Chapter Text
Rumi has never felt stranger in her entire twenty-four years of living. It was like a weight that had been anchoring her down to the ocean floor had been lifted... but now she was just adrift, floating through a sea of something new, and uncertain and braver than she's ever been. Lost in a way she thought she knew but realizes now more than ever that she never did.
She looks at herself in the mirror now, exhausted in a multitude of ways she can't process at the moment, gazing at someone else. Herself but different.
She thought it would feel better than this. She hates that it does and that it doesn't. She trails her palm over her face, stopping midway just to stare at the back of her hand. Etched into her skin is the blight that she's been living with her entire life, curving and curling along her hand. Jagged stripes, no longer the dark angry purple that filled her with dread, but a faint pearlescence, faded but still there, now maybe forever.
It's been 3 days since they recreated the Honmoon and defeated Gwi-Ma. Defeat may still yet be a strong word, for all they know he's just back in the demon world, but what matters is that he isn't in the mortal world anymore. Three days' worth of PR management post idol awards with Bobby, three days' worth of apologies and tears and consolation with Zoey and Mira, three days' worth of guilt mixed frustration over Jinu, three days' worth of ignoring Celine's phone calls and texts... three days' worth of nightmares and her inability to handle the rapid-fire changes.
Every time Rumi looks at herself, she flinches before having to mentally force her eyes to gaze at herself in the mirror, every time she looks at her hands, she has to stop herself from digging her nails into the skin of her palm. And she hates it, because she thought she was fine now, she thought that she would be fine now. Hiding this part of herself, her patterns, her demonic heritage, was the problem. Forcing herself to suppress and ignore it was the problem. Lying to her girls about it was the problem. She's not doing any of that now, so why does she still barely stand the sight of herself?! Everything she sang in What It Sounds Like feels like a brick of hypocrisy that's weighing her down just like that anchor, dragging her further down into the depths of despair. She thought this would be easier now... loving herself. So why wasn't it? She knew she should tell the others about this, this storm of emotions and thoughts and fears, especially because she knows she's not doing a good job of bottling it up. Not anymore. Not with the way Mira's gaze is even more piercing, more discerning in regard to Rumi now, or how Zoey's own gaze has sharpened a little more now too, still kind and patient but watchful. Both catching every time she covers herself up still, a flash of something in their eyes, sadness... or maybe relief that they don't have to see them either?
Both gazing at her with knowing gazes every time she wakes up late because she couldn't sleep, because of the night terrors (flashes of purple flames consuming them whole, a kindred spirit she thought she could trust humiliating & using her the worst way possible, the people she loved more than life itself pointing weapons- begging Celine to-), both girls try to ease her into a conversation about them, offer her an opening, but old habits never die and Rumi locks the dark tides of herself behind a steel wall. She knows she should tell them... but it's so hard. And it's not like they've actually talked about everything either. They've had emotional rushed and quickly accepted apologies, slow and methodic explanations, and promises to tell each other everything. But that was it. They hadn't spoken about the other stuff, the stuff that made Rumi want to crawl away and curl up somewhere, they hadn't really spoken much on Rumi's patterns and what that means for them all either, mainly because Rumi wasn't ready to. With all of that in mind, with all of that weighing her down, holding her back? She can't find a way to push forward and talk to them about it. ... or maybe that was her being a coward.
All she knows is that she hates that she can't talk to them, she hates that she's already ruining the reborn trust they've placed in her. 'Promises of telling eachother everything'... too bad Rumi was a porcelain doll with a liar's heart. She's shattering at her seams, and she still can't tell her truth. So much for her voice without the lies. She presses both of her palms hard into her face, digs her nails into her forehead only a fraction to feel the pinprick pressure. She inhales shakily, before exhaling even more tremulously. Bracing herself against the sink, she avoids the mirrors judgmental gaze and turns around only to startle a little at seeing the door open. Rumi watches Zoey's eyes widen as they lock on her own, the younger girl startling back a little as well. Her cheeks flare red in embarrassment and she sputters.
