Chapter Text
Rumi was in panic mode. She suddenly understood Celine’s insistence that the house needed to be spotless when guests came over (though to be fair, this was not quite the same situation). She had been up since 6am fluffing throw pillows, dusting, vacuuming, tidying, and doing a lot of pacing.
The alpha knew the point of this visit was to make sure there was no mistreatment going on (since Mira was essentially being sent home from the hospital in a very vulnerable state with two strangers) and the tidiness of the penthouse had nothing to do with it as long as it wasn’t unlivable, but still.
Rumi checked her watch anxiously, doing another lap of the apartment before finally throwing herself onto the couch with a groan, careful to avoid her perfectly placed pillows, of course. She still had a while before the social worker would even be there, and she had already done everything possible to try to take her mind off it. Zoey wouldn’t be up for a while and Rumi hadn’t seen any sign of Mira yet, though she was certainly awake by now.
Derpy appeared from wherever he had been hiding (probably the coat closet, one of his favorite haunts), hopping onto the couch and loafing on Rumi’s chest happily, purring as he stared at her with his trademark blank gaze.
“You really have nothing behind your eyes, huh buddy?” Rumi asked him, scratching his ears affectionately. He scooted forward and bumped his head against her face hard enough that she yelped, purring increasing in intensity. “Yeah, yeah, I love you too,” she grumbled, rubbing her bruised chin.
Rumi’s moment of peace was disturbed by a thud and a quiet groan from across the apartment. She shot up instantly, wincing as Derpy was flung from her chest with a startled hiss. “Sorry, bud,” she threw over her shoulder as she rushed towards the sound.
She turned the corner into the hallway just in time to see Mira closing the door of the gym looking exhausted, a delicate splatter of red painting her sweat soaked shirt.
They both froze, staring at each other like two deer in headlights. Mira recovered first, casually wrapping an arm around her midsection so it covered the blood stain. She had a pair of ballet shoes in her other hand which she shifted subtly behind her back, though not in time to keep Rumi from seeing them.
“Good morning,” Rumi greeted slowly, eyes darting between Mira’s guarded expression, the arm clutched to her stomach, and the shoes behind her back. “Were you dancing?” She couldn’t say she was thrilled by the idea of Mira exerting herself like that, but the omega was a dancer, and it surely brought her some peace of mind to do the thing she loved.
“Y-yeah,” Mira replied. She cleared her throat. “It, uh, helps me relax.” So Rumi was right on the money, apparently.
The alpha nodded. “I heard a thud, though. Did you fall? Is that why you were bleeding? Are you okay?” she asked, unable to stem the flow of questions once she started.
“Yeah, I tripped,” Mira said, avoiding Rumi’s eyes. “The blood was just from a nosebleed, I’m fine.” Something about the way she said it set off alarm bells in Rumi’s mind. When she looked closer, she could see Mira swaying lightly, her knees trembling subtly.
For a moment, Rumi debated with herself about whether or not she should say something. Her concern quickly won out over her fear of upsetting Mira, though. “Are you sure?” Rumi asked carefully, searching Mira’s expression. “You look pretty pale.”
Mira’s face hardened instantly, her mouth opening for what was sure to be a sharp comment. Rumi tensed, preparing, but the jab she was waiting for never came. Instead, Mira just sighed tiredly, dropping the protective arm she had wrapped around herself and leaning back against the wall.
She caught Rumi’s surprised expression and laughed, though the sound lacked any real amusement. “What, expected me to bite your head off?” she asked with a raised brow.
Rumi stammered, not sure whether it was rude or not to admit that she had indeed expected exactly that. Luckily, Mira took pity on her. “I know you were, Rumi, it’s fine,” Mira said. “I expected it too, but what’s the point? Just… don’t tell me not to dance and we’ll be fine.”
“Okay,” Rumi agreed easily. She hadn’t intended to anyways, she would never try to take something like that away from her soulmate. She didn’t know much about Mira, as much as she would like to, but dance seemed to be more important to her than almost anything else.
She leaned against the wall opposite Mira, taking in the omega’s pale face and the deep bags under her eyes. “You really don’t look well, though.”
“Gee, thanks,” Mira said drily, not even attempting to sound seriously offended. “I didn’t sleep very well last night,” she admitted. “And I probably shouldn’t have danced so long, it gives me pretty bad nosebleeds when I push myself right now.”
Rumi hesitated, trying desperately to think of what to say. On the one hand, she wanted to be comforting, on the other, concerned. But would either of those really land well? Maybe a joke? Mira liked some well-timed humor.
