Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“How it’s done, done, done!”

Their voices rang out through the stadium as they hit their final poses, quickly drowned out by the roars of cheering fans. Rumi’s chest heaved, a bright, breathless smile on her face as she turned to her bandmates, both of them wearing similar grins. They’d just finished the last song on their setlist at the final show of their national tour—their first since the disaster at the International Idol Awards.

Well. Banishing the Demon King and losing the demon you’d sort of fallen in love with in the process tended to throw a wrench in one’s plans.

The lights dimmed slowly as HUNTR/X waved goodbye to their fans, slowly descending offstage on their little platform, Zoey blowing kisses and Mira smiling broadly while occasionally sending a few hand-hearts to screaming groupies.

At last, the sound of the crowd’s applause died out as they came offstage, and all three of them slumped forward, groaning.

“Ughhh… I need a break and a fat catnap on the couch with Derpy,” Mira muttered, putting her hand on her back and cracking it loudly.

Rumi nodded in agreement, blinking tiredly as she stretched her arms above her head, jumping a little as Zoey flopped dramatically against her, hand pressed to her forehead. “Oh, Rumi, whatever will we do! We have to walk all the way to the car, and then back to the tower again! It’s so many steps!”

Rumi laughed, poking their maknae’s forehead lightly before pulling her up, her voice warm. “Oh, the horror. However will you manage?”

Zoey grinned, energetic as ever as she bounded over to Mira, tackling the older girl in a one-armed hug. “Oh, easy! I’ll just have to get Mira to carry me!”

Mira blanched, pushing Zoey away none-too-gently, shaking her head vehemently. “Absolutely not. I refuse. I’m wearing heels, Zo. I am not about to risk my neck and die just because you want a piggyback ride.”

Rumi rolled her eyes, shaking her head fondly as she turned away from the pair, pretending not to hear the squawk of protest Mira let out as Zoey paid her warning no mind. She headed for the door, yawning a little as the post-show adrenaline started to wear off—only to be ambushed by Bobby, who burst in, clapping excitedly and startling all of them.

“There’s my girls!” their manager gushed as soon as he’d gotten through the door, beaming and throwing his arms open for a group hug. “What a fantastic show, girls, absolutely amazing—”

“Hi Bobby!” the three of them chorused together as soon as they realised it was him, all stepping forward to wrap an arm around the shorter man. The older man had a warmth about him that few others possessed, and a way of making everyone in a room feel more at ease with his presence.

Bobby grinned delightedly, pulling out his phone and showing them the screen. On it was a steadily rising statistic, HUNTR/X in the lead, with their most recently released single, What it Sounds Like, just having gained over a billion streams.

“I’m so unbelievably proud of you girls, you have no idea,” Bobby murmured, wiping a tear from his eye as he looked between the three of them, his expression radiant. “You all deserve the world. I hope you know that.”

Zoey’s bottom lip trembled as she looked between Bobby and the phone screen, her voice wavering and her eyes beginning to water. “Bobby… you can’t say things like that!”

Mira cleared her throat, her lips thinning into a line as she rolled her eyes, but she too was blinking faster than normal. “Yeah, jeez Bobby… stop being so… mushy, or whatever. It’s not that big of a deal.”

Rumi, ever the quiet one, simply gave Bobby a small, heartfelt smile, squeezing his hand. Bobby returned it, his eyes crinkling in the corners as he clapped, abruptly ending the sentimental moment.

“Right! You girls have been working so hard to get here, so I’ve already taken the liberty of having your schedules cleared for two weeks to take a much-needed hiatus! Visit family! Live life! Be normal! You three need a break. I want you to enjoy yourselves!”

The three idols slowed, exchanging confused looks, brows furrowed. 

“Uh… Bobby… what about the upcoming album?” Mira asked, her arms already crossing over her chest. “We’re booked for weeks. We have dance practice, interviews, fansigns…”

“Yeah, and we need to add the finishing touches to some of our tracks,” Rumi interrupted, already back in business mode as she shrugged off her cropped jacket, exposing the patterns on her arms. “Stars Born to Shine needs more production, Effortless still needs the backing vocals recorded, and Can’t Hold Me Down isn’t even nearly finished—”

Bobby waved his hand airily, shaking his head, his voice brisk and leaving no room for argument. “Enough is enough, Rumi! You three have been slaving away at this for weeks. Months, even! You need a break, and as your manager, I’m insisting you have one! Doctor’s orders. Starting tonight! You need to loosen up a little. Live for once!”

Rumi scowled, looking between Bobby, Mira, and Zoey, looking for some kind of support.

There was none offered.

In fact, the latter had gone completely silent, staring at Rumi’s arms with wide eyes, and Mira was carefully looking anywhere other than her.

Oh.

The patterns.

They don’t… they don’t want to see them.

Right.

Of course they don’t want to see your patterns, Rumi.

I have to be smarter next time.

Rumi quickly picked up the jacket again, pulling it on and laughing awkwardly, doing her best to ignore the voice in her head that sounded a little too much like Celine. “Wow, man. Did it get cold in here, or what? It—it’s fine. We’ll take the break, if you’ve really cleared our schedules out.”

Bobby looked between the three of them a little suspiciously, eyeing Rumi in particular with a skeptical expression, but ultimately dismissed the odd interaction, slipping back into his usual cheerful smile. “I have! There’s no need to worry about any interviews or press tours. I’ve got it all taken care of! Take the time to enjoy yourselves. You deserve it.”

Rumi blinked, the same warmth from before blooming in her chest again as she looked between Bobby and the girls, her expression softening.

Do they know how wonderful they are?

I’m so grateful for my family.

“Thanks, Bobby,” she mumbled, looking away quickly to brush the slightest tear out of her eye, her voice slightly hoarse.

Zoey finally spoke up, seemingly broken from whatever trance she was in, her voice soft as she smiled at Bobby. “Yeah, thanks, Bobs. We really don’t deserve all the things you do for us. You’re a lifesaver.”

Bobby waved her words away, shaking his head with a bright smile as he turned towards the door, calling over his shoulder, “Nonsense! You three girls deserve every good thing in the world! Anyways, your ride is here. Have fun for me, you three! You’ve earned it!”

An uncertain silence was left in his wake, the three of them staring at each other awkwardly for a long moment before Mira stretched, her voice dry as per usual, if not with a slight air of forced casualness.

“Well… let’s go home, I guess.”

The elevator dinged cheerfully as it reached the top floor, the doors opening to reveal their lavish penthouse apartment with floor-to-ceiling windows. The city nightlife was bustling, lights gleaming below them, tiny people and cars moving to-and-fro around the dim streets. Zoey walked over to the window, pressing her face to the glass, sighing contentedly. “Guys, Bobby is literally the best. We totally need to give him a raise. 3% is not enough for everything that amazing man does.”

Mira nodded absentmindedly, kicking her shoes off carelessly as she padded over to the couch, flopping onto it and rolling over the back cushion, groaning in relief as the weight was taken off her sore muscles. “...you said it, man. We should, like… give him a vacation or something, at least.”

Zoey hummed, bouncing over to the couch and settling in beside her bandmate instantly, not bothering to take her concert outfit off as she opened her phone, beginning to scroll social media. Without any pretense, Mira shuffled her way towards the smaller girl, resting her chin on Zoey’s thigh, blinking tiredly at her phone screen.

Zoey smiled, a flicker of warmth igniting in her chest as she moved to run her hand through Mira’s hair without thinking about it, instinctively keeping the other girl close. As she flicked through mindless short-form videos, she came across one of a sea turtle, letting out a loud squeal that startled Mira from her half-dozing state. “Rumi! Oh my gosh, Rumi, you have to come look at this, there’s this adorable sea turtle, it’s named Sprout , it’s so cute—oh my god, we totally have to get a sea turtle now, Mir! See? Look at his happy face! He’s got such squishy cheeks, and a cute little snout, and—”

Mira sighed playfully, burying her face in the fabric of Zoey’s pants, banging her fist on the couch cushion as she let out a half-laugh, half-groan. Zoey grinned at her, then glanced up, only to find that Rumi was nowhere to be seen. Her smile faded, and she looked around for the oldest of their little trio, but she wasn’t anywhere in the room.

She frowned, her hand slowing in Mira’s hair as she nudged the other girl, her voice quieter now. “Hey, Mir? Have you seen Rumi anywhere? She just kind of… disappeared after we got back.”

Mira blinked her eyes open again, her face shifting from playful and relaxed to serious, instantly on alert as soon as Rumi’s name was mentioned. “Now that you mention it, no. She was acting weird after the show, too. Do you think we should check on her?”

Zoey hesitated, worrying her lip between her teeth as she glanced back to the door of Rumi’s room, closed firmly, just as it had been when they’d first gotten back. “I don’t know…” she murmured softly, her voice uncertain. “She’s been doing better since the Idol Awards, but… she’s acting the way she used to after you and I would get home from the bathhouse. All… closed off and distant. Maybe she’s just stressed?”

Mira’s eyes narrowed, and she shifted suddenly, sitting up and setting her feet on the floor. Zoey made a soft noise of disappointment at the sudden lack of warmth, but she stood as well, stretching her arms above her head and sighing. “It’s… it’s getting late. I’m sure everyone’s just tired from such a long day, right?”

Mira glanced at her briefly, her eyes dropping to the sliver of exposed skin as her shirt rode up, then quickly looked away, making a noncommittal noise in response.

Zoey shifted uncomfortably, not missing the look, and laughed a little too loud, her voice a little higher than normal. “Ha! Well. I’m gonna go change and shower. I’m a mess! Post-show crashing is so real!”

Don’t be a burden, Zoey.

Don’t be too much.

Don’t take up so much space.

Mira glanced at her again, raising an eyebrow briefly, clearly noticing her forced smile, but didn’t comment on it, simply nodding again as Zoey took a few steps back, a little too quickly, and accidentally tripped on her own feet, before jumping up, laughing nervously again.

