Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Rumi felt like a poorly bound god, barely contained inside of her physical visage, as the lights went out and the roar of the crowd still resounded throughout the arena. In her sight, the Honmoon wasn’t rippling so much as it was churning, the ground beneath her feet pulsing and sending it up into her flesh and making it sing.

Every breath, every firing of her nerves inside of her body as she headed to the wings, echoed out into the universe and allowed it to sing back. And it did, god it did, something desperate for Rumi to not simply harmonise with, but conduct.

The moment the three of them were backstage, surrounded by their crew and Bobby chattering proudly as he went over numbers, Rumi’s focus was completely lost. Her manager’s voice was a muffled murmur, as if through churning water instead of directly at her left shoulder, and it was only muscle memory that had her nodding at the right moments and waving with a beaming smile when he escorted them to their limo and went on his own way.

Crowds still flooded the streets around the stadium as fans left in a constant stream, filling taxis and pouring towards the closest metro with loud voices and still waving their lightsticks. It was a chaotic river, traffic forced to slow to a crawl, and Rumi was finding it hard to keep her breathing slow as the minutes dragged on.

A hand suddenly on her knee had her jump, snapping back to herself and looking over to where Mira had a raised eyebrow and an amused smirk in the corner of her painted lips. “You’re rocking the entire car. Jesus.”

Rumi flushed with embarrassment, immediately stopping in the bouncing of her leg she hadn’t even realised she was doing, and gave a sheepish shrug. “Just still riding the high, I guess. That was a good show.”

A high-pitched hum of agreement from Zoey, sitting across from her in the limo and gulping from an energy drink, had Rumi’s eyes sparkle and Mira laugh at the two of them. Zoey was practically vibrating in place, her eyes wide and pupils blown, and she swallowed her drink with an exaggerated sigh and crumpled the can.

“It was a great one! God, I could take on the world. We should have done another encore.” Zoey snapped her fingers with an excited gasp, grinning widely. “We should totally start doing two encores! Like, we wait until people are just pulling on jackets and getting ready to go, then bam! We-”

“Woah now! Ease up.” Mira snorted, extending a leg and kicking Zoey’s foot with a smirk. “You’re both going to crash any second now, and I am not carrying your asses upstairs. So save at least a bit of pep.”

Zoey pouted, but acquiesced, saluting with a harrumph and flopping back. But underneath the shorter girl’s performance high, Rumi could see the telltale signs of Zoey’s brewing exhaustion; the way her shoulders were slumped, her lipstick already pretty much entirely gone from distractedly biting and chewing her bottom lip, and she was blinking slower and more often.

It was almost a certainty that one of the others would have to carry her from the car to the elevator, where she’d perk up again in a final swan song that’s sole purpose was to carry her through getting into her pajamas and flopping onto their couch.

Rumi was willing to bet it was going to be her, especially as Mira’s head slumped onto her shoulder as Mira’s own high faded and she took advantage of the drive home for a quick nap.

But for Rumi, the crash wasn’t going to come. The high wasn’t going to fade anytime soon. Instead it settled beneath her soul in a pulsing current, churning waters of what was meant to be a serene pond, and had her twitching and alive to such a degree that she felt trapped within her own skin. As if the show had left her larger than the containment of her flesh.

The streets and lights passing by outside the window were vibrant, shimmering with the glow of the Honmoon that only Rumi was awake enough to watch, and she gave a smile so wide her face felt stretched and uncomfortable at the sight of it.

She was suffocating. She was burning. It felt like acid. It felt like life. The world pulsed between her ears in a rhythm faster than she could hum along to, as the car pulled into the secure parking structure of their tower, and she was sadly forced to dislodge Mira from her shoulder in order to open her door.

Mira grumbled as she woke back up, letting out a deep breath as a sigh while stretching out her long legs and twisting her torso to crack her shoulders, before looking over at where Zoey was snoring softly, completely horizontal on her seat.

Raising an eyebrow, unsurprised and fond, Mira turned to Rumi and held up her hands, and Rumi laughed before raising her own in their usual game of rock-paper-scissors. Mira would choose paper, she almost always did when she was tired, and so Rumi deliberately went rock and sighed oh so dramatically when she lost.

With careful movements, Rumi scooped Zoey up into her arms with ease, and gave a quiet nod and smile of thanks to their driver when she passed by with her friend curling up into her.

Mira took a few moments to catch up, lingering behind to dismiss their driver and check with Bobby on her phone that all of the break-down after the show had gone without a hitch, and if it was okay for the three of them to finally toss their phones across the living room and ignore them for the next thousand years.

All she wanted was a thumbs up. No details, no badgering. And god bless that Bobby had mastered years ago how to communicate effectively with each of them, because a thumbs up and a smiley was indeed all Mira received.

So, easily catching up to Rumi at the elevators, Mira turned her phone off and shoved it into her pocket. “So, three months of capital n Nothing. When was our last break, anyway?”

Rumi frowned as she thought over it, and bit the inside of her cheek, shrugging with a single shoulder. “Before the world tour. We were meant to, after it, but then-”

“Eh. Shit happens, especially to us.” Mira shrugged, stepping aside when the elevator doors opened so that Rumi could squeeze past with Zoey still snoring in her arms. “We get one now, and I, for one, am going to use it.”

There was silence for a moment as the elevator silently lifted high up the tower, rocketing towards the penthouse, and Mira was content to lean against the railing and let her head fall back to find relief from the cold of the glass behind her. Shows were her lifeblood, but the headaches that sometimes came afterwards were always killer, and she grumbled when Rumi hummed in sympathy.

Cradled in Rumi’s arms, Zoey stirred, opening a single eye and smiling sleepily at her two best friends. “Aww yes, no work from me required.”

Rumi dropped her.

On pure reflex alone, Zoey twisted in midair and landed in a crouch, cackling as she straightened up and bounced on her feet a few times to stretch out, then fired a wink to Rumi’s unimpressed scowl.

The scowl was bullshit, they all knew it, but it was still fun to poke, and Zoey’s wink was rewarded when Rumi stuck out her tongue and rolled her eyes. Zoey stuck her own tongue out right back, before giggling when Mira sighed.

“God, now that the Honmoon is solid, maybe I should retire and escape this.” Mira sighed loudly, stretching out the breath as long as her impressive lung capacity could manage, then raised an eyebrow at Zoey’s wide, sad eyes and quivering lip.

“You’d never! Not when every day is a fun day now!” Zoey squeaked in dismay, grabbing both of Mira’s shoulders in desperation.

Mira managed a dry stare for only a few seconds before crumbling, and she pressed a quick kiss to Zoey’s forehead with a grin. “Fine, I guess we can keep this up a while longer.”

The elevator doors opened, and Zoey immediately turned on her foot and bounced out, skipping happily down the hall and into their massive living room, already unbuckling the jacket she’d worn for the show. Mira was right behind her, every step heavier than the last as the exhaustion finally won, and the couch looked like a particular brand of heaven.

But Rumi lingered, resting her back against the elevator handrail and frowning at the floor in thought. Under her jacket and the thick black leather and buckles, her skin burned without sweat, her eyes tingled with every blink, and her breaths came hard and fast without any reason, and yet…Zoey was right. There was no danger left.

No fight coming, no more reason to conjure her blade or keep an eye and ear on the Honmoon multiple times a day to look for any rips or tears. Nothing left but the shows, and the rest that came between them.

It was everything they’d been raised to want and believe in, the goal and ambition of four hundred years of hunters. The rhythm of the world, its very cadence, was at peace. Gwi-Ma certainly wasn’t dead, at least not forever, but the Honmoon now felt different to all three of them. Stronger, more assured. Balanced.

Rumi’s skin felt scorched. Every nerve ending squirming inside of her muscles like flowers attempting to bud and reach the sunlight.

She finally managed to move, releasing the handrail and following the other two into their home, and by the time she reached the living room Mira and Zoey were both already in their robes and flopped onto the couch. Somehow Zoey had even already had the time to remove her makeup, but Mira wasn’t quite that fast.

The television was on, something pointless and mind numbing playing for now while the three of them decompressed, and it was Mira’s turn to pick a movie while Zoey was at the wheel of choosing their dinner. So Rumi was free to walk past and down the hall to her bedroom, affectionately trailing her fingers along the back of Mira’s shoulders as she went when Mira shot her a concerned look.

As soon as her bedroom door was closed behind her, Rumi sucked in a deep breath to brace herself, her fingers going to the buckles of her jacket and undoing each of them with tentative twists. Each step towards her bathroom was daunting, each buckle undone a danger, and her fingers hesitated on the zipper once she was in front of her massive mirror.

With her shoulders tense, and her bottom lip between her teeth, Rumi gradually pulled down the zipper, and let her jacket slide down her arms to drop to the tiles with a heavy thump.

“Oh Jesus.” Rumi breathed, her eyes wide and her gut twisting, as she studied herself in the mirror.

Specifically, her patterns.

Because underneath the thick, black leather, hidden by the high collar of the crop shirt she was known for, the marks along her skin were scorching bright, with purples and whites swirling together so vibrantly that they cast a glow on the rest of her skin. It was more than just a glimmer, it was radiance rippling across her form with enough light it danced off the walls and tiles, making her hair sparkle.

They weren’t spread quite as far as they had in the past, not reaching her wrists and thus safely hidden by the jacket sleeves she had been wearing, and they stopped just above her waist and below her collarbone. But they were luminous.

Rumi tentatively reached up and ran her fingers along the glowing pattern on her bicep, and her eyes widened at how hot they were to the touch, and she hissed and jerked her hand away. They were sensitive, just her fingers had felt like blades, the lightest sensation painful.

With years of practice and an only recently discovered and grown ease, Rumi slowed her breathing, closing her eyes to focus and listen to herself in the way only a hunter can hear.

Inside of every living thing, there is a song. Instrumental, and glorious. Every instrument, every note, every tune unique and theirs. More special and individual than a fingerprint, it was more like DNA, an orchestral mark to be left within the Honmoon just from passing it.

Every person had one. But Rumi…had two.

Always clashing, playing against each other, never in harmony and instead in warring conflict to dominate, to bellow out of her chest and echo across the universe. They had played against each other her entire life, a discordant clash she’d been forced to conduct for as long as she’d been able to hear them.

But what had once been an act of pure effort, powered by shame, desperation, and duty, was now something that had Rumi put her hands on the sink and rest her weight as she kept her eyes shut gently. Every breath slowed the rhythm, her thoughts trying to calm, and she felt the warmth across her skin begin to settle and cool.

Once the softer song of her soul, the one blessed by piano and flute and happy endings, was the one dancing beneath her skin and behind her eyes, Rumi opened them again and looked down at her arms to make sure the glow had faded, sighing in relief when she saw they had lowered to a gentle shimmer.

But she was still…agitated. Uncomfortable. The thought of sitting still, of falling into a mountain of soft pillows and basking in a few weeks of Pointlessness, felt like purgatory instead of relief. The very idea of being still right now had her fingers twitch as if to clench into fists. Her heart stung for a moment as it began to accelerate once more, her legs quivering in the need to bounce, or run, or kick. The very thought of trying to be and do nothing right now…was poison. Was hell. Was wrong wrong wrong-

She needed air. More space than her bathroom provided.

Rumi quickly changed out of her show outfit, still disciplined enough to fold it all neatly and leave it in its usual place to be taken out for cleaning tomorrow, then opened her closet to grab out some of her workout gear. Going for shorts and a tank top instead of anything that might cover her up and suffocate her further, she pulled on her gym sneakers with more force than necessary, and power walked out of her room again.

The other two immediately perked up as she passed by, Zoey’s face tightening in concern while Mira raised her own curious eyebrow. Even though the television wasn’t making much noise, Mira still grabbed the remote to mute it before turning to look at Rumi again with thin lips.

“You okay? What’s going on?”

“Just going for a workout. Burn off the last of the adrenaline.” Rumi forced a smile as she grabbed one of her water bottles from the cupboard to fill up in the kitchen.

Behind her, Mira made a noise of concerned acceptance, her eyes still narrowed at Rumi’s back. Meanwhile Zoey swung her legs off and bounced to her feet, forcing her exhaustion to take a back seat as she instead made her way over to Rumi and placed a hand on her back, making sure to stick to the fabric of her top and avoid touching skin.

Rumi had always flinched whenever either of them had touched her skin, the few times any of it was ever exposed. Even though they now knew the reason why, the years of habit, of comfort, remained, so Zoey kept her hand squarely in the middle of Rumi’s top as she rubbed in concern.

It was strange to be so close to Rumi while Rumi was wearing so little on her upper half. The times Rumi had been sleeveless around them were rare, certainly in the single digits despite the years by each other’s side. She had even always worked out and trained in baggy hoodies and sweatpants.

Sometimes she wore shorts, mainly for performances since her legs were widely regarded as one of her best features according to the internet, and crop tops and jackets that showed her toned midriff were as standard for her as they were for the others. But not once since the Idol Awards, when every single inch of her had been invaded and then exposed, from her hairline to her ankles.

