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He jolted awake drenched in cold sweat, the echo of Rumi's heart-wrenching sobs stabbing him right through his heart.
Jinu heaved, breathing in deep and shaky as he fought to collect his wits. His hands in his lap glowed, lighting up the patterns scrawled over his skin, the proof of his eternal shame.
Rumi had called his patterns beautiful and kissed them countless times, but he was still learning to accept them. Like scars, they were not going to go away but, as Rumi had done, they could be accepted, transformed and not hidden away.
"Jinu?"
Guiltily, he turned to his sleepy girlfriend. "Sorry. Didn't mean to wake you."
"S'alright," Rumi slurred. "Bad dream?"
"Yeah. Go back to sleep, it's okay."
He hated that he couldn't be quiet enough dealing with his nightmares, hated that his shame and guilt kept returning to torment him and in turn, disturb Rumi's rest.
But Rumi wouldn't hear of him sleeping in another room. In those first few nights of his return, she had clung to him in bed like she was physically going to meld into him.
He suspected a part of it had to do with the fact he died right in front of her during the battle with Gwi-Ma; she had her own nightmares and his name would slip out inadvertently as she fought to save him over and over.
Rumi propped herself up now, grunting a little when her long hair got caught beneath her arm in the process. He had helped her undo the braids himself before bed, combing his fingers through her long violet locks as she sat back against his knee and hummed in pleasure.
"C'mere. Wanna talk about it?" she asked softly. She was never mad, never impatient, never annoyed, no matter the hour his nightmares woke her.
He wasn't sure how he had gotten so lucky to find someone so understanding.
"Not particularly..."
She hugged him and he caved—no, crumbled—as easily as flaky pastry.
"I hurt you," he mumbled, recalling the dream. "When you were shining like a star up on that stage. At your brightest, I...tore you down."
He squeezed his eyes shut as her sobs after her disastrous stage exposure returned to haunt him, clear and sharp as shattered glass.
"You did," she said simply. He appreciated that she didn't try to bullshit him or make excuses; although it stung, she was right.
The inevitable question bubbled up. "How can you even...want anything to do with a guy like me?"
"Because that's not all you are," Rumi said. She never neglected to remind him, even when he felt too ashamed to ask. Her measured response always floored him—so much radical goodness compressed into one girl who was battling her own demons, yet she still looked outward and reached out for a demon like him, with nothing but compassion in her eyes.
Sometimes, the shame overwhelmed and he was unable to meet her eye, so his gaze settled on her patterns instead; she was more relaxed about showing her skin nowadays (something he and the girls appreciated and encouraged). Rumi wore a tank top and sleep shorts (although she looked gorgeous even in a trash bag, he privately had a soft spot for those darn choo-choo train pants) and her skin was an artist's canvas with her demon patterns flowing and curving, spiralling all around her limbs, torso and face.
In the dim glow of the nightlight they had kept on every night since Jinu moved in like a beacon against the lurking shadows in the corners, her patterns shone silver, beautiful and luminous, affirming her words.
Because it's not all you are.
Jinu wanted to believe her, he wanted to believe her so badly. But the hooks underneath his skin snagged on his hope every single time he was reminded of how he had hurt and betrayed the people he was supposed to protect. His mother, his sister, Rumi...
Gwi-ma's voice may have disappeared, yet his words lingered, imprinted in his head.
But Rumi's voice was there too now, always ready to remind.
"Jinu, look at me. Remember, the past doesn't define you," she said now. "You have the capability to do good as much as you do bad. You helped me get my voice back, and you saved me when I was still living in shame and then you...protected me against Gwi-Ma."
It was Jinu's turn to wrap her up in a hug, tightening his hold when she trembled.
She had cried so much the night he had first held her, right in this bed.
"You're back. You're really here," she kept saying in disbelief, stroking over the planes of his cheekbones, watering his patterns with her tears as she hugged him. And he let her, because in that moment, all he felt was peace: he was home.