She scrambled down the hall, past Rumi’s shut and locked door, sparing it only a glance before rushing into her own room and shutting the door, her chest heaving and her eyes burning a little. For no reason! What was the matter with her tonight?

She slumped back against the wood, grimacing as she pulled her phone out again. She needed something to do with her hands. A distraction of some kind.

She couldn’t keep falling to pieces over every little thing the girls did, for God’s sake!

Mira stood in the hall, watching Zoey shuffle past her and into her room, the door shutting with a definitive click. Her lips thinned into a line, her heart squeezing painfully in her chest as she realised the way Zoey had avoided her eyes.

Why was everyone acting so weird tonight?

She sighed, stepping slowly up to Rumi’s door, hesitating for a long moment before rapping her knuckles lightly on the wood. “Rumi? You in there?”

There was a shuffling sound, then a muffled, “...yes?”

Mira’s lips twitched up a little at hearing their leader’s voice, but she didn’t let it show, keeping her tone neutral and open. “Can I come in?”

There was more shuffling, and then footsteps. After a moment, the door unlocked—why was it locked?—and Rumi appeared, her eyes slightly red and hair disheveled, wearing one of her old, thick hoodies, from the days when they didn’t know about her patterns. “Is everything okay?”

Mira’s brow furrowed, her eyes flickering over the other girl’s face, noting the blotchy redness around her eyes. “Yeah… you were just acting a little odd after the show, is all. I wanted to come check if you were okay. You seemed… off.”

Rumi’s expression turned a little guarded, and a practised smile that Mira was all too familiar with slipped back onto her face, already moving to close the door. “Oh! No, I’m fine. Really, I promise. Thanks for thinking to check on me, though! I appreciate it! I’m really tired, though, so I think I’ll just—”

“No.” Mira’s hand shot up, bracing itself against the door just in time before Rumi closed it, startling even herself. The two of them stared at each other, Rumi’s eyes widening and lips parting like she wanted to speak, but Mira beat her to it.

“You always do this, Rumi,” she muttered, trying not to let her frustration show and to control her tone. “Just—just don’t, this time, okay? I’m not stupid. I’ve known you for years. I can tell when something is wrong. I know you. What’s going on with you?”

Rumi blinked, and her eyes traced Mira’s face for a moment, taking her in, gauging her seriousness. For a moment, Mira felt the stirrings of hope in her chest, that Rumi might actually listen and open up to her for once—until her expression hardened a little, her voice getting firmer. “I’m fine, Mira. Have a good night.”

Mira paused, hurt coiling low in her stomach, and she folded her arms over her chest, her voice coming out a bit harsher than she’d intended. “You’re not slick, you know.”

Rumi froze, halting mid-step, door halfway closed as her eyes locked on Mira’s again, her voice low. “What?”

“You pretend you’re fine. 24/7. You act like nothing affects you, but it does. And I know it does. You’re hiding something, Rumi! I thought we were supposed to stop keeping secrets after the Idol Awards!”

Rumi’s hand tightened on the wood of her door, knuckles turning white at the edges.

“You act like you’re always alone! Like you don’t have us here for you, to help you! We’re a team, Rumi! It’s time you started treating us like one!”

“Not everything is the same as your family, Mira.”

It was Mira’s turn to freeze.

“Stop projecting.”

The words were cold.

Harsh.

Bordering on cruel, even.

Always the black sheep.

I don’t deserve a family.

They deserve so much better than you.

Rumi’s face paled a little as soon as she realised the words that had come out of her mouth, and she raised her hand to grab Mira’s, but—

Mira’s expression shuttered, any and all warmth gone within seconds. She turned on her heel, her hands clenching on her jacket as she tore it off, heading straight for the door to her room. “Good night, Rumi.”

“Mira, wait, I didn’t mean—”

She slammed the door shut with more force than was necessary, trying to stop herself from throwing something. She tossed the jacket onto the bed, staring down at the fabric like it had personally wronged her, hands clenching into fists.

Stop letting people in.

It only gets you hurt.

You’re going to regret it.

I already do.

The thought burst out, unbidden and unwelcome, and she shook her head, trying to free herself of it, her hands trembling as she stripped off the remainders of her concert outfit, pulling on a soft crewneck sweatshirt and some shorts.

You’re too stubborn.

Too headstrong.

You cause problems.

You are a problem.

Maybe… maybe I am.

It’s my fault.

I shouldn’t have pushed her.

We’re all struggling to adjust to a new normal.

…maybe I should apologise?

She doesn’t deserve your apologies.

Stop letting them get close.

You’re only going to get more hurt.

It’s her fault, anyway.

It is her fault.

Why would she say something like that?

Because she’s hiding something.

They always do.

They’re all soft smiles and bright eyes until it’s behind closed doors.

Distantly, through the haze of her ongoing argument with herself, Mira registered the sound of a door opening, and quiet footsteps, then a knock at the door.

But not her door.

Zoey’s soft voice came through the wood, and Mira could picture her, her head resting against the doorframe, hand braced on the doorknob as she prepared to open it. “Rumi? Can I come in?”

Rumi.

Of course she’s going to Rumi and not you.

This is all your fault.

Mira buried her face deeper into her pillow, and when the tears came, for once she didn’t stop them.

Chapter Text

“Rumi? Can I come in?”

Zoey kept her voice soft, but her hands were shaking. She wasn’t stupid. She’d heard the argument. Heard the things they said to each other.

And she knew her girls.

If they were going to make up, she knew it was her job to make it happen. Rumi and Mira were two very different people, but when it came to their will, they had a matching stubborn streak a mile wide.

Come on, Zoey.

You need to fix this.

I can’t let everything fall apart because of me.

There was a faint sound of sniffling, and Zoey’s heart clenched as she heard a single, muffled, “...yes.”

Zoey slowly cracked the door open, poking her head inside, blinking as her eyes adjusted to the sudden difference in light. Rumi’s bedroom was dark, blinds drawn, and swelteringly hot, the lack of air moving in the room causing a dense, thick sort of atmosphere to descend around the whole chamber.

Zoey blew out a slow breath, raising an eyebrow as she slipped inside, shutting the door behind her with a soft click. She padded over to the bed, slipping her hand gently under the hem of Rumi’s thick sweatshirt and resting it on her bare lower back, scrupulously ignoring the way her heart jumped into her throat at the skin-to-skin contact.

“Hey, Rumi? Gloomy Rumi? Rum-rum? Can I open the curtains? It’s so dark in here I can’t even see my own eyeballs,” Zoey murmured teasingly, leaning down so her lips were right next to Rumi’s ear. “Not to mention it’s also, like, hot as hell in here. And for once, it isn’t because of your stunningly good looks.”

Rumi made a low noise akin to that of a goose being strangled, and Zoey felt a flicker of triumph as the older girl’s cheeks tinged red.

She nodded slowly, avoiding the bubbly girl’s eyes and burying her face in her pillow, her voice hoarse. “...yeah. I really don’t want to answer to any of those ever again. But yeah.”

Zoey hummed cheerfully, bouncing over to the windows and flinging open the curtains, snickering at the squawk of protest Rumi let out in response, simply pulling the windows open in quick succession. Instantly, the room was full of a cool, fresh breeze, far more clearly lit, and Zoey could see clearly to move around more easily. She padded back over to the bed, sitting down on it like she owned the place, crossing her legs and folding her hands in her lap as she stared at Rumi expectantly.

Rumi slowly peeled herself halfway out of the pillow, blinking slowly as she cracked one eye open, staring at Zoey with a mixture of confusion and exhaustion. As they continued to watch each other, Rumi started to fidget, her brow furrowing as she pulled herself out of the sheets fully, revealing red eyes, a messy, undone braid, and a sweet, silly little pout. “...s’too bright..”

God, I want to kiss her so bad.

Her face instantly exploded in a mess of red, and she coughed, looking away from Rumi, doing everything possible to avoid eye contact.

Where in the world had that thought come from?

She quickly did her best to regain her composure, forcing her face into a cheery smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes, hastily moving over to sit next to poor confused Rumi. “Uh—um—you’ll be fine, I’m sure! Now, er—tell me what’s on your mind! What’s got you all… mopey, and… sad?”

Rumi stared at her.

Zoey stared back.

Her face was red.

Rumi tilted her head to the side, like a confused puppy.

Oh, god. She’s so cute.

Zoey panicked, her face somehow getting even redder—if it was possible. She scrambled up from her place beside Rumi, instead slotting herself into the space behind her, her hands already moving up to tangle in the older girl’s pale, messy, lavender locks. She began to unravel her already-loose braid, digging her fingers into Rumi’s scalp, causing their leader’s breath to hitch.

Rumi froze, her eyes widening as she started to turn her head around to look at the girl behind her—but Zoey, already dazed and confused as she was, panicked again, firmly gripping the base of Rumi’s neck and turning it forward again. “Ha! You should—uh, you should—you should not do that, because, uh—I need to braid your hair! Yes! Hair. That needs to be braided. That is… what I’m doing!”

Rumi blinked, her face scrunching up a little in confusion, but then she let out a little oh of surprise as she felt Zoey’s hands start to work, and instantly melted into the gentle touch, her features smoothing out.

Zoey’s own breathing evened out a little, her heart rate beginning to slow as she watched Rumi relax. Her expression softened gradually as she took in the way Rumi hummed with quiet satisfaction, her eyes flickering shut.

After a beat, Zoey bit her lip, finally speaking up, her voice more normal this time. “Hey, so… I had an idea, earlier. I was texting Bobby, and he kinda… told me about this really fancy, high-end party that’s happening later tonight?”

Rumi made a little noise of acknowledgement, her expression soft and open.

Zoey’s heart felt like it was being squeezed.

What was wrong with her?