The marks had taken a lot of getting used to, and Zoey couldn’t help but follow the ornate, elegant lines across Rumi’s biceps and up underneath her top. They were never the toxic purple they’d been the first time they’d been exposed to her and Mira, instead most of the time they were almost as pale as skin and nondescript as scars or birthmarks. But right now they shimmered like stained glass under the kitchen lights, and seemed to ripple as Zoey’s breath washed over them.

Rumi initially stiffened under the touch, but quickly relaxed, letting out a weary sigh and turning to give Zoey a gentle smile, reassuring and kind. “I promise I’m okay. Just…pent up, I guess. I don’t know. I won’t be down there long. An hour, maybe.”

Scrunching up the corner of her mouth, Zoey hesitated for a moment before wrapping her arms around her and pulling her in tight, resting her forehead on Rumi’s shoulder and squeezing. “Okay. But, we’re here. We’ve got all the time in the world now, and we’d happily give an eon or ten to you.” 

Quickly placing her bottle down on the counter, Rumi hugged Zoey back just as tightly, humming in a soft happiness as she rested her chin on top of Zoey’s head and basked in the touch. Zoey always hugged tightly, she held onto you as if you might turn to water and slip away at any moment. She hugged you as if to anchor you to the planet. Like her love alone could overpower a reversal of gravity. Sometimes it was too much.

But other times, it was nice to be anchored.

However, when Zoey lifted up on her toes to press a soft kiss to Rumi’s cheek, Rumi stiffened in place and her eyes shot open wide at the feel of it, sparks of electricity rippling through her face and raising goosebumps down her neck. Then they hit her marks lingering on her collarbone, and her knee almost buckled as lightning struck water and scattered.

Zoey immediately let go and stepped back, her eyes wide in horror and her face rushing dark red. “I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to surprise you. Was that okay? I just…thought it would reassure you. Or something. You seem more fine with us touching you now, and-”

Rumi shook her head hurriedly, and she cleared her throat. “No! No, that was okay. Just, yeah, a surprise. It was nice.”

From the couch, Mira raised an eyebrow again as she watched, but didn’t say anything, simply crossing one leg over the other as she regarded her bandmates. When Rumi met her eye, silently asking for help because she clearly had no idea how to reassure a still mortified Zoey, Mira shrugged, and smirked when Rumi gave her a silent ‘you’re no help’ scowl.

Rumi looked back down at Zoey and smiled, placing her hand on her shoulder and squeezing as only one idea occurred to her. Bracing herself, and surprised when she had to suck in a deep breath in order to do so, Rumi didn’t let herself overthink it before quickly leaning down and pressing a kiss to Zoey’s cheek.

It was the first time she’d ever done such a thing, and she was surprised at just how soft Zoey’s skin was under her lips, the faintest lingering scent of her perfume mixing with something spicy and real. The contact ended in a heartbeat, the lightest touch, a ghost, but it was still enough for Zoey to go rigid in surprise.

Zoey immediately went as still as a statue, not even breathing for a second after Rumi’s lips left her skin, before she deflated in relief and gave Rumi a blinding smile. “So it’s cool?”

“Sure. I’m not glass, I promise. It’s just very…” Rumi tilted her head as she scrounged for the right word, grabbing up her bottle as she did so, and shrugged. “New, I guess.”

Suitably reassured, Zoey hopped back so she was no longer effectively trapping Rumi against the counter, and shoved her hands into the pockets of her robe. “We’ll order dinner when you get back? Mira and I can just snack until then.”

“Sounds good. I won’t be long, I imagine. Once the crash comes, I’ll need to come pass out with you both.” Rumi nodded with a smile, and headed out of the kitchen and to the front door, giving both of her friends a reassuring hum and wave.

Mira’s eyes were still concerned, a glimmer of disbelief and doubt in her stare, but there was clearly enough trust underneath that it won out over her suspicion, and she gave her own smile and a nod. “Don’t make us wait too long, or we’ll come find you.”

“I’m going to the gym, not off to war.” Rumi rolled her eyes, the smile still on her lips, and she waved once more before heading to the elevator to hit the button for the entire floor of the tower dedicated to their gym.

The doors of the elevator closed, sealing Rumi from sight, but Mira’s eyes lingered on the spot even though the subject of her thoughts was gone. She thinned her lips, only coming out of her thoughts when Zoey flopped back down next to her.

When Mira didn’t react to her presence, Zoey tilted her head and nudged her. “What’s up? You’ve got your ‘face’ on.”

“As opposed to someone else’s face?”

“You know what I mean. But seriously, what’s going on?” Zoey shuffled so she could follow Mira’s stare, raising her eyebrows when she realized what Mira was now brooding over. “So, you think something’s going on with Rumi too, huh?”

Mira grunted, drumming painted nails on the backrest of their couch, before finally slumping and rolling so she was facing the television again. When Zoey offered her a block of chocolate, she took it with an approving hum, and didn’t speak until she had already eaten half and passed it back to Zoey for her own share.

“You didn’t look at the Honmoon when you touched her, did you? Or in the car after the show?”

“Well, I was a bit distracted wanting to sink into the floor. God, I should have asked permission. Just because she’s, I don’t know, ‘out’ to us now doesn’t mean the boundaries automatically change. Shit.” Zoey sighed, sliding down into a slump and taking a bite out of the block directly, her face dejected and quietly mortified. “Why? What are you getting at?”

Instead of answering, Mira shrugged once more, and grabbed up the remote to turn it off mute and return the background noise. Begrudgingly, Zoey tolerated the dismissal as being the end of the conversation, and rolled onto her side so she could watch as they took turns flipping through channels to find something suitably pointless.

But Rumi’s normal spot on the couch was empty, the balance of the ritual thrown off, and neither of them would fully relax until things were the way they should be.

The training gym took up an entire floor of the tower, as large as the penthouse that the three of them called home. Numerous rooms were dedicated to different purposes, from a swathe of strength machines, to a sparring pit with racks of numerous weapons. Every external wall was simply massive windows, providing a three-sixty view of the city no matter where they were and what they were working on, and Rumi was thankful for the view as she pounded her feet into the treadmill at a speed that any regular person would find intimidating.

But with music blaring loudly from the speakers embedded into the corners of the ceiling, the bass pounding through her body and giving her something to sing along to, her body shimmered with a song that made the sprint so easy to maintain that she was barely even breathing heavily.

She wasn’t sure how long she’d been pushing herself, rotating between cardio and strength over and over again, desperate to sweat out the lightning lingering in her muscles and nerves. The tips of her fingers were tingling, her skin blistering hot, and no matter what she did she couldn’t make it stop.

Rumi growled and hit the stop on the treadmill, hopping off before it even fully stopped, and stormed to a different room to flop back down onto her usual bench press and crack her knuckles. The bar almost bent under the weight of the number of plates she’d stacked on each side, but all it wrought from her was a grunt and a satisfied hiss as she lifted it and began to count.

And yet, even as sweat finally began to pour down her face and under her top, sticking the fabric to her skin, her count passed well into the double digits without her needing a rest. Instead she bounced her foot to the music screaming out from the speakers and almost rattling the windows and mirrors, the Honmoon rippling with every press of her foot and musical sound from her lips.

Nothing was working.

Rumi swore under her breath in a constant stream, frustration making the agitation and energy inside of her body even worse as it added a new type of fuel to the nuclear reactor that seemed to be soaking her flesh in radiation. It certainly felt like her cells were being ripped apart, spliced and then glued back together, fission in the rawest form in time with the music’s beat.

When the music stopped out of nowhere, it caught her enough by surprise that she almost dropped the bar, her eyes flashing open in alarm just in time to steady it and quickly put it up into safety.

As soon as she was able, she sat up, and blinked at where Mira was standing and staring at her with a raised eyebrow, the speaker remote still in her hand as she tapped it on her cheek in thought.

“What’s got you all worked up?”

Rumi sighed and shook her head, then grabbed her towel from the carpet and wiped her face and arms to get rid of the sweat, only to freeze at the sight of her patterns. They were glowing again, bright and rippling as if she hadn’t managed to soothe them at all in the bathroom earlier, and she immediately looked up at Mira in fear.

Easily able to guess what Rumi was suddenly anxious about, Mira shrugged with an indifferent hum, but her eyes flicked down to the glowing lines across her friend’s skin regardless.

They didn’t glow very often, if ever. In fact, the last time Mira could remember them truly shining had been the Idol Awards, as ever since then the most they’d given off had been a soft silver during rehearsals occasionally. But now, the full spectrum of purple hues rippled and swirled within her friend’s form, glowing as bright as neon.

Mira tilted her head in fascination as she let herself study them for a few moments, before shrugging again and looking back at Rumi’s face, smiling softly when Rumi’s anxiety spiked again.

“They’re kinda cool, y’know.”

Rumi blinked at Mira’s slow, casual words, and her mouth dropped open uselessly as her anxiety blew out like a candle from surprise. But Mira looked completely serious, nothing deceitful in her tone or eyes.

Neither her or Zoey had said anything about them since the night they’d found out about them, but it hadn’t ever felt like the topic was being avoided. It had felt more like they were trying to normalize it by simply never bringing attention to them. There had been moments Rumi had caught them looking, and they always turned away in a flash when caught.

So for Mira to be openly admiring the aesthetic of them, without judgement or disgust, had Rumi shuffle shyly and look away, standing from the bench and wiping it down as an excuse to turn her back. “...never thought they’d be described that way.”

“Plenty of people would kill for glowing tattoos.” Mira smirked, pleased when Rumi finally laughed. With Rumi’s shoulders finally untensing, Mira put the remote back on the shelf where it lived, and crossed her arms. “Alright, what’s going on? You’ve been down here for way too long.”

Rumi put her towel over her shoulder as she took a drink from her bottle, and sighed in satisfaction at the cool wash, soothing the sweat still lingering on her skin. “What time is it? Dinner time?”

“Oh we’re past dinner time. It’s three in the morning.”

“What?! Shit! I’m so sorry!” Rumi coughed, her head whipping over to the clock on one of the walls, and her eyes widened as she saw Mira was right. Which meant she’d been killing her body for four hours.

Yet it felt like she’d only just finished her warm-up, from how her body was pulsing and hot.

Mira hummed in confirmation, but waved it off, instead stepping over so she could study Rumi properly in concern. “It’s all good, Zoey’s passed out on the couch anyway, snacks were enough for her. But seriously, first you run out after the sort of show that normally leaves you as zombified as us, and then I come down four hours later to find you all…”

Unable to find the right words, Mira simply gestured over Rumi’s body, from her pulsing, wide awake eyes, to the bright patterns over her entire form. The patterns on her arms never faded entirely, but faint lines had appeared on her midriff as well, which hadn’t been there since the Idol Awards.

It hadn’t been a lie earlier; as far as Mira was concerned, they did look insanely cool. Sure, it had taken some… adjusting, but Rumi was Rumi, and she was beautiful no matter what she was. So of course she’d find a way to make the mark of the underworld look like a flawless aesthetic choice.

But it was certainly surprising to see them out so vibrantly.

At Mira’s concerned frown and scrutiny, Rumi sighed and shrugged in frustration, tossing her towel back onto the bench and spreading her hands. A month or so ago, her instinct would have been to lie, to say she was just buzzing after the show. But they didn’t do that anymore, she didn’t do that anymore. She’d promised. They all had.

So, she groaned in annoyance. “I don’t know. I’m just not calming down. I’m so awake and pent up that I’m burning. I’ve never felt so powerful in my life and it’s got my head dizzy and my heart racing. Mira, I haven’t even taken the edge off down here. It’s like the world has climbed inside of my skin, people and all. I’m so…so…”

“Alive?” Mira raised an eyebrow, a small smile ticking up in the corner of her lips, and she hummed when Rumi nodded helplessly. Quickly checking the time and rolling her own shoulders, flexing each muscle in her body one at a time to see what energy she had in herself, Mira beckoned for Rumi to follow. “Alright, come on.”

Rumi fell in step beside Mira as they passed through the main rooms of the gymnasium and through to their training room, and the large padded sparring arena, and Rumi’s eyebrows shot up when Mira untied her dressing gown and tossed it aside, leaving her in just her pajama pants and one of the baggy shirts she wore to bed. Mira grabbed one of her wooden training gok-dos off a rack and began to spin it in her grip to stretch out her arms and wrists.

When Rumi simply blinked at her, Mira flicked her gok-do and hit one of Rumi’s wooden saingeoms off its hooks and into the air, and a quick follow-up swipe sent it arcing over for Rumi to catch.

Without any more words spoken between either of them, Mira took her own place in the padded arena, and waited with intense eyes and a smirk that showed teeth as Rumi hesitantly took her own.

But even despite the apprehension in her movements, Rumi’s eyes were pulsing and bright, eager as she slid into her stance, her body vibrating, and as soon as Mira was ready she was more than happy to start it.