“Don’t hurt yourself there, Rumi,” Mira chuckled.
The singer startled a little as Mira broke her out of her internal debate. “Sorry,” she mumbled bashfully, deciding to just be honest. “I just… it worries me that you look so pale and shaky, especially because I didn’t know you were even in there, and usually nobody else would be awake right now. What if you fainted, or got hurt, and we didn’t even realize?”
Mira’s face softened a little. It seemed honesty had been the way to go. “It isn’t that bad, don’t worry,” the dancer assured her. “I like to dance in the mornings, usually for like an hour or so before you get up. So, um, now you know where I’ll be.”
Rumi decided then and there that she would start getting up an hour earlier to be sure she was awake if Mira needed her, even if she just spent that hour laying in bed on her phone listening for anything that sounded like a body hitting the floor. “Thank you,” she said quietly, making sure to let her sincerity shine through her voice. Any concession from Mira was a gift.
Mira nodded awkwardly, pushing herself off the wall and wobbling for a moment before stabilizing. “I’m gonna take a shower,” she mumbled, avoiding Rumi’s eyes as she walked towards her room.
Rumi groaned when she realized she was once again with nothing to distract her from the upcoming visit. She couldn't help but feel that this was some sort of evaluation of her ability to care for her omega, which she was clearly doing a shit job at. Mira wasn’t willing to try dropping, was barely getting the amount of physical contact necessary to help with the touch deprivation, and she tolerated being around them at best.
She slid down the wall, pulling her knees to her chest and pressing her forehead against them. You can do this, Rumi told herself. You are in control. You can protect them. You can take care of them. You just have to be better.
The attempted pep talk only deepened the pit in her stomach. Her head began to ache viciously, a pain that brought her back to the frequent migraines she had during her time as a trainee. She tried to shake it off, but it only intensified. Finally, after a few more minutes of keeping her eyes closed and focusing on her breathing, the ache faded enough for her to push it to the back of her mind.
Rumi spent a while more fussing around the apartment, making sure everything was spotless. After about half an hour, Mira returned from her shower and started on breakfast, a simple meal of ramyeon, eggs, fried spam, and assorted banchan.
By the time Zoey had dragged herself out of bed and they had all eaten and cleaned up, there were mere minutes until the social worker would arrive. Rumi forced herself not to fuss over her soulmates, fighting the urge to straighten out Mira’s top where it hung off of one shoulder or try to tame Zoey’s unruly loose hair. She wore it up in her signature space buns so often that it was easy to forget how thick and wild it was when it was down.
Rumi’s anticipation built and built until the buzzer went off. She looked at the intercom and saw grainy footage of a large, burly man, maybe around 40, holding a briefcase. She cleared her throat before speaking to him through the machine.
“Hello, this is Ryu Rumi. Who is this?” she asked, her voice cracking slightly. Zoey chuckled behind her.
“Hello,” he said cheerily, waving at the camera. “My name is Lee Jihoon. I’m here from Omega Welfare Services to check in on a Kang Mira.”
“Perfect, I’ll buzz you up,” Rumi replied.
It was another nerve-wracking few minutes before the elevator opened and the man stepped into the apartment. He was a beta with a scent like woodsmoke, thick and a bit choking, his frame almost intimidatingly tall.
“Hello,” Jihoon said, his deep voice booming through the open space of the penthouse. Rumi saw Zoey and Mira both wince at the volume from the corner of her eye, which was an immediate point against him in her mind.
Jihoon turned towards her, bowing slightly. “Rumi-ssi?” he asked, smiling at her warmly. Maybe he was fine, then, just a bit too loud.
She nodded, returning the bow. “Yes. It’s a pleasure to meet you, sahoebokjisa-nim,” she said.
Zoey snorted quietly behind her. A bit too formal then, apparently.
“Please, call me Jihoon-ssi,” he replied, paying no mind to Zoey’s amusement. Rumi nodded awkwardly, blushing.
Jihoon turned to Zoey next, introducing himself to her similarly. But when he went to Mira, his tone shifted. “And you must be Mira-ssi,” he said, voice slightly higher in pitch and uncomfortably sweet in tone.
Rumi felt a shiver of displeasure at the obvious patronization. She felt a thrum of discontent through the bond, Zoey apparently feeling similarly.
It was obvious that Mira didn’t like this man right off the bat. She didn’t return the bow, staring at him with a blank expression on her face. “Yup,” she responded flatly.
