything else in the world.

When she finally turned to face me and Celine, her expression had changed.

“I’m sorry,” she said gently. “Your mother’s condition has worsened. The cancer is still very aggressive and… it’s unresponsive to further treatment.”

My heart dropped into my stomach.

“What—what does that mean?” I asked, already hating the answer.

The doctor hesitated, then spoke carefully. “At this point, there’s nothing more we can do except keep her comfortable. Based on what we’re seeing… she may only have a day or two left.”

A day or two.

The words didn’t register. They couldn’t. Not really.

She gave us a moment, then quietly left the room.

A few minutes later, the door opened again. Juno came back in first, Alexis right behind her, with Faye close at her side.

Alexis went straight to my mom, dropping to her knees beside the bed like she’d done a thousand times before.

“You wanted to see me?” she asked softly.

My mom smiled, her whole face lighting up despite everything. They talked quietly, Alexis holding her hand, laughing softly at something my mom said. I watched them, throat tight, wishing—really wishing—that Alexis had been my actual sister. But having her as my best friend… it was close enough.

As evening settled in, things grew quieter. Celine stayed glued to my mom’s side, barely blinking. I ended up curled against Juno on the pullout chair, her arm around me, her presence grounding in a way I didn’t have words for.

Alexis and Faye stepped out to grab food from a little shop down the block.

At some point, without realizing it, I fell asleep.

The sound that woke me up shattered my world.

The monitors. Loud. Blaring. Wrong.

I bolted upright, heart slamming against my ribs, eyes snapping to the bed.

My mom wasn’t moving.

“—Mama?” I whispered, already knowing.

The door burst open. The doctor rushed in with two nurses and a crash cart. Everything happened so fast—too fast. They lowered the bed, laid her flat, hands moving with urgency as they started CPR.

“Clear.”

The shock jolted her body.

Again. And again.

I couldn’t move. Couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t think.

Ten minutes felt like a lifetime.

Then came the sound.

The flat, endless tone.

The doctor slowly lowered her head and stepped back.

“Time of death,” she said softly. “15:30.”

“No…” I whispered, my hand flying to my mouth.

Juno’s arm wrapped around my shoulders just as my knees gave out. This time, she didn’t try to hold me up. She followed me to the floor, kneeling with me, holding me as the scream tore out of my chest.

“NO!”

I folded forward, clutching my chest like my heart was being ripped in half.
“MAMA! DON’T LEAVE ME, PLEASE!”

I was choking on my sobs, shaking so hard I couldn’t feel my hands.

Alexis and Faye came running down the hall, skidding to a stop at the doorway. They took in the scene in an instant—my mom’s still body, the flat line, Celine standing frozen beside the bed.

“Oh no…” Alexis whispered.

They rushed to me, all three of them surrounding me, cradling me as I broke apart on the floor.

Celine didn’t move. Didn’t speak. Just stood there, staring.

Shock.

Pure, devastating shock.

And in that moment, with my mom gone and my world in pieces, I screamed until there was nothing left in me at all.

Rumi’s hands trembled as she pulled her knees up to her chest, curling tightly into herself. Zoey and Mira watched her carefully, their concern etched into every line of their faces. Her voice cracked as she tried to speak, the memories clawing their way back. She fought the tears at first, desperately trying to hold them back—but the dam had already broken.

“I… I still hear it sometimes,” she whispered, voice thick and small, “that flat line tone. The… the beeping on the monitor… It’s so loud in my head, like I’m back in that room, over and over. I… I wish it never happened. I wish she was still here. I just… I wanted to show her that I kept my promise…”

Mira stiffened, actually taken aback. The idea of the tough, protective Rumi, the girl who had always seemed almost unshakable, admitting that someone had comforted her as a child—that Juno had been gentle and caring—made her sit straighter. “Wait… Juno… she was… sweet and caring back then?” Mira asked, incredulity mixing with curiosity.

Rumi nodded, a shaky breath catching in her throat. “Yeah… at that age… it wasn’t just… quiet, distant… she… she saved me. I—” her voice caught, breaking again. She swallowed hard. “It’s weird… but… my dream… my mom… she wanted me to make something of my life. She… she pushed me… made me focus… told me I could do anything. And… the dream… it was the bar. My bar. My own place.” She let out a bitter laugh through her tears. “Weird thing to think of as a teenager, I know… but… I always liked the idea. And now… I do it. I did it. And I’m proud… proud of myself. I couldn’t have done it without Zoey, though. Not over a year ago, I wouldn’t have… known how.”

Zoey’s hand rested lightly on her shoulder, warm and steady. “And you did it, Rumi. You made it happen. You built something real.”

Rumi’s attention flicked to Mira, whose eyes were wide, attentive, almost stunned. Zoey followed her gaze and smiled softly, tucking a strand of Rumi’s hair behind her ear. “And what about… your friends? Alexis and Faye? Do you still talk to them?”

Rumi shook her head, another wave of sorrow washing over her. “Around the beginning of senior year… Juno… she made me believe… that they didn’t want to talk to me anymore. I… I haven’t really seen them since graduation. I wish… I wish I knew where they were. I wish… I could see them again.” Her voice was raw now, breaking completely, and the tears came faster, unstoppable.

Mira didn’t hesitate this time. She shifted and pulled Rumi gently into her lap, wrapping her arms around her and holding her tight. Zoey leaned close, pressing herself to Mira’s side, resting her hands lightly on Rumi’s shoulders. She brushed the damp strands of hair from Rumi’s face, her touch soothing.

“It’s okay,” Zoey murmured softly, voice firm but gentle. “We’ll help you find them one day, Rumi. I promise. We’ll figure it out together. You’re not alone.”

Rumi’s sobs began to soften as she buried her face against Mira’s chest, clinging to both of them. The weight of the memories, the grief, the longing for her mom and the friends she had lost touch with, was still heavy—but for the first time in a long while, she didn’t feel like she had to carry it alone. With Mira holding her and Zoey beside her, she could breathe—just a little—between the tears.

After 5 minutes of Rumi crying, they had settled back onto the bed against the headboard, Rumi in Mira's lap this time, which was an unexpected first. Zoey sat next to Mira, stroking Rumi's back, and occasionally wiping stray tears off her face, tucking her hair behind her ear.

"We got you baby," Zoey said as she held Rumi's hand, brushing her thumb over Rumi's knuckles, then bringing it up to her mouth to kiss the back of it

Rumi pulled away just enough to look Mira in the eyes. "Thank you, Mira…" she said. The tears had finally stopped, but her voice was still thick from the crying. "Thank you both."

She started to lean back against Mira again, but she was stopped by Mira's hand, and Rumi actually let out a whimper. Mira's hands froze mid air as she reached up to dry her cheeks with her sleeve. Blinking. Once, twice.

"Did—did you just whimper at me?" Mira asked, shocked.

Rumi couldn't help but laugh. That laugh that made both her girlfriends' hearts melt. It was genuine, and warm. "I didn't—that wasn't—it just—slipped out."

Rumi covered her face with her hands, fell against Mira again, face buried in the crook of her neck, and groaned. Mira couldn't help but chuckle a bit.

"Hey, It's okay, it was…cute." Mira said with a small smile, blushing. Zoey tried to stifle a laugh, but failed.

"You two are ridiculous, but I love it. And I love both of you." Zoey said kissing both of them, Rumi first then Mira. Each kiss with as much love as she can give this morning.

Zoey clapped her hands together, "Now, who's ready for another lazy Sunday?" She stood up on the mattress and jumped off the bed and practically ran out of the room into the kitchen.

Mira only smiled and shook her head. "Annnnd let the chaos begin." Rumi gave a small laugh in agreement.

"Yeah, but that's Zoey for you." Rumi sat up again, but didn't lean back too far, before leaning into Mira and kissing her. Softer than Zoey did, and slower. Mira melted into it, her eyes fluttering closed and her world blurring around her for a moment.

"Gods, I will never get tired of you kissing me like that." Mira said, as Rumi pulled away.

"Good, because I wouldn't want you to." Rumi purred against her mouth before kissing her again. Then she pushed off of Mira, and hopped off the bed, and extended her hand to Mira. "Come on, lover girl. Let's go help Zoey make breakfast.

Mira reached for her hand, their fingers entwining with each other's. But Mira pulled Rumi close to her instead as they stood. Still taller than Rumi, so she has to look up at her being so close now, chest to chest. Mira doesn't say anything, she just leans down and kisses Rumi, slow and soft.

"I love you so much, I'm sorry that you went through that… But you're stronger now right? No chance of you breaking?"

Rumi looked at her, eyes glassy from tears threatening to escape again. "Honestly… I don't know. I've broken before, and there's a chance I might break again." Rumi's gaze dropped to Mira's arm, her hand hovering over the spot where there were hidden scars, just below her shoulder, she's never asked about.

Rumi lifted Mira's sleeve to her sleep shirt, revealing raised scars. Old, but still showed the proof of deep, deliberate cuts. Mira watched her with steady eyes as she traced each one with her fingertips. "You never told me about these. I've seen them in the shower with you, but never wanted to pry."

"Maybe some other time, okay?" She cupped Rumi's jaw in her fingers, gentle but guiding. Pulling her in for another kiss. This one was just as soft as the last one, but it kept Rumi grounded. A silent promise planted on her lips.

When they pulled away, Rumi looked up at Mira once more, her lips curling into a smile.

"There she is. There's my bad ass girlfriend." Mira smiles down at her.

"Badass girlfriend, huh?" Rumi says as she pushes away from Mira, her right eyebrow raised. Mira only nodded her head. Once.

"Yes." Then her gaze dropped to Rumi's fingers laced with hers, then back up to the scar on her lip. Her thumb brushed over her bottom lip, over the scar. It sent a shiver down Rumi's spine without her realizing it. "Even though I was terrified that day… I was still mesmerized by how you looked. How you held your own against Juno. How you looked like you weren't going to break. Not by her."

Rumi smiled up at her, kissing her softly only for a couple seconds. "And I'd do it again in a heartbeat… for you and Zoey. It's my job to protect both of you."

Mira couldn't help but let out a sigh, leaning her forehead against Rumis. "Then I guess I'll stay safe so you don't have to feel obligated to do that again."

"Come on, then. Let's go eat a safe breakfast with Zoey. She's probably almost done anyway." Rumi turned and pulled Mira along gently.

They joined Zoey in the kitchen, hands entwined together in silent promise to each other as they helped their shorter girlfriend finish putting breakfast together.

They sat at the table, plates filled with stacks of french toast, sprinkled with powdered sugar, topped with sliced bananas, kiwi, and strawberries, drizzled with honey. and Zoey insisted on eggs on the side for the protein.

"Zoey, baby, your food is supposed to go in your mouth." Rumi said. Zoey had a little bit of powdered sugar on her cheek from missing her mouth entirely from starting at Mira.

"Huh? Oh, oops," with a little giggle she wipes at the opposite side of her mouth. "Did I get it?"

Rumi giggled, shaking her head, "nope, still there."

"I got it," Mira said as she leaned over to Zoey, her fingers gentle on her jaw. Zoey expected her to wipe it off with her finger or a napkin. NOPE. In fact the complete opposite. She leaned in closely, their faces close together.

Her breath hitched as Mira inched even closer, and promptly licked it off her cheek, slow and deliberate. She then wiped at the spot with her thumb, drying it off. "There, no more messy face."

Rumi snorted as she watched it unfold. Zoey on the other hand, was not having it. "You—you little shit, you licked me!" She shrieked. The blush that bloomed across her face accentuated her freckles. She looked so damn cute when she got flustered or embarrassed like that.

Mira smirked, then laughed a little. "You're the little shit here, Zo."

"Hey! Don't bring my height into this!" Zoey protested, waving her fork at Mira.

"Or what short stack, you gonna fork me to death?" Mira teased, her chin resting on the back of her wrist, eyes half lidded in the smug way she liked to look at Zoey when they played like that.

"Listen here thick thighs, I'll fork you if I want to." Rumi choked on a bite of food at the 'thick thighs' comment.

"ZOEY!" Rumi choked out, pounding on her chest to dislodge the piece of French toast she almost inhaled into her lungs. "What the fuck?"

Mira blinked, stunned, then looked down at herself. She didn't realize she'd put on that much weight to be considered…thick.

"Whaaat! It's true! Look at her, and tell me I'm wrong!" Zoey said as she stood up, pulling at Mira's arm, guiding her to stand as well

Mira's face went red when Zoey suddenly lowered herself in front of her, crouching down. "Spread 'em, babe." Zoey said, hands on Mira's thighs.

"Wait—what?!" Mira squeaked in a husky way. Face red as a tomato.

Zoey didn't repeat herself, she only gave Mira a look. Deadpan. And Mira obeyed immediately, spreading her legs apart slightly, adjusting her balance so she wouldn't fall over. Holding her hands up over her stomach, not really knowing what to do with them.

Zoey shook Mira's thighs with her hands, watching them jiggle until they stilled again. Rumi was mid drink of her juice before she choked on it at the sight, not expecting Zoey to do that at all.

"Holy FUCK!" Rumi choked out, using her hand to wipe the juice dripping from her chin.

"See?. Thick thighs. And don't get me started on her ass…" Zoey grinned wide, her hands sliding up Mira's thighs, her thumbs hooking under the hem of Mira's shorts. It was driving her insane right now.

Mira did her best to hold her composure at the feeling, but her face going red and the goosebumps forming on her skin gave her away. She was sure Zoey knew, and when she looked down at her, the look on Zoey's face proved her point.

And it got worse when Zoey slid her hands around her thighs, under the hem of her shorts to her ass, cupping her ass cheeks pulling Mira closer to her. Heat coiled in her lower abdomen, and she bit her lip to help stifle any sounds she might make.

But that was ineffective as she still yelped a little, as Zoey held her tight against her, kissing her stomach that showed a little between her shirt and shorts.

The feeling made Mira tingle and shiver. Her knees wanted to buckle underneath her. "Z-Zoey…"

"Zoey, You're gonna make our girlfriend fall over if you don't stop touching her like that." Rumi said, noticing Mira's face and her wavering.

Zoey looked back at Rumi. "Aww, come on Rumi, I know you like looking at this hot, sexy, beautiful goddess too." She purred looking back at Mira, eyes half lidded. Dangerous. "I'd rather have her for breakfast."

"Zoey…" Rumi said her name sternly. "Don't make me force you to eat again you horny little menace."

Zoey just grinned helping Mira steady herself. She stood on the balls of her feet, pulling Mira down into an apologetic kiss, but Rumi chokes on her juice because of what Mira does next. Completely surprising them both.

Mira allows herself to be pulled down enough to kiss the short woman. Right before they pull apart, her hands snake down Zoey's body, following her curves, gripping her ass and pulling her up.

"W-Wait! Mira!" She protests, holding onto Mira as she's hoisted in the air and swung around onto the island counter. Her hands gripped the sides of Zoey's knees, pulling her to the edge of the counter, her legs now resting on either side of Mira's waist.

Mira pulled her flush against her, she was at eye level now. Something she's not used to because Mira is so tall compared to her. She likes this more than she would like to admit.

Mira's right hand was on the counter next to Zoey's hip, leaning slightly into Zoey. Her thumb hooked into the hem of Zoey's own shorts, pulling them taut against her leg. Her other hand was on her stomach under her shirt, not moving, just resting there.

"You wanna tease me?" Her voice was a dangerously low rasp. Leaning in but stopping just an inch away from Zoey's lips. Her breath was hot against her skin. Their noses brushing softly.

"C-Can't… help it." Zoey whispers against Mira's lips, swallowing hard.

Then her hands were on her thighs, squeezing gently. "How do you think I felt when you touched me here?" Mira's voice resonated in Zoey's chest. She swallowed hard.

Her hands were soft and warm on Zoey's skin, which displayed little goosebumps covering every inch. She pressed herself against Zoey, placing a hand on her lower back, holding her close as she kisses and nibbles her neck. Her other hand holding Zoey's chin up, turning her head slightly to give Mira more access to her neck.

She kissed her neck, a featherlight touch. Zoey whimpered, not even trying to hold it in. "Fuck…Mira…"

Then Mira pulled away.

Zoey let out a whimper, looking at Mira with disbelief. "What's wrong with you?"

"You started it, babe." Mira smiled, then she leaned in to give her a real kiss. Her hand splayed on Zoey's back pulling her close. "I took the opportunity to get you back right away."

"Oh you are bold." Zoey said, still blushing. "Never knew you had it in you to be honest."

"I mean, I got my confidence, and I wanted to show it…" Mira's gaze fell, her face frowning.

Zoey lifted her hand to her face, slowly, cupping her cheek. She lifted Mira's head up to look at her. "Hey, I wasn't saying it as a bad thing, baby. I promise. I just didn't expect it. In fact, I love it. I love this side of you."

Mira smiled. It was small, but it was warm.

"But seriously, you look amazing though." Zoey said with a warm smile in return.

Rumi watched as Zoey and Mira had this moment, silent at the table behind them. Then she clears her throat, getting their attention, bringing them back to reality. "Umm, babes? As much as I loved the show, you two need to sit back down and finish breakfast."

"Sorry…" They say in unison. Then Mira helps Zoey down from the counter and they sit back down at the table.

"She's right you know, Zo." Rumi said, grinning as she stabbed her fork into the remainder of her french toast. "You did start it, and deserved the payback."

"Whose side are you on?" Zoey said through a bite she just put in her mouth. She chewed and swallowed. "You were my girlfriend first, you're supposed to be on my side."

"I'm not on sides, only stating facts." Rumi said with a crooked smile. A little cockiness to her words.

All Zoey could do was sigh. She knew Rumi was right. She did start it, but doesn't regret it. "Yeah… but she could've finished what she started. Kissing my neck does things to me, you know…"

Mira looked at Zoey, eyes lidded, her chin propped up on her palm. "Maybe later." She winked at Zoey with that remaining confidence, watching Zoey blush again.