Rumi shot over to Mira like an arrow, in fact she was almost as fast as one, and Mira raised an eyebrow as she was forced on the defensive from the very beginning, bringing her gok-do up in a cross block to catch Rumi’s blade. But the difference from how things had used to be was immediately obvious, and Mira’s eyes widened as she was hit by an impact so powerful that she slid back across the mat a solid five feet.

Between the two of them, Mira had always possessed more raw strength, that was simply part of being a dancer and wielding her choice in heavier weapon. Rumi had always been the middle ground between Mira’s power and Zoey’s speed, fighting her was like trying to hit water, all smooth movements and precision. But right now, Mira’s breath was knocked from her lungs as Rumi smiled and pushed again.

The last time any of them had been in a fight had been the Idol Awards, they hadn’t even sparred since then, with there no longer being any need. They still worked out, the gym saw plenty of use from all three of them. But with no need to fight anymore, they’d felt safe to take a break from it.

But years of training and fighting for their lives meant that it sat in their bodies and minds with the same ease as remembering to breathe, and as soon as Mira adjusted to Rumi’s strength she was able to adapt. If raw clashes with Rumi were different now, then she simply had to skirt around Rumi’s defense and wait for her moment.

To an outside observer, they were both fast, far faster than a normal person would be able to move, each footstep a drumbeat and their weapons singing through the air and clashing. Beneath their feet, the Honmoon rippled and pulsed with each song of the fight, echoing out.

It had always been beautiful to Mira how the Honmoon seemed to ripple in response to dancing. It was different to how it strengthened and pulsed when they sang, it wasn’t like the Honmoon was enhanced by dancing in the same way. But if Mira had to guess what a spiritual shield was feeling, she’d tentatively say that it enjoyed it when they danced. A loving audience, and so it danced along.

Mira and Rumi grinned at each other as Mira’s gok-do cracked into Rumi’s ribs the first time, sending Rumi tumbling and forced to land in a roll to recover, and Rumi threw her saingeom in a blurring spin that Mira knocked out of the air just in time for Rumi’s hand to grab the butt of her gok-do to push her off balance. Under the powerful momentum of Rumi’s twist, Mira leapt along with it, side flipping through the air to prevent Rumi from twisting her weapon out of her grip and disarming her.

But Rumi followed Mira’s flip with a twirl of her own, bending forward with her impressive flexibility to slide between Mira’s legs right as she landed, and she pulled up to force Mira to jump back into her so her legs weren’t knocked out from under her with her own weapon. It meant they ended up with Rumi behind the slightly taller girl as the gok-do trapped Mira to her, her impressive power pulling Mira back so they were practically glued together. Mira’s hands were trapped on the shaft of her gok-do and unable to release it from her wrists being trapped back, so all she could do was push back against the rock that was Rumi, while fighting the other girl’s strength so she wasn’t suffocated by her own weapon across her chest.

They trembled in place as they fought against each other’s power, the gok-do shaking in place as it was trapped between unstoppable force and immovable object, and Mira growled low as she ground a foot into the mat. In response, Rumi growled as well, a chuckle in the depths of it, and squeezed.

The wood of the shaft creaked and cracked as it started to bend and give way, threatening to snap as neither could overpower the other, and Mira looked over her shoulder to where Rumi was staring at her, with eyes pulsing and her patterns almost blinding. Mira couldn’t help but grin at the sight, her heart pounding, and Rumi’s own lips curved into a smile. With a final strain from them both, the weapon broke, the tension releasing. As soon as the gok-do snapped clean in half, Mira was no longer trapped, and she drove her elbow back into Rumi’s core as she slid her foot back to wrap around Rumi’s ankle.

They tumbled backwards, crashing to the mat and landing heavily, both of them laughing as they flopped and stared up at the roof, Mira’s eyes sparkling as she rolled her head to look at her friend. Rumi’s own eyes were closed as she giggled, her patterns alight with pink and white, and sweat beading on her skin.

It had been a long time since Rumi had laughed, and Mira’s entire body warmed at the sound. Beneath them the Honmoon seemed just as delighted at the return of it as Mira herself was, rippling from the music in each of Rumi’s delighted breaths.

Rumi’s giggles gradually subsided, and she rolled onto her side, opening her eyes again, and met Mira’s look with a grateful smile, fond and deep. “Thank you. I needed that.”

“Well, anytime. Just get better at asking.” Mira lifted up with a groan so she could prop her elbow and rest her chin on her palm, looking down at her friend. “Did it help?”

As some of Mira’s long hair fell free onto Rumi’s face, Rumi brushed it free with a scrunch of her nose at the tickle and smiled. When Mira smiled back, Rumi softly brushed Mira’s hair back behind her ear.

Mira hummed in approval, before her attention was captured by the glowing marks now close to her face, and she slowly reached for Rumi’s wrist with her free hand, giving Rumi plenty of time to reject it. And Rumi clearly considered it for a moment, nervousness flashing across her face, but she didn’t pull away as Mira took Rumi’s wrist in her hand gently and rolled over properly so she could study Rumi’s patterns from up close.

The way they glowed in steady pulses, bright and solid, rippling from intense violets to darker, richer indigos. Gentle lines of silver and white were threaded throughout, none wider than a hair, as fine as spiderwebs. Further enhancing the appearance of stained glass.

As Mira studied the patterns with a fascinated expression, something deeply admiring in her eyes, Rumi could hardly breathe as her heart hammered at the intensity in Mira’s scrutiny. Because it wasn’t the way a doctor examined an injury, it was the admiration of an artist studying a painting at a gallery, and Rumi would have squirmed under the attention if she’d been able to move a muscle at all. Instead she was completely frozen in place, her blood stopping in her veins as her friend’s attention didn’t just linger on what had been her lifelong shame, but instead indulged in looking at them.

Every muscle in her body still felt hot, her nerves firing and writhing underneath her skin. Her heart was pounding so heavily she could feel it behind her eyes, her mouth dry from rapid, shallow breaths. The world was swimming inside of her soul, the same way it had been ever since the show.

Nothing had been working to get it out; not meditation, nor exercise, or listening to her usual music. She was just too full, her reservoir overflowing, filling her beyond her body’s capacity to process the energy and life. If it was possible to feel something, it was churning inside of her, broiling and mixing in a cocktail that had the edges of her shape straining not to breach.

When she went to warn Mira that she wasn’t sure what was causing them to glow, her ability to verbalize anything shattered like glass when Mira’s fingertips ghosted along the marks on her inner wrist for the first time.

Under her own study in the bathroom, it had been an overstimulated agony to touch them, painful and raw. But her entire body rippled under her friend’s touch and it drove her mind white as somehow, somehow, her existence found room to drink in Mira’s attention and admiration. The world pulsed to brighter contrast in her vision, and her lips parted in a strangled gasp at the powerful sensation across her entire being from just a few inches of her marks being touched.

Mira’s head whipped to Rumi with wide eyes at the sound that could only be described as a whine, and she froze at the slight ring of white that appeared around Rumi’s irises for the slightest moment before they faded just as fast as they had appeared. “Rumi…? You okay?”

When she didn’t get a response at first, with Rumi instead staring up at her in uncomprehending surprise, Mira went to pull away, only for the white rings around Rumi’s eyes to vanish and her hand grabbed Mira’s firmly but not painfully. The expression suddenly on Rumi’s face as the incomprehension shattered and melted, was something so hungry and overwhelmed that Mira’s heart lurched.

It wasn’t possible for a person to look so drowned in an emotion, but this was the third time that Mira had seen it in Rumi’s eyes. The first had been Rumi’s pain after being exposed at the Idol Awards, when Mira had given into fear and confusion for the briefest instant and raised her wondo at her best friend. The second had been the euphoria on her face as the Honmoon had healed, and they’d stood holding hands as the world was saved for good.

Rumi’s entire body shimmered as her marks erupted in white and pink as they stared into each other’s eyes, Rumi’s eyes screaming some emotion that escaped words from its enormity, while Mira could only stare at the rising tidal wave.

Wordlessly, Mira reached back down, and placed her hand on Rumi’s arm lightly, her fingers giving the lightest stroke to the wider, more vibrant patterns along Rumi’s bicep and leading up into her top. Under Mira’s touch, the color shifted, leaving streaks of white and pink along the soft purple, like ripples in the ocean, and Rumi trembled as Mira allowed herself to stare in wonder.

Mira’s voice was a low murmur as she spoke, her eyes following the patterns and the streaks of color she was leaving behind in her touch. “Does it hurt…? Do they ever hurt?”

“No. Yes. Sometimes. It’s hard to explain.” clearing her dry throat and her tongue flicking out to wet her lips, Rumi shivered again as Mira’s hand resumed its tracing. “They always got sensitive after shows. But never like-”

A particular trace of Mira’s fingers, a slight scratch of her nails as she reached Rumi’s shoulder, had Rumi’s breath stutter and her voice fail her with a fluttering of her eyelids and her head falling back onto the mat.

Once again, Mira’s touch stopped, and she drew her hand away. This time, when Rumi reached, Mira didn’t give in, and Rumi opened her eyes only to frown at the wide-eyed awe on Mira’s face as she stared down at her. When Rumi lifted her head and looked at herself, she understood why.

Pure lines and lights of pink and white rippled along her body, curving in elegant swirls like cursive brush strokes, as her patterns had spread further. No longer contained to just her arms, they had lit up on her midriff and under her shorts, with thick, vibrant curves along her thighs and calves.

There were no signs of the toxic purple that had haunted her for her entire life, or the orange that had seared her when she’d gotten so close to giving in on the worst night of her life. Instead there was only white, and a particular shade of pink that Mira was staring at with the lightest dusting of a blush on her cheeks.

Mira cleared her own throat, reaching down with a shaking hand and placing it on Rumi’s lower thigh, and gasping as the white patterns directly under her touch rippled pink as if she’d thrown a stone into a pond. The light travelled down to her foot, but also up, and Rumi threw her head back with a gasp and a squirm. The world blacked out as a match was struck and dropped inside of the infinite reservoir inside of her soul.

Under Rumi’s body, the Honmoon flashed, the echo blasting out along the weaving pattern in all directions and past the boundaries of the room, and it was as if a shockwave went through Mira’s body as the floor beneath her shimmered and made her own skin hum.

When Mira’s hand jerked back and she scooted back entirely, Mira looked as confused as she did enchanted, and she tapped Rumi on the shoulder in concern. “Uhh, you okay? Shit. I got-”

“No! No, it’s okay. Sorry.” Rumi shook her head emphatically, and pushed herself to sit up, giving Mira a reassuring smile. But she was trembling, the white rings around her eyes returning but with the faintest hint of light pink to them. “They’re never this sensitive. And the only time they’ve done something like that has been…bad, the bad type.”

“Yeah. I know. I was there.” Mira frowned apologetically when Rumi flinched at the reminder, then shuffled back and tucked  her legs to the side so she could rest comfortably. Also to keep her hands to herself, regardless of how curious and fascinated she still was. “But that didn’t damage the Honmoon, just then. At all. We’d know.”

Rumi shook her head, and no possible explanation came. Her mind was still scattered, her body too large and too small all at once, the pink fading from her patterns but none of the brightness fading from the white. A fuse burned, hissing low, and something was howling.

The light in the room increased even further as patterns shimmered into being along Rumi’s neck, stopping halfway to her jaw, and Mira’s eyes went to them. Unable to help herself, she began to reach out, her touch drawn to them like a moth to flame, but she managed to stop with a few inches to spare.

In response to Mira’s hesitation, Rumi smiled and shuffled closer, and shyly tilted her head to bare her neck properly. “It’s okay, if you’re still curious. They’re sensitive, but you won’t hurt me.”

“I’d never want to. God, neither of us would ever hurt you.” Mira’s face darkened guiltily as she heard her own words, and she looked away with a scowl, even as her fingers stroked along Rumi’s glowing neck.

Rumi shuffled closer with a frown, and put her hands on Mira’s shoulders to ground her and bring her attention back, while also leaning into the touch on her neck that was delicately avoiding her marks for the moment yet lingering all the same. “Hey. Mira, we’ve talked about it. I forgive you. I’m just sorry that I hid it all from you two.”

Shaking her head, Mira looked back at Rumi with a stern frown, and put her free hand on Rumi’s shoulder as well when Rumi’s face turned guilty. “No. Stop that. I’m serious. It wasn’t your choice. It was Celine, you know that. We all drank her Kool-Aid.”

The thought of her childhood guardian, her mentor, had Rumi flinch and her head drop sadly, the patterns rippling their old toxic purple for the briefest moment and the white starting to dim as the usual lump of guilt and regret formed in her chest.

Before it could grow too bad, and any shame or guilt could truly take hold, Mira gently pulled Rumi into a hug, wrapping her arms around her and squeezing her close with a protective growl. “We know better, now. It took us time, sure, but…we know better.”

“Yeah. We do. God, I’m still so angry.” Rumi growled as she burrowed into Mira’s embrace, closing her eyes and resting her forehead on Mira’s shoulder.