Jihoon’s jolly smile faltered a little, seeming surprised by Mira’s cold demeanor. This was another red flag to Rumi, because she was sure that if he actually knew the details of Mira’s ‘case,’ he wouldn’t expect her to be soft and obliging. Or if he was familiar, he clearly didn’t understand how Mira felt at all.
“Right, well,” he said, turning back to Rumi, “why don’t we take a look around the apartment.”
Rumi nodded, feeling a bit less friendly than she had been at the start but still determined to demonstrate her fitness to care for her pack. “Sure, I’ll show you around.”
She led Jihoon through their home, listening intently as he told her what they looked for during visits like this. Unsafe environment, lack of necessities, unsanitary conditions, signs of any injury or distress, etc, etc. Zoey and Mira trailed behind, obviously less interested in what he had to say.
Rumi hesitated when they reached Mira’s room. They hadn’t discussed it, but she was sure Mira’s personal space was precious to her and she didn’t want to just let him into the omega’s one refuge in this apartment that wasn’t really her home.
Mira cleared her throat, drawing Jihoon’s attention. “This is my room,” she said, voice trembling for just a second, almost unnoticeable except for the fact that Rumi had spent nearly every waking moment focusing on her for almost a week. “I’d prefer you don’t go inside.” She stayed slightly behind Rumi, keeping her distance from the larger man as she spoke.
“Unfortunately, I do need to see the room, Mira-ssi,” he replied apologetically. “I have a responsibility to make sure there’s nothing in there that could harm you.”
Mira bristled at the statement, but unlike what Rumi expected, she didn’t retort with a sharp comment or a humorous jab. The omega just nodded sullenly, opening the door.
Jihoon went in immediately, but both Rumi and Zoey stayed back, not even looking into the room. They hadn’t seen the room since Mira had moved into it, and seemed to be in agreement that they wouldn’t do so until she invited them in genuinely.
Mira stayed at the door, glancing between her soulmates in confusion. For far from the first time, Rumi cursed whoever had convinced Mira that her boundaries would only be respected if she fought for them tooth and nail.
The rest of the tour was uneventful, save Mira’s obvious unhappiness and Rumi’s own crushing anxiety. She kept scanning Jihoon’s face, trying to find any indication of how it was going, but he just held the same easy grin.
Finally, they returned to the living room, Jihoon settling comfortably into the armchair (Mira’s armchair, Rumi’s mind whispered) across from the three of them on the couch.
—
“You have a lovely home,” Jihoon said, beaming at them. Zoey fought the urge to roll her eyes. She didn’t like this man, and she was certain her soulmates didn’t either. There was just something so off-putting about how he looked at Mira, like she was some pitiful stray puppy in need of saving. She forced herself to pay attention to what he was saying, but it was far from easy.
“I have just a few questions for you,” Jihoon began. “Firstly, how have you all been settling into your new routine? It must be a huge adjustment for all three of you.”
Well, that was certainly true. “It’s definitely been a challenge,” Rumi started, glancing at Zoey out of the corner of her eye, “but we’re learning as we go. I think we’re all committed to making this work, so everyone is doing their best.”
Zoey nodded in agreement, ignoring the sick feeling gathering in her stomach. The social worker had no idea that Mira was determined to leave after a month, which meant they all had to act like they intended to be a real pack. The stinging sweetness of the lie made the truth even harder to face.
“Can you talk a bit more about some of the challenges?” Jihoon asked, taking notes rapidly on the tablet he held.
Zoey spoke up first this time, desperate to distract herself from her sinking thoughts. “Part of it is just the normal adjustment of moving in with someone new, but we’re also just all trying to figure out what we need from each other. Like the balance of Rumi’s instinct to care for us versus Mira’s need for independence, or like the purpose of pack rules. But we’ve been getting better, I think.”
Rumi smiled at Zoey softly, grabbing her hand to clutch tightly in her own. The beta could hear Mira shifting on Rumi’s other side, but she couldn’t see what exactly the dancer was doing.
Jihoon hummed thoughtfully. “I see. And has this friction resulted in arguments?”
Rumi hesitated, looking at Mira, who Zoey could now see staring at the floor since Rumi had leaned back a little. “Yeah,” the alpha answered after a minute. “But we’re starting to understand each other better, so we’re talking to each other more than arguing now. I think.”
Another thoughtful hum. “Have you ever gotten so angry during these arguments that you felt out of control or felt the urge to hurt yourself or one of your soulmates? This is a question for all three of you,” he added after only Rumi shook her head in response. Zoey and Mira quickly did the same.
Jihoon’s note taking somehow increased in speed, a miracle, really. “Good, good,” he murmured. “Are any of you feeling especially stressed or overwhelmed by the change? In need of any help or additional resources?”