"Oh! Sorry, Rumi! I totally didn't realize you were still in here; the door wasn't locked- I totally should've still checked-"
Rumi feels something inside her chest unwind slightly at the girl's apology, she offers a smile - small and tired, but real as she politely interrupts, "you're fine Zo, I was just taking a moment."
Something in Zoey's eyes shifts, her rambling apology halted replaced instead with something quieter, softer, tilting her head a little to the side cutely, as she slowly almost tentatively says, "...is everything okay? Wanna talk about it?"
Yes, no, yes.
All I want to do is talk about it but that's the last thing I want at the same time. How do I talk to you and Mira about it when I don't even really know what's wrong? How do I tell you guys I've been lying again and not have you look at me the way you did that night?
Rumi let's out a shaky sigh, her hand clenching at her side before slipping into her hoodie pockets. Zoey's eyes dart down to watch the action before flicking them back up to her gaze, and it's so reminiscent of Mira that, despite it all, it cracks another small smile on Rumi's face.
Rumi shrugs and shakes her head slightly, "it's nothing massive" liar, liar, liar, liar "just spacing out, don't worry-"
To her surprise, before she can continue with her excuse, her shrouding of the truth, Zoey cuts her off.
"Rumi, please stop."
The younger girls voice is shaky but firm, firmer than Rumi expected it would be and it shocked her. "Z-Zoey, I promise I'm fine-"
A firmer interruption shatters the sentence leaving her lips once more, "no, Rumi."
The frown on her face looked so foreign, the furrow of her brow making the freckles along the bridge of her nose stand out. For the other girl to demand her attention like this, for her to confront Rumi like this, it must be taking everything in her, fighting against her own instincts and inclinations of keeping the peace. Rumi has simultaneously never been more terrified of a conversation and never been prouder of her girl.
Zoey continues eyes skating from the red marks on Rumi's forehead down to her eyes once more, "w-we've tried to be patient, we've tried to give you space to work it out on your own. But we know something is wrong... and it hasn't gotten any better or easier on you... Please, just-"
She looks at a loss for words for a moment, the distress, the concern clear in the way her eyes threatened to build tears. Rumi hates this, hates that she caused this ... again.
Zoey's voice trembles, "Just come with me, so we can talk. W-we're not angry or upset or anything else" you should be, Rumi can't help but think. "We're just worried."
Zoey reaches her hand out, trembling and uncertain, like Rumi will reject her, like Rumi doesn't want to touch her. Rumi's hand dug her nails deeper into her palm at how much she felt the opposite. She was going to back away, run away like she had all her life. But her eyes catch Zoey's again, and her maknae's eyes glisten with tears and her hand shakes mid-air still reaching for Rumi.
"Please Rumi...? If not for you... for me and Mira?"
If there was one thing Rumi is still and will forever be sure about herself, it's that she will always reach out to help her girls when they need her or ask her to. For them? Always.
She feels like someone cut her strings - or her chains - and her tense shoulders slacken, not in relief but in resignation, one hand sliding out from her hoodie pocket to slide and interlock fingers with Zoey's. Zoey's grip was trembling and crushing, like she's afraid Rumi will disappear or float away, she might have if the younger girl wasn't here. Rumi doesn't say anything, can't, so she just nods as the other girl gives her a nervous upward quirk of her own lips in response. And they leave the bathroom, one of many in the penthouse, Rumi blindly following Zoey like a dog being led on a leash. Knowing exactly where they were going, and who else they're going to see when they get there. If Zoey's surprising forwardness was the result of Rumi's three day poor attempt at concealing and not feeling, then she can only imagine how her conversations with Mira will go.