Mira snorted in agreement, her jaw clenching and her eyes narrowing as she thought of their mentor, and her fingers dug into Rumi’s back. “Me too. But hey, with the Honmoon solid, we don’t need her anymore.”

Even though Rumi chuckled, the sound was strangled, coming out poisoned and dark, and she squeezed her eyes shut as Mira adjusted so that they could hug more comfortably.

When Mira’s hand came up and cupped the back of her neck, Rumi shivered, and relaxed into it. “I should have trusted you.”

“Not so easy after being raised to think that you were what we were meant to kill, and that your secret made you some ugly and evil thing. It wasn’t your fault.” Mira chuckled, releasing Rumi enough that she could lean back and raise a playful eyebrow, fierce and loyal. “And for what it’s worth? You’re beautiful, and anything but evil. I’ll never forgive her.”

Rumi rolled her eyes and smiled, but when she went to shuffle back and get up, she was suddenly trapped as Mira wrapped an arm around her waist to hold her steady, the taller girl’s expression suddenly stern and deathly serious. The pressure suddenly on the bare skin of her torso, pressing into the patterns still shimmering there, had Rumi bite her lip to clamp down on the shockwave that rippled through her body.

A ripple of intense pink light washed out from every single point of contact, tracing luminance along her spine and reaching her neck and tailbone, the rebounding wave making her eyes slam shut as she wrapped a hand around it inside of herself and gripped it tight.

The match in her soul was close to striking a bottomless well of gasoline, desperate to go somewhere and release into the universe just so the pressure would finally be at peace. A battery with no circuit. A storm cloud waiting for its thunder. Every inch of her body felt stiflingly hot, but Mira didn’t complain or even seem to register it as she glared.

“I mean it.”

Rumi’s eyes fluttered open, and she managed to meet Mira’s gaze even through the way the world was swimming. Her friend’s stare was intense, even compared to Mira’s usual, and Mira only relaxed her tight grip on Rumi’s waist when she saw that she had Rumi’s complete attention again.

“I’ll say it as many times as I have to, until you believe it. And I’ll tell Zoey to do the same. Don’t doubt it.” Mira slowly, painfully slowly, reached up and finally cupped Rumi’s neck properly, her fingers brushing the bottom of her jawline. “You’re beautiful, you’re not evil, and I’m never forgiving Celine for making you think you might be.”

“Say it again.”

Mira sucked in a breath at Rumi’s demand, and how Rumi’s eyes had fluttered closed as she said it. The way Rumi had reached up to take hold of Mira’s wrist and stop any chance of the touch on her neck breaking. Rumi was actively baring her neck to the touch, and Mira’s eyes widened at just how vulnerable she seemed.

Everyone knew that Rumi was beautiful. The internet never shut up about it, network television raved about it, and she was plastered across enough billboards worldwide that it was something that couldn’t be questioned by anyone with eyes.

But Mira suddenly had a hard time remembering a single time that someone whose opinion Rumi cared about had actually told her that. Said it to her face. No, Celine had only apparently ever told her the opposite. Compliments that were about her, and not just her talent, had been as rare as physical affection.

“Please Mira.” Rumi whined, her hands taking grip of Mira’s shirt in pleading need, and she somehow grew even hotter to the touch, her patterns shifting to an all too recognizable purple hue that had Mira’s heart lurch, and they had finally lit up along her cheeks.

Purple meant shame, and fear.

So how could she deny her? After all, since physical touch was something Rumi was able to get used to now, it made sense to try to catch up on the rest. So, Mira carefully readjusted so that she was able to look straight into Rumi’s eyes, and waited for Rumi to open them.

Rumi was trembling, her eyes filled to beyond capacity with something so total and absolute that it washed over Mira just to see it. She softly cupped Rumi’s cheek, careful to avoid touching the sensitive marks, and held her stare without blinking.

“Rumi…you’re beautiful. You could never be evil. And I’ll never forgive Celine for making you think you weren’t the best of us. Zoey and I are going to spend the rest of our lives making you see it. And if Celine, or anyone, tries to get in the way of that, I’ll break them before they get within a hundred feet of you. And Zoey’s got longer range than me.”

As Rumi’s eyes widened and her breathing completely stopped, Mira softly leaned in and pressed a light kiss to Rumi’s cheek, her lips squarely on one of the glowing purple marks.

Fire hit gasoline, and Rumi lurched forward as her marks scorched to a radiant white, down to her bones and then deeper, further, realer. The infinite, bottomless well of something inside her finally able to go somewhere, a gravity able to pull it and guide it.

Mira. Zoey.

Rumi’s hold on Mira’s shirt tightened, both hands gripping tight as the corners of her eyes beaded with tears. “Mira…I…I don’t know how to…”

The way Rumi was trembling under her touch, eyes wide, desperate, and so overwhelmed, was enough for Mira to pull her closer once more, refusing to comment or react to the sheer amount of heat Rumi was radiating. Underneath them, the Honmoon glistened and rippled, lapping at their bodies like ocean waters, always there for them but never making it clear what it was it wanted.

Even the air around Rumi felt radioactive, the sheer intensity of whatever was happening inside of her releasing pulsing vibrations that had Mira’s skin tingling and her vision swimming slightly as she held Rumi’s desperate gaze with a firm, assuring look of her own.

“You’re my family, Rumi. You and Zoey.”

Rumi’s grip tightened, her bottom lip held so tightly between her teeth that she was surely able to taste iron. The unnatural white rings around her eyes shifted hues, touched by pink. “...Mira…I…I can feel…”

The words slipped away from Rumi right as all other rational thoughts did, blown away in the wind when Mira rested their foreheads together, her breath washing over Rumi’s neck and making her patterns shimmer pink. All there was left was the feeling inside of Rumi’s song.

The crescendo was deafening, desperate to escape her foundations, every string too tight but unable to snap. It had her skin screaming as loudly as her chest, the world blurry around the edges but for Mira’s face and the way she wasn’t blinking. The way she wasn’t pulling away, or disgusted, or put off. How she was here, and staying, and ‘You’re my family, Rumi. You’re beautiful. You’re not evil. We’ll protect you.’ and there was nowhere for that to go, the pressure was breaking, and Rumi wasn’t sure what would happen if--

“We love you, Rumi. We’ll all look after each other.” Mira breathed, smiling in the corners of her mouth, before she was knocked back as an impact hit her right in the chest.

Suddenly laying on her back, Mira looked up at where Rumi was leaning over her, a hand on either side of Mira’s head to hold herself up and looking down at her. Their noses were almost close enough to brush, Rumi’s eyes wide and her pupils blown as she struggled to breathe normally.

They stared at each other in silence. Rumi was as stunned by their position as Mira was, before she wet her lips. “...say it again. Please, say it again.”

The world around them rippled as Rumi’s voice came out layered, rippling with its own chorus of demonic growl and angelic chime that washed over Mira with its power, and the Honmoon under Mira shimmered vibrant white and pink as Rumi’s song struck it and fit into its symphony.

Mira managed to swallow, her throat dry but not out of fear. “We love you.”

In front of her eyes, the last of Rumi’s patterns lit up, with elegant lines curling along the sides of her face to connect to her eyes, and even her purple hair seeming to glisten due to the white light coming from the rest of her.

But before Mira could comment or get too lost in admiring it, the pressure inside Rumi broke, and she dropped down onto Mira to crash their lips together. Only needing one hand to support her weight, her other went to bunch up Mira’s shirt again, and she whined.

Mira’s eyes stayed open in shock for a few seconds before they closed, and she couldn’t help but return the kiss with everything she had, wrapping her arms around Rumi’s neck to pull her down properly.

‘It’s okay. It’s okay, Rumi…I’m here. I’m never going anywhere, ever. None of us are.’

Mira smiled into the kiss when Rumi whined again needily, something so desperate in the sound that Mira’s chest ached from the pain of it. The kiss was rough and clumsy, Rumi having no idea what she was doing but just knowing she needed it, because nothing else was working or helping, but Mira always helped, Zoey did too.

As Mira’s hands cupped her cheeks softly, Rumi melted into it, always in harmony with her bandmates and so understanding what was being asked of her. Under Mira’s more experienced touch and guidance, the kiss deepened in a way that had Rumi moaning into her mouth and pressing down more, and Mira sighed happily at the weight and feel of Rumi’s strong, toned form molding to hers.

Under Mira’s guidance, it didn’t matter how much Rumi dished out or how desperately she kept grabbing for more, none of it was too much. Mira was an infinite wellspring to take what Rumi couldn’t help but pour out, giving almost as good as she was getting as she raked the nails of one hand along the marks on Rumi’s arm, grinning happily when Rumi let out a moan so caught in her breath that it was almost a sob.

There were no rational thoughts in Rumi’s head, nothing but the pressure, the need and the feeling of it, endless and escaping definition and burning her so hot that it had started hurting. But Mira, stoic and sassy and loving Mira, drank it and came back for more, teasing Rumi’s lips with the tip of her tongue in a request that Rumi wasn’t aware enough to be insecure about her inexperience with, instead opening her mouth with a loud moan, pure and devoted.

Under Rumi’s hand, Mira’s chest grew warm to the touch, pulsing ebbs sending the Honmoon swirling and rippling as a gentle blue light emerged from Mira’s heart and shined, the pure glow of her own song touching Rumi’s patterns and turning them from pure silver to a serene, sunset pink.

When the elevator doors slid open, both girls broke apart in surprise, and their heads whipped to the doorway, where Zoey was standing with wide eyes, bundled up in her dressing gown and looking barely awake.

“Oh! Oh. Uhh. Right!” Zoey blinked, her face flushing a deep red as she rapidly looked between Rumi and Mira. “...uhh…that’s new!”

Rumi immediately scrambled off Mira and stood up, mortified, and her patterns rushed back to their poisonous purple as she clamped her hands over her mouth. “I’m sorry! Shit, I’m so sorry. I don’t know what happened. I don’t know why I…oh god, I’m so sorry. Shit. Shit. I should…I’m sorry. I can’t believe I just did that. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I'm sorry!”

Before Mira had even finished standing, with Zoey’s mouth still open uselessly as the ability to think of anything intelligent to say was still rebooting, Rumi squeezed her eyes shut, wrapped her arms around herself as if to hold her insides together, and vanished in a cloud of silver fog.

“Wait!” Zoey called out, extending a hand as if to grab Rumi and pull her back, but it was too late. So instead she simply stared at the now empty space where Rumi had been standing, and shook her head in wide-eyed confusion. “I… shit, where did she go?? I didn’t know she could do that! Is that new?! Was… that, new?”

Zoey indicated between Mira and the spot she and Rumi had been sprawled out, and Mira bit her lip as she took her attention from where Rumi had vanished from. At the helpless confusion on Zoey’s face, Mira couldn’t help but laugh, but she also looked away sheepishly and sighed.

“...I wasn’t exactly expecting it.”

“But you’re certainly not complaining, huh? Now come on!” Zoey manically beckoned for Mira to follow, and sprinted back to the elevator, rapidly pressing the button a number of times even though it was already on the right floor. “She didn’t have her phone on her, so finding her is going to be a bitch. God, I hope she didn’t go too far.”

Humming in agreement, Mira’s head was still slightly reeling, and she stayed in the same lost daze until the elevator trip was over and they were back in the penthouse, so they could put on clothes.

As Zoey ran down the hall, Mira called out after her even as she ran into her own room to get changed. “How did you even know?? Weren’t you asleep??”

“I was, until the Honmoon started singing at me! Woke me up!” Zoey shouted back from her room as she quickly changed out of her pajamas, and threw on a basic pair of jeans and a short-sleeved shirt.

“Singing at you??” Mira chose her easiest boots to buckle up, and rejoined Zoey in the hall, pulling on a leather jacket to zip up.

Zoey nodded emphatically, her eyebrows up, and she shoved her phone into her pocket before leading the way back out. “Oh god yeah. It felt like Namsan Tower all over again, except…more intimate. Personal. Not a song about the world…just about us.”

There was nothing to say that wouldn't sound either too sappy or too dismissive, so Mira elected to say nothing at all, instead already wracking her brain for ideas of where Rumi would go in order to hide.

Before everything had happened, the safest assumption would be that she went to Celine. But that bridge was truly burned, Mira and Zoey had destroyed it themselves after Rumi had told her the darker parts of the way Celine had raised her.

So they were left with zero ideas of where to start, in a city of nine million people. Rumi was one of the most famous music personalities in the world, but everyone is a ghost at four in the morning.

They weren't going to let that stop them, so they both filed into the elevator again and hit the button for the underground parking lot.

Mira was perfectly content to take the trip in awkward silence. Zoey was not.

“So… that happened.”

“Yes. Yes it did.” Mira stayed looking straight ahead, keeping her voice measured and calm.

Zoey shuffled awkwardly, her hands in her pockets, as she watched Mira's face, familiarity easily penetrating the blank facade. “Was it…I dunno, nice?”

“Nice?!”

“Kissing Rumi! I don’t know!” Zoey spread her hands helplessly, waving them nervously as she spun on her foot to face Mira directly. “I didn't know you wanted to.”