Zoey hesitated this time. She was certainly feeling stressed, and she knew Rumi was feeling overwhelmed to the point of reverting to old coping mechanisms. Maybe some help would be good, depending on what they could offer.
Before Zoey had a chance to speak up, Rumi answered with a decisive shake of her head. The beta was surprised by a sharp flash of irritation in her chest at Rumi’s (false) denial, and based on her mate’s sideways glance, the annoyance had trickled through the bond as well. She forced the feeling down.
This was fine, of course Zoey could just keep holding them together, no help needed!
She immediately felt a flood of guilt at the sarcastic thought. Zoey knew Rumi and Mira were trying their best, but she couldn’t help but feel like she was constantly putting out fires between them, making sure to keep everyone happy, to stay positive and cheery and Zoey, not rocking the boat with any of her own inconvenient feelings.
Still, she followed Rumi’s lead, shaking her head decisively, letting the sourness sink back into the pit it came from. It wasn’t easy, though, because her soulmates’ answers to every question seemed to make it spring back up.
How was progress going with the touch starvation? Great, of course, according to Mira. According to Zoey, they barely got in an hour of physical contact with her a day, hardly scratching the surface of the years of touch deprivation.
Was Rumi having any trouble with her alpha instincts because of the increased responsibility from a new person joining her pack, and an omega at that? No, Rumi was perfectly in control, she had no trouble with her alpha side. From Zoey’s perspective, the first half of that sentiment was true, but certainly not the second. Rumi’s perfect control was the trouble; she defaulted to strangling her instincts instead of accepting them.
And the real kicker: Did they need any guidance on dropping as Mira came off the suppressants? Completely unnecessary, in Mira’s opinion. The dropping was well in hand.
Zoey didn’t even need to really formulate her own thoughts on how that was false. It was obvious.
With every question her soulmates skirted, Rumi because of a commitment to handling everything herself, Mira because of a desire to avoid any more interference in her life, Zoey’s ugly irritation grew stronger.
Because of course, why did they need any help when Zoey was here to smooth over every argument, to somehow do anything to keep everyone content and happy with her?
Zoey knew the anger wasn’t entirely fair. She was the one who had appointed herself to be the mediator, the people pleaser. She was the one who was bottling her own feelings up to keep her pack together. Her soulmates couldn’t be expected to understand that it was taking a toll on her when she had never given them any indication she was struggling.
But she couldn’t bring herself to be honest with them, to risk being the thing that drove them apart instead of keeping them together. So she pushed it down, swallowing the bitterness, the frustration, the resentment, and putting it all with the rest: the sadness, the grief, the fear that there was something wrong with her that made her easy to leave and hard to love. A perfect graveyard for everything Zoey didn’t want to face.
Jihoon finished up his questions, his stylus finally slowing down. “Great, it seems like you’re doing as well as can be under these circumstances. Before I leave, I’d like to speak to Mira-ssi alone, if that’s alright.”
Zoey and Rumi both nodded without hesitation, moving to stand up. Before they could get far, Mira shot a hand out to latch onto Rumi’s wrist, holding it tightly to keep her in place. “I don’t mind if they’re here. There’s nothing you need to ask me that they can’t hear,” the omega said firmly.
Zoey looked at Mira’s face, trying to understand where the sudden attachedness came from. It was a second before she caught it, but there was a definite flicker of fear in Mira’s eyes, hidden with practiced apathy and surety. Fear of what exactly, Zoey wasn’t sure.
She had her suspicions, of course. She wasn’t an idiot.
Zoey knew someone had hurt Mira, hurt her badly. Maybe more than once. Maybe for years. She even had a guess about who, based not on what Mira had told them about her life, but what she hadn’t.
The question was, though, was Mira afraid to be alone with Jihoon because he was a large, intimidating man or because he was a social worker representing an institution that had already taken away her agency once?
That wasn’t what was important right now, though, of course. If Mira didn’t want them to leave, then they would stay right there. Rumi seemed to be in agreement, settling back down at the same time Zoey did. The beta’s heart clenched at the relieved breath Mira let out as she released her hold on Rumi’s arm. Zoey could see the indents of her fingernails from how tightly she had been squeezing.
Jihoon frowned slightly. “I understand that, Mira-ssi,” he said placatingly, like he was trying to calm a flighty animal, “but it is important that I ask you some questions in a situation that ensures you don’t feel any pressure from your mates to answer a certain way.”