She laughed, taking a bite of her breakfast.

She loved it here, with them, eating breakfast on yet another lazy Sunday. Even if Zoey did start with the teasing and she gave it back, making things worse for both of them in a good way.

"Seriously though Mir…" Rumi said, pulling Mira's gaze up from her French toast. "You really have put on a little bit more weight, and it does make me happy."

Mira blinked at Rumi. "It-It does? Why?"

Rumi smiled. "Because over four months ago, you scared the ever living shit out of me—out of us… with how skinny you were." Rumi's gaze dropped, not really looking at anything in particular. The air shifted slightly.

"I remember… trust me. I remember struggling to even stand in one place without feeling like my legs were going to give out under me." Mira had tears in her eyes at the memory. "I also remember that's the first time I've ever seen you break like that. Over me…"

"Mira, baby. It was because we loved you, we didn't want to lose you before we had the chance to tell you." Rumi said with a smile.

"I remember like it was yesterday actually…" Zoey added, her voice small. The teasing she had done with Mira was completely gone now.

"Yeah, so do I…" Mira agreed as she looked at her left arm. Two stark lines snaked up her arm from her wrist, to an inch from her elbow. Her fingers traced the lines, as the memory came back to her…..

Roughly four and a half months ago….

The apartment was too quiet that evening. Mira sat curled on the couch, a blanket pulled around her shoulders, absentmindedly tracing the rim of her coffee mug. She was still skinny from months of stress, the memory of Juno’s abuse etched into her frame. Even now, weeks after Juno had been taken away, her body still betrayed her anxiety—sudden noises made her jump, her heart spiking without warning.

Rumi was perched on the arm of the couch, glancing at some papers she had been sorting, while Zoey fidgeted with her laptop on the other side, half-watching a drama, half-listening to the soft hum of the apartment.

It had been a couple weeks since Juno had gone to jail, but the relief was still mixed with a shadow of unease. Mira tried to focus on her new life—decorating her room, spending time with her roommates—but even with them by her side, her body reminded her of the months spent in fear.

The sharp ring of Mira’s phone cut through the quiet, making all three of them jump slightly. Mira herself flinched hard, her body tensing. She grabbed the phone from the coffee table. The screen read: Reggie.

She had given him her new phone number in case he needed to reach her for whatever reason. But she didn't expect the reason for his call today.

“Hello?” she answered, trying to keep her voice steady.

“Mira… hey, it’s Reggie,” came the familiar voice, a little strained. “I have… I have news about Juno.”

Mira’s heart skipped. Rumi leaned closer, resting a hand lightly on her shoulder. Zoey set her laptop aside, sensing the tension.

“The officer she shot… he didn’t make it. He passed away in the ICU.” There was a pause. “Because of that… Juno’s been sentenced to life in prison. No parole.”

The words hit like a cold gust of wind. Mira’s hands tightened around her phone, knuckles white. Relief and grief tangled together in her chest.

Mira's eyes were focused on nothing in front of her at the words. "Th-Thank you, Reggie." She said, voice a little shaky. She hung up the phone, letting it fall into her lap.

Rumi kept a steadying hand on Mira’s arm. “Mira… it’s over. You’re safe now.”

Zoey nodded, her tone soft. “Yeah… she can’t hurt you anymore. You’re free.”

Mira’s lips trembled. “I… I’m actually… free.” Her voice cracked slightly, but the weight of those words was liberating. "There's literally no chance of her hurting me again… Or Rumi."

Even as she said it, a loud bang from the street outside made her jump sharply, clutching the blanket around her a little tighter. Zoey immediately leaned over to hold her. “It’s okay, Mira. Nothing’s going to get you now.”

Rumi added, her voice quiet but firm, “You’ve got us. You’re not alone.”

Mira let out a shaky breath, leaning back against the couch, letting their presence comfort her. For the first time in what felt like forever, the terror of the past weeks began to loosen its grip. The future didn’t feel quite as scary anymore.

Rumi leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss to the top of Mira’s head, just like she had in the hospital—quiet, grounding, a silent reassurance that she was safe. Mira shivered slightly at the contact, clutching the blanket tighter around her shoulders, and for a moment, the apartment felt a little less heavy.

Rumi placed a gentle hand on her shoulder. "I'll be right back okay?"

She tried to keep her voice steady as her emotions started to surface as her gaze settled on Mira's frame, and how she looked so tired.

One major threat was finally gone, forever. But there was another threat they had to address, and Rumi didn't know how to bring it up to Mira yet.

Rumi straightened, looking at Zoey. “Can you… help me with something in the bedroom?” she asked softly. Even as she spoke, Zoey sensed it was more than just a chore. It was an excuse to leave Mira alone, to not make her feel worse about how frail she looked.

They both silently slipped into the room, closing the door behind them. The moment it clicked shut, Rumi sank to her knees, her shoulders slumping forward, hands relaxed on her legs.

Zoey froze for a second before crouching in front of her. “Hey, hey, hey… what’s going on, baby? Talk to me.” Her voice was gentle but urgent, steadying her girlfriend.

Rumi’s eyes glistened, tears threatening to fall. She rarely ever cried—not like this. Not for herself, at least. But now, every worry she’d bottled up about Mira poured out.

Her voice caught in sobs. “It’s… it’s Mira… she’s… she’s so… so… skinny, Zoey. Deathly skinny… I… I’m scared… I don’t want anything to happen to her.”

Zoey’s heart tightened. She knew Rumi cared deeply for Mira, but hearing her like this—so raw and unfiltered—made the worry feel almost tangible. She reached out, wrapping her arms around Rumi’s trembling shoulders, holding her tight.

“I know, Ru… I know. She’s fragile right now, but we’re both here. We’ll make sure she’s safe, okay? Together.”

Rumi hiccuped through her sobs, finally allowing herself to lean into Zoey’s embrace. “I just… I can’t stop thinking about what she’s been through… how she’s been… hurt… and I… I don’t know if I can watch her go through anything ever again.”

Zoey pressed a kiss on Rumi's temple. “Then we won’t let her. We’re her family now. The three of us—we’ve got this. You don’t have to carry it alone, Ru.”

Rumi’s hands slowly unclenched, her breath evening out as Zoey held her. “I… I just want her to be safe… and happy… and healthy…”

“And she will be,” Zoey whispered. “With us. Always.”

Mira pushed herself up from the couch, setting her coffee mug and sketchbook gently on the table. Her legs trembled a little when she stood—she chalked it up to still waking up, though she knew deep down it was more than that. She started toward her bedroom, fingertips brushing her door handle, when a sound across the hall made her pause.

Crying.

Then Rumi’s voice—muffled, broken, unlike anything Mira had heard from her.

Mira’s hand slipped from the doorknob. She stood there, frozen in the quiet hallway, heart thudding softly in her chest. She didn’t mean to listen. She wasn’t trying to eavesdrop. But the words… they sank straight into her.

“…she’s so… so skinny… deathly skinny… I’m scared…”

Mira stared down at herself—her thin arms, the sharpness of her wrists, the jut of her collarbones visible through her oversized shirt. She hadn’t really looked at herself in weeks.

“No wonder it’s still so hard to walk…” she whispered, almost ashamed to hear the truth spoken aloud.

She swallowed hard and turned, walking slowly back toward the couch. Her legs wobbled. She gripped the wall without realizing she had. She’d almost made it out of the hallway when the bedroom door opened.

She stopped.

Turned.

Rumi stood in the doorway, eyes red and puffy, makeup smudged, tears still shining on her cheeks. Zoey hovered behind her, worry stamped across her face.

The moment Rumi saw Mira standing there, she froze.

Mira swallowed, voice small. “I… I accidentally overheard what you said… and I—”

Rumi stepped forward quickly, cutting her off, her melodic voice thick with tears, deeper than usual, strained from crying.

“I noticed it in the hospital,” she said shakily. “But I didn’t say anything. I noticed when we brought you home, and I didn’t say anything then either…”

Her voice cracked again as fresh tears welled. “And when you were holding my arm that day—looking at my bloodied knuckles—I could see your pulse in your wrist.”

Mira’s breath hitched.

Rumi kept going, even as she sobbed, her voice trembling. “It was a clear, visible pulse… and it shouldn’t be that visible, Mira. It—” She choked on her breath, forcing the words through her tears. “It broke my heart. And I just… I care about you too much already.” Her shoulders trembled as Zoey gently touched her back. “I don’t… I can’t lose you, Mira…”

Mira’s eyes filled instantly. Her stomach twisted with guilt, fear, and something deeper she didn’t have the words for yet. She stared at Rumi—Rumi, who was always composed, always steady—and seeing her like this, unraveling from worry…

It hurt.

It warmed.

It terrified her.

And it meant everything.

Mira didn’t move at first. The tears slipped down her cheeks in quiet streams—silent, steady. No sobs, no shaking breaths. Just… release. She stared at Rumi’s broken expression, and something inside her cracked too.

“I… I didn’t realize it was this bad,” she whispered, voice thin but steady. “I haven’t really looked at myself in a while… I’m sorry…”

Zoey moved before Rumi could even lift her head—quick, gentle, grounding. She stepped right up to Mira, lifting both hands to Mira’s face, thumbs brushing the tear tracks. She tilted Mira’s head down slightly so their eyes met.

“Hey. Listen to me,” Zoey said softly, but with that firm, warm tone she used when she wanted Mira to hear her. “There is nothing—nothing—you need to be sorry about. Okay?”

Mira blinked, more tears falling. She nodded slowly. “I’ll do better. I… need to.” Her voice gained a small spark—weak but real. “I want to.”

Then she turned toward Rumi.

Her legs trembled, but she forced them to move—one step, another, slow and unsure. Rumi watched her through her tears, chest aching with every shaky step Mira took.

When Mira finally reached her, she didn’t hesitate. She wrapped her arms around Rumi tightly, holding on like she meant it. Like she needed it.

“Please hug me back,” Mira whispered, breath ghosting Rumi’s ear. “I promise I won’t break.”

Rumi didn’t even hesitate.

Her arms snapped around Mira’s waist instantly, pulling her flush against her. She buried her face into the crook of Mira’s neck, sobbing harder now—openly, freely. Everything she’d held in the last few weeks poured out all at once. Mira held her just as tightly, one hand slipping up into Rumi’s hair, the other on her back.

And then Zoey stepped in behind them—wrapping her arms around both of them, pulling Mira back against her chest. A protective embrace circling the three of them.

Mira stood there, surrounded, held together by two people who cared for her more than she’d ever been cared for in years.

For the first time in a long time, the weight inside her chest didn’t feel so impossible.

A couple of hours passed in a calm haze. Lunch had been eaten—simple, light, but Mira finished more than she expected to. Rumi and Zoey quietly cleaned up the apartment afterward, moving around with a silent rhythm they’d learned over the years, while Mira stayed curled on the couch.

She didn’t waste the time, though. Her sketchbook sat open across her knees, pencil moving carefully, thoughtfully. She drew Rumi first—her gentle eyes, her quietly expressive face. Then Zoey—the playful grin, the softness around her eyes when she looked at someone she cared about. She’d memorized these details long before she realized she had.

And then she drew herself.
Not the version sitting on the couch now.

A version from years ago—healthier, softer, the girl she last remembered seeing in the mirror before life swallowed her up.

Rumi came up behind the couch quietly, leaning forward and bracing her elbows on the back cushions. Her voice was soft with awe.

“That’s amazing, Mira!”

Mira glanced back at her—and for the first time since she moved in… she didn’t flinch. No jolt. No wide-eyed jump.

She just smiled. Warm, small, real.

“Thanks,” Mira murmured. “I wanted to draw us. But… this is the last time I remember seeing myself properly.”

Rumi didn’t walk around the couch—she hopped over the back, landing gently beside Mira like she’d practiced it a hundred times. She made sure not to bounce the cushions too much, aware of Mira’s still-fragile body.

“May I look at it better?” Rumi asked.

Mira nodded and handed the sketchbook over.

Rumi tucked her hair behind her ear and lowered her gaze to the page. She studied every detail with an almost reverent focus, fingertips tracing the pencil lines like they were something fragile and precious. Her breath slowed. Her eyes softened.

Mira didn’t look at the drawing.
She watched Rumi instead—the way her lashes lowered, the tiny crease between her brows when she focused, the almost-smile tugging at her lips.

Rumi finally looked up.

“This is really good, Mira,” she said, handing the sketchbook back with gentle hands. “I mean it. It’s amazing. Truly. You have a talent—you know that, right?”

Mira looked down at the page again. “I’ve been drawing since I was younger. Way younger. I even… went to school for it.” A sad, wry smile pulled at her lips. “But I had to leave.”

“Why?” Rumi asked softly.

Mira’s voice tightened. “…Juno.”

That name hung between them like a shadow—cold, heavy, familiar.

Rumi’s chest rose and fell slowly. She didn’t ask anything else. She didn’t pry. She just nodded, understanding written all over her face.

She shifted closer—close enough that their legs touched—and leaned her head gently against Mira’s shoulder.

“I’m glad you’re drawing again,” Rumi murmured. “I’m glad you’re here.”

Mira swallowed, throat tightening. She wanted to speak, but instead leaned her cheek against the top of Rumi’s head, closing her eyes.

For the first time in years, it didn’t hurt to imagine a future version of herself again.

A few days later.

Rumi sat on the couch that morning, sipping her coffee and reading a book, the apartment still quiet and slow with the early hour.

Mira, meanwhile, woke up in her room feeling like she’d been hit by a bus.

Her chest felt tight the moment she opened her eyes. Breathing took effort—shallow, strained. Her head pounded, and her limbs felt heavy, weak in a way she was still getting used to. She was already frail from how thin she’d become, her body lacking the strength it once had.

She groaned softly, trying to will herself back to sleep.

Her bladder had other plans.

“Fuck…” she muttered under her breath, forcing herself upright. The movement made her dizzy, but she swung her legs over the side of the bed anyway, slipped her slippers on, and stood. Slowly. Carefully. Her steps were unsteady as she made her way toward the bathroom.

Thankfully, it was only a few steps down the hall, just to the right of her room.

She made it inside and didn’t look at the mirror—went straight to the toilet, focusing only on breathing and getting through it. It was only afterward, while washing her hands, that she finally lifted her gaze.

And froze.

She stared at her reflection.

Just… stared.

Hollow eyes. Sharp cheekbones. Her face looked longer somehow, stretched thin by weight she didn’t have anymore. Her skin was pale—too pale. Almost translucent under the bathroom light.

“Oh… oh gods,” she whispered, her hand flying up to cover her mouth.

Seeing herself like this—really seeing it—set something off in her brain. Tears came fast and sudden. She backed away from the mirror in a panic and slammed into the wall behind her.

Her breath hitched as she stood there, still seeing that reflection burned into her mind. Eyes wide. Teeth clenched.

This is what they see every day?

Her own voice echoed the thought, distorted and cruel.

You shouldn’t be alive.
You were supposed to die.
You were tossed out like trash—left to bleed.

The voices grew louder, overlapping as she stared at the image of her skeletal frame in her mind. She shook her head, hands gripping her arms.

“Please stop… n-no,” she whispered desperately. “I promised… I promised I’d be okay. I promised I’d do better…”

The voices didn’t listen.

Then she heard her.

Deep. Raspy. Familiar.

Juno…

“Look at you,” the voice sneered. “You’re a mess.”

Mira’s breath caught.

Juno stood there—looming over her, like a beast cornering prey. Her eyes raked over Mira with disdain, a snarl curling her lips.

“Pathetic.”
“Weak.”

“You’re not real,” Mira whispered, shaking her head. “You’re in prison. You can’t be here…”

Juno leaned in, bending slightly, bracing an elbow against the wall beside Mira’s head. Inches away.

“Oh, I’m just as real as your mind will let me be, Princess.”

Mira flinched as Juno raised a hand, bracing instinctively—waiting for the slap, the punch, the choking.

It never came.

Instead, glass shattered.

A sharp bang echoed through the apartment. The bathroom door rattled, and the door handle jiggled but didn’t open.

“Mira?!” Rumi’s voice shouted from the other side of the door. “Hey—open the door, please!”

Juno’s grin widened.

Mira tried to speak, but Juno’s hand clamped over her mouth.

“Ah, ah, ah,” she murmured. “No speaking, little bird. You need to bleed more for me.”

Mira felt the sting before she understood what was happening.

She looked down.

Blood seeped from a fresh cut on her arm. Then another.

Two dark red lines stood out starkly against her pale skin.

“That’s a good girl,” Juno whispered, venomous. “You listen so well.”

And then she was gone.

Just like that.

Mira collapsed to the floor, her body folding in on itself. Blood pooled beside her hand, dark against the black-and-white tile.

Something pressed into her other palm.

A shard of glass.

A piece of the mirror.

No.

Her breath hitched violently as realization crashed over her.

She had broken it.
She had done this.

“No… no, no, no…” she whispered, panic spiraling.

The bathroom door finally gave way.

Rumi and Zoey stood there, frozen.

Rumi’s gaze immediately dropped to Mira’s arm, still oozing crimson.

“Oh my god—Mira!” Zoey moved first, scrambling for towels. “It’s okay, I’ve got you, Mira—you’re okay.”

Rumi couldn’t move.

She just stared.

Mira’s pale skin streaked with blood. The dark pool spread on the floor. Her heart raced, breath shallow, hands clenched into fists so tight her nails carved crescents into her palms.

“RUMI!” Zoey shouted. “Snap out of it! We need to get her to the hospital—now!”

That broke the spell.

Rumi moved instantly.

“Get the car ready,” she barked. “I’ll carry her.”

Protector mode snapped into place—the same one from the night Mira had come to the bar bleeding out. Rumi scooped Mira into her arms, holding her close.

“I’m sorry, Rumi… I didn’t—” Mira tried, weakly.