Mira thinned her lips, her eyes narrowing as she looked up at the roof and sighed. The past twenty minutes played over in her head from start to finish, every second studied, and as she reached the moment Rumi had been on top of her she felt her cheeks warm. She couldn’t help but shrug, just as lost as Zoey was. “I…didn't know I did either, until about ten minutes ago.”

The answer was absolutely useless, but seemed to mollify Zoey regardless, the girl frowning and nodding to accept it and finally looking away again, but still shuffling on her feet.

Just as Mira thought the conversation was only going to be that short and simple, for now at least, Zoey spoke again in a quiet, concerned murmur. “Was that her first kiss?”

That exact question had occurred to Mira as well, even while it had been happening, with the way Rumi had been grabbing at her and drunk on hunger without any precision. Especially if it was only in recent days that Rumi was comfortable being touched at all.

Dating wasn’t exactly easy for celebrities of their caliber, but Mira and Zoey had done a bit of it over the years. Some had been discovered and plastered all over the internet and magazines, forced to suffer the public’s scrutiny, but thankfully most had managed to go under the radar.

But Rumi had never even shown interest in dating anyone, whether in secret or publicly. Mira and Zoey had never put much thought into it or questioned it, because if Rumi was happy then that was all that mattered.

Except, she hadn’t been happy, had she? She’d been alone. Untouchable. In fact, the only person she’d shown any kind of open interest in, or pursued, ever, had been a goddamn demon. And that had gone extraordinarily well, hadn’t it? The dude had died in front of her.

“I think it was. Unless she and Jinu ever…” Mira trailed off, only able to shrug with a sigh. Rumi had been incredibly tight-lipped about whatever her connection with Jinu had been. And considering how it had ended, Mira and Zoey had absolutely been willing to let her hold it close to herself. So there was no way of knowing any of it for sure.

God, there had been so many secrets, and Rumi had kept them all just to protect herself, because she’d been raised to believe she had no other choice.

Mira’s hand tightened into a loose fist at her side, her jaw clenching as guilt and anger twisted into a knot inside of her mind. But she pushed it aside for now, this wasn’t the time to get pissed at Celine again. They had a far, far higher priority.

Taking in a deep breath and letting it out slowly, Mira clamped down on a spike of anxiety when she pictured what Rumi’s face had been right before she’d vanished. And since when could she open portals, anyway? That was a demon’s power, except Rumi’s fog had been silver instead of crimson, and it hadn’t left a hole in the Honmoon behind.

No answers would come just from thinking about it, and Mira shook her head to push it aside for now, and looked over at where Zoey was being conspicuously silent. But when she saw the small frown on Zoey’s brow, along with a tightening of her eyes and what Mira could only describe as a pout, Mira raised her eyebrows.

“Wait, Zoey, are you jealous??”

Zoey jumped, the expression immediately vanishing, and she looked over at Mira in alarm, squeaking.

“No! Of course not!” Zoey shook her head wildly, but when Mira simply stared at her, waiting for her to fold, Zoey did with a confused whine. She shrugged, shoving her hands back into her pockets, and looked away with reddening cheeks and a self-judging scowl. “Okay, maybe a bit. Which is dumb. I don’t know, being someone’s first kiss is special, y’know? And Rumi's one of us, so I guess part of me always thought...I don't know! You and I...well, y'know, so...yeah I don't know. Like I said, it's dumb.”

Zoey huffed, her face beet red, and suddenly found the elevator wall incredibly interesting.

“I didn't know you wanted to.” Mira said quietly, keeping her voice gentle and slow.

Zoey laughed dryly, closing her eyes and taking in a shaky breath, as if she was the lightest nudge from crying, and furious with herself for it. Always too emotional, in wild and unpredictable ways that she had trouble catching until after the fact. Always feeling too much, but never expressing it right. But she wouldn’t get upset about this, she didn’t have any right to. It wasn’t hers to feel anything about, wasn’t it?

Besides…

“Neither did I, until about five minutes ago.”

Mira hummed low in her throat as she watched Zoey crumple, and she reached over to pull Zoey into a hug, pressing a kiss to the shorter girl’s forehead and humming again in approval when Zoey hugged her back tightly.

With her expression hidden, Mira closed her eyes and took a breath. “I didn’t exactly plan on doing it. But, no, you were right earlier. I’m not complaining, which surprises me just as much as it does you, trust me. I just hope I didn't mess her up. She’s gone through enough.”

Zoey shook her head, still basking in the warmth of the hug. “I'm sure you didn't, Mira. But what happened? Not in an ‘I want saucy details’ way, but in a ‘hey, why was the Honmoon singing and turning white at four in the morning?’ type of way.”

The elevator doors opened before Mira could reply, and they released each other and stepped out, looking around as they decided which car to take. They both briefly considered splitting up, but the very idea of that felt like poison the moment it passed through their minds, and they cringed at the same moment.

Instead, Zoey pointed to one of their more nondescript cars, and Mira nodded and walked over to the locked cupboard where they kept all the keys. “I’ll explain on the way. But it’s…weird. Something’s really going on with her, and the Honmoon certainly seems to have its own opinions. The shows have really been doing a number on her.”

“I’ll drive, you talk?”

“You wish. I’ll drive and talk, you think of where the hell to even check.” Mira grabbed the right keys and locked the cupboard again, raising an eyebrow when Zoey pouted, and ran the back of her fingers down the other girl’s cheek as she passed by and pressed the fob to unlock the car.

Both of them looked at each other anxiously one last time, Zoey’s mind racing through possible places to look for their missing friend, and Mira trying to dissect and word what the hell had happened and what might have caused it. She had her own theory, but it was one she had to chew over before there was any way she’d run it by Rumi herself, and Zoey was a great soundboard; brilliant and intuitive. So it was worth a shot.

With a silent nod to each other, they opened the car doors and slid in, buckling up their seatbelts and Mira gunning the engine while Zoey already brought up a map on her phone to start picking places.

They were not going to lose Rumi again. Never, ever again.

No more letting her be alone.

Rumi was never alone.

Chapter Text

“I get it now.”

Rumi sat with her knees tucked up under her chin and her arms wrapped around herself, perfectly balanced on the edge of the roof despite her awkward posture. But her balance had always been flawless, so even curled up in a ball she didn’t sway in the pre-dawn breeze that was washing over the city with its chill.

It was a long drop to the paving stones below, but any fear of heights had vanished as a child. Instead she was only giving attention to the glimmering lights of the central city in the distance, and the sky as dawn began to tease its arrival after a long, sleepless night.

The shine from her patterns had finally started to fade, the purple less of an intrusion than the white had been, but they still cast a soft glow onto the tiles around her. She wished she’d somehow managed to grab a jacket to cover them up with, but she hadn’t exactly been intending on teleporting across the entire length of the city.

Considering it had only been her second time teleporting ever, and this one had been just as accidental and instinctual as the first, she was just thankful that she ended up somewhere that she knew. It wasn’t something she knew how to consciously control. Just a bestial instinct when it came to running away, apparently.

None of it was something she could control. If she was able to, then none of the past two hours would have happened. She never would have dragged Mira into her purgatory and ruined everything. The better part of a decade of friendship, of family, loyalty, and trust, betrayed out of greed and gluttony. Years of the perfect Dance of Three, gone in one rare lapse in control.

But she hadn’t been able to help it. Mira had just kept talking, saying things, and Rumi had been so ravenous for it that even though she’d been overflowing already she’d demanded more, begged for it. Until the dam had broken, and there’d only been one direction Rumi had wanted the wave to crash.

Greedy. Selfish.

Even now, sitting and wallowing in her mistakes, she could feel it inside of her chest, pulsing and twisting around with venomous barbs and cruel recklessness. Something in her was lacerated, black droplets trailing down into the well and hissing into acrid steam on the lava still bubbling.

A low drop of bass sank in her tune, a deep rumble like drums in unexplored depths, and her patterns pulsed in response, crawling along her left temple and teasing the corner of her eye. Rumi tightened her arms around herself, but no matter how tight she could squeeze there would be no holding her heart inside her chest so it would beat without bleeding. But it raced, pounding so hard her lungs had trouble sucking in air.

Why was her heart still racing? Why couldn’t she just stop? Hadn’t she done enough?

The surprise of Zoey’s sudden appearance and the shock that had been written across her face had been a blizzard’s wind that extinguished the flame that had finally been burning through what was pushing against Rumi’s insides and making her head swim. The inferno had died before the fuel had been exhausted, and now as it drowned her it was a sludge of grey ash that sat foul on her tongue.

Now all there was, was guilt and shame, and fear of returning home and having to look either of her friends in the eye. So she wasn’t surprised that the powers fueled by shame had brought her here of all places.

If she closed her eyes, and she allowed herself to for a self-indulgent moment, she could pretend that the one person who might have been able to understand was sitting next to her, on the roof where they’d always spoken. But even Jinu had managed to escape what they both were, in the end. The same sort of redemption Rumi had found too, though he had paid a higher price.

It just also meant that he wasn’t around for her to ask for advice.

‘Is this what it was like for you? Did you feel this much all the time? You said it was just shame and guilt. You lied. You always lied.’ Rumi squeezed her eyes shut, and thumped her forehead on her knees. ‘Lie to me again now. Tell me it goes away. Tell me it isn’t me.’

The world had crawled inside of Rumi’s chest and put down roots, shoving her insides to the walls of her ribcage in order to make room for itself. It was a roar and a whisper, a laugh and a whimper, and it felt like torture as much as it felt like her.

It was hot, she was burning so hot.

Beneath her, the Honmoon shimmered visible for a moment, as if reaching out with a hand to comfort her. A wind chime to tell the garden that fresh rain would always come, if the flowers could just hold on a little longer. Please bloom, please don’t wither. Risk growing leaves in your winters.

…Zoey’s song sounded like wind chimes sometimes, when she was humming in the kitchen making her morning coffee.

The image of Zoey’s eyes, wide and almost uncomprehending when she’d caught them, had Rumi thump her forehead again a few times as if trying to shake the thoughts loose. But there was no wriggling away from what was inside her and chewing, scratching, clawing.

Guilt. Shame. The way Mira’s lips had felt when she had smiled against hers. Guilt. Shame. The look on Zoey’s face when she’d walked in. God, what have I done.

A pulse of light went across her body, starting in the lines around her eyes and rippling down to her ankles, a twisted purple that haunted her. The patterns had been just purple for a while now. Rumi estimated that it had been almost two hours since the mess at the tower, and there hadn’t been even a shimmer of white since.

For her entire life, she had always been in control. That was how she had survived. How she had stayed sane even as she’d grown older and the patterns had spread further. Disciplined, and steady.

But now, she felt wild, and untamed. As if she was straining on the end of a leash she herself had spent a life binding. It was one thing to bare her patterns and wear them openly, something she had both feared and craved her entire life. But ever since she had accepted them, accepted herself, everything else had begun to change.

Rumi sighed and lifted her forehead from her knees again, opening her eyes and looking up at the fading stars. “I thought to be a demon was to be empty. God, Jinu, I think I finally understand. I’m sorry it took me so long.”

There was no reply, the universe wasn’t that kind, and Rumi sighed again and unfurled her legs so they could dangle off the roof, resting her weight on her hands behind her. A breeze washed over her bare skin, raising goosebumps, but she didn’t even feel it beyond the shallowest level, not over the heat still screaming through her veins and occasionally demanding a deep breath to steady herself.

Things had never been like this before. It had only been since the Honmoon had been sealed for good, a flawless barrier between the mortal world and a world that was nothing but pure hunger. They were meant to be at peace now, meant to be able to rest now. But instead all Rumi could do was ache. Too full, but still empty. Pressure and vacuum.

Rumi closed her eyes and let her head fall forward, humming a mindless tune to herself as she tried to soothe the orchestra inside. A melody that had only found its tune when Mira’s touch had been on her skin, and her words had been in her ears. Now that was gone, because Rumi had messed it up.

Damned if she hid things from them, damned if she shared them. Verses may change, but the chorus stays the same. Around and around the record skips, revelations turning to background noise. God, if only confessing to something made it change.

Nothing but the truth now

Nothing but the proof of what I am

The worst of what I came from, patterns I’m ashamed of

Things that even I don’t understand

Rumi’s voice, singing quietly to her lap, was forced to cut off and break when a lump formed in her throat, and she bit her bottom lip as she swallowed it down and tried to ignore the echo and ripple of a stone dropping down into the hole inside.

A warm glow leaked in through her eyelids, and she opened her eyes to look down at her arms as her patterns glistened in heartbroken and lost orange, something angry in the pooling depths within the color. The lines shimmered to life down past her wrists, tracing the back of her palms and around her fingers in elegant knots and ribbons, and turning her nails from a soft painted pink to void-like black.