He wasn't entirely sure how he had returned, only that his soul had merged with her sword and when Gwi-Ma was banished away back to the hellish underworld he came from, Jinu found himself in a white empty place, neither hot nor cold, neither bright nor dark, following a voice that sounded just like Rumi.
He had followed the haunting voice, frantically trying to find her even though he yelled himself hoarse, when he came upon a blinding ball of light, no bigger than his fist, suspended in mid-air.
Rumi's voice emanated from the pulsing light and Jinu was instantly compelled to reach out and cup it in his hands. He felt no pain even as the ball of light melted into palms, lighting up his patterns.
And then in a blink, he had appeared in Huntr/x's penthouse apartment, bewildered as a newborn infant, startling the girls into hysterics.
Mira had almost lopped his head off with her gok-do hadn't Rumi screamed and charged straight into his arms, knocking him over like a bowling pin. He only had the wits to hold on tight and cry along with her.
He hadn't heard Gwi-Ma's voice ever since.
"I'm here. I'm not going anywhere," Jinu whispered when they pulled back from the hug. He cupped her face, stroking her cheek with his thumb and sighed. "I'm sorry for waking you. Let's sleep again."
"I need to be up in a couple hours anyway," Rumi shrugged after a quick phone check. She held his hand at her face. "Are you sure you're okay? Want to braid my hair?"
Jinu shook his head, grateful. Usually, when his trembling wouldn't easily subside, Rumi would offer for him to braid her hair as a way to keep his fingers busy. And they would talk, or quietly sing, a healing lullaby for the both of them. Rumi sometimes nodded off whilst he worked, giving him the opportunity to admire.
"I'm okay. Let's sleep for real."
"You don't want to braid my hair?" she pouted.
"Why, you want me to do it that much?"
"I wouldn't ask otherwise."
Jinu folded his arms. "And what happens if I say you need the sleep? You're the one needing to get up bright and early for studio shoots in a few hours."
Rumi mirrored him and crossed her arms, one eyebrow quirked in challenge. "I'll say, make me."
"Okay."
Rumi squealed as he tackled her down to her pillows, tickling her.
"How is this helping?" she exclaimed.
"You'll be too tired to argue and go straight to sleep," he explained, grinning as she fought to gain the upper hand but he had wisely straddled her, trapping her with no room to run as his fingers scrabbled at her sides.
Despite her slim appearance, she was quite strong, such that Jinu had to focus all his efforts on holding her down, which unfortunately left him a bit short on opportunities for witty quips.
Rumi writhed and batted his chest furiously in between helpless chortles..
"Stop stop, we'll wake the girls!" she gasped after letting out a particularly loud squeal.
"Sounds like a you problem," Jinu smirked. He dodged a swipe at his head.
"You're such a jerk sometimes!"
"At least our children aren't here," he teased further.
"Jinu!"
His demon familiars (adopted right away by the girls) wisely stayed out of the bedroom at night after the first couple awkward incidents but Jinu was proud of them for learning to read the room.
"Besides, it's all fair game," Jinu added, ducking his head as Rumi groaned in frustration when her hand flew past his face yet again. "I'm sure Zoey and Mira have their own...fun. I've heard...ahem, noises."
"Jinu!" Rumi squeaked, mortified. Zoey and Mira announcing they're a couple was a recent development that surprised nobody of their immediate circle but Rumi still seemed to need time getting around to the idea that her two members were fooling around and getting hot and heavy with each other. She probably entertained the idea of joining them.
Jinu would have felt jealous if he wasn't completely secure in the knowledge that he always had a place in Rumi's heart. Whatever else she wanted to dabble in on the side, he was all for her finally getting to explore with her chosen family.
"I yield I yield," Rumi huffed out finally and Jinu promptly withdrew his hands, grinning down upon his breathless girlfriend. But his thoughts instantly strayed away from her beauty to settle on the fact that he had forgotten all about his nightmare.
It happened all the time with Rumi: she made him hope, she made him believe he was good, that he was worthy of love but most of all, she helped him believe in a future where he—they—could be free: free of the past, free of shame, free of all-consuming regrets and remorse.
And they were making it happen, one day at a time.