“It’s okay,” Rumi cut in, voice steady despite the ache beneath it. “Don’t talk. Not yet.”

They reached the car quickly. Zoey helped Rumi settle into the back seat with Mira before slamming the door and racing around to the driver’s side. She didn’t even bother with her seatbelt—just threw the car into gear and peeled out of the lot, heading straight for the hospital.

Mira lost consciousness halfway to the hospital.

Rumi felt it before she fully realized it—how Mira’s body went slack in her arms, how the faint warmth she’d been clinging to began to fade. Her skin felt colder. Too cold.

“Mira?” Rumi whispered, panic threading through her voice. She adjusted her grip, holding her tighter, as if sheer will could keep her awake. “Hey—no. Stay with me. Please…”

Zoey glanced back from the driver’s seat, her knuckles white around the steering wheel. “We’re almost there,” she said firmly, even as her voice trembled. “Just stay with her. I’ve got us.”

The hospital lights came too fast.

Too bright.

Everything after that blurred together for Rumi.

Hands reached for Mira. Voices overlapped—urgent, clipped. Questions were asked. Rumi opened her mouth, but nothing came out. She didn’t trust her voice not to shatter.

Zoey stepped in without hesitation.

“She lost consciousness in the car,” Zoey said, clear and steady. “She was bleeding heavily. She’s malnourished. She’s weak.”

They wheeled Mira away.

Just like that.

Rumi stood frozen a heartbeat too long—until Zoey grabbed her wrist and pulled her forward, grounding her enough to keep moving.

Mira was admitted. Taken care of.

And then there was nothing to do but wait.

Rumi unraveled.

She paced the waiting room relentlessly—back and forth, back and forth—hands shaking, chest tight, heart racing like it was trying to escape her ribcage. She couldn’t sit. Couldn’t breathe right when she stopped moving.

Zoey watched her for a moment before standing and gently reaching out. “Rumi… come sit with me, okay? You’re gonna make yourself sick.”

“I can’t,” Rumi snapped without meaning to. “I can’t just sit there while—”

The words hit Zoey harder than Rumi intended.

Zoey stopped. Her face fell—not angry. Just… hurt. She sat back down slowly, folding her hands in her lap, eyes fixed on the floor.

The silence that followed was worse than the panic.

Rumi’s breath hitched.

“Oh—Zoey, I—I didn’t—” Her voice broke.

She dropped to her knees in front of Zoey, the movement sudden and desperate. She positioned herself between Zoey’s legs, arms wrapping tightly around her waist as she buried her face into Zoey’s shirt.

“I’m sorry,” Rumi sobbed. “I didn’t mean it. I’m just—terrified. I can’t lose her. I can’t—”

Zoey immediately wrapped her arms around Rumi’s shoulders, pulling her close, one hand cradling the back of her head.

“Hey,” Zoey murmured. “I know. I know. I’m not mad. I’ve got you.”

Rumi clung to her like a lifeline until her sobs eased into quiet, broken breaths.

After nearly thirty minutes, a doctor finally approached them.

Rumi recognized him instantly—the same one who had stitched Mira’s side weeks ago.

“She’s stable,” he said gently. “But there are concerns.”

Zoey’s hand tightened around Rumi’s.

“The cuts on her left forearm were deep,” he continued. “She lost a significant amount of blood. We’ve stopped the bleeding, but she’ll need to be monitored closely for the next couple of days.”

Rumi nodded numbly, barely processing the words.

“With her level of malnutrition,” the doctor went on, “her immune system isn’t functioning properly. She’s already fighting a cold. If it progresses into the flu, it could be dangerous for her—potentially fatal.”

Rumi sucked in a sharp breath.

Zoey pulled her closer, their foreheads touching.

“The illness will also slow the healing process for the fresh wounds on her forearm,” the doctor added. “But for now, she’s okay. She needs rest, nutrition, medication—and time.”

Time.

That was the hardest part.

They were allowed to sit with her as the morning wore on, gray light outside slowly swallowed by dark rain clouds.

Rumi sat on one side of the bed, tears sliding silently down her cheeks. Her head rested near Mira’s arm, careful not to disturb the thick bandages wrapped around her left forearm—the arm she’d hurt.

Rumi didn’t understand.

“Why…?” she whispered into the mattress, more to herself than anyone else. “Why would she do this to herself…?”

Zoey heard her anyway.

“She’ll tell us,” Zoey said softly, sitting on Mira’s other side. “When she wakes up. Or when she’s ready.”

Zoey placed a gentle hand over Mira’s legs, then reached out with her other hand toward Rumi—silent, open.

Rumi took it immediately.

Zoey squeezed her fingers tight. “She’s going to be okay,” she said, voice steady even through fear. “I just know it.”

Rumi nodded, turning her head to look at Mira, reaching up to caress her cheek, holding Zoey’s hand like an anchor as rain began to fall outside.

And they waited.

An hour later, Mira woke coughing, her body jolting as pain flared sharply in her arm. A quiet, pained sound slipped from her throat as she tried to breathe through it.

Rumi and Zoey both stirred instantly.

“Mira?” Rumi said at the same time Zoey leaned forward.

Mira blinked, eyes unfocused at first, then slowly found them. “Rumi…? Zoey?” Her voice was hoarse, raw from crying and disuse.

“We’re right here, darling,” Rumi said softly. She placed a gentle hand on Mira’s shoulder and reached for her left hand.

Mira grabbed on—tight. Tighter than Rumi expected. Her fingers trembled as if she were afraid they might disappear if she loosened her grip.

“We’re not going anywhere,” Zoey added from Mira’s right, mirroring Rumi’s movements, her hand warm and steady over Mira’s. “Not ever.”

Mira looked between the two of them. Then her gaze dropped, shame flickering across her face.

“I–I’m sorry…” she whispered. Her eyes welled quickly, tears threatening to spill. “I didn’t mean to do it…”

“Shh,” Rumi said immediately, squeezing her hand gently but firmly. “It’s okay. You don’t have to talk about that right now.”

Mira’s grip tightened even more around Rumi’s fingers.

“It was Juno,” Mira said, her voice shaking. She shook her head weakly. “She made me do it. I—I let her get into my head again. Even though she wasn’t really there… she still was. I was hallucinating. Her being there. But I thought everything else was a hallucination. The glass shattering. The mirror… the piece she—I used…”

Her voice cracked completely at the last words.

Rumi didn’t hesitate. She leaned forward and wrapped her arms around Mira, cradling her carefully—one hand supporting the back of her head, the other secure behind her shoulder. She held her like she was something fragile and precious.

Mira let go of Zoey’s hand with her right so she could hug Rumi back as best she could, burying her face into the crook of Rumi’s neck.

“I’m so sorry,” Mira sobbed.

Rumi just held her tighter, rocking her slightly. “I know,” she whispered. “I know.”

When Mira’s breathing finally slowed, Rumi eased back just enough for Zoey to step in. Zoey pulled Mira into her own careful embrace—close, protective, but mindful of her injuries.

“Zoey…” Mira murmured.

Zoey lifted a finger gently and placed it over Mira’s lips, their foreheads pressed together. “Not another word,” she said softly. “You don’t need to explain anything. You need rest now, okay?”

Mira nodded faintly. Zoey tilted her own head up to gently kiss her on the forehead.

Then, after a moment, she added quietly, “…Thirsty.”

Rumi smiled—a small, relieved smile—and reached for the cup beside the bed the nurse had left. She carefully held the straw in place while Mira drank, watching closely, one hand still holding hers.

“There you go,” Rumi murmured. “Easy.”

Between them—hands warm, voices soft, bodies close—Mira finally let her eyes drift shut again, knowing this time she wasn’t alone.

The next morning her blood pressure had gone back to normal levels somehow, astonishing the doctor.

"Well, this is incredible. Your blood pressure is back to normal Mira." He said with a smile. She looked at Rumi and Zoey who were also smiling at her, happy for the good news.

"What does that mean for me?" She asked softly. Coughing into her elbow. She was wearing a face mask this time so as to not get others sick. "Can I go home? Or do I have to stay?"

"Let's see…." He looked over her chart. Scanning and flipping a few pages. "Well, your blood pressure levels are normal, and so far your cuts don't seem to have gotten infected. But it looks like everything else is okay. You can go home. But…"

He turned towards the other two, making sure Mira could hear too. "Her nutrition is still very low, and her antibodies are barely there. I have written a couple prescriptions to help boost her immune system and increase her appetite as well, just enough to help her eat easier so her body can absorb the required nutrients she needs."

"We'll get them filled right away, thank you." Rumi said calmly.

"Oh, and one more thing…" he writes down a name and a number and hands it to Rumi. "I have a friend who's a mental health therapist. She can help Mira if she ever needs it. Just in case."

He turns toward Mira one last time. "And I do hope this will be the last time I will have to see you in such a short time young lady." He points his pen at her in mock scolding.

Mira giggled a little at the gesture. "I don't want to have to come back so soon for any reason." She said to him, And with that, he left shutting the door with a soft click behind him.

Mira was smiling again, and it warmed Rumi and Zoey's chests. They both walked over to her, she still sat on the bed.

"Let's get you out of this hospital gown and back into your clothes and get you home. How does that sound?" Rumi said as she tucked Mira's hair behind her ear. Unconsciously caressing her cheek.

Mira found herself closing her eyes and leaning into Rumi's touch. Then she opened her eyes, blinked and pulled away. "Oh… I'm so sorry…"

"For what?" Rumi asked.

"I just—it felt nice to feel a gentle touch and not flinch away for one." She said shyly. "But maybe I should get out of this thing. Can't exactly go home in it." she laughed a little again.

She went to take it off, but realized she couldn't keep her arms up enough to untie it.

"Umm, Rumi? Can you… uh…. help me take this off?" She asked so timidly and shyly it made Rumi's heart stutter.

She blinked, nodding her head. "Yeah, sure. I can help you."

She walks over to the other side of the bed to untie Mira's gown, moving her hair out of the way to have more access to the strings. She carefully untied both of them, loosening the gown around Mira's shoulders.

She let in a sharp breath as she saw Mira's back. She could see her under her skin, way too prominent for Rumi's liking. She unconsciously let her finger trail down her back, not really meaning to. Mira let out a sound and she pulled away immediately. "I'm sorry! Did I hurt you?"

Mira shook her head, "No, no not at all. I'm okay though. She leaned back slightly, resting her head against Rumi's stomach, looking up at her. Her brown eyes were wide and inviting. "If I'm being honest, it felt… nice."

Rumi had to help her sit back up before she fell backwards. "Come on beautiful, let's get you dressed."

Zoey was watching quietly by the door. She loved the way Rumi looked at Mira. She caught herself smiling a little too big. And Mira's smile… It was big and it was real. It was beautiful.

The best sound ever is her laugh when Rumi accidentally tickles her uninjured side. Zoey leans against the wall, tilting her head against the cool surface, watching her girlfriend laugh and smile at their roommate.

Mira is dressed now, and ready to go home. To the comfort of their cozy apartment. To their couch they share. And the occasional cuddles.

Zoey watched quietly as Rumi helped Mira get dressed.

The care in Rumi’s movements—the way she stayed close without crowding, attentive without hovering—made something warm settle in Zoey’s chest. And every time Rumi looked away, Mira would sneak a glance at her, like she was checking to make sure she was still there.

Rumi was calm. Steady. She kept her emotions carefully in check when it came to Mira.

At least—until Mira suddenly reached out and grabbed her arm as she went to turn away. She turned back

It wasn’t rough. But it was firm. Intentional. The kind of grip that said don’t go without a single word.

Rumi understood immediately.

She stopped moving and stayed exactly where she was, letting Mira set the pace. When Mira tugged gently, asking for her closer without speaking, Rumi stepped in.

She stood between Mira’s legs, her knees pressing lightly against the edge of the bed. Mira’s fingers curled into the front of Rumi’s shirt, holding her there.

Zoey straightened where she stood near the door, watching carefully—waiting to see what would happen next.

Mira stayed seated on the edge of the hospital bed. Rumi stayed right where she was.

Slowly, Mira rested her forehead against Rumi’s stomach. She drew in a deep breath… then let it out, shaky and slow.

“Y-you okay, Mir?” Rumi asked softly.

Mira didn’t answer right away. She didn’t look up. She just sat there, forehead pressed against Rumi.

“Y-yeah,” she said finally. “I’m okay. It’s just…” her voice faltered a little. She squeezed her eyes shut, pressing her lips together to hold back the tears.

Her grip tightened in Rumi's shirt, and Rumi caught the faint flush rising in her cheeks.

Slowly, Rumi lowered herself in front of Mira. Mira listed her head up to look at Rumi as her left cheek was being caressed by her soft hand.

“It’s just what, sweetheart?” She asked quietly, tilting her head slightly to the right.

Mira melted at the touch. Reaching up to rest her hand on Rumis, wincing at the pull from the stitches in her arm

Zoey saw it happen—the way Mira’s shoulders slumped, the tension bleeding out of her body all at once. Rumi really did have that effect on her.

“I just…” Mira swallowed. Then the tears fell down her cheeks as she let out a little sob. “…I'm so, so sorry!”

Rumi blinked, her heart sinking slightly at the raw vulnerability in Mira’s voice.

“I broke my promise to you.”

Mira's brown eyes glistened as she looked at Rumi—then she wrapped both arms around Rumi’s shoulders, pulling her in as close as she could.

Rumi didn’t hesitate. She let Mira pull her and wrapped her arms around her immediately in return, holding her tightly.

“It’s okay, Mira,” she said softly, arms coming around her in return. “You’re okay.”

She felt it then—the way Mira’s body finally relaxed, tense muscles giving way as she sagged into her.

Zoey watched them, her heart full.

Rumi stayed exactly where Mira needed her to be.

Zoey decided to finally walk over to them, picking up the discarded hospital gown and throwing it in the hazard bin against the wall.

She walked up next to Rumi and Mira, carefully sitting next to Mira. She rubbed her back gently, avoiding pressing herself against Mira's right side to avoid her healing gashes.

She leaned over slowly and rested her head on her right shoulder, resting her other hand on Mira's knee. Silently reminding her that she's still here—still breathing, still living.

They stayed like that for a while longer.

Then they finally went home. To the comfort and coziness of their small apartment.

Present day…

Mira sat on the couch while Rumi and Zoey cleaned up after breakfast. The memory is still fresh on her mind. She holds her arm in her hands, staring at the scars on her arm, tracing the two slightly jagged lines from her wrist to an inch from her elbow.

The memory of seeing Juno flashes through her mind again and makes her breath catch in her throat, her eyes going wide.

Zoey pops up from behind the couch. "Stop thinking about it baby."

Mira blinked up at her. Her eyes were soft, sweet, and that comfort that Mira craved.

"I'm not…"

"You know, you have a tell when you lie, Mira." Zoey said as she walked around the couch and used Mira's lap as a seat instead, straddling her legs.

Mira looked at her like she said the most absurd thing ever. "I do not have a tell." She crossed her arms with a huff, even going as far as to pout.

Zoey giggled at the sight, leaning back a little. "Oh yes you do, you bite your lip every time you lie about something."

"It's a twitch, I swear." Mira said, scowling at Zoey, trying so hard not to give in to her. Not with the way she's looking at Mira like she knows the truth and is just waiting.

"Uh huh, sure it is babe." She leaned in, a little, her nose brushing Miras. "Sure it is." Then she closed the gap, kissing her lips softly.

Mira can't help but kiss her back, leaning more into it. Breathing through her nose, she wraps her arms around Zoey's waist.

Zoey pulls back a little. "You're okay though right? Like truly?"

"Mira looked at her for a moment, then smiled her stunning smile that made Zoey melt every time. "Never better. I have two beautiful, sexy girlfriends, a beautiful home, and a future. I'm more than okay Zoey."

That made Zoey giggle against her lips before kissing her again. Their tongues danced between their connected mouths. Their breaths were hot against each other as they parted once more, breathless.

"You have got to stop holding back so much babe, you're incredible." Zoey said as she leaned back on Mira's lap. She almost fell backward from leaning back too far, but Mira leaned forward and caught her, pulling her back upright.

"I know you fell for me once, but that's not how you're supposed to fall for me again, Zo." Mira said with a small laugh.

Zoey snorted at the comment. "Oh my god, that is so cheesy!"

Laughter erupted between the two, but it was soft and light. Warm, Comforting.

Rumi leaned against the Island counter, watching them. Hearing their laughter, Zoey's higher pitched giggles, and Mira's deeper chuckles. Her heart warmed when they got a little louder, giddier even.

She pushed off the counter, and sauntered over to them. She stood just behind the couch, to Mira's left, leaning on the back of the couch with her hands "Mind if I join you or is this a private party?" She joked, smiling down at Mira when she leaned her head back still smiling, face still tinted pink from the laughter.

"VIP's only, and you're one of them." She said with the cutest seriousness Rumi has ever seen on her. Mira's laugh was music to her ears.

"God you are so fucking cute like this." She said with a smile that reached her eyes, genuine and bright, and warm. She leapt over the back of the couch and plopped down right next to Mira and Zoey, just like she's done thousands of times. She leaned in and kissed Mira soft and slow, letting it linger for a moment. When they parted, Zoey was next.

Mira noticed her hair. It had grown out more and she hasn't really taken the time to touch up her roots that started to show. Black roots spread out like a little puddle on the top of her head, blending into the purple.

Her hair was also pulled back into a half-up ponytail, strands framed both sides of her face. Mira loves when she keeps her hair down because of the wolf-cut style, but she melted when she wore it up. She looked hotter somehow.

"Whoa…" Mira breathed out not realizing she actually said it out loud.

"What?" Rumi looked at Mira, she even tilted her head a little, raising an eyebrow, which made her look cute that way.