“This isn’t fair. I thought…that even if they didn’t go away, I could make my peace with what they mean. I am what I am, I am who I am, and I know now that Celine was wrong. That I was wrong. That you were wrong. But why isn’t that enough to stop it?” Rumi whispered to the memory of Jinu, the demon whose own choices had condemned him. The man whose own choices had saved him. But no reply came, she couldn’t even fill in the blanks of what he might have said, and frustration whipped through her with lashes of lava that burned so hot that she slammed a fist onto the tiles next to her. “Am I always going to be more than what I want to be?!”

The Honmoon pulsed a prismatic supernova beneath her fist as her voice echoed out across the world, and the weave that always hummed along with the song she had given it rose in its crescendo just to listen to her.

A few weeks ago, she would have been terrified that she might have just damaged it, sometimes she had frayed the Honmoon when her second song overpowered the first. But it was a different Honmoon now, and she was a different girl. Stronger. Braver.

But was she also greedier too? How much could she fit inside of herself before her world continued to crack under the weight?

The world had no answers, only music, and the shield tried to wrap around her like a blanket while chiming softly to coax her into harmony. But she didn’t have it in herself to sing along this time. There was no peace coming her way tonight. No world where the screaming heat and blinding light inside of her would be dimmed from just time and rest. You can’t ask a storm to come back later, instead you could either hide from it or be trapped in the downpour when the thunder began to rumble.

‘But,’ the Honmoon sang a lullaby, ‘nobody should walk in the rain alone.’

Rumi sighed, her fist still digging into the roof next to her, and she unclenched her fingers and pressed down to flatten her palm on the surface to try to ground herself. Concrete creaked, and she looked down at the pulsing orange swirls and thick lines wrapping from her shoulder to the tips of her fingers, where the skin had blackened and her nails had sharpened.

Immediately pulling her hand to her chest and cradling it, hiding it from the world’s sight, Rumi squeezed her eyes shut and took in a deep breath to hold it. As if it would suddenly help even though it hadn’t done any good so far. But instead the pounding of her blood, the scorching heat and pressure inside her skin that was bulging out her nerves and feeling as if it would tear her muscles to escape the prison of her flesh, simply grew louder as her fear heightened further.

“No! No no no, please no. I didn’t mean to mess it up! I just…I just…” Rumi’s grip on her own wrist tightened to the point of pain, her eyes stinging as tears beaded in the corners. The others had accepted her. Had embraced her. Had trusted her. Greedy. Selfish. Mira’s touch. Mira’s words. Zoey’s lips on her cheek. You’re our family. We love you. We’ll protect you. “I couldn’t help it! I didn’t know what else to do. It was too much. I didn’t know how else to feel it!”

The Honmoon rang with the scream of an off-tune guitar as Rumi shouted, the shockwave radiating out in all directions, and she clamped her hands over her ears to block out the ringing echo.

A few moments later, the Honmoon rippled back with a gentle light blue wind chime. A wave reaching the shore and stroking gently across her skin. A song that she knew well, she’d been basking in it for years, finding peace in it. But tonight, it had her eyes flash open, and she looked in the direction the echo had come from, the Honmoon having carried it to her like a message from home.

Knowing what it meant, Rumi knew there was no point in trying to run again, and as her chest ached and the patterns rippled it was clear she didn’t really want to. So, surrendering and yearning, she vocalized back gently without any words, and the gentle plucks of her guitar and the song of her violin rippled back out across the Honmoon as a reply.

It wouldn’t be long now, the Honmoon carrying the message in loving cradled hands, and Rumi sighed and let her head fall forward and her eyes closed, sitting up more and tucking her hands together in her lap. Each passing moment, the chimes across the Honmoon brushed her skin with increasing frequency, cello and bass carrying it in perfectly composed harmony.

Rumi had always been the stealthiest of the trio, so she heard the faintest tap on the roof behind her. But she didn’t outwardly react. It was only once a warm presence sat down next to her, a shoulder brushing her own to support her without crowding her, that she opened her eyes again and looked to her right, where Zoey was smiling at her with a gentleness so earnest that Rumi’s eyes stung just from basking in it.

“Hey…” Zoey whispered, her hand twitching on her knee as she almost gave into the instinct to touch, to reach out, but she squashed it down.

“Hi. Hey.” whispering back, Rumi couldn’t return the smile, instead keeping her face tight with a wavering mask. Especially when another warm presence sat down on her other side. But she wasn’t brave enough to face what she’d done yet, instead keeping her attention on Zoey. Like a coward. “How did you find me…?”

“We’ll always find you. Your song’s too beautiful to miss, especially when it’s so sad.” Zoey hummed kindly when Rumi’s eyes widened and she took her bottom lip between her teeth, and she tilted her head with fascination tinting her kind smile for a moment. “You definitely didn’t make it easy this time, though. That was a new trick. How long’s teleporting been a thing?”

Rumi shuffled awkwardly, looking away and back to the lights of the city in the distance, the shining of them less noticeable as the sky truly began to change colors and lighten. The way Rumi had suddenly shut down didn’t surprise Zoey in the slightest. Just because Rumi had shown them what she was, didn’t mean she would suddenly be casual when it came to talking about it.

But, surprising the others, Rumi answered rather quickly. “I’ve only done it twice. First was to get to Namsan Tower in time, after seeing Celine. Second was tonight. I didn’t mean to. It just sort of…happens.”

Zoey’s eyebrows raised, her eyes sharpening in perked interest, but she shoved it aside for now and softened her expression once more. Instead her smile took on a teasing, amused tilt for a moment, and she giggled quietly. “Well, it saved our bacon the first time, so I think we can forgive you for this one. But if it’s going to become a regular thing, you should probably start keeping your phone on you more. Could make grocery trips easier though.”

There was a snort from Rumi’s other side, the first sound that Mira had made since sitting down, having been waiting patiently. The reminder of the reason she’d been sitting on the roof in the first place had Rumi stiffen, her eyes closing again when her chest tightened.

But one of the things the last few weeks had taught her, was that she couldn’t run from truths forever. So Rumi braced herself, summoning every drop of bravery still inside, and looked to her left where Mira was looking at her silently.

The normally stoic and blunt woman’s face was soft and open, her studious brown eyes narrow. But not in scrutiny, instead they were simply calm. It made Rumi’s stomach twist and her skin itch, pulled taut around that same unnamable something that had grown beyond its confines. There was nothing hostile in Mira’s face, Rumi knew how to see it even when Mira tried to hide it, but she wasn’t smiling either.

When Rumi didn’t say anything, and instead looked away and down at her lap again, Mira and Zoey made eye contact with each other. Their own conversations over the past two hours of searching bounced between them in miniscule twitches of their eyebrows and tightness to their lips, and Mira nodded when Zoey’s eyes warmed reassuringly.

Mira let out a silent sigh, and tentatively reached up to place her hand on Rumi’s shoulder, giving her plenty of time to pull away and reject it. But she didn’t, so Mira rested the touch, deliberately staying on the fabric of her top and avoiding even the skin that wasn’t marked.

All the same, the patterns closest to the sudden warmth and contact shimmered pink that was immediately contaminated and squashed by a rush of vibrant, toxic purple. Rumi squeezed her eyes shut, a stuttered breath escaping her lips, and spoke without looking to face her friend.

“I’m so sorry, Mira…god, I’m so sorry. I can’t believe I did what I did. If you’re angry, I understand. If you need some space, I can get a hotel room somewhere during the hiatus and-”

“Hey, enough.” Mira’s voice was quiet, but firm, and Rumi immediately shut up. With her own slow, strained sigh, Mira squeezed Rumi’s shoulder. “Don’t say sorry. It makes you sound like you regret it, and do you really want me to feel like I’m something to be regretted?”

Stunned, Rumi had no response to that, the arguments and apologies shored up in preparation draining out like sweat, and she looked over at Mira with wide eyes. The way Mira was looking at her now, with strength inside of her compassion, along with something else that Rumi had never seen in her friend before, had Rumi’s body hum and her patterns dull as confusion infused into the guilt and diluted it.

On the other side, watching the exchange quietly and knowing it wasn’t her place to interrupt, Zoey took Rumi accepting Mira’s touch as permission to give her own, and she gently placed her hand on Rumi’s back, reaching up with her other to brush some loose strands of Rumi’s hair back over her ear. Clearly her friend had been fiddling with her usual braid, she always did when she was anxious. Always either her braid or the buckles on a jacket. And with her arms and shoulders exposed to the air, the patterns pulsing in steady glows of ashamed purple and toxic orange, her braid had of course been her only choice.

The strands shimmered slightly as Zoey’s bare fingers touched them, and Zoey couldn’t help but let out a breath of awe as she noticed from being so close. As someone who had helped Rumi undo her braid after shows a thousand times, she was well aware that they’d never shimmered so beautifully before.

But they glistened as the light of Rumi’s patterns hit them while being moved, the color shining as if stained glass, and Zoey couldn’t help but linger in her touch for a few moments longer than was necessary.

Mira reached down and took one of Rumi’s hands from her lap to hold in both of her own, running her thumbs across the back of Rumi’s palm. It was a good excuse for Mira to look away from Rumi’s open, desperate eyes, without making her feel rejected. The patterns across the back of Rumi’s hand flashed pink for the briefest moment as Rumi sucked in a quick breath, a shiver going through her entire body from her head to her fingers and toes even though Mira hadn’t touched the patterns directly. But she was hyper alert to every nerve Mira was touching, and that was enough for an electric hum to shiver beneath Mira’s fingers, a circuit teased with closing, hungry for it even if Rumi was trying her best to freeze.

Despite being without direct contact, the light within seemed to pulse in time with Rumi’s thoughts and her conflict as she was surrounded by affection on both sides, when she had clearly been expecting judgement. One affection was warm, Zoey’s attention soft and grounding, while Mira’s was a rumbling storm passing out over an ocean, electrifying the air and bringing in the tide.

Mira thinned her lips, and squeezed Rumi’s hand. “It was definitely a surprise. But-”

“I’m so sor-”

“ But, I wasn’t exactly an unwilling participant, was I?” Mira cut back in firmly, giving Rumi’s hand enough of a squeeze that Rumi’s attention locked onto her, and Mira allowed Rumi to stare into her eyes and see as far into her soul as Rumi was brave enough to do.

Rumi fell silent again, her lips slightly parted as she took in slow, confused breaths, and her eyes lightly flicking around as she peered into Mira’s uncharacteristically open gaze. The way Mira’s lips were softly curved into the barest hints of a smile, and her eyes were determined and sincere. The truth delivered firmly, a stated fact in the form of a question, and Rumi shook her head in a miniscule twitch as she wet her dry lips with the tip of her tongue.

From her other side, Zoey’s touch on her back firmed, rubbing gentle, soothing circles as she continued running her fingers through Rumi’s hair with a delicate lightness that only a musician could achieve. With every time she twirled some of Rumi’s loose strands around her fingers and gently combed them, Zoey felt Rumi shudder and relax slightly further, and she smiled to herself and shuffled closer so Rumi would truly feel her presence, and hopefully find strength in it.

Absentmindedly, Rumi reached behind herself with her free hand in response to the increased warmth, checking to see what had changed to make her feel so warm and loved, and her fingers trailed along Zoey’s stomach with a delicate scratch from the claws Rumi had forgotten she even still had. Zoey squeezed her eyes shut at the sensation, a firm graze that left fire along the exposed skin of her stomach, and she had to hold her breath to stop herself gasping.

Instead she leant in and pressed a soft kiss to Rumi’s shoulder through the fabric of her top, carefully avoiding skin, before her eyes then widened as the patterns closest to the spot flashed light blue for the fastest moment, there and gone in a blink that Zoey would have missed if she hadn’t been staring.

Rumi didn’t even seem to notice, still staring at Mira as Mira held her hand, and when she finally spoke again it was in a whisper from a dry throat. “Why did you kiss back..?”

The question came out so desperate, so lost and confused, that Mira’s heart twisted in her chest at how it was visible in Rumi’s eyes that she was lost at sea, tossed around in a dark storm she didn’t understand. Mira sighed inside her mind, and externally raised a coy eyebrow.

“Why wouldn’t I?” Mira couldn’t help but smirk when Rumi’s eyes somehow widened further and her entire curling spiderweb of patterns rushed with such a vibrant pulse of vivid pink that Zoey had to close her eyes to shield from the glare, and when the radiance settled once more there was still a slight pink hue to Rumi’s skin. But it wasn’t something she’d survive being teased about, Mira knew it, she could see the delicate cracks, so instead she squeezed Rumi’s hand again and gave a serious nod, honest and sincere. “It’s certainly left us with a fair bit to talk about, sure. But not when you’re like this. It can wait.”

Rumi managed a shaky nod and a grateful smile, and shivered once more when Mira smiled back softly, before jumping when Zoey pressed another gentle kiss to her shoulder. She turned her head to look at her other friend, and her expression crumpled once more. “I’m sorry to you too, Zoey. God, I really am. I know I screwed up, and I didn’t mean for you to…god, I don’t even know.”