She swallowed hard, trying to keep her emotions in check, but it only did so much. “I was just… wondering if maybe you wanted to go? Bobby said he thinks we deserve to celebrate after the end of the tour… and I’m… I’m kind of interested? We don’t really do stuff like this very often. Plus, he already sent me the invitations, so...”

Rumi tilted her head back enough to look up at Zoey upside-down, and Zoey couldn’t suppress the surprised, fond smile that curled her lips as she paused the motion of her hands, leaning down until their faces were closer. “Hi.”

Rumi’s face broke out into a lazy, sleepy smile, and she reached up, tapping Zoey’s nose with one finger. “...hi.”

Zoey laughed, moving to cup Rumi’s face for a moment. “Were you even listening?”

The older girl hummed tiredly, that same dopey smile still on her lips, and turned her head to press into Zoey’s hand. “...fancy party. You wanna go. See? I’m great at listening.”

Zoey couldn’t help but roll her eyes, her eyes tracing over Rumi’s features, her voice softening as she moved her fingers back into the lavender locks. “Uh-huh. Sure you are, sweetheart. But do you wanna go or not?”

Her eyes widened.

Sweetheart?

Did I just call Rumi sweetheart?!

She huffed, avoiding the other girl’s eyes, her cheeks burning.

She really needed to get a check on her emotions.

Rumi, however, was unaffected, the little pet name seemingly having gone unnoticed. She arched into the touch, letting out a satisfied sigh before replying. “...yeah, I could go. What’s the dress code?”

Zoey’s hands stilled, and she bit her lip again, trying to keep ahold of her excitement. “Wait—you actually want to?”

Another smile lit up Rumi’s face, and Zoey was struck with the sudden urge to take a picture.

“Obviously I want to,” Rumi murmured, her voice warm. “Why would I pass up the chance to spend more time with one of my favorite people?”

Zoey’s lips parted, a flicker of surprise, and something soft and warm coiling in her stomach. “I—shut up.” She looked away, trying to will the color in her cheeks down, but to no avail. “The dress code is black tie.”

Rumi laughed quietly, reaching up to pinch Zoey’s cheek, her voice quiet. “Mkay… thanks for telling me, Zo..”

Zoey was definitely going to pass away at some point in this conversation.

Silence fell between them, but not the heavy or tense kind—a gentle, comfortable silence that didn’t require words. Zoey eyed the other girl’s hair, tilting her head to the side as she recalled the way that Rumi had reacted when she first took down her braid.

On a whim, she tentatively dug her fingers a little deeper into her scalp, and Rumi gasped, her head tilting back to press into the shorter girl’s skilled hands, her chest moving down with a slow exhale. Zoey’s lips quirked, and she fought to suppress her smile as she leaned down, still scratching her scalp with slow, methodical strokes. “Hey, Ru?”

“..mmhh..?” the older girl’s voice was low and husky, breathy with an odd mixture of want and satisfaction.

Zoey’s brain promptly melted.

Fuck.

She fought valiantly.

She really did.

But she couldn’t quite stop the slight waver in her voice as she managed to ask, “Do you… do you want to tell me what’s wrong now? I’m worried about what’s going on with you and Mira..”

At the first mention of their friend’s name, Rumi tensed, her eyes opening fully as she sat up abruptly, spell broken. “Wh—did Mira put you up to this?”

Zoey gulped, her face instantly heating as Rumi turned to look at her, but forced herself to frown, her voice turning chastising as she grabbed Rumi’s shoulders and pulled her back down into her lap, tangling her hands in lavender locks. “Shush. None of that, now. Of course she didn’t put me up to this. She didn’t put me up to anything. I didn’t hear everything, but I know enough to know that you had a fight of some kind. I’m not stupid. Now stay. And spill.”

Huh. When had she gotten so bold? And so demanding?

Rumi evidently thought the same thing, because as soon as her head was back in Zoey’s lap, she stared up at the noirette for a few seconds, her cheeks slowly reddening and jaw working soundlessly for a moment.

“I… I said a few things to Mira that I shouldn’t have,” Rumi finally muttered grumpily, turning her face away from Zoey’s eyes and huffing. “I was… rude. Too rude. I was just… agitated. I didn’t mean it.”

Zoey’s eyes narrowed, and she made sure to dig her nails in extra deep on Rumi’s scalp, prompting a gasp that made her heart skip a beat or two. “Okay…” she murmured, her voice slow and measured. Not angry, just… testing. “So what did you say to her?”

Rumi’s expression shuttered, and she sat up again, suddenly tense once more as she disentangled Zoey’s hands from her hair, wrapping her arms around herself and refusing to meet the other girl’s gaze. “It doesn’t… it doesn’t matter. I just—I didn’t mean it, and Mira knows it—”

She was cut off by the feeling of Zoey’s hands ghosting up her bare back under the sweatshirt, tracing the curve of her spine and settling on her shoulders, where only the thin straps of her sports bra covered her.

Her breath hitched, and she blinked, her words dying in her throat as Zoey began to massage her shoulders, loosening some of the tension that had gathered there.

“Rumi,” Zoey said evenly, low in her throat, the words cool and laced with just the right amount of something that Rumi shuddered. “Didn’t I tell you to stay?”

Rumi’s mouth opened and closed wordlessly for a moment, clearly at a loss for words, and rather than speak, only managed to let out a quiet whine.

Oh.

Oh.

Zoey was going to have so much fun with this.

She curled her fingers, pressing her nails into the other girl’s neck as she dragged them up from her trapezius muscles to her hair, eliciting a body-wracking shudder and a quiet, tiny moan from Rumi.

Yeah, Zoey was definitely enjoying this.

Maybe a little too much.

She leaned closer, her lips brushing the nape of Rumi’s neck, her voice soft and velvety smooth. “Now, are you going to tell me what you said?”

Rumi whimpered.

Zoey’s mouth dropped open slightly, her eyes widening before she caught ahold of herself, a flicker of warmth coiling deep in her lower belly.

What I wouldn’t give to make her make more pretty noises like that.

Once again, as per usual, her face began to burn crimson.

What was she doing??

This was one of her best friends, for God’s sake!

She quickly dropped her hands, pulling them out from under her shirt, only to realise that would confuse Rumi even more, and brought them back up to her scalp immediately, her heart beginning to thunder in her ears.

“I—I said…” Rumi’s voice cracked, hoarse and shaky, and Zoey was confused for a split second before she remembered how this whole debacle started.

Right.

Fixing things between Mira and Rumi.

She was totally doing that.

She shakily moved her hands back through Rumi’s hair, beginning to redo her signature braid, keeping it loose and messy this time. “Uh-huh…?”

Her voice was way too high and unsteady for her liking.

“I said that… that Mira was projecting her insecurities about her family onto us.”

Zoey paused, her fingers stilling in Rumi’s hair.

“Oh, Rumi…” she breathed, pulling back from the taller girl’s back, her hand flying to her mouth. “You didn’t.”

Rumi curled in on herself, her expression crumpling as she wrapped her arms around her knees, bringing them to her chest. “...yeah.”

Zoey stared at her like she’d just seen a ghost, her face pale and her lips pressed into a thin line. “Rumi, why would you—”

“I didn’t mean to!” Rumi cried, her voice anguished as she buried her face in her hands, her shoulders beginning to shake. “It just—it just slipped out! I never meant to say it to her! I’ve just been—been off all day, and I know that’s not an excuse, but—”

“Why would you even think something like that, Rumi?” Zoey exclaimed, one hand pressed over her thundering heart, the other against her forehead. “Oh my god… that was out of line, Rumi. Way out of line.”

“I know!” her voice was thick with tears, strands from her newly-done braid falling out and framing her face.

Even when she cried, she was unfairly pretty.

Zoey sighed heavily, moving closer to Rumi and grabbing her face with both hands, her voice soft but steely. “Rumi, what on earth could’ve happened today in order to justify saying something like that to Mira? And for the record, just because I’m asking you doesn’t mean I’m agreeing what you did was right.”

Rumi did her best to blink away her tears, her voice shaking as she pressed her face into Zoey’s hands. “I—nothing! Nothing justifies it! I messed up, okay? I know I did!”

She shook her head, trying unsuccessfully to wipe away the tears on her flushed cheeks, and her voice broke. “I just—I keep seeing the way you look at me, okay?”

Zoey froze.

“What… what do you mean?” Zoey asked carefully, brushing away some of the built-up wetness on her cheeks like it was second nature.

Because it was, obviously.

“I—I know you—you see them…” Rumi hiccupped, squeezing her eyes shut and wrapping more of the blankets around herself, as if to shield herself from Zoey’s gaze. “The patterns. I see the way you both look at them. At—at me. I don’t… I don’t want to be some… some oddity! If it bothers you, just… just tell me, please!”

Zoey stared at her.

Then, despite her best efforts, a sharp, incredulous bark of a laugh escaped her throat, her brows drawing together. “Seriously? You think—you think that’s a problem? Rumi, that’s so—”

She shook her head, cutting herself off, her voice brusque as she released Rumi, slipping off the bed and heading towards the door. “That’s ridiculous, Rumi. Mira and I both love you. Even with your patterns. You should know that by now.”

Rumi’s eyes widened, and she made a wounded noise, reaching out a trembling hand for Zoey. “Zoey—Zoey, wait—”

“No, Rumi. I’m not going to wait,” Zoey said sharply, pausing just before she reached Rumi’s bedroom door, her eyes flashing. “You used Mira’s trauma against her—because you wanted to win an argument? Because you were scared of some ill-perceived reaction we might have? That’s not acceptable. I’m going to talk to Mira. Text me when you’re ready to go to the party, okay? It’s at 9:00.”

And with that, she opened the door to Rumi’s bedroom again and slipped out, her hands shaking slightly from a mixture of anger, worry, and nervous energy.

Mira awoke abruptly to the sound of her door banging open, her head jerking up out of the pillow, face red and tearstained.