Rumi's lungs choked on the air she shakily brought into them, her grip tightening on Zoey's hand - painfully careful, and terrified in how careful she has to be, to not be too tight, too monstrous - as they make it out of the hallway into the branching open area of the penthouse. Even with everything they had adorning the room - the food that she had left on the table from the dinner she couldn't finish moved to the kitchen to be cleaned later on, the flatscreen in the living area mutely playing some American sitcom Zoey had originally put on to no doubt drown out the echoes of unspoken words... and Rumi's already rebroken promises. Even with all of that, it was like it all faded to nothing when her eyes caught the vibrant and beautiful pink hair of Mira, sitting turned away from them on the couch. Looking as alone as Rumi had felt in the bathroom, it all but shatters her to pieces. Mira should never have to feel like that. Never. Rumi had promised her she wouldn't, way back when, as long as Rumi was there... more empty oaths.
But this one, instead of leaving her feeling hollow, it leaves her angrier than she's ever been with herself. She delicately but swiftly pulls her hand out of Zoey's hold as they get closer to the couch, pulling her arms to her chest to cross over it, digging her nails into her forearms. She didn't deserve the comforting warmth of Zoey's hand in her own, she did this to them both after all, couldn't get over herself once again and shrouded their happiness in her misery. Zoey stops as Rumi keeps walking forward, and maybe if Rumi had turned to face her, she would've seen the heartache plastered across the younger girl's face at the action.
But she didn't turn around, she punished herself and kept moving.
As she got closer, Mira didn't move, which was strange. Asides from Rumi, Mira is the most alert member of their group, constantly vigil, always ready to act if she needed to. Their stalwart guardian in fanmeets and red-carpet events, their polearm and shield in battle with demons, their loving caretaker when ill or sad. She was their fierce protector. But here, she sat still, elbows pressing into her thighs and head in her hands, and unlike Rumi earlier, her hands were rubbing a circular motion into the sides of her head, an attempt to ease, an attempt to calm. One knee bouncing to a frantic dancers beat that only she knew, and Rumi digs her nails further into her patterns. Mira hadn't needed to self soothe this bad since their early days together, the wounds her family laid on her soul still fresh and barely scabbing over. She was so out of it that Rumi was able to make it all the way infront of her without her even reacting or noticing. A feat that rarely ever happened, even with Rumi's stealth training in action.
Rumi stood there silent, awkward and emotional and not at all actually ready to confront any of this, unable to bring Mira's attention to her. But when Zoey quietly glides by her, gently brushing against the side of her crossed arms, to slowly sit beside an almost catatonic Mira, it was the slow and gently drag of her fingers along the other girls bouncing knee that jolts her back to the present. Rumi watches as Mira's eyes, sans her glasses, snap to Zoey. Her shoulders high and taut, before easing down in recognition. Zoey offers the other girl a small smile as their eyes stay locked, a million words said but never aloud, and Rumi, like an affection starved fool, feels a small well of jealousy boil in her chest. It was always so easy for them, they were so close, they understood eachother in a way that others couldn't, can communicate in a way that others can't, that she couldn't. But then she grit her teeth and she reminds herself she could've had that too, could've had it for years. And it was her own damn fault that she doesn't.
Zoey eventually ends whatever silent conversation the two had been having by nodding in Rumi's direction, and she can't help the way it makes her dig her nails deeper and squeeze her arms around herself tighter. Mira's eyes trail to her slowly, as if she's not sure that Rumi will be real if she does look her way, Rumi doesn't feel very real to herself nowadays. When their eyes meet its like a simultaneous cataclysm of emotions flit over Mira's face.
Mira's never been one to be super open with her emotions visually, often liking keeping people other than Zoey or Rumi on their toes, but this? Fear morphed into relief which turned to concern which fluctuated into frustration before eventually falling into a deep sadness. All in the way she furrows her brow and pursed her lips. It made Rumi want, she wanted so bad, to do anything to fix this. So without being told anything this time, without a word being said, she sat down on the couch. A sizeable distance between her and them, it felt uncrossable, it felt empty and cold. Like her heart.
Home is where the heart is she supposes.