With her lips still lingering on Rumi’s shoulder, Zoey chuckled and rolled her eyes, sitting up and readjusting so she was facing Rumi properly, one leg dangling off the roof into empty space while her other was tucked underneath herself. “Hey, I’m with Mira. You didn’t do anything wrong. Was one hell of a shock, sure, but even the Honmoon knew that something was changing. An instrument being tuned. And I think it wanted me to know.”

Zoey grinned and shrugged when Rumi blinked, confused and surprised, and she giggled at the way Rumi’s expression had shifted from lost and guilty, to utterly confused. To an outsider, Rumi was a blank wall even when her face gave expressions, even harder to see the truth of than Mira could be. But Zoey simply knew her too well, and shrugged with a single shoulder again when Rumi’s confusion at both her and Mira’s attitudes reached its zenith.

“So, you aren’t mad?” Rumi asked quietly, before huffing when Zoey shook her head, and her voice finally rose above a whisper as she looked between her two friends in confused exasperation, her braid whipping around with enough force Zoey cringed when it smacked her on the side of the head. Rumi clamped her hands over her face and groaned into them loudly. “Why the hell aren’t either of you mad?! I practically forced myself on you, Mira! I lost control, like a typical demon. I just…”

The stored up energy inside of Rumi’s chest rushed out of its seal and into her veins, soaking up to her skin and igniting her patterns with a swirling, prismatic cascade of light. The entire spectrum rippled over her being, bright enough the glow came through the thick fabric of her top and shorts, as every emotion it was possible for a person to feel crashed together and broiled in a forceful churning.

Anger at herself, exasperation at her friends, guilt at what had happened, relief that they weren’t angry, confusion that they weren’t angry, guilt about being relieved that they weren’t angry, an indulgent shudder as she remembered what they should have been angry about.

A hum, a burn, her skin hurt, her eyes tingled, breathing didn’t have enough oxygen and fire needed oxygen to keep burning, too much, too much, what the hell was going on?!

Rumi snarled into her palms, her eyes squeezed shut, and her voice carried a dry, tearless sob. “I didn’t know what to do! It was too much. God, shit, everything is too much at the moment. I feel like I’m losing my mind. I don’t know how to make it stop!”

A powerful ripple of purple and white radiated out from Rumi on all sides as the chorus of her soul hit the Honmoon like the moon crashing into the ocean, and Mira and Zoey both jumped as it washed over them at full potency from the proximity. It was enough for Mira’s entire body to hum with pins and needles across in every nerve, inside and out. A static that had her shiver. Zoey had to suck in a breath to steady herself as her own song, her own internal rhythm, faltered like a skipping record under the force of Rumi’s.

It was a sensation they’d both felt something similar to before, and they looked at each other over Rumi’s shoulders, Zoey’s eyebrows tightening as she tilted her head as if making a point. Mira hesitated, thinning her lips, before giving a miniscule nod.

But it wasn’t like the last time they’d both seen it from Rumi, after the Idol Awards when Rumi had lost control in front of them in her desperation and pain. The Honmoon wasn’t harmed, this time. No fraying or tears, no new weaknesses. Instead the Honmoon took its Hunter’s pain and shouldered it as a friend, smoothing it out across its radius without disturbance or distortion.

It didn’t matter how large the force inside of Rumi could become. The calm, loving shield she and her friends had coaxed to life was large enough to shoulder it, and it shimmered white and pale blue around Rumi’s body with a humming chime of ‘I’m here too.’  

Mira reached over, moving slowly to give Rumi plenty of time to shake her head or reject it, before putting her hand on Rumi’s knee, her fingers ever so slightly brushing the markings that were still swirling between every imaginable color. Just as she’d expected, Rumi’s head shot up from her hands as a shudder went through her body, pulsing out from the spot Mira’s touch grew firmer.

Gently reaching up with her other hand, Mira continued to move slowly, painfully slowly, and Rumi didn’t even twitch, didn’t even breathe, until Mira’s warm hand was on her cheek, placed directly over the glowing lines curving up to Rumi’s eye. The orange ring around Rumi’s iris pulsed, and the color washed a different hue, shifting to a gentle pink as Mira ran her thumb over Rumi’s cheekbone.

The markings along Rumi’s face and neck felt as if they were on fire, every millimeter of contact screaming into her nerves and searing down to her bones. But it didn’t hurt, it wasn’t pain, instead Rumi’s hands began to shake on her lap, until she felt as Zoey took both of them between her own and squeezed.

Rumi couldn’t even blink as Mira touched her carefully, but firmly, grounding her with the faintest trace of her fingers along the glowing patterns spreading out from the back of Rumi’s neck and up to her jaw and temple.

As her friend, her bandmate, her family, violently trembled under her touch, shining like starlight, Mira thinned her lips. “Yeah. You’re losing control. Zoey and I think we know why. But also, don’t you dare think of what happened that way. You and Zoey are the two people I love most in the whole world, Rumi. You’ve never been very talkative, so if your way of saying it back with your whole chest is to do that, well, I certainly got the message.”

A quiet whimper escaped Rumi’s slightly parted lips, her eyes glistening as they misted up, and she startled for a moment when Zoey immediately hugged her from behind, wrapping her arms around her middle and nuzzling her cheek into her back. Rumi melted into the embrace, her eyes closing and a single tear escaping to trail down her cheek, stinging like a blade across her markings.

Mira shuffled closer and slid her hand from Rumi’s cheek to the back of her head, and pulled her into her own hug, making sure Rumi was safely cradled between the two people who loved her the most.

Quietly shushing the shivering girl, Zoey sighed and pressed a sad kiss to the back of Rumi’s head, resting her forehead on her and holding her tighter.

Rumi wasn’t going to stay intact much longer. It was only a matter of time until she exploded properly, the sheer vibrant life she was overflowing with had nowhere it could go. Zoey could feel it in Rumi’s body heat as she held her, could hear it in her heartbeat, could almost taste the radiance when she pressed another kiss to the back of Rumi’s shoulder and her lips lightly grazed the exposed skin.

Under her lips, the patterns on Rumi’s side washed from an overwhelmed purple and orange to a bright cerulean blue, and Zoey’s eyes widened as she watched the ripple carry through the current from Rumi’s shoulder to her jaw, and also down to her waist. Rumi let out another whimper and a shudder, and Zoey put it aside for now and simply wrapped Rumi in her arms from behind, while Mira did the same from in front.

Slowly, as the minutes stretched by, Rumi’s patterns finally began to dim as she calmed, the orange and purple dripping out of her like infected blood from a wound, leaving only white, pink, and blue behind. The sun was almost at the horizon by the time her patterns had dimmed to the point they would have looked like glass from any reasonable distance, the shimmering only noticeable from how close Mira and Zoey were pressed against her.

Once Rumi was calm, her breathing steady and the trembling gone, Mira and Zoey gently released her and leant away, giving Rumi the space to run her hands over her face to wipe away the streaks left by her tears. Still in her makeup from the show the previous night, it had been thoroughly ruined over the course of the night, leaving her racoon eyed, with a dusting of glitter still on her cheeks and now smudged down to her jaw.

She looked like a wreck, and she knew she did. But if there were anyone who would be fine with her being in pieces, it was the girls on either side of her, so she refused to be embarrassed about it as she sat up and shifted so she was staring out across the city. Before she had the chance to fold her hands in her lap, she felt a wash of warmth in her chest as Zoey and Mira each took one, and she lovingly intertwined her fingers with theirs.

They sat in silence for a few minutes, simply admiring the brightening sky and the view from a distance as the city woke up.

But eventually Zoey couldn’t help but speak again, her voice far too playful and curious for how tired she certainly was. “So why here? If you don’t mind me asking. Like, if you can’t control where you poof to, why’d your brain pick here of all places? A random roof in a random district.”

Rumi sighed sadly, keeping her voice quiet. “It’s…where Jinu and I used to come, to talk.”

“Oh. Got it. I guess it makes sense that you’d want to talk to him about this.” Zoey nodded quickly, scrunching up the corner of her mouth, before looking over at Rumi and tilting her head with a few rapid blinks. The twist to her mouth was casual, just simple curiosity, but there was an edge to her eyes as well. Something guarded. A portcullis ready to close. “I mean, you two were kinda close about this sort of thing. I think. Right?”

Rumi frowned at her friend, asking softly. “Zoey…?”

“Right. Rambling. Sorry.” Zoey immediately cut off, and looked ahead again, taking in a deep breath and letting it out slowly as she tried to deliberately look straight forward without a twitch.

She failed, of course. Her grip on Rumi’s hand tightened as her thoughts and feelings twisted around, and Rumi watched as Zoey bit her bottom lip and frowned to herself.

Rumi sighed, turning her head the other way to look at Mira, and she wasn’t surprised that Mira was watching the exchange. But instead of saying anything when Rumi looked at her, Mira simply tilted her head in a kind shrug.

It had been weeks, and they had been patient. Rumi knew that. She’d felt them avoiding the topic with all of their being, ever since the one and only time they’d asked her about it, back when the wound was still raw and bleeding. Rumi had needed to keep it wrapped in a tight bandage at first, and they’d respected it.

God, she loved them for that. For their kindness, their patience, their acceptance. Zoey was curious by nature, Mira was paranoid by upbringing, and yet they’d let her heal.

Even though her heart still ached from it, Rumi sighed to herself again, before looking ahead and speaking to them both. “It’s… complicated. There was nothing normal about any of it. Everything with the Saja Boys, and my patterns, and his soul. We were both so messed up, but being messed up together made things easier. Gave us both hope.”

Zoey nodded slowly, still frowning, before releasing her bottom lip and squeezing Rumi’s hand comfortingly. But she couldn’t quite keep the personal curiosity entirely out of her next question, and she knew Rumi and Mira would both hear it.

“So you two really were… y’know …?”

The Honmoon rippled beneath the three of them again as Rumi closed her eyes and her chest twisted. Because that was yet another question that would never be answered now. Lingering without closure. But that was just the way her life was, wasn’t it? How it had always been, ever since she’d been old enough to ask questions about, or reach for, anything.

“Almost, I think.” Rumi shuffled uncomfortably, forced to clench her jaw as a lump briefly formed in her throat and then slid down into her gut, setting the oil bubbling for a flash. Anger warred with her grief, and it tasted like the rot of resignation on her tongue. “Almost. Everything for me, my entire life, has always been nothing but Almosts. I’d almost gotten away with you guys never knowing I was so messed up, we’d almost turned the Honmoon gold, Celine had almost loved me, Jinu had almost escaped Gwi-Ma. So, we were just another almost.”

Zoey’s face was crestfallen as she listened and watched Rumi’s face show cracks in her attempt to stay calm and composed, and she immediately felt a twist of guilt and shame in her heart. Jealousy had clung to her insides, whispering like a parasite, and it had only grown louder over the past hours since she’d walked in on what had now changed everything.

Because it had changed everything, hadn’t it? There were things that it was time she and Mira told Rumi too, that their friend might not know. Theories to toss back and forth. Reassurance to be given, and trust to be shored up and smoothed over. Rumi had felt so guilty and ashamed of what she’d done on impulse, that she had instinctively opened a portal to the place where the one person who’d understood her had been able to simply sit and be with her.

The one place where Rumi hadn’t felt lonely.

And Zoey felt jealous? Well, now she simply felt like shit. Shame and guilt clogged her arteries, strangling her from the inside and making her muscles feel sluggish, but she kept it behind her eyes as she squeezed Rumi’s hand and whispered.

“I’m sorry, Rumi. Shit, I’m so, so sorry.”

Rumi simply shook her head, managing a small, weak smile, and closing her eyes for a second to simply let it hurt. There was no point pretending it didn’t, and that it wouldn’t for a while.

From Rumi’s other side, Mira spoke again for the first time in quite a while, clicking her tongue quietly as she put her words in order. “We still wish you’d told us, though. About your…demon side. I get why you didn’t, Zoey gets it too, and I know we’ve talked about it. But…”

Mira trailed off into a sigh, giving an exhausted shrug when Rumi and Zoey both looked over at her, but she raised Rumi’s hand to her lips and pressed a light kiss to the back of her palm, carefully avoiding the patterns still faintly tracing down to Rumi’s fingers.

The feel of Mira’s soft lips on her sensitive skin had Rumi shiver, and she missed how Zoey smiled on her blind side. Instead, she was too distracted squeezing Mira’s hand to stay grounded, her face falling. “I know. I’m sorry. I really am. I wanted to, I wanted you guys to know me, to truly know me. But, god, just look at me, even now.”

Zoey chuckled, shuffling around again so she could carefully lean over and, with a small smile, press a warm kiss to Rumi’s cheek. But this time, she deliberately pressed her lips to one of the pale, white lines still faintly glistening in the early dawn light.

A gasp escaped from Rumi before she could catch it, her head whipping around to stare into Zoey’s eyes, Zoey’s face still close enough that their noses were almost brushing. Zoey’s brown eyes were locked onto hers, gentle and sincere, and she refused to break Rumi’s stare even as her attention wanted to be drawn to the rush of light blue that filled Rumi’s patterns to bursting, every pale line rippling like a glowing sky.