"Gimbap for your thoughts?"
Jinu glanced down, smiling when their gazes locked. He fought the urge to coo when Rumi raised an eyebrow at him. In other times, he enjoyed teasing her about her obsession with gimbap but her question was too sincere to deride.
"You're so good for me," Jinu said quietly instead. "I hope I'm half as good for you too."
Rumi smiled shyly, eyes sparkling with a singular truth. "You are."
She opened her arms and he willingly sank into her embrace, being careful to brace himself on his arms so as not to squash her beneath him. But when she looped her arms behind his neck to hold him in place, Jinu gave in and covered her body with his own. He was still unused to the sensation of a warm body pressed up against his skin after centuries of impersonal cold numbness. He smiled now, remembering how the smallest movement made him jolt in those early days of contact, such as Rumi simply knocking the back of her hand against his, testing the waters.
"Jinu," Rumi whispered right next to his ear, longing laced behind each syllable.
Jinu pulled back enough to drink in the vision, her eyes half-lidded as she smiled up at him.
How did he get so lucky? What did he do to deserve her?
He returned the grin, growing suddenly bashful as well, which was silly all things considered: it was already three months since they were sleeping together.
(Zoey and Mira had pounced on Rumi and teased her mercilessly the first time they saw the marks at her throat when she had forgotten to cover up with foundation. Mira hadn't let him off the hook either, sparing a moment to give him the dirtiest stink-eye but he didn't mind—he liked to think she was warming up to him. The number of times she had threatened to stab him had gone from forty-seven a day to forty-six after three months).
Yet there were some things that he wasn't sure he'd get used to—like how indescribably lucky he was to find Rumi in the first place—but maybe that wasn't a bad thing.
Jinu kissed her, sliding his hands up underneath her shirt, stroking reverently. Rumi exhaled and opened up to him like a blossom in the rain, curving up against him. A quick pause to fumble for condoms in her drawer before he let it all escalate, smiling to hear her little giggles (the sound filled him with light) and then he was back, fitting against her like a magnet.
Mouth, neck, chest, stomach, hips—when their clothes lay discarded next to the bed and their bodies touched at every point, molten liquid and solid at the same time with patterns aglow, Jinu closed his eyes, savouring her scent as it engulfed him when her arms wrapped around his neck.
Safety and home, wrapped in one girl, his soulmate.
She had the power to disintegrate him with one look and he'd let her, but instead, she gave the reins over to him. But he never left her behind, making sure to take her hand and match the melody of her soft sighs as he moved inside her.
She was starlight incandescent while he was night, letting her glow wash over him whilst he worshipped her. She had noticed how he held back, often protested this set-up but for now, he wouldn't hear of taking more from her before she had her fill. He always waited patiently, watching her intently for the little tells of imminent relief before letting himself tip over the edge in her wake, like a waterfall cascading as they fell together, embracing so tightly.
Afterwards they lay side by side and he stroked the sweaty strands out of her face, heart skipping when she grinned back at him, flushed with silver streaks glowing.
"Ready to sleep now?" he asked.
"Think so," Rumi said but her eyes were soft as she hesitantly clasped their hands together, pulses still bounding. "Feeling better?"
Understanding dawned. "You didn't have to—"
"Wanted to," she mumbled bashfully as she curled up against him. He kissed the crown of her head and squeezed her close, fondness welling up in his chest.
"You know I love you, right?"
"I love you too," Rumi said. Her eyes fluttered shut. "Wake me up if you get another dream. I'll be here."
"Not tonight I won't," Jinu said confidently as he settled back and closed his eyes. "But thank you. I'm here too."
Rumi burrowed further against his side, making him smile contentedly.
Maybe there were some things he wasn't sure he'd get used to—Rumi's endless capacity for goodness, his return to mortal form, the fact he was now dating Rumi and nobody knew except Bobby, Zoey, Mira and after much hesitation from Jinu, Celine.
But falling asleep with Rumi cuddling up to him and the smallest seed of hope in his chest sprouting ever stronger?
Definitely could get used to that.