"Oh… I didn't mean to say that out loud…" she said looking shy about it. "But you look hot with your hair like that…"

"Oh? Well thank you baby." Rumi giggled and blushed. "So you really like it huh? Like this?"

Mira nodded, her face blooming red more.

She reached up and twirled one of the strands framing her face around her finger. "Yeah I do actually. I really like it like this." Her fingers threaded through the silky purple strands that draped down the back and front of her shoulders.

Rumi smiled at the touch. "Then I'll wear it like this for you more often."

That's when Mira leaned over, her left hand that was in Rumi's hair, cradled the back of her head and pulled her into a warm, lingering kiss.

She leaned a little too far and had to break the kiss and catch Zoey before she fell….. again.

She looked at Zoey apologetically, wincing at the fact that she almost knocked her off her lap.

"Jeez Mir, warn me before you do that okay? Here, let me hop off so I don't become part of the hardwood floor." She laughed which made Mira laugh too, feeling better about almost making her girlfriend fall off.

"Sorry Zoey. I got a little carried away…" she said sheepishly.

"I can tell." She laughed, kissing Mira one more time. Just a quick peck.

She hopped off and Mira immediately, without warning, lunged at Rumi knocking her back with a "OOF!" against the couch cushions.

"Whoa, hey! Easy there baby, I'm not going anywhere, okay? I'm right here." Rumi reached up with her hands and rested one on Mira's left side at her waist, and the other on Mira's cheek.

"I-I know… I just… I want you." She leaned down and kissed her again, this time slower, unhurried.

Mira shifted her weight, straddling Rumi, sitting on her thighs. She laced her fingers with Rumi's.

Rumi couldn't help but smile at Mira. "You do have us baby, you have since Halloween."

Mira shook her head. She undid her fingers from Rumi's, and slid both hands under her shirt, and rested them on her stomach for a moment, before sliding them up further. Rumi's breath hitched at the feeling.

"No, I mean I want you. To touch you, to taste you. You and Zoey. I need you." She practically begged, her voice laced with a little bit of a whine.

Her eyebrows raised and realization hit her. "Ohh… that kind of want."

"Yes…" she slid her hands higher. She could feel Rumi's chest rise and fall quicker and quicker by the second. "Can I… touch your breasts?"

"Of course you can, you don't have to ask." She reassures her, and guides her hands up further, until they lightly touch the underside of her breasts. She shivers at the touch and Mira lets out a small disbelieved huff, and smiles a little.

I can't believe I'm actually doing this… I've been wanting to touch her like this for weeks… Mira's voice echoes in her mind, she is entranced by the feeling alone.

She continues to cup the underside of each breast, gently kneading them. Then her eyes go wide as Rumi pulls her shirt up over her chest. Her breasts are now on full display.

Mira just stares, as if she's never seen tits in her life, let alone Rumi's. But she has, every time they take shared showers. She's just never touched her like this before. Not in this way.

She brushed her thumbs over her hardened nipples, feeling the buds and how they responded to her touch. She leans down, and licks a bud, flicking it with her tongue, and licking circles around it. Then she seals her mouth around it, suckling and licking at the same time.

Rumi squirms a little as Mira kneads her other breast, pinching the nipple between her index finger and thumb, rolling it.

She pulls her mouth off with a pop, and looks up at Rumi. She could tell what she was doing was working.

"Rumi?" She asks, but her voice is smaller than she expected. Rumi looks down at her, humming in acknowledgement. She already looked a little dazed. "Can… Can we please go to the bedroom? I want to taste you both."

Zoey perked up at the other end of the couch. She made her way over to the other two, kneeling behind Mira as she wrapped her arms around her waist from behind.

"Are you sure?" She asks, resting her cheek on Mira's arm.

"I've never been so sure in my life." She turned a little and kissed Zoey, slow and sure. Then she leaned down to Rumi kissing the same. "I'm ready for it."

Rumi looked between her girls, both of them on her legs now, Mira's hands still on her chest. "Well, how about we take this to the bedroom then."

"Wait…" Zoey said, looking between her girlfriends. Both looked confused. "Are we actually doing this? I'm… I'm not dreaming am I?"

Mira laughed. "No Zoey, you're not dreaming. We're actually doing this."

"YES! FINALLY!" Zoey cheered, bouncing in her spot.

They both released Rumi's legs from their unintentional trap and she stood up, holding her hands out to the girls. "Come one babes, our room awaits." Mira took one hand, Zoey taking the other. They stood, and with butterflies in Mira's stomach and Zoey semi controlled excitement, they walked to the bedroom where they only slept and had morning cuddles.

But today, it's gonna be where their bond is strengthened. A sanctuary where their love extends past simple cuddles, kisses and gentle caresses. Where Mira can finally explore more of her girlfriends.

- - - - - - - -

In the bedroom Mira was sat on the edge of the bed, Rumi and Zoey both stood in front of her. Rumi was the first to strip her shirt off. And as soon as the shirt left her hand, falling into a haphazard heap on the floor somewhere, Mira pulled her close and started preparing kisses on her chest, her clavicles, her sternum and the top of her abs.

"God, you look so fucking good like this Rumi." Mira said, a little breathless.

Next was Zoey. She wore a bright blue turns button up. She started to undo the top buttons, but Mira stopped her.

"Wait, come here… please?" She asks softly. Zoey obliges and steps a little closer. Rumi steps back just a step and watches. She was brushing her hand over Mira's hair and fondling her own breast in the meantime.

Mira slowly undone each button. Every couple buttons, she would kiss Zoey's freckled skin. Once all buttons were apart, she slowly slid the shirt off her shoulders, as it fell off of her arms. She tossed it to the side without looking.

She reached around, gripped Zoey's ass and pulled her in close. Zoey giggled and Mira smiled. There was so much love and adoration in her eyes for both of her girls.

Zoey leaned in and kissed Mira, soft and reverent, not wanting to rush into it. She didn't want to push things too far with Mira either.

But the kiss intensified as one of Mira's arms wrapped around her waist, pulling her even closer.

"Mmm, Mira!" Giggles erupted from her as Mira started to scoot back, pulling her along with her, laughing a little too.

Rumi couldn't help but join in with the laughter as she crawled into the bed with them. She sat next to Mira, whose back was pressed against the headboard, had Zoey on her lap again.

Zoey leaned over to Rumi and kissed her as Mira's hands started to slide over her thighs.

When they broke the kiss, Rumi turned to Mira, cupping her cheek. "We can take this as slow or as fast as you want to. If you want to stop, we stop—no questions asked… okay?"

Mira nodded, pulling her in for a deeper, messier kiss. "Y-yeah… okay." She said breathlessly. Then her attention switched back to Zoey.

"Can you help me with my clothes Zoey?" She asked as her hands slid up and down her things, occasionally gliding over her stomach and up her sides.

"I would be delighted to." Zoey purred. She started working immediately. Slowly working each button. One by one they came apart. One by one they slowly revealed something underneath. Once they were all undone, she pushed the fabric aside, mesmerized by the sight in front of her.

"Wow," she breathed in amazement. "They've gotten bigger too. Amazing!" She was staring in awe as she cupped them in her hands. They were bigger, yes, but still perky.

"They look lovely." Rumi agreed, voice low and melodic in her ear. Mira shivered.

Without a word, Zoey pulled the loosened fabric off of her shoulders, and off her arms. She tossed the shirt haphazardly off to the side. Then she settled further in Mira's lap, leaning down. "Can I?" She wraps her hand around as much of her breast as she can, her mouth next to Mira's already hardened nipple.

Mira's voice was shaky. "Yes… please" she whined at the touch. She wanted more, she wanted them, but she also didn't want to rush this. Not with it being her first time with them. But dammit, she was hungry for them, starving even.

Zoey continued licking Mira's nipple, gently flicking it with her tongue. The warm wetness made Mira moan slightly, trying not to be loud.

Rumi cupped her other breast, squeezing gently then kneading the soft, perky and plump mound. "Can I kiss you again?"

"Do you really need to ask?" Mira said, trying to sound confident, but Zoey's hands on her made it difficult.

Rumi huffed a content laugh. She then leaned in slowly, inching her way towards Mira's mouth with hers. The closer she got, the faster Mira's heart beat. This was different. More intimate.

The kiss was warmer, and had more passion. She kissed running with a little more fervor and rumi returned it. Kneading her breast still as they made out while Zoey watched, latched onto Mira's nipple still. Then she let go with a pop.

"You are driving me insane actually, you both are." Zoey only giggled and let out a little moan of contentment as her grip tightened on her breasts, nipples being pinched between fingers. "You know you love it. And you're not telling us to stop entirely."

Mira broke the kiss with Rumi, breathless, she sat up, pulling Zoey closer. The sudden movement drew a squeak out of her tiny girlfriend.

She flipped over, now hovering over her on her hands and knees. "Can I… take these off you now?" She tugged at Zoey's pajama pants.

Zoey looked down at her hand then back up at Mira's face. "yeah, of course you can. Do you need me to do anything?" Mira only shook her head.

"No, I just want you to stay right where you are." Mira said, her voice level, more controlled than either of them expected. She was focused on sliding her pants down, slowly but not too slow as her patience was running thin.

With the pants now gone, still in her underwear, Mira couldn't help but stare at the beauty in front of her. Her skin looked so soft. Fuck, I want her so bad right now!

Her hands explored her skin like she was mapping out every inch, every curve and every dip. She splayed her hand out over her stomach, her other hand moving to Zoey's breast.

"Zoey…" she said, kind of dazed. She leaned down and nuzzled Zoey's neck. Leaving kisses in the wake of her skin.

"Hmm?" She hummed, curious.

"I love you so much…" she said, whispering against her skin.

"I love you more, babe." Zoey murmured back, her hands on Mira's back, nails lightly raking her skin. Then she whispered in her ear. "Maybe you should give Rumi some attention for a bit."

Mira pulled her head away, looking at Zoey. "Are-are you sure?"

"I'm positive, I want to see you with her first anyway." She giggled a little, pulled miss down into another kiss and let her go.

Rumi had lay down next to them, head propped up with her hand. She glided her left hand over Mira's skin, watching the goosebumps form under her touch. Her gaze lifted when she noticed Mira moving. Towards her.

"Mira? I thought you wanted Zoey right now."

"She told me to come over here to you, wanted to watch first."

"Of course she did…" Rumi eyed Zoey, squinting at her but she was still smiling despite herself. Then her attention was pulled back to Mira who hovered over her.

"Can you lay flat for me, please?" Rumi did. Mira then swung a leg over, straddling her hips. "Give me your hand?" Again Rumi obliged, handing Mira her left hand. She slowly, but surely guided Rumis hand to her scars. Rumis breath hitched slightly.

"Mira I-"

"Don't… It's okay. You don't really touch them a lot, and I know why. But I want you to know."

They never will be the same color as her pale skin again, they'll always be darker, they'll always look awful, but she knows they don't look like that to them. She's never really let them touch them even in the showers they've shared over the last couple months. But tonight, she wanted them to—needed them to.

She wasn't broken anymore, she was still healing yes, but she was whole. And now she has both of her girlfriends naked in front of her, and they're about to learn each other's bodies in ways they haven't been able to yet.

"God Mira… you really are gorgeous, aren't you? In every possible way." And those words made her melt. She smiled down at Rumi before leaning down to press her forehead against hers.

"No, that's you. Both of you. You two are the most beautiful and gorgeous women I've ever thought I would be dating, let alone about to have sex with. That made Rumi and Zoey laugh. It was warm, but the intimacy was still there.

Mira finally kissed her, soft and slow. Rumi's fingers traced the jagged scars on her side as their kisses, soft moans and their breaths filled the room. Mira broke the kiss staying close. "Can I touch you, please?" Mira asked softly, a little breathless and her voice a little shaky now. Nervous from the question.

Rumi nodded instantly. "Yes, please…" Mira smiled when she heard the desperation in her voice. The want—the need for Mira. She leaned down cupping her left breast, flicking her nipple with her tongue before closing her mouth around it, suckling slightly. Rumi's moans were soft and breathless. Zoey kissed Rumi and handled her free breasts. She leaned off to the side, when Zoey started focusing on the other breasts more too. Both of them were suckling and licking Rumi's nipples and Mira's hand migrated between her legs finally.

Her nerves were going wild, but she pushed through them. This is what she's wanted for months. She's not scared anymore. She is not afraid to ask the question whenever she wants to touch them, or taste them.

She looked up at Rumi with her eyes only. Her hand rubbed over her cunt teasingly. The heat from it made her own throb with want and need. but that was gonna have to wait. She wanted to make Rumi feel good first.

"Fuuuck…. Mira. You are such a tease…" She whined, then a moan took over as Mira's fingers slipped through her cunts lips, finding her clit and pressing down on it. Rumi's back arched, hips thrusting against Mira's hand. "Please—ngh—Mira, Zoey…"

Mira and Zoey shared a knowing look. They both let go of her nipples with synchronized pops. Even though Mira waited so long for this moment to come, she pulled her fingers away, running her hand up and down Rumi's inner thigh.

"You like that, huh?" Mira purred. She nibbled on the side of Rumi's breast. She moved up to her neck. "Can I mark you?"

Rumi's breath caught as she felt Mira's own hot breath on her skin at the crook of her neck. She nodded, biting her lip. She didn't trust her words at that moment.

"Just a warning, I bite hard. Is that okay?" Another nod, but accompanied by wide pleading eyes.

A second later, she bit down hard and sucked. When she finally pulled away, she licked the spot to soothe it, a bruise forming. She bit down again on her clavicle, sucking there too. leaving yet another bruise. Zoey followed suit without asking, biting just below Rumi's right breast.

Soft moans became more profound and it filled the bedroom as Mira finally moved back to her cunt. This time, her fingers moved. rubbing circles on her clit. Rumi's back arched off the bed again. "Ahh!—fuuck—Miraaa!" she moaned and panted. Mira wasn't going slow, but not too fast either. the perfect rhythm.

"Come on baby, moan for me. Please?" Mira's voice was a calm rasp, but there was something about it that made Rumi break. Her entire body heated up, pleasure coiled low as her climax approached. Mira fingers still moved steadily, not faltering for a second. Her legs clamped down as it hit her, taking her breath away for a moment. Her back arching more off the bed.

"Fuck Mira, please don't…. don't stop, baby, please." She moaned out as her orgasm inched even closer. "FUCK—I'm gonna—hah—gonna come!"

"That's it baby, let it happen. Come for us." Zoey said as she opened her legs more again

She tilted her head back as she moaned loudly, her hand fisted the sheet as her orgasm tore through her. "Oohh—fuuuck— Miraaaa! Zoeeyyyy!!" She practically screamed her name

Zoey kissed her as she shook, her moans caught by Zoey's lips and her tongue.

Mira worked her through it, until her body finally stopped jerking violently. Her legs shook and Mira was pleased. But she wasn't done with her yet. She still needed to taste her girlfriend. "Can I finally taste you?"

"What!? Baby you just made me come the hardest I've come in months, I don't know if I have more in me." Rumi tried to reason with her, but Mira was determined.

"I think I can get another one out of you?" She said so confidently, so sure.

"Give me a minute then, please baby?" Mira whimpered, giving her puppy eyes. "Oh don't look at me like that, babe. I'm way too sensitive right now…"

Zoey looks over to Mira. "Don't listen to her babe, she's only saying that because she doesn't want to make a mess for our first time with you." She smiled mischievously as she looked at Rumi.

"Zoey, no.. don't tell her that…" Rumi tried to tell her off, but it didn't work.

"Too late." Mira said with full confidence and finality as she moved between Rumi's legs. She lay on her stomach, and positioned herself perfectly between her thighs.

She inserts two fingers right away, smiling at the wet noise that comes with it, a combination of wetness and Rumi's climax. She thrusts her finger in and out, lewd wet sounds fill her ears lovely along with Rumi's moans and gasps.

"Fuuck baby… your fingers—hah—feel so fucking—ah—good!" Rumi said between moans and her sharp breaths.

Then she arched her back instantly, throwing her head back as Mira curled her fingers just right, flicking her tongue on her clit.

"Ooohhhh fuuuuck!!!!"

"Does it feel that good baby?" Zoey asks, a little surprised actually. And a little impressed.

Then Mira sealed her mouth around her sensitive clit, sucking it, still moving her fingers just so. She hums triumphantly as she gets what she wants. And what she wants is Rumi moaning her name.

Rumi's hand went to Mira's hair, grabbing a fistful and holding her head in place. "Miraaa—please!! I'm gonna—"

Her words get cut off by a gasp as another orgasm rips through her. A deep throat groan leaves her lips as Mira works her tongue on her clit, helping her through it. But her fingers don't stop. She thrusts them faster, pistoning in and out, curling her fingers with every thrust.

Then finally…

SQUELCH!!

Rumi finally gave in and let it all out after trying so hard not to. She squirts, and dear gods, it's a lot. Mira loves it though. It drips down her hand and her chin. She drinks up every drop she can, savoring the taste of her girlfriend.

"Fuuuck…" Zoey says with a groan. She looked at Rumi, who was spent for sure after all that. "That's my tough good girl, making a mess for me and Mira."

Rumi's chest heaved and her mind was reeling. Ears ringing. and there were tears in her eyes from the overstimulation. She hasn't done that in a long time. She always hated the clean up afterwards, but gods it felt good!

"Fuck you taste so good." Mira said as she finally came up for a breath. She got to her hands and knees and crawled up Rumi not too fast, but urgent enough because she wanted Rumi to taste herself on her lips.

Their mouths crashed together as Mira kissed her with fervor, but there was so much love behind it. "I love you Rumi, all of you."

"I love you, Jagiya." Rumi said back with a smile, a smile that showed how in love she was with Mira.

That name made Mira freeze, her fingers stopped tracing little patterns on her skin.

"Wha-what did you….. just call me?" Mira blinked repeatedly, staring at her girlfriend underneath her.

"What? Jagiya?" Rumi asked.