That did make sense, Zoey had to admit that. It was exactly what she had expected his reasoning was for speaking to Mira alone, and in all honesty, she did want Mira to have the opportunity to speak to him freely even though she knew the taller woman almost certainly wouldn’t confide in him in any way.
“Will the result of this whole thing change if I don’t talk to you alone?” Mira asked after a long moment of silence, her arms crossed tightly across her chest protectively.
Jihoon sighed. “Given everything else I’ve seen today, I’m not going to assume there’s an issue just because you don’t want to talk to me alone, but it isn’t ideal. Would you be more comfortable speaking to someone else, maybe a female social worker, or an omega?”
He picked up his tablet again, tapping rapidly before scanning the screen. “We have in your file that you don’t seem very comfortable with alphas, so beta or omega caseworkers are preferred. I can update that if you would feel better talking to a woman. It’s very common for the omegas we work with to be wary of men, nothing to be ashamed of.” He smiled reassuringly.
Zoey winced. Jihoon clearly meant well but he was saying exactly the wrong thing. Mira most likely would feel better talking to a woman, but there was no way she would be willing to say that because it meant admitting that she was scared of him, or at least a bit wary. There seemed to be little that the dancer hated more than being seen as weak or in need of what she saw as coddling.
Just like Zoey expected, Mira scowled. “I don’t need that, I’m not scared of you,” she snapped, glaring at Jihoon so intensely that the beta was surprised he didn’t burst into flames. “Let’s talk.”
Rumi and Zoey stood up again, slowly in case Mira changed her mind. “We’ll be in our room if you need us,” Zoey told her gently, rubbing her tense shoulder as they moved to walk away. The omega just nodded, the flicker of fear returning to her eyes as she was left alone.
Zoey and Rumi were both silent until they reached their bedroom, Rumi shutting the door behind them with a quiet exhale. Zoey walked straight to the bed, throwing herself down on it so she was starfished in the center, stretched out as much as she could be. Her mate sat next to her, looking down at her with concern.
“How are you doing, Zo?” the alpha asked softly, stroking her hair.
Zoey wasn’t surprised by the question. She had caught the sideways glances Rumi was throwing her as her distress bled through their bond. The purple-haired woman had probably felt the ghost of every second of ugly frustration.
This was her chance to tell Rumi how she was feeling, how she was overwhelmed and scared and so goddamn sad, but she couldn’t force the words out of her mouth. She could already picture how Rumi’s face would fall as she realized she hadn’t noticed Zoey struggling, how she would put even more pressure on herself. How Zoey would become part of the problem instead of the one fixing it.
“I’m alright, baby,” Zoey heard herself say. “Just a bit tired today.”
Rumi frowned. “You were feeling pretty upset back there,” she murmured carefully. “I could feel it. You can tell me if something is wrong, Zo, I want you to know you can be honest with me. You don’t have to carry it all yourself.”
“That’s rich, coming from you,” Zoey snapped without thinking. She was immediately overcome by guilt when Rumi recoiled at the unexpected sharpness. “Sorry, sorry, I’m just… a bit on edge.”
Rumi nodded. She didn’t look hurt by the barb, just worried. “Do you feel like I’m not being honest with you?” she asked.
Zoey sighed. “I don’t necessarily feel like you are being honest with me,” she mumbled, picking at a loose thread in the comforter. “But mostly I meant carrying everything yourself. I can feel you building walls up again, Ru. Your scent is all over the place, cutting in and out whenever you start feeling too much. Mira can’t sense it yet, but I can, and I know you. You’re choking yourself trying to be what you think she needs.”
She sat up, forcing herself to look Rumi in the eye to drive home the importance of what she was saying. “But you know as well as I do that Mira is always paying attention, and she’s always trying to figure out what to expect from people. Do you really think she’s going to trust you when she notices you’re hiding part of yourself? That just makes you unpredictable, more dangerous, not safer.”
Rumi flinched at the words. “I just don’t want to scare her,” she admitted. “I know you always say that I shouldn’t fight against my instincts, but she looks at me like she’s waiting for me to snap. I can’t let that happen. I just need to keep a handle on things for a few weeks. No scenting, no growling, no overprotectiveness or possessiveness, no making my own issues her problem. That’s how I can take care of her, be an alpha that she doesn’t feel so petrified around.”
“You know it doesn’t work that way,” Zoey replied tiredly, closing her eyes and flopping back onto the bed. “You’re putting all this pressure on yourself, it’s going to make you crazy. Even Celine says that her ridiculous lessons on being the perfect respectful alpha were wrong. You’re just going to burn out, trying to hold it all yourself. You have to let Mira in if you expect her to ever do the same for you. I can’t force you to change your mind, but just think about it.”