Moments pass, no one speaks. She can't tell if they're waiting for her to be the one to break the silence or if they just don't know what to say, and she kind of wants the couch to swallow her whole if only to avoid the heaviness the silence lays on her shoulders.
"...You didn't finish dinner." Mira's voice was low and raspy, she hadn't spoken very much tonight even before this, but it was also a level of monotone that made Rumi wince. It reminded her of their talk before the idol awards.
The other girl continued, "Did... did you want some more of it?"
Rumi blinks, and blinks some more, and before she knows it she's blinking away tears. She doesn't know if it's the fact that it was such a simple genuine question, or if it's the sole fact that the first thing Mira thought to ask, to say, was to make sure she was taken care of. Whatever the reason, it caused a few scant tears to overflow and trail down her cheeks silently, as she shook her head unable to speak. Blurrily, she sees Mira nod slow, watches as she takes a deep shaky breath, it rattled like Rumi's own earlier. She watches as Zoey slips her hand into Mira's trembling one beside her, otherwise quiet and still in a way that had Rumi also thinking of her sad eyes during their talk before the idol awards.
Mira squeezes Zoey's hand tight, without the inherent fear of ruining the skin of that hand that Rumi felt every moment of every day now, and Mira takes another second before speaking again.
"Rumi... I'm trying really, really hard, I've been trying, to be patient, and calm, a-and not to be pissed at you for hiding away from us again."
Rumi winced, more tears slipping down her cheeks as she curls into herself a little more.
"B-because I get it. Y-you're probably reeling through a lot or whatever-"
Rumi unfurls herself, sniffling only slightly now as she frowns at the way Mira's breathing increases, she watches as Zoey's eyes widen a little, her hand going pale at where Mira is squeezing and she squeezes back.
"-But you're not eating, you're not sleeping and now y-you're isolating a-and hurting-" She shakes her head hard and quick, Zoey reaches her other hand out to rest on her shoulder, squeezing and rubbing her thumb into it in circles, trying to ease her down.
Rumi's heart begged to do the same.
She sat frozen as Mira continued working herself up, her breathing not slowing, "a-and I get it, I do... I mean why would you want to even be around me after everything let alone talk to me, I-I wouldn't even give me the time of day, but-"
Rumi's body straightened suddenly, "wait...what?"
Mira gasps for air after Rumi unceremoniously interrupts her, and where Rumi was hit with a realization that felt like ice water running down her back, Zoey looked like she had just watched a puppy get run over at Mira's statement.
Zoey sniffles, "Mira, we... we talked about that already remember? It wasn't..." As she spoke, she trailed off, seemingly unable to finish.
Zoey looked away from them both and it looked like a weight was attached to her neck with the way she hung her head. Rumi's eyes bounced back and forth between them both, her arms uncrossing, her forearms stinging underneath her hoodie. This isn't what she expected, she was ready for their vitriol, she was ready for their pity, she was ready for them to reject her once more at the unveiling of her undying cowardice... she wasn't prepared for this... this fog of remorse. Like many things Rumi isn't prepared for, which to be honest wasn't many, she was thrown off her footing, left to flounder over what to do. Rumi, her head still swiveling between them both, Mira's bloodshot eyes gazing at and through her and Zoey's head hung lower than it's ever been before, almost chokes on her words.
"You...Zoey's right, we talked about-"
The worst night of her life, that moment it all fell to pieces, the Honmoon, their band, her life, her heart. That night the two people whom she trusted more than she ever did herself looked at her and only saw a monster.
Rumi huffs anxiously, "-that night, I-I understood why you did... what you did. I forgave you."
Zoey's soft muttering interrupts her, her head hung low and still she echoes louder than anything else in the room, "just because you forgave us Rumi...doesn't make it right."
Mira quickly adds on, low and serious, and so, so upset. "And it doesn't mean I forgive myself yet..."
Zoey nods along to that. Rumi's hands tremble as she presses them into the couch, reeling at what to do or what to say.