"Yes, that. You, you've never called me that before. Not in that way." She said, completely and utterly stunned by it. But in the best way. Her chest was warm, and she was starting to smile. She can't help it.

Tears stung her eyes. "No one has ever called me that before."

"Well…" Zoey leaned closer to her, her head resting on her shoulder. "You've had two people call you that now. Though I said it weeks ago when you were asleep on my lap on the couch one night after work."

Mira moved from Rumi to Zoey then. Zoey fell backwards onto the mattress with the sudden movement. "M-Mira?" She asked.

"Why haven't you said it to me when I was awake?" Mira pouted a little. Adorable! She hovered over Zoey, slotting one leg between her thighs, she could feel the damp fabric against her own skin, and the warmth that came off of Zoey. Her left knee rested on the space next to Zoey's right side.

"Well, I just—it's because you were— it slipped out!" She finally admitted, blurting the words out. "I was alone with you, and you were taking a nap on my lap. I was mumbling to myself until I looked down at your sleeping face…"

She squirmed a little as Mira's right knee pressed harder against her. She let out a whine, gripping the sheets, trying not to grind against it. "Then what?" Mira said as she twirled a strand of Zoey's raven hair around her fingers.

Zoey swallowed hard, trying to keep her mind from racing, and her breath steady. "I was admiring you. Then I said, 'I love you, my Jagiya.' without even thinking… I don't regret saying it at all… I regret saying it to you directly."

"Can you say it to me right now?" She leaned down and planted kisses on Zoey's sternum, between her breasts. She moved down, leaving a trail of warm kisses and little playful nibbles down her torso. When she reached the waistband of Zoey's pants, she tugged at them slightly, pulling the fabric down just enough to kiss right at the top of the black curls that peaked out from underneath.

Zoey took in a sharp breath from that kiss. It was so close, yet so far from where she actually wanted it. "If you say it, I'll take these off." Mira was serious. Her eyes showed it. It wasn't dominance, but something more like silent pleading. Zoey knew she wanted to taste her, so she had to say it. But she never thought it would be because of this.

"Please Jagiya… I need you." She whines as she says it, warming Mira's chest fully. She smiled fondly and then with a smooth, slow drag of fabric, she pulled Zoey's underwear off. Her legs opened as soon as her legs were free of the fabric. Mira took in the sight. soft curls sat just above the most perfect cunt she's ever seen.

"You are literally drooling hah." Rumi couldn't help but to let out a little laugh as she got closer to both of them. Finally fully recovered from her orgasms and overwhelming stimulation. She wiped at Mira's chin to wipe the drool away like a toddler with a messy face for literally no reason.

Mira dragged her tongue up from where her entrance is to her clit, barely putting any pressure on it at all and Zoey moaned out. Then she turned to Rumi who was watching her. "She tastes so good, Rumi. And you've had this for how long now?" Another drag of her tongue, slower and harder this time. Zoey's moans and whines filled the room.

"Are we counting before or after we started dating?" Mira looked up at her, pulling away from Zoey completely.

"Rumi! Oh ho my god. You two fucked before you dated?" She laughed in disbelief. Stunned even.

Rumi shrugged and looked at Zoey, she reached up and gently brushed her thumb on her lips. "Open." She demanded. Zoey obeyed, sticking her tongue out slightly as Rumi slid her thumb into her mouth on her tongue and pressed down. "Close, and suck ." Again, Zoey obeyed.

"Good girl, my love. Don't worry, you'll get your reward soon enough." The praise made her jerk her hips upward towards Mira.

"I had my ways with her, ha. She came to me first, believe it or not. She asked me if I was single, and into women, and if I was wanting to have a little fun that night." She looked back at Mira, blush had formed on her cheeks a little. It was cute to Mira actually.

Then she continued. Looking back at Zoey's half lidded eyes. "I was a little buzzed, horny and a pretty girl asked me to have sex with her. How could I say no to that?"

"Open your mouth baby." Rumi said to Zoey again. She obeyed once more and Rumi switched hands. Leaning on her right hand, she used her left hand to brush her thumb from Zoey's bottom lip, dragging it down her chin, over her Adam's apple that bobbed when she swallowed.

Then Mira watched as she wrapped her hand around her throat, her thumb and fingers pressing at the pulse points. "Rumi? What are you-" She didn't raise her voice, and she didn't move, didn't want to.

"Easy baby, it's okay. I'm not gonna hurt her…" Rumi purred, "This is for pleasure, to cut off a little bit of circulation, not to cut off her air supply. If you hold it long enough, the longer you hold it, the bigger the rush will be. The better it will feel."

Her smile was a little devious, but there was something softer behind it. "Trust me, she loves it. It was her idea the first time we had sex."

Mira blinked, realizing that it was a thing she had forgotten about. She forgot that "Choking" can be pleasurable if done correctly. She went back to what she was doing and continued to flick Zoey's clit with her tongue.

Mira wrapped her lips around the swollen bud, sucking as hard as she could before letting go with a wet pop. "Ahhh! Fuuuckk!" She moaned, and huffed at the sensation, gripping the sheet tighter in her right hand, her left gripped Rumi's right arm, nails digging into her skin, not too hard as not to break the skin.

She squeezed slightly more, and Zoey's eyes rolled back. "You ready baby?" Zoey nodded, biting her lip and closing her eyes.

As soon as Rumi let go she could feel the rush hit her hard, making her lightheaded and a little dizzy. But she loved every second of it. She missed it even. ""Fuck, fuck, FUCK!" She groaned in pleasure. Her back arched again as Mira's fingers entered her, curling just right, hitting that sweet spot deep inside. "Yes, yes, yes! Keep going baby—FUCK!"

"Why don't I help you too babe, you're literally dripping on the sheet." She chuckled low.

Mira pulled away gasping for air, chin glistening with Zoey's arousal. Which is why Rumi bent down towards her, licked her chin up to her lips, kissing her and tasting Zoey too. "Please Rumi, please touch me… I need it…" She pleaded after the kiss broke apart.

Rumi's smile was warm but dangerous. "Oh I will baby. I'll be gentle, I promise. Just tell me what you want and don't want, okay?"

Mira nodded, then went right back to Zoey. Pressing her tongue to her folds, tasting the sweetness of Zoey.

Rumi knelt behind Mira, gently. holding onto her hips, tugging slightly. "Can you lift your hips for me? And spread your legs?" Rumi's voice was gentle, and not harsh. And she asked instead of just doing. Something Mira had to get used to because Juno never did that. But these women, her girlfriends, are definitely not her. Not even close.

Mira did what she was asked with no hesitation. With her ass in the air, and her legs spread, presenting herself to her, her back arching sharply from her flexibility. It actually felt freeing for Rumi to see her like this finally. Rumi who manages to turn her on just by wearing her hair a certain way. Or how she talks to her sometimes.

Then there's Zoey, who is still under her tongue, thrashing in pleasure, thrusting her hips against Mira's tongue and fingers. Who is sweet, thoughtful, and a little chaotic.

She's way more than content in this situation. She's in heaven, on a high she never wants to come down from.

She feels the warmth of Rumi's presence from behind, feeling her fingers on her. Tracing the outside of her cunt. Mira wiggles her hips, and hears a little chuckle from Rumi. Giggling herself a little. That made Zoey's hips jerk from the vibrations against her clit.

"You two—ah!—are gonna be—hah!—the death of me… Fuck!" Zoey's words were broken apart by moans and gasps. Rumi lay on her stomach, laughing warmly as she got comfortable, and her face got closer to Mira's cunt, she spread her ass cheeks apart, immediately dragging her tongue from Mira's clit through the folds, up towards her entrance. It was one slow agonizing drag. Then another.

Mira's moan was louder than she expected. She hesitated with her own tongue flicking, mouth sucking, and finger fucking Zoey. She hasn't felt gentleness from someone like this in so long. She yearned for it, but didn't expect it.

"R-Rumi—nngh— fuuck… that feels so good!" Mira moans, moaning her name already as she could feel Rumi's tongue flicking at the swollen bud from her arousal in response to her girlfriends arousal and climaxes. Which she was about to do to Zoey.

Her hand falters as she pistons her fingers, adding another finger, making it four. She thrusts them into Zoey harder, flicking her clit faster. Harder, with her tongue.

She can feel Zoey's body twitch under her, as her climax lingers just at the cusp, right on the edge. She holds down Zoey's hips, pinning them to the mattress as she pressed harder. Both hands gripping her hips, nails digging into her freckled skin.

"Mira… I'm gonna—nngh— gonna come…" Zoey said panting, her back arching, as her orgasm heated in her stomach. She gripped Mira's hair, not too tight as to not hurt her, and held her head there.

"Me too—hah—Rumi, please!!"

Mira's moans and cries vibrated against Zoey as Rumi worked her tongue around her clit, and her fingers thrusting in and out at a steady but brutal pace.

The room was filled with lewd squelching noises from Mira and Zoey's dripping cunts, and their moans. Zoey moaning Mira's name, Mira moaning Rumi's name.

Then it hit both Mira and Zoey at the same time, their orgasms hitting harder than neither of them expected.

"Miraaaa!!"

"Rummiiii!!"

They both cried out in unison as they both came.

Zoey's thighs clamped around Mira's head as she came hard, her body shaking violently with each pulse that swept though her body. Mira drank up every drop that she could.

Rumi had turned over at some point and lay on her back. The pressure had changed without Mira realizing how. The angles of her fingers were different too, hitting the right spot as her fingers curled inside Mira.

Mira's orgasm caused her to lift away from Rumi a little by accident as her back arched. Rumi huffed a pleased chuckled as she pulled Mira back to her and latched on to her clit.

"Fuuuck Rumiii…! Please! It's too much… I'm still so sensitive…" She wanted Rumi to stop but at the same time she didn't. Which is why she didn't tell her to stop.

Mira worked Zoey through her orgasm as Rumi helped Mira through hers.

When Zoey's body stopped jerking as much, and relaxed more, that's when Mira decided to finally slow down and licked her clean, smiling from ear to ear. Satisfied.

Rumi still kept going, giving a little payback for the mess she was forced to make. But it wasn't bad, because she loved it. She also loved the sweet delectable sounds that Mira made against Zoey.

Her moans were raspy and deep. And god did they make Rumi's pussy throb again. Wanting more already.

"Think you can stand up on your knees baby?" Zoey asked gently. Mira tried once, but failed. She tried again, this time she was able to hold herself up, barely, as her body twitched above Rumi. Who had turned herself where Mira sat on her face instead.

Zoey was on her knees as well, holding onto Mira, she tilted Mira's head down slightly to meet her eyes.

"Zoey… I-I can't, it's too much…" she held onto her shoulders for balance, nails digging into her skin hard enough to leave deep crescents behind.

"Do you want her to stop?" She asked her as she held her close. Mira shook her head.

"N-no… but it's so—ngh— sensitive, I don't think—hah—I can do this…" she whines as she leaned into Zoey's shoulder, dark hair falling forwards against her chest as she takes her nails along Mira's back lightly.

"You can do this, if you don't want her to stop, then let go baby, you're holding back." Mira knew Zoey was right. She's trying to relax, but it's hard to,with her body tensing up from the overstimulation.

Then suddenly her body goes rigid, her head snapping back with a guttural moan. Her back arched, but Zoey had a firm hold on her.

The orgasm hit her so suddenly, it's like her body didn't even register what was happening at first.

"Oohhhh-fuuuuck!!! Rummiiiii, Zoeeeyyyy!!" She screamed their names loudly, louder than she expected herself. Her body convulsed and twitched, jerking every couple seconds as she came down from the orgasm. Then she slumped against Zoey, huffing.

"Fuck Mira, that was amazing. You sounded beautiful." Zoey praised her as she lifted Mira's head up, to see her dazed and exhausted face.

Then her face contorted again, pleasure overriding the exhaustion. "Mira? You okay?"

"Mmhmm!" Then it hit her again, quicker this time, unexpectedly. "Oh my goddd! Again?!"

Rumi was cleaning her up with her tongue when suddenly, yeah another orgasm burst through Mira for a third time. Just from the clean up, and Rumi wasn't even trying to get her to come again.

Her third and final orgasm tore through her this time making her lift up off of Rumi's face. "Oh my god baby, are you okay!?" Rumi sounded concerned as she slid out from under Mira, kneeling behind her, keeping her steady on her own knees. Her body pressed against Mira's back and Mira relaxed finally against her.

Mira nodded weakly, breathing heavy. She reaches her hand up behind her, cradles the back of Rumi's head, and turns her own head to kiss her with fervor. Rumi returned the kiss with just as much intensity. But it died down quickly before it escalated again.

- - - - - - - -

They stayed like that, together, breath slowly evening out.

Rumi was behind Mira, her chest solid and steady at Mira’s back, one arm wrapped tightly around her waist. Mira leaned into her without thinking, exhausted down to her bones. In front of her, Zoey sat cross-legged, one hand braced on Mira’s thigh, the other hovering at her shoulder like she was ready to catch her if she tipped over.

“Jeez, Mir,” Zoey said gently, concern threading her voice now that the haze had settled. “That was a lot. Three times… you sure you’re okay?”

Mira nodded faintly, eyelids heavy. “I’m okay. I promise.” Her voice was soft, worn down in the best way. “I just… haven’t done that in a long time. It’s been years since I came like that.”

Rumi winced a little, guilt flickering across her face as she kissed Mira’s shoulder. “That would be my fault, babe. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” Mira murmured, a tired smile tugging at her lips. “It was amazing. Just—” she huffed a weak laugh, “—that last one caught me off guard.”

“You are amazing,” Rumi said immediately.

Zoey nodded emphatically. “Yeah. We really didn’t expect that.”

“Not that we thought you’d be bad or anything,” Zoey added quickly, waving a hand. “Just—wow.”

Mira cracked a lazy, triumphant grin. “Guess I’m not as rusty as I thought.”

"Well you would have us fooled if you said you were." Zoey joked, with a smile.

Slight, tired laughter filled the room for a moment, and the sound settled warm and safe around her. Zoey leaned in first, kissing her softly—sweet, light, grounding. Then Rumi followed, slower, gentler, like she was careful not to spark anything Mira didn’t have energy for anymore.

Mira melted between them, her body finally giving up the last of its tension. She sagged slightly, and Rumi adjusted instantly, lowering herself so Mira didn’t pull her with her.

“I wanna lay down,” Mira whispered. “I can’t… stay up anymore.”

“Of course, my love,” Rumi said, as they shifted to the pillows.

Mira hesitated, then climbed over her instead, hovering uncertainly.

“Actually,” she said quietly, voice small again, “can I… lay on you? Like I usually do?”

Rumi smiled, warmth flooding her face. “Of course you can. Come here.”

She settled flat, and Mira lowered herself carefully onto her, inch by inch, until her weight was fully supported. A sigh slipped out of Mira without permission as Rumi’s fingers combed through her long hair, the dark curtain of it falling over them both like a cocoon.

“Thank you,” Mira murmured. “For… everything. For being in my life. For making me feel good about myself.”

“Always,” Rumi purred softly.

She had one question to ask though, as it wasn't really something that was able to be talked about while her face was buried underneath Mira.

"Hey, Mir?" She asked, remembering something she saw on Mira.

"Hmm?" Mira hummed in response.

"So, um… I was too distracted to ask about it, but…" Rumi paused. "How long have you had that piercing?"

"Wait…. What piercing?!" Zoey perked up, very interested in this conversation.

Mira laughed a little and lifted her head, rested her cheek on Rumi's breast like a pillow to look at her. "It was actually a dare that me and a friend made each other our first year of college." She said it so casually, like it was nothing.

Which in a sense, it was nothing. It was just a dumb dare in college.

"That still doesn't answer my question though…" Zoey said impatiently.

Mira looked at her , and with a straight face, no blush or anything, just her face, said… "Oh, my clit is pierced."

Zoey's jaw dropped. She said it so casually. "No big deal!! You pierced your clit!"

"Mira just shrugged, nonchalant about it. "It was years ago, and it was a stupid dare that I stupidly accepted. It's part of the reason I came so many times."

Zoey tilted her head to the side like a curious puppy. "So… that's why that happened. Huh."

"Yeah… after having it for so many years, and not really getting aroused until you guys made it happen again…" she blushed then. "I just kind of…. Ignored it."

"What do you mean by 'until we made it happen again'?" Zoey asked her, curious.

Mira tried to hide her face, her voice was muffled slightly by Rumi's chest. "It's so embarrassing…."

Rumi tapped her forehead gently, speaking softly. "Hey, look at me." And she did. "We're not gonna judge you for whatever it is babe, you should know that by now."

Mira took a deep breath, then nodded. She looked between both her girls. "I…. I used to hear you guys having sex some nights before we became a trio, and it turned me on, like… a lot. And so… I touched myself, and pretended my hands were yours…"

"Wow, we had that much of an effect on you?" Zoey asked, Rumi curious too.

Mira nodded, a blush forming on her cheeks again, a deep red. "You guys sounded so fucking hot, I couldn't help it…"

"Well, now… no more masturbating for you from now on. We will be more than happy to replace your hands whenever you need us." Rumi said. "We're really flattered though, truly."

That made Mira feel warm inside, really warm. She was so embarrassed about it, but they didn't mind it. She sat up a bit more leaning up enough to capture Rumi's lips in a quick kiss.

Then she pulled Zoey into one after, just quick kisses sealing the truth that was lied out just now. Then she finally relaxed again on top of Rumi and they all lay there in silence for a moment.

"I love you two, so much. I'm really happy that it was you that I met, and not more creeps. Mira said, her voice soft and low.

"We love you too baby girl." Rumi said.

To the moon and back." Zoey added, tapping Mira's nose gently before settling in beside them.

They let the quiet settle around them again, hearts beating, secrets shared, and snow falling just outside their window.

They were content with each other's warmth and comfort.