Hypocrite, Zoey’s mind whispered. Maybe so, but she would keep them from falling apart if it killed her.
Rumi didn’t say anything, laying down next to Zoey and curling into her side in companionable silence. The beta wondered how Mira was doing, if she was scared, if she wanted them there. She was only a few walls away, but still, Zoey hated that they had to leave her alone when she wanted them with her for once.
—
Mira stared at Jihoon, eyes like steel against his stupid cheery smile. She did not care for him. Jisu had been annoying and certainly a bit patronizing, but this man looked at her like she was some sad little charity case, the poor, pitiful omega who needed constant doting. And on top of that, she kept catching whiffs of smoke from him, like he had been smoking before coming up, or been at a bonfire. The smell made her nose wrinkle, even though she didn’t usually hate the scent of smoke so much.
“Thank you for agreeing to speak with me, Mira-ssi,” Jihoon said, voice dripping in sickening sweetness. “I can tell you’re a bit uncomfortable, but we can do this fast.”
Mira glared harder, smirking internally when his smile faltered. Good.
“Right, um, first,” he began, clearing his throat, “have you ever felt unsafe here because of your soulmates’ behavior”
Felt unsafe? Of course she had, but it had little to do with her soulmates. Well, it did, but it wasn’t really about them. Mira felt unsafe if someone moved too fast or sneezed too loudly. Hell, Mira felt unsafe right now, across from this mountain of a man. She wished Rumi and Zoey were here, and she hated herself for wishing it.
“No,” she answered firmly, the lie falling off her tongue with ease.
Jihoon jotted down her answer with a nod. “Have your soulmates ever threatened to harm you?”
“No,” she repeated. That one was true, at least.
The rest of the questions were along the same vein, about if her soulmates withheld necessities for any reason, if they refused her physical contact or assistance with dropping, if they had coached her on what to say for today, and on and on and on.
After a while, Mira was barely paying attention, sure her eyes were glazed over with boredom.
“That’s it,” Jihoon said at last. Thank God. “Thank you for speaking to me, Mira-ssi, you did such a great job. I know it was scary, but you were very brave.” He smiled at her again, so fucking condescending it made her skin crawl.
“I’m not a child, Jihoon-ssi,” Mira replied icily, even as her stomach flipped at the knowledge she was on her own if he decided to retaliate against her attitude. “You don’t need to speak to me like one.”
He dropped the grin immediately. “That’s not what I intended to do. My apologies.”
She didn’t dignify that with a response, standing and walking over to her soulmates’ bedroom door to call them back out. Mira paid no attention to the social worker’s parting words, focusing on calming her racing heart and relaxing her locked up muscles. She hated that even after years, her father had so much power over her that she froze up at the sight of a man big enough to hurt her.
Finally, Jihoon was gone, leaving the apartment with a waved goodbye that Mira didn’t return.
“Well, I think that went well,” Rumi said, sounding more like she was discussing a business meeting than whatever the hell that had been.
Zoey snorted. “Yeah, sure. Hated his vibes though, absolutely rancid. He kept looking at Mira like she was the most tragic little Oliver Twist orphan he had ever seen.”
Mira let out a surprised chuckle that quickly turned into unstoppable, infectious laughter. “What-what the fuck is Oliver Twist?” she asked between gasping breaths.
“You know, the ‘please sir, may I have some more’ kid?” Zoey explained between her own peals of laughter, switching to English to act out the words in the most horrendous accent Mira had ever heard. Rumi rolled her eyes, but she was giggling right along with them.
Now, Mira’s parents had been insistent that she learn English. To them it was a mark of prestige, status, intelligence, or something else idiotic like that. Of course, this meant Mira had staunchly refused to do it, which she occasionally regretted. She didn’t expect to ever regret it because she didn’t know the old British novel that her half-American soulmate was trying to reference, but life works in mysterious ways.
After they calmed down, Rumi cleared her throat. “I took the day off work, do you guys wanna do something?” she asked hopefully, looking at Mira.
“Let’s go to the beach,” the omega blurted without thinking. “Hanagae Beach, it’s still early, we have time.”
Rumi checked her watch, chewing on her lip anxiously for a moment before nodding. “Yeah, I think that’ll work. Hopefully it won’t be too crowded since it’s a weekday.”
“Beach day!” Zoey exclaimed, throwing her hands up in the air excitedly. “I love the tidal flats, we can find some fun things when the water goes out.”
“You’ll have to tell us about them, Miss Marine Biologist,” she teased lightly, returning Zoey’s happy smile with a smaller one of her own.