Zoey, luckily, speaks before she does, "Mira's right, Rumi, we understand if there are some problems with talking to us at the moment. But we're really worried, and we don't want anything bad to happen to you again, or ever... we want you to know that we're here, that we'll always be here, and we know it'll be hard. But if you give us a chance…"
Mira straightens up again, eyes still red, but steady as they stare at Rumi. Her hand still interlocked tight with Zoey's, squeezing in gentle pulses as opposed to the death grip prior. "If you give us the chance, I'll- we'll spend the rest of our lives trying to prove that to you."
They're both looking at her now, but she can't see them.
Her eyes cloud with tears that fall heavier and faster down her cheeks, and it's all too much, her feelings, theirs, and the heartache and the pain and the loneliness and the heaviness of everything about her now, and she can't help it… she breaks.
She sobs, ugly and body shaking, her body gasps for air as she cries like she hasn't in years. She feels warm, warmer than the hoodie should make her, but beyond that feeling all she feels is release as she falls forward, her sobs bouncing off of the walls. She feels two bodies collide into and wrap around her, but she just cries, and cries, and cries.
She cries for her mother, the woman who loved monsters that haunted Rumi's life. She cries for Celine, the woman who loved Rumi enough to hate part of her and taught her to in turn. She cries for Jinu, a man and a demon, who cared about her and didn't, whose selfishness included saving her life. She cries for Mira and Zoey, the two women she always believed even when told otherwise would have her back, and they did, but in the worst possible moment they hadn't. She cries for herself, for the little girl who only ever wanted to help the world, sing her songs, cuddle her teddy bears, and be with her CeCe.
For the teenage girl who worked herself to the bone day and night, who strove for perfection and berated herself for anything less, who needed to honor those who came before her, who had forsaken herself for the future freedom of gold.
For the woman who hated herself for being born, who silently begged to be seen and cared for no matter what people would see, who never wanted anyone to see the sin that she is, never see the damnation that curls along her skin, who nearly killed herself trying to cleanse it just so she could be loved.
She cries, and cries, and cries.
She didn't know how long for, didn't really care either, but when the tears finally slow, and her breathing shallows, she slumps forward in the arms that still bracket her. She looks up, her eyes hurting and red, but instead of being met with the other girls' eyes they're gazing downwards. Sluggish due to her breakdown and confused on what's drawing their eyes, she slowly follows their gazes, and all she could do was gasp. Her patterns are glowing brighter than they had that night, neither the demonic purple nor the quiet ever-present opalescent, but a pale blue.
Her patterns were blue. What the hell?
She pulls back from the others, spreading her fingers out wide as she watches the blue pulse within her patterns for a few beats, before it slowly fades out and eases back into the resting silver-pearlescence that was her new normal.
"You glow now...?" Mira bluntly questions, her voice quiet, not accusatory just curious and a little something else.
But it made Rumi pull her hands back to her chest, or at least attempt to, Zoey manages to intercept one by gently but swiftly grasping her wrist. The breath left Rumi's lungs at the unadulterated awe in Zoey's eyes. Rumi gasps again as the other girl rubs a gentle line down one of the marks with soft swipes of her thumb. The sound cracked through the air like the whimper of frightened animal, and it jolted Zoey and her kind touch away, her cheeks red. Zoey mumbles out a quick 'sorry!' while Rumi collects herself, her skin covered in goosebumps.
Mira takes that moment to speak, "...How are you feeling? You know... after that?"
Rumi couldn't stop the self-deprecating laugh she let out, pulling a hand to rub down her face, at the question. "Honestly...awful." She lets out a soft breath, looking at them both, their own eyes puffy and red. They had been crying with her... "But good at the same time... I think I needed it, I guess."
She takes a deep breath, steadier than earlier, and reaches out to them and they don't hesitate in taking both her hands.
"I'm going to try" She put emphasis on the word, "and start this... so, and I know it will be tough, but please don't interrupt, okay?"