For a while, they just breathed.

Then Rumi spoke again, quieter. “Can I ask you something?”

Mira lifted her head slightly. “About what?”

Rumi hesitated. “Juno doesn’t really… have what we have between our legs. And yet you—” she searched for the words carefully, “—you knew exactly what to do. How did you learn all that?”

The question landed gently—but Mira felt it hit something old and tender inside her.

She swallowed.

“I had a girlfriend in college,” she said finally. “For about a year. She taught me… everything. How to touch, where my fingers were supposed to go, how to listen. How to make women feel good.”

That part was easy. Safe.

Then her cheeks warmed. Her thoughts spiraled before she could stop them.

“I—uh,” she added, before she could stop herself, “I also did some… odd things back then."

Silence.

She felt it immediately—the shift in the room, the weight of attention. Regret hit her hard, sharp and sudden.

Why did I say that? Why can’t I just shut up?

“Odd things?” Zoey asked carefully. Curious, not judgmental—but Mira’s chest still tightened.

I can’t tell them. I can’t. Not after everything.

“It’s… embarrassing,” Mira said quickly. “Especially considering what happened to me later with Juno...”

She pushed herself up and off Rumi, curling inward on the bed, knees tucked beneath her, hands folded tightly in her lap. The warmth from their bodies vanished too fast, leaving her exposed in every possible way.

This was in my past.
But it still happened.
I still did it.

Rumi reached for her chin gently. Mira pulled away, shame burning hot in her chest.

“Mira,” Rumi said softly, “you don’t have to tell us anything you don’t want to.”

Zoey shifted closer, hands hovering—but Mira tucked her arms in tighter, like she didn’t deserve the touch.

She saw it then—the hurt in Zoey’s eyes. Not anger. Not disgust. Just confusion and worry.

Please don’t look at me like that. Please let me take it back… please let me let them touch me, to hold me. I can't take them looking like that…
Not because of me.

“I’m sorry,” Mira said, voice thin. “It’s just… not something you’d expect from me.”

The silence stretched. It pressed on her ribs until breathing hurt.

Finally, she exhaled slowly.

“I did things I’m not proud of in my third year of college,” she said. “After my girlfriend and I broke up. Before—and when—I met Juno.”

She forced herself to keep going.

“It was my income,” she whispered. “I had rent to pay. I couldn’t get hired anywhere. No one would take me. So I… did what I could.”

She looked up at them then, tears spilling freely now.

“I didn’t do any of that after Juno,” she rushed to say. “I swear. I haven’t since before—”

“I’m sorry,” she broke, standing abruptly. “I should go. I’ll—go to my room.”

“Mira, wait.”

Rumi caught her wrist. Mira froze, shaking.

“Please look at me,” Rumi said. “We’re not upset.”

Mira shook her head, crying silently now. “I shouldn’t have told you. I didn’t want you to know.”

“I’m just a—” her voice cracked, “—a whore to people once they know. I always am.”

Before Rumi could speak, Zoey moved.

She wrapped herself around Mira without hesitation, arms tight around her waist.

“You are not a toy,” Zoey said fiercely, voice breaking. “And you are not a whore. Not to us. Not ever.”

Mira collapsed into her, clutching her like a lifeline.

“I was scared you’d be disgusted,” Mira sobbed. “That you wouldn’t want me anymore.”

“We don’t judge you for your past,” Rumi said firmly, joining them, arms closing around both of them. “That’s not who we are.”

Mira pulled back just enough to look at them. “You’re… not weirded out?”

Rumi shook her head. “I slept around too. A lot. College was messy.”

Zoey sniffed, wiping her eyes. “And I’m definitely not innocent either. I've done some questionable freaky things in my past too, before meeting Rumi”

Then, softer: “You pulling away hurt—but now I get why. I understand now. And you can talk to us about anything, you know that right?”

Mira let out a shaky laugh through tears.

“You did stuff like that too?” she asked weakly.

Rumi smirked faintly. “Oh, babe. You’d be dead wrong if you thought otherwise.”

Mira sagged back into them, finally—fully—held.

For once, the past didn’t feel like a weight she had to carry alone.

Rumi coaxed Mira gently back onto the bed, guiding her down until she was settled comfortably. Mira instinctively curled back onto her, resting her weight against Rumi’s chest like she belonged there—because she did.

For a while, no one spoke.

Mira traced the lines of Rumi’s tattoo on her forearm slowly, reverently, following the ink as if it were a familiar map. Rumi’s fingers moved through Mira’s hair in long, soothing strokes, untangling strands, nails lightly scratching her scalp in a way that made Mira hum without realizing it.

Zoey was there too, close and warm. She brushed Mira’s hair aside to expose her back and began tracing lazy, swirly patterns against her skin, completely absentminded. She hummed softly, a tune with no real melody—just happiness.

Then the humming stopped.

“Mira?” Zoey asked quietly. Her finger still traced the lazy patterns on her skin.

“Hmm?” Mira murmured, still focused on the tattoo beneath her fingers.

“I’m just… curious,” Zoey said. “About your ex. Your girlfriend. What was her name? What was she like?”

Rumi turned her head sharply, blinking like Zoey had just announced the sky was green.

“Zoey,” Rumi said, incredulous. “Why would you ask her that?”

Zoey shrugged, completely unfazed. “What? I’m curious. It’s not illegal.”

Mira giggled softly, the sound vibrating against Rumi’s chest. “It’s okay, Rumi. I don’t mind.”

Rumi relaxed again, though she still eyed Zoey suspiciously.

“She always went by Pe-i,” Mira said. “That’s what everyone called her. She was… really smart. Funny. Kind of reckless in a charming way.” She smiled faintly at the memory. “People used to call her ‘Glowstick.’”

She paused.

“At first I didn’t get it,” Mira continued, then trailed off as something clicked in her head. Her fingers stilled against Rumi’s arm.

Rumi pushed herself up onto her elbows instantly. “Wait,” she said slowly. “What nickname did you just say?”

“Glowstick,” Mira repeated, lifting her head. Then her eyes widened. “Oh.”

Oh no.

“No way,” Mira whispered. “That can’t be right… could it?”

Rumi stared at her, shock written plainly across her face.

Zoey looked between them, completely lost. “Okay,” she said, sitting up. “What am I missing?”

Rumi exhaled, almost laughing in disbelief. “Mira dated one of my best friends from high school.”

Zoey’s jaw dropped. “She what?”

Mira pushed herself upright now, heart thudding. “Wait,” she said slowly, searching Rumi’s face. “When you told us about that dream you had… about your past. The stuff that happened before everything fell apart.” Her voice softened. “That was Faye, wasn’t it?”

Rumi nodded, still stunned. “Yeah. That was Faye.”

Silence fell over the room, thick but not uncomfortable—just heavy with coincidence and realization.

Mira let out a quiet, disbelieving laugh. “Wow. I never knew her actual name back then. And you never used the name I knew when you talked about her.”

Zoey shook her head slowly. “That’s actually insane.”

Rumi finally dropped back against the pillows, one hand dragging down her face. “I can’t believe this.”

Mira leaned back down onto her, resting her cheek against Rumi’s chest again, grounding herself in the steady beat of her heart. “Small world, huh?”

Rumi huffed out a soft laugh and wrapped her arms around her tighter. “Apparently.”

Zoey scooted closer, draping herself over both of them this time, chin resting on Mira’s shoulder. “Well,” she said lightly, trying to ease the moment, “guess that officially makes this the most interconnected relationship in existence.”

Mira smiled, warmth spreading through her chest.

Of all the ways the past could’ve come back to her, she hadn’t expected it to circle so gently—woven into the people who loved her now.

And for once, the memory didn’t hurt.

Rumi still had her mind on the fact that Faye was still called that nickname, she even smiled at the thought.

“So she really got called that, huh?” Rumi said, still shaking her head in disbelief. “I gave her that nickname.”

Mira looked up at her, eyes soft. “Yeah. How did you two even meet?”

Rumi snorted quietly. “I was going to ask you that.”

Mira smiled, the kind that came easily now. “We were in art classes together. She asked me for help with a project one day—just walked up and asked like it was nothing. She was so cute I couldn’t say no.”

Her smile turned fond, distant for just a second. “She blushed all the time. That’s actually how I learned about the nickname ‘Glowstick.’” She chuckled. “She hated it.”

Rumi laughed, the sound bright and genuine. “Yeah. The first time I told her that’s what I called her, I thought she was going to melt right there. Her face got so red it was almost impressive.”

Mira’s eyes widened. “No way.”

“She leaned against my shoulder,” Rumi continued, still laughing, “and I could feel the heat through my shirt. I remember thinking, wow, that can’t be healthy.”

Mira laughed harder at that, the sound unguarded, free. Zoey joined in too, shaking her head in amused disbelief.

Sharing memories like this—after everything Mira had just admitted, after all the vulnerability she had laid bare—felt unexpectedly nice. Comforting. Not painful.

For Rumi and Mira especially, it felt like something gently clicking into place. Not closure exactly—but understanding. A shared thread from the past, now woven into something safer, warmer.

Rumi hesitated before asking, the question heavy where it sat in her chest.

“What was she like?” she asked quietly. “Really.”

Her voice was softer now. Distant. Like she was already bracing herself for the answer.

Mira looked at her, the smile on her lips fading just a touch—not disappearing, just dimming into something more careful.

“The first year I knew her,” Mira said slowly, choosing her words, “she was timid. Like she was always folding in on herself. She was scared easily. Sometimes she just looked… lost.”

Rumi stayed very still, not able to move a muscle.

“But once I got to know her,” Mira continued, “she was happy. Genuinely happy. She laughed all the time—made the dumbest jokes and thought they were hilarious. She had this way of lighting up a room when she forgot to be afraid.”

Mira’s brows knit together.

“But…” Her voice faltered. “There was a darkness there too. Like it clung to her.”

Rumi’s chest tightened.

“If she was alone,” Mira went on, “she’d pull something out of her bag. A piece of paper, or a photo—something small. I never asked. But every time she looked at it, she’d go quiet. Like she was about to cry.”

Rumi stiffened.

That wasn’t how she remembered her. Not in high school. Not before.

“I…” Rumi swallowed hard. “I think I might know why.”

Mira turned fully toward her, concern flickering in her eyes.

Rumi’s voice trembled as she spoke. “Juno told me… back then… that they didn’t want to talk to me anymore. That they didn’t want to be my friends. She said it like it was nothing.”

Her jaw tightened. “I believed her.”

She wiped at her eyes with the heel of her hand. “I didn’t find out it was a lie until right before I finally left her.”

A horrible understanding settled in her chest.

“I bet,” Rumi whispered, “she told them the same thing about me.”

Silence filled the room—thick, aching.

Mira reached for her without hesitation, threading their fingers together, grounding her. Her grip was gentle but firm.

“Rumi…” she said softly.

Mira met her eyes, voice steady but full of ache. “She didn’t look like someone who’d just lost a friend.”

Rumi’s breath hitched.

“She looked,” Mira continued quietly, “like someone who’d lost someone completely.”

“…Like someone who died.”

The words landed between them with devastating clarity.

"She walked around campus like a zombie for a while, not really there mentally. Some days she would even just stare at her canvas during art classes."

Rumi squeezed Mira’s hand, grief and guilt tangling together in her chest—not loud, not explosive, just heavy. Lingering.

Zoey stayed silent, watching them both, understanding dawning slowly on her face.

And in that quiet moment, they all understood the same terrible truth:

Juno didn’t just isolate people.

She erased them.

The realization hit Rumi all at once.

Her breath stuttered, and the words slipped out before she could stop them—low, venomous, shaking.

“That fucking controlling psycho…”

Tears welled immediately, blurring her vision. This time, she didn’t bother wiping them away. They spilled freely, dripping off her lashes and down her cheeks as she stared at nothing.

Her hands clenched on her thighs, fingers curling hard—too hard. Her nails dug into her skin as if she needed something solid to anchor her, something to punish, something to feel.

“She…” Rumi’s voice broke. “She made me lose my friends. My best friends. People I’d known since I was a kid.”

Her grip tightened unconsciously.

“And she went that far?” she whispered, disbelief and horror tangling together. “Why…?”

The last word barely made it out—a desperate, fractured breath rather than a sound.

She hadn’t meant to say it out loud. It was more for herself than anyone else.

But Mira heard it.

So did Zoey.

Mira’s gaze dropped instinctively, drawn by something wrong. Her stomach lurched.

“Rumi…” she said softly.

Blood.

Thin, bright lines welled up beneath Rumi’s fingers, seeping where her nails had broken skin. Rumi hadn’t even noticed. She was too deep in it—too lost in the weight of what she’d just realized.

Mira moved immediately.

She shifted closer, gently but firmly taking Rumi’s wrists, easing her hands away from her thighs despite the resistance born of shock.

“Hey—hey, baby,” Mira murmured, grounding, steady. “Look at me. You’re hurting yourself.”

Rumi blinked, confused at first. Then her eyes followed Mira’s gaze downward.

“Oh…” Her voice cracked. “I didn’t—I didn’t even feel it.”

Zoey was already up, grabbing a tissue from the nightstand, kneeling in front of Rumi without hesitation. She dabbed carefully at the blood, her hands gentle, reverent.

“Hey,” Zoey said quietly, voice thick. “You don’t deserve this. None of it.”

Rumi’s shoulders collapsed inward as the reality settled—her breath hitching, chest shaking as the sob finally broke loose.

“She took everything,” Rumi cried. “And I didn’t even know.”

Mira pulled her into her chest, wrapping her arms around her protectively, one hand cradling the back of her head.

“She didn’t take everything,” Mira whispered fiercely. “She tried. But she didn’t win.”

Rumi sobbed harder. "But she did win… She took my friends away, my family. She even went as far as to tell them that I-" she deliberately didn't finish that sentence.

Zoey reached up, pressing her forehead against Rumi’s knee, one hand resting over Mira’s where it held her.

“You’re here,” Zoey added softly. “With us. You survived her.”

Rumi clung to them both, fingers curling against Mira’s, still bare, chest this time instead of her own skin.

And for the first time since the truth clicked into place, she let herself break—
not alone,
not silently,
but held.

Mira helped Zoey clean the puncture marks, wrap up Rumi's thighs. Taking care of Rumi. Together.

Mira worked carefully on her right thigh, movements slow and deliberate, while Zoey handled the left with the same quiet focus. Clean gauze, sterile wraps—everything neat, snug, and safe. When they finished, Mira pressed her palm lightly over the bandage as if sealing the care in place.

"You've still got blood on your fingers. I'll be right back with a washcloth." Mira held one of her hands daintily, inspecting it. She stood and disappeared out of the room and into the bathroom.

Rumi could hear the water running in the sink for a moment then stop. Mira returned with a warm cloth to wipe the dried blood from Rumi's fingers.

By the time the bandages were secured, and Rumi's fingertips and the underside of her nails had been cleaned off, her breathing had finally evened out.

“Okay,” Zoey murmured. “All done.”

They changed into loose, comfortable clothes after that—something soft, something forgiving.

Mira tugged on a pair of baggy black sweatpants that slouched off her hips just right, then layered a long-sleeved shirt beneath a worn T-shirt. Comfortable. Familiar. Herself.

Rumi chose dark blue leggings with pale, swirling patterns and her favorite dark gray Nirvana tee. But the moment she tried to pull the leggings on, bending one leg sent a sharp sting through one of her thighs.

“—Ssss—ah!—fuck,” she hissed, reflexively pressing her hand over the bandages. Not hard—just enough to ride out the pain.

Mira turned just as she pulled her T-shirt over her head.

“You okay, baby?”

Rumi nodded, eyes still squeezed shut. When she opened them, she looked at Mira with something small and vulnerable in her expression.

“Yeah… I’m okay,” she said quietly. “I just… can’t get my leggings on. My thighs hurt too much.”

Her voice sounded defeated. Shrunk.

Mira crossed the room without hesitation and knelt in front of her, resting a warm hand on Rumi’s knee. It wasn’t a question. It was an offering.

“Here,” she said softly. “Let me help you. Please.”

Rumi nodded. She knew better than to argue with that tone.

Mira slid the leggings over Rumi’s feet first, easing the fabric up her calves and to her knees, making sure everything sat right before helping her stand. She moved slowly, carefully pulling the material over the bandages, mindful of every flinch.

When the waistband was settled just above Rumi’s hips, Mira adjusted it gently, smoothing out the fabric so nothing twisted or pulled.

“There,” she said with a small smile. “All dressed.”

Her hands lingered at Rumi’s hips.

They stood close—closer than necessary. Rumi had to tilt her head up to meet Mira’s gaze, six inches of height between them that suddenly felt very noticeable.

“Thank you…” Rumi whispered, her voice threatening to crack.

Why is my heart pounding like this? she thought. She just helped me get dressed.

Mira looked at her with her eyes more than her head—soft, adoring, full of something steady and real.

“You’re welcome, Jagiya,” Mira said smoothly and warmly.

The word settled deep in Rumi’s chest, sending warmth spiraling outward. Butterflies stirred, uninvited but welcome.

Mira cupped Rumi’s cheek, thumb brushing lightly against her skin. Rumi leaned into it without thinking, eyes closing as she pressed a kiss into Mira’s palm.

The kiss that followed was slow and careful—nothing rushed, nothing demanding. Just grounding. Familiar. Safe.

Zoey watched from the wall, already dressed, arms folded loosely as she admired the sight. After everything, she let them have this moment. There would be time. There always was.

Later, when they were settled again, Rumi relaxed back against the pillows. Mira slipped in between her legs, back pressed to Rumi’s stomach, while Rumi played gently with her hair. Zoey curled up on Rumi’s right, fingers laced with hers, grounding her presence steady and warm. Zoey’s other hand rested on Mira’s shoulder, thumb tracing slow, soothing circles.