The beach was lovely of course, though it was so hot Mira felt like she was melting. Still, she matched Zoey’s enthusiasm the best she could, paying careful attention to each crab and conch the beta pulled out of the sand once the tide receded.
The smell of the ocean was so lovely today, Mira thought to herself as they drove home. She kept leaning towards her soulmates, trying to catch the sea-breeze scent that still clung to them, bright and refreshing and somehow sweetly floral on her tongue. It felt like pure contentment, the smell, like the joy she could see on Rumi and Zoey’s faces that she was sure was mirrored on her own.
The scent clung to them even once they had returned, keeping Mira in a good mood for the rest of the evening. She slept like a baby that night for the first time since she had moved into the apartment, curled up, still chasing the traces of flowers and salt that had soaked into her hair.
The omega woke up late the next day, for her at least. She dragged herself out of bed and popped one of her painkillers, though the ache didn’t feel as intense today. Her routine continued as usual until she was face to face with her suppressants.
Mira knew she had put off lowering the dose again for long enough. She broke one of the pills in half, swallowing it dry. She was at a quarter of her normal dose, which meant things were soon going to get exponentially harder.
There was one last thing Mira debated with herself before she left her room to take on the day. She went into the bathroom, opening up the cabinet under the sink and reaching up until she found the small jar she had tucked away there. She set it on the counter, staring at the label like it would speak to her.
Mira wasn’t a stranger to scent blockers. Before she had gone on suppressants, she had used them for years. They weren’t harmful like suppressants were, didn’t do anything except neutralize pheromones as they left the body to, well, block the scent.
She had known it was a stupid purchase even when she bought it after leaving her first therapy session early. Zoey and Rumi would eventually get suspicious of the fact her scent wasn’t coming back, of course they would. But she just couldn’t fight the impulse. She could already feel the beginning of her scent’s return, earthy and cool.
Mira actually quite liked her own scent on a purely sensory level, bigheaded as it was to say. She thought it was like petrichor, the soil after rain when things were fresh and rich and alive. Maybe it wasn’t a sweet scent like omegas were expected to have, but Mira liked it much better than vanilla or honey or peonies or whatever else.
Eomeoni said she smelled like dirt, which was cruel, but not wrong. The older omega had been certain that Mira’s scent would alienate her, make others mock her to her face and behind her back. Her scent would drive people away from her, so it had to be hidden.
So foolish as it was, as much as she hated the power her mother still had over her, Mira dabbed a generous amount on her scent glands, massaging it into her skin to make sure it absorbed properly. She let out a relieved breath when the scent, her scent, dissipated into the air like it was never there.
The morning was quiet, Mira working on sewing a bandana for Derpy to give to her soulmates. She had found a cute blue fabric in her collection, and she could just imagine the huge striped tabby looking perfectly dapper in it. She still kept catching traces of the floral, sea salty scent, finding herself leaning towards it every time. It made something in her settle, a piece falling into place that she had barely known was… not missing, exactly, but maybe not where it should be.
She tried to keep her eyes firmly away from the polar bear plushie and the soft, dusty pink blanket on the couch, cursing herself for how a tiny, stupid part of her wanted to hold them tight to her chest. They had been there since Zoey had bought them, taunting her. Mira had ignored them, of course, diligently keeping from looking at them longer than a second, let alone touching them. She was stronger than any omega urge for softness.
Mira didn’t need stuffies or fuzzy blankets, even if they would probably feel so good against her skin, especially her constantly aching scent glands. She threw a quick glare at the polar bear for good measure, then felt guilty about it, then felt ridiculous for glaring at a stuffed toy, then felt even more ridiculous for feeling guilty for glaring at a stuffed toy.
Her musings were interrupted by Rumi’s phone buzzing loudly, telling them their food had arrived. They had decided to order Chinese food for lunch, since Zoey apparently ‘needed some noodles to power her super-sized songwriter brain.’
Zoey brought the food up quickly, setting it up at the counter, before nudging Rumi and whispering something Mira couldn’t quite hear. The alpha’s face pinked instantly as she choked on the water she was drinking, and she shoved a giggling Zoey gently before clearing her throat once her coughing died down.
“What?” Mira asked suspiciously, a sinking feeling they were discussing her sitting heavy in her chest.
“Nothing,” Rumi squeaked unconvincingly, Zoey not even trying to hide her chuckling beside her.
“Tell me,” Mira snapped. Her anxiety was rising rapidly. “I don’t like when people hide things from me.”