Zoey stood in the doorway, her eyes narrowed, chest heaving, one leg fully extended, clad in comfortable pajamas—and her door, pushed firmly against the wall, had a notably footprint-shaped impression in the wood.

The smaller girl immediately rushed over, her expression turning worried as she flung herself onto the bed, grabbing Mira’s cheeks and pulling her face close, pressing their foreheads together.

All functioning thought ceased for Mira.

“Are you okay, MiMi?” Zoey whispered, clearly trying to distract her from her spiraling thoughts, her voice full of affected sweetness, knowing she hated the nickname.

But Mira didn’t even protest, just blinking up at Zoey for a long moment before pulling away, retreating back to her pillow and hugging it to her chest, refusing to look at the other girl. Zoey’s expression faltered, her mouth opening and closing silently for a second before she snapped it shut, instead scooting closer to Mira and tentatively reaching out to touch her hand.

Mira pulled away.

Zoey, stung, dropped her hand, looking away, her lips thinning into a line as she pushed herself up into a sitting position, not touching or talking, just… waiting.

Mira curled up tighter, staring silently at Zoey’s thigh, the tips of her ears still faintly pink from the close proximity.

The silence built, but it wasn’t comfortable, or even tense. It was full of unspoken words and emotions—a dam waiting to burst.

Finally, Mira moved, quiet as a mouse, her hand slipping up to Zoey’s, and curling her fingers around it. Zoey started slightly, but softened enough to intertwine her fingers with the older girl’s, tugging Mira’s hand into her lap and beginning to trace the lines on her palm.

Mira’s cheeks warmed, and she instinctively shifted a little closer, resting her head on Zoey’s thigh, not making eye contact, not saying a word. The two of them stayed like that for awhile, in quiet and companionable silence, the tense outline of Mira’s muscles slowly beginning to relax—until she felt a hand on her head. She stiffened, her eyes flickering up to Zoey’s face, but the maknae was purposefully avoiding her eyes, only continuing her slow, tentative stroking of Mira’s hair.

She stared at their youngest member for a long, hard minute, long enough for Zoey’s hand to waver as she tried not to shift nervously, the mood slowly dropping, the air feeling just a tad bit colder…

…but then the fight bled out of Mira, and she slumped against Zoey, curling into a ball and pressing her face into the side of her thigh, trying to blink away the tears that were forming in her eyes.

“Oh, Mir…” Zoey murmured, her expression softening as she quickly shifted, pulling the older girl into a bone-crushing hug, her arms wrapping tightly around the redhead as she guided Mira’s face into her shoulder.

Mira tried not to bask in the feeling of being wrapped in Zoey’s secure embrace, so unlike anything she’d ever had growing up, but something had loosened in her chest that couldn’t be tightened again. She buried her face in the crook of Zoey’s neck, feeling more calmed now that her friend had given her a bit of comfort.

A small smile curled her lips, and Zoey began to hum a soft, mindless tune, continuing to play with the older girl’s pink tresses. Mira slowly relaxed, exhaling a quiet sigh that seemed to release some sort of tension throughout her whole body. The two of them remained there, rotting comfortably in each other’s arms, and eventually, Mira’s breathing began to slow, shifting to a slow, even rhythm.

Mira awoke to the sound of quiet cursing, blinking the sleep out of her eyes slowly. Her cheeks began to heat as she realised the current predicament she was in—trapped half-lying on Zoey’s chest, legs sprawled out behind her—and she lifted her head blearily, hair slightly mussed and eyes half-lidded.

Zoey glanced up from her phone, where a game with some kind of cooking challenge was blinking a large red DEFEAT sign, and a smile split her face, one hand leaving the phone to push back some of the hair from Mira’s forehead.

“Hey, you,” the noirette murmured, her voice and expression soft in a way that had way too many implications that Mira didn’t have the energy to think about right now. “Didja have a nice nap? I wanted to talk to you about something, but you fell asleep before I could.”

Mira made a low, noncommittal noise, burying her face in Zoey’s chest again, this time wrapping her arms around the smaller girl’s waist.

She was toeing a very dangerous line.

Well. It was going to end soon anyway, so Mira might as well enjoy it while it lasted.

Zoey’s breath hitched audibly.

Well.

That was new.

The maknae’s voice grew breathless—just the slightest hint of a change, but enough that Mira noticed. “I take it you slept well, then?”

She laughed, and it was just a tad bit higher than normal. “Anyways, that thing I wanted to talk to you about! I know things are a little… rough right now, and everyone’s tired, but I just thought, maybe… well.. I’ll just show you.”

She picked up her phone again, drawing Mira’s tired eyes to it, and she adjusted her position to rest more comfortably against Zoey’s chest and look at the screen. Zoey closed out the game screen, huffing a little at the giant DEFEAT written across it, before tapping the email icon and moving to her “Important” folder. She opened one of the emails, where large, flashing letters emblazoned:

YOU ARE INVITED!

Come to the hottest party in Seoul!

In attendance will be record-breaking groups like TWICE, Stray Kids, and ENHYPEN!

Plus, idols like Rei Ami, Audrey Nuna, EJAE, and even Andrew Choi!

There will even be foreigners!

American Idols such as Billie Eilish, Chappell Roan, and Hozier!

Dress for black tie only.

Tonight, August 25, one night only, Josun Palace at 9:00 PM KST!

See details below

Mira eyed the email invitation with a mixture of mild confusion and suspicion, resettling herself a little to be closer to Zoey, her voice low and hoarse from disuse. “What… what is this?”

She tilted her head up slightly to look at the younger girl, her temple pressing a little more into Zoey’s cheek, and blinked a little in surprise at how warm it was. Zoey swallowed hard, slipping her own arm around Mira’s shoulders, her voice a little tighter than normal. “It’s an invitation to a party, silly! Didn’t you read it? I just thought… I dunno. I thought maybe we could all use a pickup right now, you know? Especially after everything between you and—you and Rumi.”

Mira tensed at the sound of the oldest girl’s name, her expression hardening slightly as she looked away, her voice low. “Rumi. Right.”

Zoey’s eyes widened, and she wrapped her arm tighter around Mira’s shoulders, as if afraid she would pull away, her voice raising in volume. “Wait, wait—I know, okay? She—she told me what she said. It was way out of line. But… we’re still best friends. And even if we have a two week hiatus—especially if we have a two week hiatus—we’ve got to still be around each other! So just… I—that is, I only—ugh, just… please, Mira. I wanted to go to this thing anyway, but if you guys are fighting, I just… just try to be cordial, at least? Please? Even if you aren’t all… buddy-buddy, I don’t care. I just want everyone to get along for tonight. Please.”

Mira hesitated, her eyes flickering over the younger girl’s pleading, slightly panicked face, and frowned, trying not to give into her demands. “Zoey…”

God, Zoey’s puppy-dog eyes were absolutely lethal.

Rumi slowed by Mira’s door, a frown flickering over her face as she heard her name.

“Rumi. Right.”

“Wait, wait—I know, okay? She—she told me what she said. It was way out of line. But… we’re still best friends. And even if we have a two week hiatus—especially if we have a two week hiatus—we’ve got to still be around each other! So just… I—that is, I only— ugh, just… please, Mira. I wanted to go to this thing anyway, but if you guys are fighting, I just… just try to be cordial, at least? Please? Even if you aren’t all… buddy-buddy, I don’t care. I just want everyone to get along for tonight. Please.”

Rumi’s mouth went dry.

“Zoey…”

Their maknae was giving Mira her best puppy-dog eyes. And it was working. Mira folded under absolutely zero pressure, sighing heavily and flopping back against Zoey’s side, her voice muffled by the latter’s neck. “Fine…”

Zoey’s face reddened instantly.

Rumi’s hands shook.

They love each other.

They’re in love, aren’t they?

Mira hummed softly, curling her arm over Zoey’s midsection, and Zoey huffed, her cheeks darkening, but rested her head on top of Mira’s.

The reality hit her like a thunderbolt.

They’re dating.

Or if they aren’t, they’re will be soon.

It’s only a matter of time.

Look at them.

They’re perfect for each other.

Without me.

Unable to stomach anymore, and tears pricking at the edges of her vision, she turned on her heel, hands clenching into fists as she padded back to her room. She opened the door, slipping inside and shutting it quietly behind her, staring at the floor.

They’re in love with each other.

And not me.

I’m in love with both of them, and they’re…

They’re in love.

Without me.

A sob threatened to build in her throat, and she moved over to the bed, throwing herself onto it and burying her face in pillows.

Of course they don’t love you like that, Rumi.

You spent years pushing them away.

It makes sense that they’re in love with each other.

Not you.

You don’t deserve that kind of love.

Demon.

She bit her lip, angrily brushing away the tears that had started to fall, and pushed herself up off the bed, beginning to pace the room.

Monster.

Maniac.

Mistake.

She gritted her teeth, her despair just as quickly turning to anger.

Rumi stared at her closet, her knuckles going white on the door handle as she yanked it open.

We love you, Rumi. Even with your patterns.

Zoey’s exasperated, almost cold voice echoed against the walls of her mind.

Her jaw clenched.

Even with your patterns.

They loved me unconditionally.

Before they knew.

Now it’s with a condition.

One they have to overlook.

I’m just a burden.

She let out a low growl, startled by the demonic undertones in her voice. Her eyes flickered to the wooden door of her closet, the edge of which had started to splinter under her fingers—which were now claws. She released the wood, stumbling backwards as she stared at her hand in slight horror.

Her patterns were glowing.

Angry, tumultuous red roiled under her skin, tendrils of purple and dark blue streaking through it in curling, billowing clouds. Her vision sharpened slightly, and she blinked, her eyes darting around the room as she took in the change, landing on the mirror in the corner.

Her left eye was golden.

She hissed, hackles clearly raised, lips parting to reveal—

Fangs.

God.

You’re a monster, Rumi.

No wonder the girls don’t love you as much as they used to.