She looks at them both imploringly, desperate for them to know she's going to try but it's hard and if she gets interrupted, she'll lose whatever infinitesimally small ounce of courage she has. Their eyes are big and soft and sad and worried, but they both nod, decidedly silent as they squeeze her hands.
Rumi exhales, "First off... there is no one on this planet, in this universe, that I trust more than you two."
Celine's absence in that sentence stung her more than she thought it would, like picking at a fresh wound, her adoptive mother's exclusion not out of malice but out of painful sorrow, Rumi's own shame. She wondered if it echoed as loudly to the others, judging by Mira's eyes widening only marginally, it had with her.
"And I'm sorry I've been pulling away...again. But it wasn't because I don't trust you, or because I don't want to be near you, that couldn't be further from the truth! And look I'm not going to say i-it didn't kill me to see you so terri- scared of me. But like I said when we talked about it last time... I understood why." She feels their hands tremble, or maybe that was her own, either way she holds on tighter, trying to anchor herself with something better.
"That isn't why I've been... worse off recently. Well, not fully anyway. I'm sorry I didn't talk about any of this earlier, I just- I didn't- I don't know how to really talk about it..." She slumps a little, her vigor and courage fading, her words faltering like she feared they would.
Suddenly, her hands are empty, she almost whimpers at the loss, her hands reaching out to grab them back. Only to feel a shift on both sides of her on the couch, two bodies pressing against her, one pair of arms curling around her hoodie covered bicep on one side, on the other side fingers weave back into place with Rumi's and sharp features rest against her shoulder.
Zoey speaks first, her face squished against Rumi's forearm, "That's okay Rumi, start small... just say whatever is on your mind."
She feels Mira nod against the crook of her neck, her hair tickling the skin there, "yeah Ru... we'll be here for whatever it is. We're here for whatever you need or don't need, for whatever you say or can't say."
She spoke so gently, so earnestly, that it took a moment for the words to register. Mira you goddamn softie. Rumi's own words from years ago, it felt like eons ago, used against her. Something inside her unwinds, whether it be from the radiating comfort she feels on both sides, or the assurances themselves, she isn't sure.
But she speaks, her gaze aimed out the window, looking at the city as it shines under the night sky. She's never heard herself sound so small before, not even when everything happened.
"D-do you have any idea what it's like? ...To hate the body, you live in?"
She feels them both tighten their grips on her, but they stay quiet once more. Letting her have this. "To live in constant anguish...because you were born wrong? To know you exist as the very thing you grew up being taught, being raised, being trained to despise?"
She hears the quiet intake of breath, but she doesn't stop. She can't now.
"For so long all I've ever wanted was to be normal, to not feel like that anymore... to be able to just exist and not feel like I was a mistake for doing so... but now I'm...this."
She moves her arms, she feels the girls move back but not far, and tentatively, afraid to do so, Rumi sheds her hoodie, revealing her crop top underneath, now stuck gazing at the curled jagged pearlescent white that painted every inch of her skin.
"I'm different... I'm more me than I've ever been in my entire life... but these..." She raises her arms in front of her, away from her. "They still represent everything that I hated about myself, everything that's- that I thought was wrong with me. And I just... how am I supposed to really love and accept myself, if all I can think about when I look in the mirror is how much of me is wrong for trying to."
She breathes, her chest lighter, surprised she didn't crack into a million pieces after all of that. A little proud for feeling fine if she did. Safe knowing that she had people there to help her pick up the pieces.
With an honestly exhausted sigh, her moves to rest her arms on her thighs, only for a sense of deja vu to wash over her as Zoey's small hand gently takes her wrist into her palm, pulling it to her. Before she can even sputter out a response, she feels the light trailing touch of Mira also carefully grasping Rumi's other arm by her wrist, gently tugging it towards her as well. She feels her patterns flare a little, warm and buzzing, only faintly glowing not the same bright shine as earlier. Jeez calm down Rumi. She was going to say something or even just laugh a little awkwardly at the actions, only to startle in place as she feels a faint touch on the wrist being held in Zoey's hand.