“Hey, Ru?” Zoey asked quietly. “How did you know that was even a possibility? That Juno said that stuff?”

Rumi hummed thoughtfully, then reached for her wallet on the bedside table. She opened it and pulled out a Polaroid—edges worn soft with time.

“Because I have the same photo,” she said. “We took it one year and made copies. So Faye, Alexis, and I would always have each other, even if we got separated.”

She held it up.

“I’m the one in the middle with black hair. Faye’s the one with dark brown hair. Alexis has lighter brown hair—with the blue streak.”

Her smile was small, fond.

“Aww,” Mira breathed. “You guys look so cute.”

Zoey blinked, then stared at Rumi. Then the photo. Then Rumi again.

“Wait—you had black hair?!”

Rumi blinked back.

“Well… yeah. It’s my natural hair.”

She paused.

“…Did you really think my real hair was purple?”

Zoey opened her mouth—then closed it.

Mira snorted.

And for the first time that early afternoon, the weight in the room lifted just a little.

Rumi stared at the Polaroid a moment longer before speaking again. Her voice dropped, quieter, heavier.

Her thumb brushed across the glossy surface. First over Alexis, then over Faye.

“If it’s true… if I’m right—and Faye was looking at the same photo that day…” She swallowed. “Then that means Juno really was trying to take me away from them. From my friends. My family.”

The word family landed hard.

“Alexis was like a sister to me,” Rumi continued. “My mom always treated her like she was when we were younger.”

Mira’s gaze lingered on the photo too—first on Faye, then Alexis, and finally Rumi in the middle, all sharp smiles and unguarded joy. Something soft and sad settled behind her eyes.

“I wish I’d asked her about it that day,” Mira said quietly. “But I didn’t know her well enough back then to ask something that personal.” She exhaled slowly. “She never really talked about it. Like she didn’t want to. Or maybe… like she was scared to.”

Zoey tightened her grip on Rumi’s hand just a little, grounding her.

Rumi nodded faintly, eyes still fixed on the photo. “Yeah. That sounds like her.”

For a long moment, none of them spoke. The room felt still—heavy with what-ifs and missed chances, but also threaded with something gentler. Understanding. Shared grief.

Mira leaned back into Rumi’s chest, tilting her head just enough to press her temple against Rumi’s sternum. Rumi’s arms curled around her instinctively, protective without thinking.

“She didn’t lose you,” Mira said softly. “Not really. Even if she thought she did.”

Zoey nodded. “And neither did Alexis.”

Rumi’s throat tightened, but this time the tears that came weren’t sharp. They were slow. Quiet.

“Maybe not,” she whispered. “But I hate that she was made to feel like she had.”

Zoey brushed her thumb across Rumi’s knuckles. “Then we make sure she never feels that way again. If she’s still out there.”

Rumi closed her eyes, breathing them in—both of them. The weight was still there. The past still hurts.

But she wasn’t alone in it anymore. Because she had Zoey and Mira, her two beautiful girlfriends that will always be there for her.

No matter what.

Suddenly, Mira jumps up to her feet. "Bathroom break!" And rushes to the bathroom, fumbling with the bedroom door handle that wouldn't cooperate for a second.

Rumi and Zoey both can't help but laugh as their girlfriend almost pisses herself because she can't open the door.

"Oops… I guess I accidentally locked it…" Mira said sheepishly. She promptly unlocked it and finally slipped into the bathroom, not even bothering closing the door.

Rumi only shook her head smiling to herself. Mira was just too adorable for her own good.

"She's impossible" She asks Zoey, turning her head to look at her, still smiling.

She rolled to her right, and nuzzled against Zoey this time, wrapping her arms around her waist, breathing in her vanilla scent.

"She is baby," she kisses Rumi on the top of her head, rests her cheek in the same spot and pulls her closer, holding her tighter. "She really is."

They lay there in silence. Then Mira returns, yawning as she walks over to the bed.

"Someone is a little sleepy." Zoey says as she watches Mira crawl onto the bed again.

"Well, I guess coming three times in a row, then the emotional dump we just went through, can be exhausting for someone like her." Rumi responded with a yawn of her own, proving her point.

"Three times after so long, is three times too many…" Mira mumbled as she crawled closer to them and waited.

Rumi scooted back a little from Zoey, making room for Mira to squeeze in between them, and curled up to Zoey like a cat. Her head was tucked under her chin, and she threaded one leg between Zoey's thighs, draping her left arm over her side.

"I want to take a nap like this, just…. for a few hours." She murmured against Zoey's chest, kissing her softly through her shirt.

Rumi positioned herself a little closer after Mira was settled, pressing her body against Miras, both of them sighing in contentment to the warmth.

"A nap sounds nice actually." Rumi yawned real big, punctuating her reply.

Zoey tucked hair behind Rumi and Mira's ears to get hair out of their face, as Rumi curled into Mira, letting her eyes flutter shut as exhaustion pulled both her and Mira under.

It didn't take long before both were deep in sleep, breaths evening out and Mira was snoring ever so softly. Zoey thought it was adorable. "Sleep well my loves." She whispered to their sleeping forms.

If only I had my phone right now. They look so cute sleeping like this. She thought to herself, catching herself smiling. Then sleep finally took her as well. And she finally let sleep pull her under as well, her arm draped over both her girls. Comforting and just… at peace.

Three hours slipped by, the afternoon light shifting warmer as it filtered through the room. Mira was the first to wake.

At first, she didn’t move—just blinked slowly, letting herself register warmth, weight, and the steady rise and fall of someone breathing beneath her. She frowned a little when she realized something felt… off.

She had fallen asleep curled against Zoey.

So why was she waking up wrapped around Rumi?

One arm draped across Rumi’s stomach. One leg hooked over her thigh. And—

Oh.

Oh no.

Her left arm was completely numb.

Pins and needles shot up her shoulder as she tried to gently pull it free. It didn’t budge.

“Fuck…” she whispered under her breath.

She shifted again, carefully this time. Still trapped.

“Babyyy,” Mira murmured softly, tilting her head up just enough to see Rumi’s sleeping face. “Wake up.”

Nothing.

Rumi was out cold, mouth slightly parted, lashes resting against her cheeks. Mira tried again, nudging her shoulder gently.

“Babe, please.”

Still nothing.

Mira sighed, then noticed Rumi’s shirt had ridden up in her sleep, a strip of warm skin exposed. Without thinking, she slid her free hand to Rumi’s stomach, rubbing slow, absent circles.

Rumi stirred almost immediately.

“Babe?” Mira whispered again.

Rumi mumbled something unintelligible, shifting just enough to make Mira wince.

Okay. One more thing.

Mira leaned closer, brushing her lips gently along Rumi’s neck—soft, familiar, barely there.

That did it.

“Mira?” Rumi murmured, blinking as she surfaced from sleep.

Mira exhaled in relief. “Thank God. My arm is stuck under you and it hurts.”

Rumi’s eyes widened instantly. “Oh my god—I’m so sorry!”

She sat up quickly, careful but fast enough that Mira could finally yank her arm free and cradle it against her chest, hissing softly as sensation flooded back in.

Rumi shifted to sit cross-legged beside her. “Here—let me help.”

She gently lifted Mira’s arm and rested it across her lap, rubbing slow, careful circles into her forearm and bicep.

“Ow—ow—ow…” Mira muttered, more dramatic than necessary.

“I know, I know,” Rumi said softly. “I’m sorry, baby.” She glanced up at her. “How did your arm even end up under me?”

Mira shook her head weakly. “I don’t know. I fell asleep attached to Zoey, then somehow I woke up wrapped around you with my arm crushed.”

She glanced at Rumi. “You’re heavier than you look, by the way.”

Rumi huffed a quiet laugh. “Yeah, I get that a lot. Even Abby said that once.” She paused casually. “He was surprised when he helped me up after I slipped at the bar the other week.”

Mira froze.

Rumi didn’t notice. She lifted Mira’s hand, pressing a soft kiss to her palm… then her forearm.

“There,” she murmured. “Feel better?”

Mira nodded slowly, eyes fixed on Rumi’s face now—not transfixed by the affection, but by the words that had slipped out so easily.

Rumi finally caught the look.

“…Why are you staring at me like that?” she asked, tilting her head, brows lifting.

Mira swallowed.

“You fell at work?” she asked quietly.

Rumi blinked—and then it hit her.

“Oh no,” she said softly, guilt washing over her face. “I’m sorry, Mir… I never told you?”

Mira shook her head slowly. “No. I never knew.” Her eyes dropped to Rumi’s hand still resting on her arm. “It must’ve been when I was sick and Zoey and I stayed home.”

She reached out with her right hand, lacing their fingers together, thumb brushing over Rumi’s knuckles. Then she lifted Rumi’s hand and kissed the back of it gently.

“You didn’t want to scare me,” Mira said quietly. “Is that why?”

Rumi nodded, squeezing her hand back. “Yeah. I didn’t want you freaking out.” She gave a small, sheepish smile. “I was okay though. My ass hurt for the rest of the shift, but I was fine.”

That earned a surprised laugh from Mira—soft at first, then a little louder as relief bubbled up.

“Your ass,” Mira repeated, shaking her head.

Neither of them noticed Zoey wasn’t on the bed anymore—until the door opened.

“Well hello, sleepyheads.”

Both Mira and Rumi looked up as Zoey walked in, already dressed, hair pulled back loosely. She leaned against the doorframe with a grin.

“I was about to come wake you two up for a late lunch,” she said. “But I heard laughter and figured something interesting was happening.”

Mira, still giggling, pushed herself upright, propping herself on her hands and bending one knee. “Rumi decided now was the perfect time to tell me about when she slipped and fell at the bar weeks ago,” she said, eyes flicking to Rumi, “and how her ass hurt afterward.”

She shot Rumi with a playful scowl.

Rumi groaned. “Oh my god,” she laughed, reaching out to shove at Mira’s face.

Mira dramatically let herself fall back onto the bed. “She attacked me,” she announced weakly. “I barely survived.”

All three of them burst out laughing.

Zoey shook her head, hands settling on her hips. “Well, I’m glad you’re laughing and not crying. We’ve had enough of that for one day.”

She stepped closer to the bed. “Come on. Let’s eat lunch.”

Then her smile turned a little mischievous.

“And after that,” she added, “I want us to go somewhere.”

Mira and Rumi exchanged a look—curious, content, and still warm from laughter—before both nodding.

After lunch, they dressed into warmer clothes, as it was pretty cold outside. Thankfully Rumi didn't need help with her pants this time. They all put on winter boots, and winter coats.

Zoey obviously opted for her red and black plaid coat with the soft, warm, fuzzy inside. Plaid was her thing and she never was seen not wearing any of her flannels every time they dressed to go out. She wore a dark green knit beanie that had a little turtle on the front hem, and a puffball at the top

Mira wore fuzzy ear muffs, a black coat and gloves. While Rumi wore a knit slouch beanie just over, making sure she left strands out to frame her face. She looked too hot for her own good to Mira, but she loved it.

"Alright ladies." Zoey said as she grabbed the car keys, tossing them to Rumi. She caught them easily out of the air, twirling them around her index finger.

Zoey pulled her phone out of her pocket and scrolled over to her notes. "First stop… the pharmacy. I need to refill my medication, and we're out of pads. I'm due any day for my cycle and I am not wanting to have to stuff my underwear with toilet paper mid rush at the bar again. Then we go to the special spots I want to go to."

"Medication? What for?" Mira asked curiously.

Rumi answered for her. "We never told you? Zoey is slightly autistic."

Mira shook her head. "Nope, I honestly had no idea… I feel like I should've known.. I'm sorry.."

Zoey walks over to Mira, looks up at her, reaches her hand up and caresses her cheek. "Hey, It's okay. That means the medication works to help keep me mellowed out. There is nothing you need to apologize for. Okay?"

Mira nods, and Zoey leans up on her tip toes tugging at Mira's coat slightly. She bends down a little to meet her for a soft kiss. They parted but didn't pull away far. "Come on baby, let's go before it gets too late."

After about 30 minutes of driving, they arrive at the pharmacy just on the other side of town, taking their coats off immediately entering the store.

The pharmacist comes from the back to greet them at the counter. She was probably the same height as Rumi, maybe slightly taller, with fair skin and two big curly puffs on the top of her head.

When she came around the corner, she looked up and her face lit up instantly. "Ji-Won-Nim! Rumi-Nim! It's lovely to see you two again!" She was so happy to see them again, it made both of them smile. Mira held Rumi's hand out of nerves.

"It has been a while. I need to fill my prescription again." Zoey said, smiling a little. The pharmacist tapped the screen a few times.

She glanced over at Rumi and Mira. Mira met her gaze on accident, looking away instantly, blushing from embarrassment and shyness. Kimmie smiled warmly. "And who is this lovely gem?"

Her gaze automatically glanced at their joined hands. Then back up to Rumi.

Rumi felt Mira's grip tighten in hers. And she squeezed back, anchoring her. "This is our girlfriend, Mira."

"Well, It's nice to meet you Mira. My name is Dr. Kimmie Hang. But you can just call me Ms. Kim." She said softly, noticing how uncomfortable she looked.

"Nice to meet you too…. Ms. Kim." She said shyly, steeping impossibly closer to Rumi for comfort.

Her attention went back to Zoey. "Now, let's get your medication shall we. That will be ready in 20 minutes."

Zoey paid and bowed slightly. "Thank you Ms. Kim."

While they waited, they roamed the isles of the pharmacy. Zoey peeled off to grab the feminine products they needed, while Mira stayed glued to Rumi's side.

"Hey, you okay love?" Rumi asks her.

"Yeah… I'm just not used to being out like this. It's been a little while." Mira said, voice smaller than she intended.

"We have been in the apartment for a few weeks now. The only place we've gone has been the bar and the apartment." Rumi said, leaning into Mira's side and feasting her head on her shoulder. "But you're doing so well. And if we need to go home then we will, okay?"

Mira looked down at her, when she tilted her head up, and nodded. "Yeah, I will."

They walked into another aisle, and a woman's voice came from Rumi's right while she browsed through thermometers.

"Excuse me, miss? I'm really sorry to bother you but-" Rumi looked up as the woman's words were cut off. She was slightly taller than Rumi. She was in plain sneakers, grey jeans, and creme colored turtle neck. She was wearing glasses and her hair was a dark chocolate color in a messy bun.

"Yes?" Rumi asked, curiosity piquing. This woman seemed familiar for some reason. Something about her made Rumi feel that familiarity.

The woman froze instantly, her body going rigid, and her skin went pale. She looked as if she saw a ghost or something.

"R-Rumi??" The woman asked, her voice was shaky. "Is that…. You?"

Rumi was really confused. "I'm sorry, do I…. Know you?"

Mira's gaze lifted from the box she was looking at and let it fall to the floor as her grip loosened unconsciously. She stared at the woman, speechless, and frozen.

That's… Faye… Rumi's best friend from her younger years… she thought, not able to get the words out yet to tell Rumi.

Tears welled in the woman's eyes, her lip trembled and her hands were shaking. "Is… is your name Ryu Rumi…. By chance?" The words were shaky, but understandable.

"Yeah," she started feeling a little awkward at first. That's when the dam broke.

The woman's knees buckled and she fell to the floor hard. "Oh my god! Are you okay?!" Rumi crouched down with her, hands on her shoulders so she wouldn't topple over.

The woman started sobbing before she could get another word out. All she was able to muster was, "it's really you… you're alive…" in a shaky whisper, accompanied by more sobs.

"Hey, hey, it's okay." Rumi cooed at the Woman, reassuring her. She barely heard what the woman said though.

Mira finally was able to get herself to speak, say only one name. One she spoke of only this morning.

"Pe-I?" She said in a startled tone.

Rumi looked at Mira behind her, then back at the woman. That's when realization finally hit her. And she finally knew who this woman was.

Rumi's head turned so quickly her vision was a blur. The woman was looking at her with tears running down her face.

Rumi's breath caught when the woman nodded, hearing Mira's words. Confirming.

"Oh my god, Faye!?" Rumi immediately pulled her into a hurried hug, her arms wrapped around her tightly, and Faye returned the gesture. They were both sobbing now.

"We thought you were dead!!" Faye sobbed, the words muffled by Rumis shirt. Her hand gripped the fabric on Rumi's back with shaking fists.

Rumi cradled the back of Faye's head, and Faye tucked her face into her shoulder. They held onto each other like lifelines, as if one or the other was going to evaporate into thin air.

Zoey came to check on them and stopped dead in her tracks, standing next to Mira, who reached for her hand instantly.

"Who is that?" She whispered to Mira.

"It's Faye, one of Rumi's best friends growing up, she told us about this morning." Mira whispered back, tears in her eyes as well.

"Oh… oh my god. I'm so glad we came here first." She tightened her grip on Mira's hand. "I swear this wasn't planned."

Rumi and Faye finally parted. Rumi's hat had fallen off in the process but she didn't care at all. All she cared about was seeing one of her best friends again. One she hasn't seen in nearly 10 years.

"Faye? Is this really you? Is this real?" Rumi asked, voice thick with tears as she cupped her face in both hands.

Faye nodded her head quickly. "Yes! It's me—it's really me!" She choked out a shaky laugh. Then Rumi pulled her closer kissing her cheeks and her forehead and her nose. Something she always did growing up. Rumi pulled back again, her eyes scanning her face, taking her in fully.

"I can't believe this… I thought I would never see you again. Either of you…" Rumi said softer now. Her eyes were red and a little puffy from the crying, tears still fell silently down her cheeks

"When I first saw you, I didn't think anything of it. The purple hair threw me off. But I heard your voice. You still have that same calming melodic tone you always had growing up." Faye sniffed, and Rumi wiped the tears from her face with her thumbs.

Faye looked at Rumi like she was still in shock and still didn't believe that it was real. Then she continued. "I had to know for sure, I had to know if it really was you or if I was just hearing someone with the same voice. Then I saw your face, and it… broke something in me."