Tears brimmed in her eyes at the traitorous, intrusive thoughts, her hands shaking as she pressed them to her mouth.

Since the battle with Gwi-Ma, her demonic traits had seemingly been lying dormant. Perhaps pushed down by the strength of the new Honmoon.

She looked around the room, chest still heaving, allowing her vision to shift into the double-layered view of the world that the Hunters and demons had. As ever, the faint, pale, iridescent rays of the Honmoon glowed invitingly all around her, covering every surface and running through the air like flowing water in a stream. It created an air of comfort and stability, reminding her that no matter what, despite the blood of demons running through her veins, she too had that of the Hunters.

That she was still a Hunter, despite it all.

Rumi forced herself to take a deep breath, her hands trembling slightly as she blinked back some of the tears brimming in her eyes. She bit her lip, her brows drawing into a scowl as she tried to regain control of her body, to command it once more.

It didn’t work.

She let out a low snarl, and without meaning to, accidentally pierced her bottom lip with her top fang. She hissed in pain, bringing her hand to her mouth and lightly touching the injured area, her eyes narrowing as she pulled her hand away, seeing a droplet of blood on the tip of her claw.

She looked back up at the mirror again, taking in her appearance. Her eyes, one brown, one amber-gold, stared back at her. Two pupils, one the normal round of a human, the other slitted like a cat. Fangs, wickedly sharp and gleaming in the low light. Streaking, twisting purple patterns, a sign of her half-demonic parentage. Her claws, long and thick, unnaturally keen-edged.

Rumi was half-demon.

She looked half-demon.

Her voice even sounded half demon.

You’re a monster, Rumi.

Of course you’re difficult to love.

I’m a monster.

I feel like a monster.

Why do you try to hide it?

Her brow furrowed.

What if you didn’t try to hide it?

The voice was little, new; unusual. Quiet.

And it sounded nothing like Celine, oddly.

Nothing like Gwi-ma.

It almost sounded like her voice.

Almost like... what she imagined Miyeong might sound like.

Her mother.

What?

What if you didn’t try to hide it, Rumi?

This is who you are.

You’re beautiful.

If you are a monster, let the world think so.

Prove them wrong.

Be who you are.

Loud, proud, and strong.

You are your mother’s daughter.

Tears sprang to Rumi’s eyes again, unbidden, as she stared back at her reflection.

She was her mother’s daughter.

Celine be damned, she was her mother’s daughter!

And if the world hated it, then let them.

Because Rumi was her mother’s daughter, and she was proud of it.

And if Mira and Zoey hated it, hated her…

Let them.

She stalked back over to her closet door with the grace of a predator, her two-toned eyes scouring the shelves and hangers for anything to wear to the blasted party.

Her eyes fell on a pair of loose, flowy harem pants, and her hand snapped out to grab them, her claws nearly ripping a hole in the thin fabric, but she released them a moment later with a low hiss. She stepped farther into the walk-in closet, stomping over to where elegant, floor-length gowns hung—revealing ones. She’d gotten them years ago, in preparation for when the Honmoon was golden and she could finally attend fancy events with the girls.

So much for that now.

She swept aside gown after gown, her lips slowly curling into a frustrated snarl with each outfit that didn’t suit her needs. The sound of her voice startled her yet again—low, laced with demonic undertones, and positively animalistic. She huffed, brushing past the dresses—and then her eyes fell on the dress.

Black, with two sashes that curled around her neck to form an X shape over her chest. The back was completely open, covered only by a metal, golden snake that would rest elegantly and evenly between her shoulder blades. There was a long slit that extended to her upper thigh, and a long, flowy shawl that would cover one shoulder. She seized it from its hanger, the metal bending into an unrecognisable shape due to her newfound demonic strength.

A pair of glossy black stilettos gleamed in the corner, and Rumi snatched those up too, her lips curling back into a predatory grin.

It was starting to come together now.

Chapter Text

“Mir, have you seen my silver earrings anywhere? They look like vines!” Zoey shouted over her shoulder, tearing through her cluttered vanity, her eyes flickering towards the clock on her desk. 8:35. 25 minutes until the party. 10 to leave.

The answering response of no came from behind her, where Mira was getting ready in her ensuite bathroom. She groaned, ducking into her closet to find her black stilettos. She may not be able to find the right jewelry, but she sure as hell wouldn’t be short to an event like this.

By the time she slipped them on and stepped out of her closet, her clock already read 8:40.

Well, shit.

She scrambled over to her vanity again, quickly whisking out some eyeliner and mascara to adjust the final look, worrying her lip with her bottom teeth. Was winged eyeliner too much? Would Mira and Rumi think she was trying too hard?

She shook her head, trying to get rid of the offending thoughts, and quickly gave her face a once-over in the mirror. Nodding in satisfaction and deliberately silencing her traitorously anxious thoughts, she grabbed her setting powder and dabbed it on, spreading it evenly. Now, with any luck, it wouldn’t be messed up with any sweat or tears that may come later in the night.

She checked that her hair was still in its loose, elegant braid, adjusted some of the pieces framing her face, and nodded once in satisfaction.

Distantly, as Zoey glanced at the clock again—which read 8:45 in glowing red numbers—she heard a door open and close, but paid it no mind. Standing up, she moved over to her dresser and pulled out the closest thing she had to her silver vine earrings—a pair of elegant silver snakes that curled around her ears and left little silver chains hanging down from their tails—and slipped them on. She heard a second door open and close, and this time looked up to see Mira standing in the doorway of the bathroom.

Her breath caught.

Mira looked magnificent. She was clad in a form-fitting red suit that might as well have been tailored to fit her, half of her hair down and brushed from its usual pigtails, the other half held up by a small, wavy ponytail. Two thin, braided strands of hair cascaded down to frame her face, highlighting her makeup. An elegant golden watch gleamed on her wrist, her eyes daubed with just the right amount of red-to-gold eyeshadow, and a gold band glittering on each middle finger.

And she was wearing heels. Which made her even taller than usual.

Zoey cleared her throat quickly, coughing into her fist as she cleared her throat, trying very hard not to spontaneously combust from the sudden influx of blood to her cheeks. She quickly grabbed a black, over-the-shoulder purse from her bed, stuffing her wallet and phone into it while she gave herself a quick once-over.

Her breath hitched again when Mira came up behind her, their eyes locking in the mirror, one hand brushing against her waist and the other pressed against her abdomen, her voice silky in Zoey’s ear. “Hey. You ready to go, pretty girl? The driver is here and ready.”

Zoey’s brain promptly melted. “Um. Yeah. Yeah, totally. Let’s go.”

Mira smiled a little, slipping an arm around the smaller girl’s shoulders and guiding her towards the door, pulling it open with a practiced ease that Zoey envied. She quickly ducked out from under her arm, however, moving towards Rumi’s door to knock and tell her they were ready to go—only to see that their leader’s door was open and ajar, with no sign of her inside the bedroom. A frown flickered onto her face, and she poked her head inside, glancing around quickly to make sure.

Mira approached languidly behind her, hands in the pockets of her suit as she leaned against the wall, raising an eyebrow at Zoey’s expression. “What, is the precious princess of pop not in her bedroom? It’s whatever. She’s probably in the kitchen.”

Zoey shot her a look, leaving the door open and pushing past Mira, heading for the kitchen. It was empty, the floor-to-ceiling windows reflecting Zoey’s increasingly worried expression as she looked around for any sign of Rumi. Mira’s brow furrowed, and she straightened up, following the shorter girl into their great-room, her arms crossed. “The hell? Where did she go? We have to leave, like, right now.”

“I know!” Zoey cried frustratedly, throwing her hands up in the air, then quickly smoothing down her braid, exhaling slowly. Just then, her phone buzzed in her purse, and she quickly unzipped it, pulling out the device and opening the notification. It was from Rumi, and it simply read:

Rumi 💜

Went ahead and left for the party.

Already on the way, don’t worry about me.

Zoey’s heart sank.

“She… she left already,” she mumbled, her expression blanking, voice trailing off.

Why would she leave without us?

Mira, however, had no such qualms.

“She what?” the taller woman demanded, her brow furrowing instantly as she stepped forward, snatching Zoey’s phone from her hand and staring down at the screen. “She—she left? Without us?”

Zoey nodded, blinking quickly so as not to disturb her makeup before the party had even started, grabbing her phone from Mira’s hands and shooting Rumi a quick thumbs up emoji. She stuffed the device back into her purse and interlocked her fingers with Mira’s, practically dragging her to the elevator, her voice tight and higher than usual. “Let’s—let’s just go, okay? She’s not here, and there’s no point in wasting time worrying about it. The driver is waiting.”

The ride there was… tense.

Zoey sat perfectly still on one end of the cab, grabbing at the armrests every time the limousine driver made a particularly sharp turn, one hand darting to her phone to anxiously check for notifications or the time every few minutes.

Mira, on the other hand, lounged on the other bench, her posture open and almost relaxed, but Zoey knew her well enough to know that there was no way that she was anything but poised and ready to explode. She hid it well, but she was coiled even more tightly than Zoey was at the moment—she just had a different way of showing it. Every so often, she would occasionally check her phone, looking at the time lazily, looking for all the world an unbothered, wealthy businesswoman who had no need for the busy schedules around her.

Zoey’s mind was stewing with unspoken questions that echoed Mira’s, fidgeting with her hands as she stared out the window.

Is she mad at me?

No—she couldn’t be, surely. I told her we loved her and her patterns. There’s no way that could’ve come off wrong. How much clearer could I have been?

But she looked so betrayed…

Maybe she was just upset that I went to Mira after I heard what she said?

But Mira needed my support more than Rumi did… surely she could tell that.

Isn’t that enough of a reason?

Did she think we were mad at her?

I mean… Mira is, I think, and rightfully so, but—I’m not.

Does she think I’m mad at her?