Did she just ... nuzzle her wrist?
Rumi feels herself flush, as Zoey trails the gentle pressure of her nose up and down her wrist and forearm, her lips just brushing against her skin, it flusters her so much that it takes a moment for her to realize that she's following a trail. One of her patterns. Her eyes widen and she gapes a little, but before she could speak, once again, she's stopped as Mira pulls Rumi's hand up to her face.
Mira's breath ghosts against the skin of her palm as she speaks, "do you know what else these represent, Rumi?"
She's so overwhelmed by their touch, the static-like feeling it leaves along her skin. The way it causes her soul to resonate; to sing out, she barely manages a shake of her head as she stares gobsmacked at them both. Mira let's out a low amused chuckle, her fingers leading a soft path of touches along an intersecting pattern near her elbow, Zoey giggles as she mimics the move along Rumi's palm when she pulls back from it. Rumi already misses the warm puff of her breath bathing her wrist.
"You, Ru." The younger girl says kindly, genuinely, her fingers tickling Rumi's skin and warming her patterns.
"They're the bravery you showed that night, and every day we've known you." She moves her hand along the patterns of Rumi's bicep, as Mira on her other side rubs her thumb along the patterns curling through her knuckles as Zoey continues, her voice a little more serious now but still soft. "They're the burden you've carried in silence for years, never asking for anyone to soothe it for you."
They're both rubbing the markings along her hands now, soothing and so, so gentle, it makes Rumi want to cry again. All of this does. Mira pipes up this time, moving her hand, it trembles only slightly as it passes through the air, tentatively towards Rumi's stomach. Her eyes look up at her in question. Rumi feels the pulse under skin of her patterns beginning to glow brighter again, but she doesn't look at them, too enthralled by the women beside her. She gulps and nods slightly. Mira's hand feels so warm against her abs, trailing along the edges of each one, following the patterns that start and stop across them.
Mira's voice is quiet, but strong with conviction, "they represent your strength that you don't even think you have..."
She leans in, and Rumi gasps quietly at how close she gets, their noses almost touching, Rumi exhales shakily as Mira instead moves to rest her cheek back on Rumi's shoulder. "Because you do. You're so strong Rumi. You've always..." Mira chuckles out a shaky vulnerable breath, "...Always inspired me. Even if it pissed me off how perfect you always were."
Rumi laughs tearily at that, "I'm not-"
Mira grips Rumi's waist and she feels herself short circuit at the skin on skin contact as the other girl continues, "You're right. You're not. You're just as fucked up as the rest of us but trust me... it takes a lot to be able to admit what you did. And even more strength to still want to be who you want to be, in spite of anyone and everything telling you otherwise."
Mira leans back a little to smirk at her warmly, Rumi couldn't help but admire the sparkle of her eyes.
The care interwoven with something else in her eyes broadcasting louder than Rumi has seen Mira showcase anything prior, or maybe she's just been so busy trying to hide from them that she never saw it before. Zoey shifts beside her, and she makes a soft noise immediately snatching Rumi's attention. Like Mira before, Zoey with a little tentative smile has a hand hovering over Rumi's chest, resting just above her heart, and it beats faster at the idea. Rumi catches the way the patterns along her neck as she looks down glow brighter and brighter the longer this goes on. And she feels her cheeks heat up at the fact that her patterns are now flashing like a disco ball, flickering between a brighter silver-pearleascence, an ironically perfect and warm gold, before pulsing a bright pale pink. Rumi doesn't even have the brain capacity to focus on what they could mean, even if she wanted to, so she looks at Zoey's pretty round eyes and nods. Focus on them Rumi.
It's very hard to do when Zoey finally lays her hand against her chest, her heart, and it feels like its trying to beat its way past her ribcage out her chest just so it can feel Zoey's touch.
What is going on with her?!