She held back more sobs that threatened to break loose. She reached up and held Rumi face with her hands, returning the gesture of wiping away her tears too.

They didn't let go of each other either. They still kept contact no matter what they did.

"Why don't we get up off the floor yeah?" Rumi nodded and they both stood. Faye couldn't help but to pull her into another fierce lingering hug.

That was when another woman’s voice drifted in from the next aisle, bright and casual at first.

“Hey, babe! I found that face mask you’ve been—”

Her words slowed as she rounded the corner. Then stopped entirely.

Faye turned, releasing Rumi just enough to look at her, though her hand never fully let go. Tears were already spilling again, her laugh shaky and broken.

“I found something better than a stupid face mask, honey,” Faye choked out. “She’s… she’s alive.”

Rumi looked up—and her breath left her lungs all at once.

The woman standing there was tall, about Faye’s height, with chestnut hair cascading down her back and over her shoulders. Familiar in a way that hurts. Familiar in a way that lived somewhere deep in Rumi’s bones.

There was no doubt.

No hesitation.

Alexis.

Her first best friend.

The moment Alexis got a clear look at Rumi’s face, recognition hit her like a physical blow. Her eyes widened, glassy and stunned. The box in her hands slipped free, hitting the floor as her shaking fingers flew to her mouth.

“Is it… is it really her?” Alexis whispered, her voice trembling along with the rest of her.

Faye nodded, laughing and crying all at once. “It’s her.”

Alexis shook her head slowly, like her mind refused to catch up. “It… can’t be…” Disbelief spilled out with the words.

Rumi swallowed and smiled through tears. She nodded once, gently, waving her hand in the air in a small gesture.

“Hi, Lex,” she said softly. “It really is me. Rumi.”

Alexis’s breath caught hard in her throat.

That voice.

That same calm, melodic tone she had mourned for years. Was being spoken to her as if through a haze at first.

“No… no, that’s impossible,” Alexis whispered. “You—you died. Juno—she—”

Her knees buckled.

Faye rushed to her side, steadying her as she collapsed against her, having to release Rumi to keep Alexis upright.

“She…. she said you didn't want to live without your mom anymore after graduation,” Alexis sobbed. “She said that you… that you slit your wrists.”

The words slammed into Rumi like a freight train.

I was right, she thought dully. She lied to them— to me.

Alexis continued, voice breaking apart. “She made us believe it… I mean, who would lie about something like that?"

Rumi took a shaky step forward. Then another.

"Juno would. She made me believe that you two didn't want to be my friends anymore, and didn't want me in your lives since I had her..." Rumi said, her voice low and shaky.

Alexis steadied herself, lifting her head to look at Rumi again. They stared at each other for a long moment—years of grief and confusion suspended between them.

“Lex,” Rumi said, her voice cracking. “I—I would never do that. Not to you. Or Faye. Or anyone.”

That was all it took.

Alexis surged forward, slamming into Rumi and clutching her tight. Rumi wrapped her arms around her immediately, burying her face into Alexis’s shoulder. Both of them sobbed openly now, Faye stepping in and pulling them both close.

They clung to each other like lifelines. Like they would dissipate into thin air.

Zoey returned just then, a pharmacy bag and medication in hand—and stopped dead.

“What’s… going on?” she asked quietly, stunned.

Rumi pulled back just enough to look at her, tears streaking her face, her smile shaky but radiant.

“It’s them, Zoey,” she said. “My best friends.”

Zoey gasped softly. “Oh my god… you’re—you’re from the photo.”

Alexis and Faye shared a glance, then looked back at Rumi.

“You still have it?” Faye asked.

Rumi nodded immediately, pulling her wallet from her back pocket and slipping the Polaroid free.

“I keep it with me. Always.”

Alexis and Faye exchanged a smile and pulled out their own copies.

“So do we,” Alexis said softly. “Best place to keep them.”

They laughed together—through tears, through disbelief.

Faye's gaze finally landed on Mira fully. Realization dawned on her that she was the Mira she dated in college.

"It's nice to see you again, Mira. You look good, and I like your hair the way it is now." Faye said, smiling softly at Mira. Not to flirt, but to show kindness.

Mira nodded slightly, "It's not to see you again too, Pe-I." she said, smiling back faintly.

Faye let out a small content laugh. "No one has called me that in years. You were the only one that called me that."

"I like the name, it suits you." Rumi added. "Oh! By the way, a late introduction. Faye, Alexis, I want you to meet my girlfriend of four years. This is Zoey, my short, energetic, and chaotic gremlin." She laughed as she pulled Zoey close to her side.

Zoey smiles at them, and holds out her right hand. "Pleased to meet ya!" Alexis and Faye looked at her funny for a second. That's when Zoey realized her American came out without even thinking.

Rumi laughed at that sweetly. Zoey's face was so red from embarrassment. "Don't mind her, she's half American, and sometimes when she gets nervous, it comes out."

"I am not nervous!" Zoey protested, puffing her cheeks out like a chipmunk.

Rumi leaned down just slightly, her face two inches away from Zoey's. "Right." She said slowly. "Then why did you try to shake their hands instead of bowing? Hmm?"

"I— you were— I got a little— You were distracting meeee!" Zoey stammered in defeat.

"Thought so…" Rumi said smugly, kissing her on the nose.

Rumi went right back to the conversation while her girlfriend had time to process and let her short circuited brain reboot.

Alexis couldn't help but let out the little laugh she held during that ordeal. "She's adorable!"

Faye had to ask the million dollar question. Looking at Mira now. "What about you, love?"

That brought Zoey back to earth real quick. She stands in front of Mira, back facing her, and Zoey pulls Mira's hands around her own stomach and holds them there. "She's our girlfriend too, actually." She said proudly.

She looked up at Mira, who looked down at her and smiled that warm smile. The kind of warm smile that melted her into a puddle every time.

"I did not expect that. How did that happen?" Faye asked curiously. That earned her a smack on the back of the head. "Ow! What was that for babe!?"

"Don't ask like that dumbass." Alexis scolded.

"Wait… babe?" Rumi asked, tilting her head slightly. Clearly she didn't hear Alexis call out to Faye by calling her that earlier. "You two are dating now? For how long?"

Alexis and Faye shared a look then chuckled to each other. "Dating is an understatement. Actually, we're married." Alexis says as she holds out her left hand. And sure enough, there was a silver, shiny wedding band adorned on her finger, catching the pharmacy's lights in its smooth reflection.

"Oh wow… I… I missed so much didn't I?" Rumi said, voice small. She was holding her hand gently, inspecting the ring. "What else did I miss over the years?"

That was a dangerous question. What they said next was not something she would ever expect.

"Well, there is one more thing. Are you sure you're ready for the answer to that? You've already gone through so much in such a short time… we all have, really." Alexis said, a little worried the news will be too much for Rumi.

Rumi looked at Mira and Zoey, then back at Alexis and Faye. "I've been through worse, trust me. I think I can handle it." She said it with such confidence.

"O-Kay, well, If you think you can handle it…" Alexis started, looking at Faye.

"We… have a daughter. Her name is Ryumee Rya. " Faye added. "And she just turned 3. We wanted to keep you alive by giving her a name close to yours." Her and Alexis held hands when she said it. Letting Rumi take in the information.

"Essentially naming her after you in a way." Alexis added, looking at Rumi with soft eyes.

She stood there, motionless, speechless.

She processed it slowly in her mind before saying anything.

Rumi let out a shaky laugh, a little disbelieved. "You have a daughter, and named her after me?"

"Yes, we do… and we did." Alexis confirmed with a smile. She reached for Rumi's hand and Rumi gave it to her. "She's your niece. Because you've been like a sister to me when we were growing up."

Rumi smiled warmly this time. "I'm honored. Can I see what she looks like?"

Alexis smiled wide. "Of course you can. Give me just a second." She reached into her pocket to pull out her phone.

Faye's phone rings and she turns away to answer it.

"This is the most recent photo I was able to take. We always have a hell of a time getting her to sit still for more than one second for photos." She laughed as she turned the phone toward them.

Rumi's breath caught in her throat and her chest tightened when she saw the little tyke. The little girl had hard chocolate curls just like Faye. Big round brown eyes, and a tiny button nose. She smile she had on her face melted Rumi's heart.

"Oh my goodness!" Zoey exclaimed. "She's too cuuute!"

"That is the cutest little baby I have ever seen!" Mira cooed.

"She's beautiful Lex. She looks just like Faye, I mean exactly like her." Rumi said, her voice a little shaky, tears running down her cheeks again. She smiled warmly despite herself, and let out a small shaky "I have so many years to catch up on don't I?"

"Thank you, it means a lot Rumi. She is everything to us." Alexis said looking at the photo herself, smiling real big.

Faye came back then. "Sorry Rums, we gotta get going. My mother is watching Ryumee and. she can't stay and watch Ryumee much longer." Faye said apologetically.

"Here," Alexis hands Rumi her phone with the dial pad open on the screen. "Put your number in my phone so we can keep in touch and never lose contact ever again."

"Yes! Please!" Rumi said too eagerly, taking the phone carefully and typing in her number, handing it back to Alexis. She watched as she saved her number instantly.

"There, now we can call or text any time!" She said happily.

They all walked to the front of the store where they put their coats and gloves back on. Cozy for the snow outside.

Alexis pulls Rumi into another hug and Faye did the same when it was her turn.

When they parted, Faye held onto her hands a moment longer before letting go. "I'm so happy that it really was you when I came up to you, Rums. We are not letting you get away from us. Ever. Again."

"Come on babe, before your mother loses her mind." Alexis said laughing. "See you again soon Rumi!" She called out as they walked out of the pharmacy.

Rumi stood there with a smile plastered on her face. It wasn't big, but it was real and true. "You okay baby?" Zoey and Mira both had stepped up next to her.

"I'm more than okay Zoey. I got them back. And this time, Juno isn't here to take me away from them ever again." She holds onto both of their hands.

She looked between the two of them. Down at Zoey a little, and up at Mira. Her beautiful girlfriends. Her family. "Come on babes, let's go home."

Rumi blinked, the rush of emotion still buzzing through her chest like static.

“Wait—what about the other place we were supposed to go to?” Mira reminded them gently, squeezing Rumi’s hand.

Zoey froze mid-step.

“OH, fuck,” she blurted, smacking her forehead with her free hand. “I completely forgot with everything that just happened…”

Rumi laughed softly, the sound warm and a little tired, but happy. “We can still go if you want, baby. I don’t mind.”

Mira smiled, relief easing her shoulders. “I’d like that.”

Zoey’s eyes lit up immediately. “Yes! Please. I need caffeine and sugar after that emotional ambush.”

The Blue Tiger was just as Rumi remembered it.

Warm light spilled through the front windows, soft jazz humming through hidden speakers. The air smelled like espresso, cinnamon, and something sweet baking in the back. Snow clung to their coats as they stepped inside, the little bell above the door chiming cheerfully.

Before they could even make it three steps in—

“Well, if it isn’t my favorite troublemakers.”

Rumi’s face broke into a genuine smile. “Ms. Nani.”

The old woman behind the counter beamed, her silver hair pulled back neatly, cardigan wrapped snug around her shoulders. She leaned forward on her elbows, eyes sparkling.

“I was wondering when you two would show up again,” she said, looking between Rumi and Zoey. “I was starting to think you’d forgotten about me.”

“Never,” Zoey said immediately. “We’d be dead if we did.”

Ms. Nani chuckled, then her gaze drifted to Mira.

“Oh?” she hummed, curious and delighted. “And who is this lovely young woman?”

Rumi shifted slightly, proud and affectionate all at once. “Ms. Nani, this is Mira. She’s… our girlfriend.”

For a brief half-second, Ms. Nani simply stared.

Then her face absolutely lit up.

“Oh!” she exclaimed, clasping her hands together. “Well isn’t that just wonderful!”

Mira blinked, caught off guard, then smiled shyly. “It’s very nice to meet you, ma’am.”

Ms. Nani gasped softly. “Oh, she is polite too,” she declared, shooting Rumi and Zoey a knowing look. “And beautiful. You both have excellent taste.”

Zoey puffed up a little. “We know.”

Rumi laughed under her breath, squeezing Mira’s hand. Mira’s ears were pink now, but she looked genuinely happy.

Ms. Nani waved them toward their usual table near the window. “Go on, sit, sit. Get warm. You all look like you just came from something… heavy.”

Rumi paused, then nodded softly. “Yeah. But… good heavy.”

Ms. Nani’s expression softened. “Those are the ones that stay with you,” she said gently.

They settled in, coats draped over chairs, snow melting onto the floor beneath them. The café felt like a cocoon—safe, quiet, real.

Ms. Nani returned with menus, then waved them off before they could even open them.

“Whatever you want today,” she said firmly. “It’s on me.”

Zoey’s jaw dropped. “Ms. Nani—”

“No arguing,” she interrupted, pointing a finger with a fond smile. “Consider it a gift. For the happy trio.”

Mira blinked. “That’s really kind of you—”

Ms. Nani smiled warmly at her. “Kindness is meant to be shared, dear.”

Rumi felt something tight in her chest loosen just a little more.

They ordered—warm drinks, pastries, comfort food they didn’t even realize they’d been craving. As Ms. Nani bustled back to the counter, Zoey leaned back in her chair, exhaling.

“…Today was a lot.”

Rumi nodded. “Yeah. But I don’t think I’d change a second of it.”

Mira reached for both their hands, lacing their fingers together on the tabletop. “You don’t have to carry it alone anymore,” she said softly.

Rumi looked at them—really looked at them—and smiled.

“I know,” she said. “That’s the best part.”

Outside, snow continued to fall.

Inside The Blue Tiger, surrounded by warmth, coffee, and love, Rumi felt—finally, undeniably—home.

“I still can’t believe it…” Rumi said softly, staring down into her cup.

Zoey and Mira both looked at her.

“Can’t believe what?” Mira asked gently.

Rumi exhaled, a fond little smile tugging at her lips. “That after ten years… I got to see them again. Talk to them. Hold my best friends like they never left.” Her eyes shimmered. “And that I have a niece. An adorable little niece.”

Zoey’s expression softened immediately. “Yeah,” she said quietly. “That’s… a lot in the best way.”

Just then, Rumi’s phone chimed against the table.

She blinked, pulled it closer, and frowned slightly. “Huh… unknown number?”

She tapped it open—and her breath hitched.

Her smile widened almost instantly, warmth blooming across her face.

“It’s Alexis,” she murmured.

Mira leaned in a little without thinking. Zoey scooted closer too.

Rumi read the message aloud, voice gentle and full:

Unknown:
Hey! It’s Alexis! I wanted to text so you have my number too. Also—here’s that photo I showed you of Ryumee. Figured you’d want to keep it as a keepsake. Love you bunches!

The photo loaded beneath it.

Rumi’s throat tightened all over again.

She typed back immediately, fingers steady despite the emotions swelling in her chest.

Rumi:
Thank you, Lex. I can’t wait to see you guys again. And one day meet Ryumee.

She hit send and set the phone down, pressing her palm briefly over her heart.

“Rumi?” Zoey asked softly. “What is it?”

Rumi looked up at her girlfriends, eyes bright but calm. “She texted me so I’d have her number too,” she said. “And she sent me the photo of Ryumee. The same one she showed us.”

Mira smiled, warm and sincere. “You look really happy.”

“I am,” Rumi said quietly. “I can’t wait to meet her one day. Hopefully soon.”

Zoey leaned over and peeked at the phone. “Okay but—yeah. She is ridiculously cute.”

Rumi laughed, a real laugh this time. “Right?”

Ms. Nani appeared then with their drinks and pastries, setting everything down with practiced care. She paused when she saw the smiles lingering at the table.

“Good news?” she asked kindly.

Rumi nodded. “Very good.”

Ms. Nani smiled like she already knew. “Then drink up,” she said. “Happy hearts need fuel.”

As steam curled up from their cups and snow continued to fall outside the window, Rumi leaned back into the moment—grounded, full, and surrounded by the people who loved her.

For the first time in a long while, the past didn’t ache.

It felt… complete.

They lingered over their coffees, the café humming softly around them. Steam curled from mugs, pastries half-forgotten as conversation flowed easily—lighter now, easier.

“I’m telling you,” Zoey insisted, stirring her drink with too much conviction. “There is no way Baby’s natural hair isn’t blonde under all that teal.”

Mira snorted. “Absolutely not. That kid gives off brunette energy. Like—soft brown. Maybe auburn on a good day.”

Rumi shook her head, smiling into her cup. “You’re both wrong.”

Zoey gasped. “Excuse you?”

“It has to be dark,” Rumi said matter-of-factly. “Brown or black. There’s no universe where Baby pops out blonde. Zero.”

Mira grinned. “See? Thank you.”

Zoey huffed, crossing her arms. “Wow. Betrayal.”

Rumi laughed—then suddenly paused, her expression shifting. “Okay, uh—give me a sec. I’ll be right back.” She stood quickly. “Coffee went straight through me.”

“Don’t fall in,” Zoey called after her.

“No promises,” Rumi shot back over her shoulder.

She weaved past tables toward the restroom, still smiling to herself. The warmth in her chest hadn’t faded yet—not from Alexis, not from Ryumee, not from this quiet, happy moment.

She finished up quickly and pushed the door open, already turning the corner—

Thump.

“Oof—! I—I’m so sorry! I wasn’t watch—”

The words died in her throat.

The woman in front of her froze too.

Same height.

Black hair pulled back neatly, streaked with white now—time’s unmistakable signature. Fine lines at the corners of sharp, familiar eyes. A face Rumi hadn’t seen in years… but one she could never forget.

Her breath caught painfully in her chest.

“…Auntie Celine?”

The woman’s eyes widened.

And for a split second—just one—something unreadable crossed her face.

The café noise seemed to fall away.