Finally, across from her, Mira spoke, her voice casual, but with an underlying edge beneath it, startling Zoey from out of her thoughts. “Why would she do that? It’s so… unlike her. She knows we leave together. We go everywhere together. I mean, if she doesn’t want to do that, it’s fine, but—she should at least tell us that.”

Zoey’s eyes darted up towards her, and she laughed nervously, twisting one of the thin, delicate silver rings on her finger that Mira had bought her years ago. “I know, I know! It’s crazy. It really is. But she’s probably just… on edge. She’s been acting weird all night since the show ended.”

“It still doesn’t excuse her behavior,” Mira muttered, her hand tightening around her phone in her pocket, her voice low. “We’re supposed to be a group. Not… not whatever this is. I just can’t shake the feeling that she’s still… hiding something from me. From us.”

Zoey’s expression softened a little, and she gave Mira a strained smile, reaching over the gap to close her hand around Mira’s, her voice quiet but steady. “Hey, hey. It’s you, and me, and her. We’re HUNTR/X. We’re the number one girl group in the world, and we’re insanely skilled demon hunters. We’ve got this, okay? We stay together. We’re strongest together. The end of the world couldn’t break us apart, and a few measly words aren’t about to, okay?”

Mira’s eyes flickered up to Zoey’s, and she finally relaxed a little, a little of the tension bleeding out of her stiff frame. “I guess…”

Zoey opened her mouth to reply, but before they could, she realised the limo was slowing down, and not at a stoplight. She looked out the window, swallowing hard as she took in the sleek, futuristic entryway.

They had arrived at Josun Palace.

Mira took a deep breath, eyeing the valets that were quickly stepping up to open the doors for them. She looked over to Zoey, clad in her gorgeous, midnight-blue dress, and held out her hand to the shorter woman, her voice instantly slipping back into that smooth, confident tone she reserved for interviews. “Ready?”

Zoey’s cheeks heated microscopically, but she nodded hastily, slipping her own arm through Mira’s as the doors opened. Mira stepped out first, blinking a little in the bright light of the entrance, waving away any attempts of the valets to help her, and gently pulled Zoey the rest of the way out, keeping one hand firmly clasped on her arm. Zoey moved fluidly, catching on to Mira’s idea, and shifted more into her side, her doe-brown eyes blinking up at her almost innocently. Mira offhandedly wondered what those eyes would look like if their owner were caught in the throes of passion—

Focus, Mira!

She turned away, gritting her teeth as she tried to tamp down on the rush of heat that coiled in her lower belly, swallowing the desire to push Zoey up against the nearest wall. She held the door open for the shorter woman, pulling her closer against her side as the bouncer let them through without even needing an ID, feeling a rush of satisfaction that they were notable enough to be recognised right away. They waited for the lift to arrive together, Mira trying desperately not to tangle her fingers into that loose, wavy braid, and pull her head back to expose her throat and hear those pretty noises she’d make—

Mira! No! Bad! She’s your best friend, not your girlfriend!

She coughed hard, causing Zoey to look up at her curiously, but Mira scrupulously avoided looking at her, shifting her free hand to rest in her pocket as they stepped into the elevator. The doors shut with a small ping as it began to move, leaving them alone. In the elevator. With no cameras.

Mira’s hand clenched on the fabric of her pants, and she took a deep breath, doing her absolute best not to look at Zoey, because if she did she was going to tear that stupid little dress off of her, and she absolutely could not—

Zoey hummed, leaning against her, and oh god, had her head always fit so perfectly into the crook of Mira’s neck? Had she always smelled like cherry blossoms and peaches?

Mira was going to pass away. On the spot.

But then Zoey lost her balance, just for a moment, and Mira’s hands instantly came up to steady her, resting on her waist, and they were pressed together, back to front, and Mira was actually going to spontaneously combust. No question about it. Her eyes darted down to Zoey’s, and Zoey was looking up at her, eyes wider than usual, lips just ever so slightly parted, and it was absolutely altering Mira’s brain chemistry.

She released Zoey like she’d been burnt, her cheeks flaming as she cleared her throat, directing her attention towards the glowing number display, her voice raspier than normal. “Ah—nearly our floor. Are… are you ready?”

Zoey looked away, not meeting Mira’s eyes, and something felt off about it that she couldn’t quite place. Her voice was quieter than before, more subdued as she replied, “Yes. We’re going to have everyone’s eyes on us, I’m sure.”

Mira took a deep breath, nodding and plastering that confident, sexy smirk on her face the way she knew had their fans foaming at the mouth, because she’d seen the evidence of it on social media. She smoothed down her hair, checking her reflection quickly in the silver door of the elevator, before offering Zoey her arm and shooting her a wink. “Let’s go make everyone’s jaws drop.”

Zoey nodded, mustering a faint smile as she looked up at Mira, her eyes tracing the lines of her face for longer than Mira would’ve thought. She blinked, but kept up her smile, allowing the shorter woman to take her arm as the elevator doors opened.

Zoey had been right.

It had been barely an hour and a half into the party, and already the both of them were having to fend off flirtatious advances from other partygoers.

And Rumi was still nowhere to be seen.

Zoey paced anxiously, checking her phone every few minutes, champagne flute clasped in one hand as she took the occasional sip. She approached Mira after the latter sent yet another disappointed young woman on her way with a cordial smile that was strained at the edges, her voice low and worried. “Mir, it’s been almost two hours and Rumi still isn’t here. She was supposed to be here with us! Where on earth could she be right now?”

Mira’s expression soured before she schooled it back into a tight smile, keeping her own voice low. “How should I know? I haven’t talked to Rumi all evening. She’s not here, I don’t know where she is. She could be anywhere.”

Zoey groaned, leveling Mira with a glare pointed enough to rival her own, her voice turning sharp. “I am not letting you be all mopey and grumpy about this right now, Mira. Rumi is missing and I absolutely refuse to hear you grouse about how mad you are at her. I get that what she said was fucked up, but at some point, you need to get over it.”

Mira’s face darkened into a glare, and she opened her mouth to respond before she was cut off by a young woman tapping on her shoulder, her voice sugary-sweet and bright.

“Er, excuse me, I hope you don’t mind, but, I, uh.. you’re Mira, from HUNTR/X, right?”

Mira immediately whirled around, her glare gone in a second, replaced by an easy, casual smile as she leaned against their little high-top table, tilting her head to the side, her voice velvety-smooth. “The one and only. What can I do for you?”

The girl giggled, putting her hand to her mouth, clearly flustered. “Oh—I just… er, I’m a really big fan, and I was just wondering if I could give you a hug? And maybe get a picture?”

Mira hummed, letting out a low chuckle as she reached over, slipping an arm around the girl’s waist. “Maybe not a hug, but I can take a picture. You got your phone, sweetheart?”

The girl gasped, nodding hastily and going red in the face. She reached into her bag, fumbling quickly with her phone and holding it up in the air, beaming at the camera with a bright, nervous smile. Mira gave it another lazy, confident smirk, pulling the girl farther into her and posing. After the shutter went off, the girl giggled again, standing up on her tiptoes to press a kiss to Mira’s cheek and leaving a blatant red lipstick mark, before skipping away and waving enthusiastically.

Mira chuckled again, shaking her head in amusement as she took a swig of her drink, turning around towards the table—only to see Zoey, her lips thinning into a line, giving the girl’s retreating form a dark look.

It did funny things to her heart.

“Jeez, who spit in your ramyeon, Zo?” she joked, her voice low and easy. “You look like you’re about to murder someone. Maybe a demon.”

Zoey stepped towards her, grabbing Mira’s suit lapels harshly and pulling her forward, catching her by surprise. Her breath hitched, and she stumbled a little in her tall heels, bracing one hand on the table and one on the wall, thus accidentally closing Zoey in between her arms. The latter didn’t even blink, instead reaching up with a handkerchief pulled from her purse to roughly wipe off the lipstick mark on her cheek. Their eyes met, and something electric passed through Mira’s body as she stared down at the smaller woman, her brain shorting out.

And then it was over.

Zoey stepped back, her expression neutral and her voice distant, bordering on cold. “There. Can’t have you going around looking like you just popped into the bathroom for a quickie. Fix your hair. Mira of HUNTR/X is supposed to be put together, right?”

Mira stared at her. Zoey was calmly wiping her hands on the kerchief, not even looking at Mira as she delicately dropped the soiled cloth into a nearby trashbin, acting as if she hadn’t completely robbed Mira of her wits using nothing but her hands.

Mira opened her mouth to speak, but no sound came out. Zoey glanced up then, raising an eyebrow daintily as she eyed the taller woman up and down. “What? Cat got your tongue, hotshot? I thought you were the one and only Mira of HUNTR/X. What’s got you looking like that, sweetheart?”

Mira’s jaw dropped. Zoey reached up, her expression still disinterested as she gracefully put one finger on the underside of her bandmate’s jawbone, closing it with a soft snap of Mira’s teeth clacking together. Mira blinked, a frown flickering over her face as the smaller woman murmured, “Close your mouth. You’ll let flies in.”

Mira’s cheeks reddened, and she looked away, clearing her throat and stepping back. “What are you even—”

She was cut off by a sudden wave of silence that swept over the room. Startled, both she and Zoey turned, their eyes falling on the cause of the hush.

A security escort was holding open the door, and the faint click, click, click of heels could be heard on the polished floors as a figure strode into the room, eyes flickering over the gathered crowd. Mira felt her breath catch in her chest. Beside her, Zoey inhaled sharply, and Mira was certain she was feeling the same.

Rumi was dressed in the most elegant—and revealing—dress they’d ever seen on her. Her hair was done up in an elegant low bun, small pieces framing her face prettily, and a pair of golden snake earrings twisted around her ears, their tails forming into a dangling chain that tinkled whenever she walked. Her hands glittered with a number of delicate gold rings, and as she strode farther into the room, Mira caught sight of a long snake that curled up right between her shoulderblades—which were open to the entire room, her iridescent patterns gleaming faintly in the low light. She moved with all the grace of a feline hunter, and Mira could’ve sworn she saw a flash of gold in those warm brown eyes as she walked lightly throughout the room.