Zoey doesn't move her hand from its place, no doubt trying not to break a boundary, but she does push a gentle pressure against where her hand sits.
The younger girl smiles and hums happily, but her eyes are considerate almost melancholic. "...they also show us that you're still here. Still with us. This glow…." Her other hand reaches up to stroke along a pattern on Rumi's wrist, and said glow brightens in response - a pale pink and gold swirl. "It tells us that you're still here. You're still thinking, feeling, breathing."
Zoey giggles a little as they pulse again, before sobering and gazing deep into Rumi's eyes, who has to fight to not break eye contact now, "still trying. Trying every day to be here with us, to be true to yourself, and be who you want to be."
Zoey smiles brighter now and moves a little more to the side to nudge her forehead against the side of Rumi's. "And who you want to be, and who you are... are so, so beautiful, Rumi."
Rumi chokes on a sob she tries to hold back, her heart beating faster and her eyes welling with more tears.
Mira copies Zoey's movement and intertwines the fingers of one hand with Zoey's that lays upon her heart, while her other holds onto Rumi's near their laps. Her own forehead nudges the other side of Rumi's face, her longer nose brushing Rumi's cheek.
Mira continues where Zoey finished, "these may take some time for you to get used to, and we'll be there every step of the way for that... but one day I hope you realize that they're just another part of you that proves how amazing you are. Because they are... you are."
Rumi shocks still as it feels like Mira's lips brush against her cheek, but no, Rumi's just freaking out, because it's just Mira speaking, yep. No way Mira would kiss her cheek. No way.
Mira hums gentle and quiet against her cheek, "they're a part of you Ru, and we love you...." Rumi inhales quietly, but Mira corrects Rumi's misunderstanding, stammering slightly. "...e-every part of you. Because it's all you."
Rumi feels her body tremble as more sobs break through, the darkness in the room being blasted away by the silver-pink-gold light she's emitting, by the utter and all-consuming love she feels for these two women. They're her everything... and she's starting to really believe they think the same of her. Even as she cries more, she pulls them closer to her, needing them closer, allowing herself to have them closer. And they fall into her embrace like it's the easiest thing in the world, like they were waiting for her all along.
They squeeze eachother tight and ultimately end up crying together, and yet Rumi feels lighter than she ever has in the past three days, no, her whole life. Mira was right, her journey of self-acceptance will take a long while yet, but if she takes it one day at a time... she'll find her equilibrium. Especially if she takes those baby steps with her girls. Her best friends in the whole world, what did she do to deserve them?
Zoey giggles snotty and teary but bright, and god Rumi loves the sound even if it is a little gross, "Okay, okay, if we all feel a little better, how does late night movie night sound?"
The younger girl immediately but carefully pulls out of their curled-up couch hug and bounces to the balls of her feet to hunt for the remote that got lost in the midst of the chaos.
Rumi goes to try and help her find it, but Mira just tugs her back, and with an 'ooft' Rumi is pressed into Mira's chest, Rumi's bare skin below her crop top presses against Mira's own. Mira wraps both arms around her and Rumi pouts as the other girl plops her chin on Rumi's head, holding her close.
Mira chuckles lowly, with faux seriousness, "Nope, sorry Princess, but you're on sit still and look pretty duty."
Rumi feels her patterns brighten up at hearing that old nickname, and she huffs a little, but before she can argue, Zoey on the other side of the couch giggles as she digs into their precious couch to hunt for the missing remote.
"That won't be very hard for her, she's the prettiest princess after all!" She teases Rumi with a quick wink, before continuing her hunt.
Rumi feels her cheeks redden, tucking herself further into Mira's arms and sighs as the other two girls laugh at her reaction. Yeah, sure, she still has more she needs to tell them... Celine weighs heavily on her mind after all and they need and deserve to know about that, but like they said, she should take it one step at a time. Let them all have the rest of the night to just bask in each other, in this new normal together.
Besides as long as she had her two girls, her best friends, she could take on anything, especially her own demons.