She knew she was overreacting, that it was most likely just something silly and inconsequential that might not even have to do with her. But still, Mira couldn’t stand not knowing.
Rumi seemed to realize how serious she was and elbowed Zoey, who quickly stopped laughing. “It was nothing important Mira, I swear. Zoey was just teasing me,” she explained with a glare towards the unrepentant beta, who just shrugged.
She continued on reluctantly when Mira just stared, arms crossed. “She said I should ask you to sit on my lap while we eat. I know that would be a lot for you, though, I wasn’t going to ask! She was just trying to fluster me because she-”
“Okay,” Mira cut Rumi off impulsively, driven more by a desire to prove her wrong than any actual thought. As soon as her brain caught up to what she was saying, she was filled with regret. As much as she loved to think she could handle anything, it really would be a lot for her to be sitting in Rumi’s lap all through lunch.
Still, if there was one thing about Mira, she refused to back down.
“What?” Rumi said, stunned. Her and Zoey’s matching expressions of shock were almost comical, and Mira fought back a chuckle of her own before digging herself deeper into the hole she had started. In for a penny, in for a pound, as they say.
“I said okay. I’ll sit on your lap during lunch. Good for the touch deprivation,” Mira repeated casually, feigning a nonchalance she knew wouldn’t last long.
Zoey’s look of disbelief shifted into a devious smirk as she looked back at Rumi, who was so red by now that it was nearly alarming. The alpha managed a rapid nod in reply, looking like she was hoping the ground would swallow her whole.
“Great,” Zoey said cheerfully. “Now that that’s settled, do you wanna eat at the real table? Might be comfier than the kitchen stools for this.” She was unabashedly gleeful, probably at the knowledge that both of her soulmates were about to be blushing messes for all of lunch, if Mira had to guess.
The omega cursed her defiant nature the entire way to the dining room. Why on earth did she say that?
Zoey plopped herself down at the table, gesturing expectantly for Rumi to sit across from her. Mira waited for the alpha to get settled before approaching slowly, trying to figure out if it would be better to sit sideways to reduce the amount of contact or face towards Zoey to make it easier to eat.
Zoey was blatantly staring as Mira debated with herself, while Rumi avoided looking at the omega with such dedication that she had her head tilted back so her eyes were trained awkwardly on the ceiling.
Finally, Mira decided to bite the bullet and dropped into Rumi’s lap facing Zoey, arms still crossed across her chest. Based on Zoey’s knowing smirk, it probably made Mira appear more like a pouty, petulant toddler than the intimidating badass look she was going for.
Rumi’s touch felt like stars bursting across Mira’s skin everywhere they made contact, that same buzzing sensation as always taking over her mind. She twitched involuntarily at the feeling, squirming a little in Rumi’s lap until the alpha wrapped an arm securely around her waist, pulling her back into stillness.
With her other arm, the alpha began to mechanically fill a plate with food before pushing it across the table to Zoey, who was waiting expectantly.Mira watched as Rumi filled another plate, moving it towards her before stopping as she realized what she was doing.
“Oh, sorry,” Rumi mumbled, breath hitting the back of Mira’s neck and making her shiver. “I always make a plate for Zoey, I guess I tried to do it for you by reflex. You can put back stuff, or take more, or just. You know, whatever you want,” the alpha trailed off awkwardly.
Mira nodded in response, putting back about a third of the food Rumi had given her. She felt the other woman tense up underneath her, arm tightening minutely against Mira’s waist, but thankfully she said nothing apart from exhaling slowly into Mira’s hair.
After the omega was done, Rumi finally filled a plate for herself, again waiting for them to begin eating before taking a bite herself. It was endearingly chivalrous, and made Mira’s heart flutter a little against her will. Rumi was so frustratingly difficult to dislike.
Mira used all of her focus just to try to eat her lunch. Her hands felt clumsy, fumbling with her chopsticks in a way she never had before. The only thing saving her from total humiliation was that Rumi seemed to be struggling just as much if not more than she was, nearly dropping her food every time Mira shifted. At least they were flustered together.
There was a fresh, floral scent blooming around them, distracting Mira even more from her attempts to eat without dropping her food all over herself. The omega tried to find a vase, a bouquet, a houseplant, but she couldn’t trace the scent back to anything except… wait. She really started paying attention, trying to understand the reason she was so affected.
Mira’s body started to wake up, the realization clicking in her mind. Suddenly the scent wasn’t just flowers; it was alpha and soulmate and comfort and content and what felt like-like love. It made her brain melt.
Well, shit. It looked like Mira’s ability to sense pheromones was back online.