The crowd parted effortlessly around her, and she tilted her head to the side, eyeing some of them with a neutral, perfectly calm expression—but then walked right past both of them, not even sparing them a glance.

Zoey’s eyes widened, and she made a choked noise, her head snapping towards Mira, but Mira had eyes only for the shorter woman, for the way her backless dress dipped just low enough to show the slightest curve of her ass before being indecent, the way her abdominal muscles rippled under her skin with every single step she took, the way her legs—god, her legs—were so perfectly tanned and toned.

Rumi’s dress trailed behind her, almost reaching the floor as she stalked towards the drinks table, picking up a single champagne flute with a steady hand, and taking a slow sip. Slowly, conversations began to start up again around them, and the music seemed to return in a rush to Mira’s ears as she realised that Rumi had, in fact, just walked right past them both and pretended not to know who they were.

Their own bandmate.

She took a step forward, her hand clenching into a fist—but Zoey grabbed it, holding her back, her voice low. “Mira, don’t. You’ll cause a scene.”

Mira’s eyes flickered back towards Zoey, her teeth gritted as she reluctantly allowed herself to be led back to the table. The two of them sat down, side-by-side, eyes locked only on the one person that held nearly all of the room’s attention.

Rumi stepped lightly around the room, circling the dancefloor, her eyes glittering in the low light. Mira’s hand tightened on her own glass as she watched Rumi sip her champagne slowly, surveying the other partygoers. She was startled by Zoey slipping her hand onto her leg, giving it a light warning squeeze, its meaning clear: don’t move a muscle. She glanced down at the smaller girl, her expression softening a little as they made eye contact. Zoey shook her head slowly, widening her eyes meaningfully.

As she gripped the glass delicately with two fingers, Rumi turned back towards them, her eye makeup glittering in the low light. She stalked gracefully towards them, her hips swaying entirely way too much for Mira’s comfort, and as the shorter woman approached, she swore she caught the scent of jasmine and cinnamon curling around her like a cloud—dark, moody, and delightfully aromatic.

She swallowed hard, gripping her drink with more force than necessary, her voice tight. “Rumi. Is that new perfume you’re wearing?”

The shorter woman’s eyes flicked up and down over her once, and a small, almost mocking smile curled her lips, her voice low. “Something like that.”

She turned to Zoey, tilting her head, her smirk widening. “What a… lovely dress option you’ve chosen tonight, Zoey. It suits you. And you, Mira, why—you’re absolutely ravishing in a suit like that. You two look the perfect couple tonight, don’t you?”

Mira choked on her champagne, coughing and spluttering as she pounded her chest, doubling over. Zoey stared at Rumi, frozen in place, her voice far higher than normal as she managed, “Uh… I-I mean, I guess, but— but you know we aren’t—”

“Oh, no, of course I know that,” Rumi laughed, waving a hand airily as she eyed the two of them with that same damn smirk. “But other people don’t. You really don’t want the press getting the wrong idea, now do you? It would be awfully hard to deal with if your relationship went public. Wouldn’t you think?”

The two of them stared at her, Zoey’s face reddening as she tried to stammer out a response, and Mira completely frozen as she stared down at Rumi.

Why is she acting like this?

Zoey finally managed to put herself together enough to speak, her voice strangled. “We—we’re not being romantic, Rumi, we’re just friends! Just bandmates! Just like we are with you! You know that!”

Rumi’s eyes narrowed, and though that devilish smile didn’t falter, Mira could’ve sworn her voice was half a degree colder as she looked between the pair of them. “...Oh, please, Zoey. Everyone who has eyes can see… how close you two are.”

Mira inhaled sharply, ignoring the way her own ears were reddening a bit, stepping forward and putting herself between Zoey and Rumi. “Stop talking to her like that, Rumi. I don’t know what’s gotten into you, but you’re acting… off. Let’s just forget all of this for now and enjoy this stupid party, okay? We’re here now. Let’s make the best of it.”

Rumi’s eyes flickered up to Mira’s, and she tilted her head, her smile turning almost mocking at the edges, her voice dripping with faux-sweetness. “Oh, Mira. Mira, Mira, Mira. Zoey’s knight in shining armor. How grateful she must be to have you to defend her!”

She stepped closer, lowering her voice as she stared up at the taller woman. “How does it feel to constantly be protecting other people and yet still be the family disappointment?” she tsked, shaking her head with fake disappointment. “Nobody to protect you, hmm? Guess you really don’t deserve a family.”

Mira stood, frozen, her face paling and her expression turning to stone.

Behind her, Zoey gasped, her hand flying to cover her mouth. Rumi’s eyes immediately fixed on the shorter woman, her smile turning cruel as she laughed softly, one hand moving to cover her mouth as well, as though being impolite. “Oh, and of course, Zoey! How could I forget you!”

Then she moved closer to Zoey, and though Mira’s first instinct was to put an arm between them, to move somehow, to protect Zoey, she couldn’t move, Rumi’s words still ringing through her mind.

Still the family disappointment.

You don’t deserve a family.

So when Rumi leaned down to whisper in Zoey’s ear, Mira didn’t try to stop her—and heard every word as a result.

“Although—that’s a bit of an overstatement, don’t you think? Choi Zoey: the most forgettable member of HUNTR/X. Still a people pleaser, I see. How’s it feel to not matter to a single person beyond what you can do for them?”

Something inside of Mira snapped, and despite still reeling from Rumi’s barbed attacks, she finally managed to move, stepping between the two of them and leveling Rumi with a pointed glare, her voice low and shaky. “Enough. I don’t know what the hell is wrong with you tonight, Rumi, but you need to—to leave, or to get some space, or something, because this isn’t productive for any of us right now. Got it?”

Rumi’s eyes flickered over her once more, and she smirked again, tilting her head to the side. She leaned closer to Mira, one of her fangs gleaming in the low light as her smile grew, her voice a deadly whisper:

“Make me.”

Mira’s heart thudded in her chest, her eyes searching the other woman’s face, a sudden, different kind of heat beginning to move through her. She glared down at Rumi, stepping closer, and then their faces were inches apart, and there was an undeniable tension sparking between them, practically electric, but Mira couldn’t tell what kind anymore.

They were interrupted by someone clearing their throat, and Mira whirled around, moment broken, while Rumi simply turned her head. To her surprise, it wasn’t Zoey, but a tall, handsome young man, sporting a charming, if slightly nervous smile. “Rumi-gwi-ha, are you currently occupied? It is my honor to be your escort tonight, but I do not wish to interrupt any discussions you may be having with your colleagues.”

Mira’s eye twitched. Escort??

Rumi only smiled, her voice turning honey-sweet as she stepped forward, extending her hand out for him to take. “Jeong-hun! You’ve come right in the nick of time, naekkeo. I’d love for you to meet my associates. This is Hong Mira, and Choi Zoey, my fellow members of HUNTR/X.”

Mira felt her blood boil. Naekkeo. Rumi had called this… this boy… naekkeo. She’d called him hers. Like a mark of ownership.

Like they were a couple.

The man blushed a little, and bowed, coughing into his fist as he took her hand as instructed. “Ah, thank you, Rumi-gwi-ha. It is truly an honor!” 

He smiled politely at both of them, bowing deeply again before fixing his hair. “Mira-nim, Zoey-nim, it is my pleasure to meet you. Unfortunately, however, I must pull Rumi-gwi-ha away for just a bit, as I’ve been dying to spend some time with her!”

Zoey looked between them, looking like she’d been struck, but clearly pulled herself together enough to step forward and greet the younger man with a shaky smile. “Ah, Jeong-hun-hu-bae. Always a pleasure to meet a fan!”

Rumi flashed that perfectly put-together smile again, everything seemingly normal once more, but Mira swore she saw something else behind it—even though she couldn’t read it. Their sunbae leaned into her escort, her voice sugary-sweet as she purred, “Oh, but of course, naekkeo! Let’s go, shall we? I’ve been craving a bit more of that champagne..”

And with that, she allowed Jeong-hun to lead her away, sending Mira one more unreadable smile over her shoulder, her eyes gleaming with a predatory light.

The two of them stared after the pair, and Zoey spoke, her voice rough and strained. “So… what the hell was that?”

Mira sighed heavily through her nose, staring down at the tablecloth, her hand tight on her champagne flute. Zoey smiled weakly at a waiter as he brought her another glass of wine—her third—and turned back to Mira, her voice low. “Are we going to talk about any of this, Mira?”

Mira swallowed hard, her mind still ringing with the low timbre of Rumi’s voice, and shrugged mutely, raising her head only to see if she could see Rumi, as she’d been doing for the last hour or so—only to see that she was gone.

Instantly on alert, she snapped her head around, eyes looking through the crowded room to try and pinpoint their friend, using the instincts gained by hunting demons for so long. She felt a familiar prickle on the back of her neck, one that felt like someone was watching her—or something. She jerked around, looking over her shoulder, and locked eyes with a pair of gleaming, two-toned eyes that belonged to none other than Rumi, staring at her with a predatory, hungry look in them. 

She felt the hair on her arms stand up, and rose halfway out of her chair before she realised what she was doing, feeling her mouth go dry. Rumi smiled, and—god, was that the gleam of her fangs?—before they could blink, she disappeared in a cloud of swirling red smoke that the surrounding, drunk partygoers assumed was special effects of the party.

Zoey made a strangled noise beside her, and Mira glanced at her. “She—she’s teleporting now? When—when did that happen?!”

Mira made a low growl in the back of her throat, grabbing Zoey’s hand and pulling her to her feet. Zoey stumbled after her, eyes wide as she laced her fingers with Mira’s, letting out a gasp. “Look—!”

Rumi stood in the arched entrance of a nearby hallway, her lips curled into that same devastatingly provocative smile, and winked at them, before disappearing and reappearing again a bit farther away.

Zoey didn’t wait, this time taking the lead and dragging Mira behind her, leaving the taller woman to stumble after before she regained her balance and sped up to be beside Zoey. The two of them slipped into the small hall, eyes scanning every nook and cranny for a possible hint of their bandmate. She was nowhere to be found—except for the faint, echoing peals of laughter that seemed to surround them as they speedwalked through the corridor.

Finally, as they reached the end, the thin passage opened up into a spacious chamber, vaulted ceilings stretching high and cresting at a magnificent crystal chandelier, high above them, casting the room in strange, twisting shadows. Again, the sound of Rumi’s soft laughter reverberated around the room, alerting both of them.

“Rumi!” Mira shouted, her voice bouncing off the walls, expression tight as she whipped her head around, searching for some sign of her. “Enough of this! What are you doing? You’ve been an ass all night, it’s time you explain yourself!”

Zoey grabbed her shoulder roughly, widening her eyes meaningfully in a look that clearly said keep your voice down, idiot. “Rumi?” she called, softening her voice a little more than Mira had. “We really do just wanna talk to you. You’ve been off all day. We’re worried.”

There was only silence in response, for long enough that Mira had begun to worry that Rumi had left them behind already, before the reply came, low and dangerous, its owner still hidden somewhere in the room.

“Worried? Hardly. You two have been enjoying yourselves for plenty of time without me. The only real reason you’re upset right now is because I’ve shown up and ruined your perfect little fantasy. What’s the matter? Am I too distracting? Did you finally remember I existed?”

Mira’s expression darkened, and she opened her mouth to reply, but Zoey spoke before she could. “What are you talking about? What is this all about? You need to stop skulking around in the shadows and just come talk to us!”

Rumi’s laugh was calculated and cold.

“Oh, please, Zoey. I’m not stupid. I see the way you two look at each other. And I see the way you two look at me.”

Gradually, with slow, methodical steps that caused her heels to click softly on the marble floors, Rumi stepped out of a slightly hidden alcove along the far wall, still clad in that positively sinful dress.

“I know how you feel about each other,” Rumi sneered, spreading her hands, which Mira could now see were not only covered in patterns—a deep, nasty purple, the color of a bruise—but that her claws were out, the pointed ends of her fingernails wickedly sharp. “You’d have to be blind not to see it. You look at Mira like she’s hung the moon, Zoey—and you, Mira, you look like someone hit you with a truck the moment you lay eyes on her. You’re in love with each other.”

The worst kind of silence greeted her words.

Mira stood, paralysed, as she was analysed and dissected by one of the two people she called her family. “I—I don’t—what are you—”

Zoey’s cheeks were bright red, and her eyes glimmering with something that looked like it might’ve been unshed tears—so Mira pushed down her whirling emotions and stepped forward, reaching out towards Rumi, though she was still too far to touch, her hand palm up.

“Rumi, come on,” Mira growled, the back of her neck hot and ears burning with a mixture of shame and embarrassment as the older woman called her out. “You’re not—why are you doing this? Zoey’s right! You need to talk to us for once, for fuck’s sake! You’re a grown adult!”

Rumi laughed, low and dark in her throat, stepping forward delicately until she was less than two feet away from Mira, her eyes burning with that same strange light. “I need to do this, I need to do that. My whole life, it’s been things I need to do, that other people need me for.”

She stepped closer, into Mira’s personal space, her hand coming up to trail lightly over her outstretched arm. Frozen with something she didn’t want to name, and heart in her throat…

…Mira let her.

“When do I get to decide what I need to do, Mira?” Rumi whispered, her voice dripping with honey and the sweet kiss of poison. “When do I get to decide what I want?”

She smiled again, one hand moving to cup Mira’s jaw as she tilted the other woman’s head down, thumbing over her face like she was going to pull her in for a kiss. “Or… who?”

Everything in Mira simultaneously begged her to run and screamed at her to give into the desire thrumming through her veins.

And then Rumi was gone, disappearing in another cloud of swirling red smoke.

Mira exhaled sharply, not realising she’d been holding her breath, her cheeks flaming as she stared down at the floor where Rumi had stood, her hands shaking as she tried to calm her racing heart.

She looked up, seeing Zoey still frozen in place, staring at her, her chest heaving and her eyes wide with something Mira couldn’t read. 

“Zoey—”

“Mira—”

They paused, both equally flustered and caught off-balance by Rumi’s sudden difference in attitude, and Zoey looked away, fidgeting with one of her earrings. “We… we need to talk. Apparently. About… about a lot.”

Mira’s heart sank down to the very bottom of her stomach, but she nodded, moving closer to Zoey and reaching out to clasp the other woman’s wrist, her voice softening. “And we will. I promise. About this… us. Whatever it is… I promise we’ll talk about it. But we need to find Rumi first, okay? And talk about everything with her, too. There seems to be a bigger issue going on right now. Can you do that for me, Zo?”

The noirette’s eyes flickered up to hers, her fluttery pulse skyrocketing under Mira’s fingers, before she quickly nodded, visibly centering herself with a hard swallow. “Right. Rumi first. Got it.” She sent Mira a quick, grateful smile, before seemingly shaking herself off and starting towards the hall.

Rumi was a master of evasion, and she knew it.

For the next two hours, she led the girls on a wild goose chase, avoiding them for just long enough to flirt with a few faceless strangers and slip another glass of champagne or wine.

And she made sure they saw, too.

Mira, specifically.

Every time Rumi laid her hand on Jeong-hun’s arm, laughing exaggeratedly at some dumb joke he’d made that wasn’t particularly funny at all, Mira’s face darkened even more, and she looked like she wanted to strangle Rumi.

Which was deeply entertaining.

So as Rumi continued their little game of cat-and-mouse for the umpteenth time, she slipped through the crowd with a little less grace than usual, even almost stumbling over her own two feet once. She righted herself quickly, shaking off her disorientation, and moved over to the drinks table, picking up her second glass of wine—and her fifth drink for the evening. She stepped a little shakily over towards the wall, leaning against it as she waited for Zoey and Mira to get back from their most recent excursion, snickering to herself as she remembered the looks on each of their faces as she teased them both.

She was interrupted, however, by a low voice clearing their throat. She looked up, startled, and was greeted with the sight of a young man, perhaps a decade older, with slicked-back, greasy-looking hair.

“Hey there, gorgeous,” the man greeted, baring his teeth in a poor approximation of a smile, eyeing her up and down like a piece of meat. “What’s a pretty girl like you doing all alone at a party like this?”

She felt her stomach turn, disgusted by the man’s oily appearance—but right as she was about to shoo him away, she saw Mira and Zoey enter from the corridor where she’d left them, both searching frantically for her.

Her eyes locked with Mira’s from across the room, and instantly, a devilish idea was planted in Rumi’s mind.

She turned back towards the man, offering him her most sugary-sweet, flirtatious smile, batting her eyelashes at him as she sauntered towards him, being sure to trail her hand down his arm as she laughed loudly.

“Oh, hello,” she purred, taking another draught of wine from her glass, blinking up at him with fake confusion. “Who are you? You alone all tonight too, handsome?”

The man’s smile grew, and he leaned down, cupping her jaw in his rough, callused palm, his voice low. “Mmm… uh-huh. You lookin’ for someone to spend the night with, sweetheart?”

She laughed, swallowing down her discomfort and coating her voice with as much saccharin as she could possibly muster, biting her tongue not to grimace as the man forcibly pulled her head up and leaned in, his breathe smelling of too much alcohol. “M-Maybe…” she slurred, blinking a little in surprise as the room started to blur around her, beginning to feel dizzy, the edges of her vision darkening.

The man leered at her, towering over her as he moved one hand to the small of her back, his voice losing the barely-feigned sense of politeness it had as he closed his eyes, starting to lean down.

Rumi’s smile started to falter, her eyes widening as she realised what was about to happen, putting her hand on his chest and trying to push him away.

“Babe! There you are! What are you doing?” Mira’s voice cut through the fog and haze of the alcohol buzzing in her veins, startling her. The man stopped abruptly, opening his eyes and looking up at her with clear annoyance, tightening his grip on Rumi’s waist.

“What do you want, girl? Can’t you see I’m already busy? I don’t want another tonight. Go find some other schmuck to mooch off of.”

Zoey appeared from behind Mira, and within seconds, was already distracting the man, flashing her signature sweet smile, batting her eyelashes at him enough for his grip on her waist to loosen. Mira, using this to her advantage, moved forward and slipped her arm around Rumi’s shoulders, pulling her away from him, one hand moving protectively to rest on her stomach as she was pulled against the taller woman’s chest.

Rumi felt a pleasant heat start to buzz in her veins that had nothing to do with alcohol.

The man instantly started towards them, already opening his mouth to protest, when Zoey stepped in between them, her sweetness hiding an edge of steel that both Rumi and Mira knew from experience was more than just a threat. “Easy there, hotshot. Rumi’s already taken,” Zoey whispered, keeping her voice low as she tilted her head, letting her smile get a little too wide—just enough to be off-putting. “By both of us, in fact. So you might want to… how’d you put it? ‘Find some other schmuck to mooch off of’. Have a great night!”

The man hesitated, eyes flickering between Rumi, swaying a little unsteadily in Mira’s protective—almost possessive—embrace, and Zoey, with her too-wide, slightly unhinged smile, and took a step back, muttering incoherently about stupid sluts that clearly want you.

As soon as he was gone, both of them turned back to Rumi, who blinked up at them, that same, burning fire in her belly only half there.

“Caught you, Rumi,” Mira’s voice whispered, low in her ear, sending a shiver and a trail of goosebumps down her spine. “Ready to talk yet?”