There was the slightest sound of wind chimes and light strings being plucked, the Honmoon beneath them singing softly, and Mira looked down at where Rumi’s claws were fading and the skin of her arm was returning to a normal color. Meanwhile Zoey watched as the unnatural pulsing color to Rumi’s eyes faded, and her soft, beautiful brown irises returned.

“We’re looking. Trust me, we are…” Zoey shuffled again so she could rest her forehead against Rumi’s, holding her stare, and whispered. “And Rumi? For what it’s worth, I think you’re beautiful too.”

Blue danced inside of Rumi’s patterns with gentle currents and tides, but her insides were anything but serene as she stared into Zoey’s eyes, so close she could feel Zoey’s breath washing over her neck. Under Zoey’s stare, the sincerity in those eyes, Rumi could tell that Zoey meant it. God did Zoey mean it. And Rumi’s chest stung from a skipped beat when she felt Mira squeeze her hand from the other side, as if to reassure her of something.

Rumi simply stared, her jaw clenched tight as if to hold something inside, wrapped in walls and chains inside of her bones. She knew this feeling, now. She’d felt it only a few hours ago. So, she tightened her grip inside, and tried to speak. Tried to warn her…

Not again. Please not again. Please. Please.

“Zoey, I…” Rumi’s voice was strangled and high, her once again human eyes widening at the proximity, the touch, and the way Zoey had whispered the words like they were a confession, admitting to a secret Rumi didn’t understand.

Shaking her head with a smile to cut Rumi off and dismiss it for now, Zoey pulled back, and swung her legs over the edge of the roof again, taking Rumi’s hand in hers once more. Rumi was still staring at her dumbly, Zoey could see her in the edge of her vision, but she smiled and hummed a gentle tune that made the Honmoon dance.

“Let’s just watch the sunrise, for now. We’re already in a good spot. Then home? Together?”

Rumi swallowed, and turned to Mira, a thousand questions in her desperate eyes and the quiver to her bottom lip. But Mira simply smiled, a secret and a promise kept in each corner.

Some things weren’t for the open sky to know. The world wasn’t entitled to all of what the three of them were. Some things were just for them.

So Rumi smiled, squeezing each of their hands, and looked up at the sky. “Okay.”

Zoey giggled happily, and shuffled closer, sharing her body warmth with Rumi so closely that she was glued to Rumi’s side. “Yay! It’s been ages since we’ve done this. C’mon Mira, snuggle line.”

Laughing quietly with a roll of her eyes, Mira moved closer as well, cradling Rumi’s hand on her lap and letting her head fall so it rested on Rumi’s shoulder, while Rumi let her own fall to Zoey’s.

They sat together in silence, rare and blissful silence, as even the Honmoon beneath them faded to leave them in private as the sun finally broke the horizon and became visible, casting its golden glow in streaks across the world.

In the morning light, Rumi’s patterns glimmered white, like stars lived within her, and Mira and Zoey stared.

Rumi pretended she didn’t notice.

By the time the three of them got back to the penthouse, they were all too exhausted to say a word, and they didn’t need to speak to somehow know the arrangement anyway. On their own accord, after changing for bed and lowering the blinds to make their home as dark as possible, all three of them filed into Mira’s room since she had the largest bed, collapsed onto it, and passed out.

Thankfully, Rumi didn’t dream, because she had no interest in hearing a single thing her subconscious had to say to her. Instead the exhaustion in her body and her mind was finally able to overpower everything else still pulsing and burning inside her chest, and she slept deeply, sandwiched between her friends as Zoey cuddled her from behind and Mira from in front.

When consciousness returned and she opened her eyes, it was impossible to tell what time it was, every window blacked out and the lights off. The blankets pulled up over her body were warm and soft, the mound of pillows comfortable, so she was more than happy not to check the time. Floating in a comforting void for a while sounded divine, each muscle in her body sore as if wrapped in barbed wire, and her mind foggy and overtired.

It felt similar to a hangover, and she grimaced at the sensation and tried to roll over onto her back, only to find she wasn’t able to due to the arm still wrapped around her middle, and the warm body against her. Suddenly remembering where she was, Rumi stealthily looked around, trying to be as quiet as possible, and blinked.

While Zoey was still curled up behind her, lightly dozing judging from her breathing, Mira was gone, leaving space for Rumi and Zoey to migrate to the middle of the bed in their sleep. Somehow, Mira had managed to get up and moving without Rumi even stirring, which was enough of a statement on just how exhausted she must have been that Rumi raised her eyebrows. Meanwhile Zoey slept like the dead, she always had, so it wasn’t a surprise that she’d slept right through any movement or noise.

Rumi hoped that held true, as she carefully tried to extract herself from her friend’s embrace so she could get up. But the moment she tried to unwrap Zoey’s arm from her torso, Zoey’s breathing skipped, and her grip around Rumi tightened. Clearing her throat as she stirred and woke up properly, Zoey’s eyes opened sleepily, and she gave Rumi a bright smile.

“Hey.” Zoey yawned, then tugged Rumi so she would roll onto her back. As soon as Rumi did so, Zoey shuffled in, resting her head on Rumi’s shoulder and tucking into her side. “What time is it?”

“No idea. I don’t want to check.” chuckling, Rumi let her head roll so she was looking down and making eye contact with Zoey, who was still smiling at her. “What?”

Zoey shrugged, still blinking herself awake and her ability to think not yet running at full throttle. Her hair was out of its normal space buns and instead around her shoulders in black waves, and every sleepy blink had her gorgeous eyes opening wider, slightly more awake. She was beautiful, even in the dark Zoey was so beautiful, and she always had been.

When Zoey answered, her voice was still raspy, the accidental growl in it pleasing enough to Rumi’s ears that her spine tingled. “I’m just happy you’re here. That you’re close. I’ve always wanted you close.”

“What do you mean…?” Rumi frowned, shuffling slightly to get more comfortable, with Zoey readjusting as well. “I’m always close. None of us really spend any time apart.”

Zoey snorted, raising an eyebrow to make it clear she knew Rumi was being deliberately obtuse, and smirking to show she wasn’t bothered. But then she sobered, and sighed, resting one arm across Rumi’s stomach while tucking her other in against herself.

She took a moment to pick her words carefully, and spoke equally as slowly, sounding far more awake when she did. “I’ll always respect your boundaries, no matter how they ebb and shift. But you’ve always needed more hugs than you let us give you. Now I get to catch up. Mira and I both get to catch up. You’re close in a way that you never were until now.”

Heat touched Rumi’s cheeks at the earnest affection, the sheer pure fondness, in Zoey’s eyes, and the consideration in her voice. In the pitch black darkness of the room, the walls danced with shadows as Rumi’s skin shimmered, her patterns betraying her with a pale blue glow barely brighter than firelights, gone in a flash.

Rumi cleared her throat and broke eye contact, looking up at the roof and keeping her voice as aloof and casual as she could manage, even though she felt as if she was being strangled. “That’s…really not necessary. Don’t feel obligated to.”

Even though her vision was still swimming from the unexpected ripple of blue light in the room, Zoey blinked through it until she could make out Rumi’s face again in the darkness, and sighed when she saw Rumi keeping her expression as blank as possible. As if building a mask could possibly make it real. But she’d clearly forgotten that Zoey’s head was practically on her chest, her heart was beating in Zoey’s ears.

Zoey chuckled and shook her head, careful not to dislodge the cuddle, and poked Rumi in the ribs gently. “It’s not an obligation, Rumi. It’s a dream come true.”

Satisfied when Rumi yelped and squirmed at the poke, Zoey giggled and settled back into the dark of the room. Under her ear, Rumi’s heartbeat slowed and steadied, a grounding bass for Zoey’s own heart to count off to as she let her mind wander and her body doze.

But then a thought occurred that had Zoey hum in concern, and she looked up at Rumi apologetically. “I’ll do my best not to cross your boundaries again, though. I caught you off-guard in the kitchen last night.”

Rumi blinked in surprise, before a disbelieving laugh came out. “You’re apologizing for crossing boundaries? After what you walked in on??”

To her surprise, Zoey simply smirked, her eyes sparkling mischievously in the dark at the reminder, and Zoey let it sit and simmer between them until Rumi started to get shy and scowled.

Once she decided to have mercy, Zoey lifted her head and rolled onto her stomach, propping her elbows on the mattress and resting her chin in her hands as she looked down at her friend with a soft smile. “Eh, it was certainly one hell of a shock, but you didn’t upset me or anything. Meanwhile I gave you a little peck on the cheek and you froze like a deer in headlights. So, I’m sorry.”

Rumi’s brows dipped in a frown at Zoey’s ease, and she shook her head. “Oh. Well, you didn’t cross a boundary with me either.”

But instead of accepting the answer, Zoey simply raised an eyebrow at the far too quick brush off, and waited. So Rumi sighed, and let herself think about it properly.

Because Zoey was right, it was new between them. Any kind of touch beyond a hug had been so rare and so fleeting that eventually Zoey and Mira had stopped trying. The two of them had developed a casual, easy intimacy between each other over time, and Rumi had watched it from the outside, at a far enough distance that she wasn’t actually sure how far it went. Mira had never been particularly affectionate, her love and support came out in how she went above and beyond to make their lives easier. But Zoey had always been the opposite; she loved loudly, she was affectionate openly .

As for Rumi herself? She had no idea. She had absolutely no idea. All she knew was that she’d spent over half a decade watching, but now Zoey was here, and she was warm, and gentle, and looking at her like Rumi sometimes caught her looking at Mira.

Rumi took in a deep breath, and let it out slowly. Selfish. Greedy. “I liked it, I always have. I was always just…scared. If either of you got too close at the wrong time…”

“We might have seen them. I get it. If that’s the case, then good morning Rumi.” Zoey didn’t let herself hesitate, and leant down to gently kiss Rumi’s cheek.

In the dark, she missed her aim, and her lips pressed directly to one of the pale, crystalline marks still lingering, and the reaction she got had Zoey pull up in alarm as Rumi gasped and shuddered so violently the bed creaked. Once again, the pure darkness of the room was banished as Rumi’s patterns lit up, illuminating the two of them in soft, pale blue.

Zoey watched in awe as the light gradually dimmed again, and her staring was blatant enough that Rumi went to pull the blankets back up over herself to hide, but she stopped when Zoey caught her wrist. When Rumi didn’t pull her arm free, instead simply looking up at Zoey in shy surprise, Zoey gave a soft smile and began to study the patterns along Rumi’s arm.

Unlike the previous night, where Rumi’s entire body had been absolutely covered in the patterns, with all of them emerging and bursting into light, most had since faded back under the surface of her skin. Faint lines still threaded across her cheeks and up one side of her neck, and thick curves swirled and twisted across her collarbone and stomach, but the ones below her waist had vanished once more, and the only marks still on her arms were the permanent ones always on her biceps.

But even though she only had less than half her marks alight, the silver glow was still enough to cast soft shadows across the roof and walls, and Zoey’s eyes were mesmerized as she ran her gaze along the ornate patterns on Rumi’s bicep that curled up and disappeared under the sleeve of the loose band shirt that Rumi had worn to bed.

They had all returned to a gentle silver, but unlike earlier the light wasn’t dimming entirely, remaining faint for Zoey to admire and memorize the shapes of as Rumi stared up at her face with bated breath. Unlike Mira, who had studied her patterns like an artist admiring a painting, Zoey’s face was more like a gardener finding joy in a bouquet of flowers, reveling in the very existence of them.

It didn’t matter that they were beautiful, although they absolutely were. It mattered that they were Rumi.

Zoey reached down and, with the tips of her fingers, pushed up Rumi’s sleeve to expose the rest of her bicep, so she could examine and admire the patterns that traced over the toned muscle. “They really are beautiful. I actually really like them.”

Under Zoey’s careful, loving touch, Rumi was fighting not to tremble even just from the way Zoey was looking at her, and she couldn’t manage a voice louder than a ghostly whisper. “I still don’t understand how you and Mira can say that. My whole life, I hated them. I’m only just learning not to.”

“They’re just another part of you for us to love.” Zoey hummed, gently leaning down and pressing a light kiss to Rumi’s bicep, at the nexus point of several of the glowing spiderwebbed lines.

The Honmoon shimmered into visibility on every surface in the room when Rumi gasped, every mark on her arm rippling light blue once more, and she squeezed her eyes shut and pushed her head back into the pillows. Reverberating off the walls of herself, the light of her patterns grew in pulsing ebbs and tides, until eventually Zoey was forced to close her eyes and look away from the brightness of them.

Rumi grabbed a fistful of the sheets and held her breath, concentrating as best she could, and turned her head away in embarrassment. “Shit, sorry. I’m sorry. Hang on. Give me a second…”

At the embarrassed whine in Rumi’s voice, Zoey looked back down at her despite the light, and reached up to run her fingers through Rumi’s hair reassuringly as Rumi concentrated. “Hey, hey. You okay? I’m sorry. Was that too much?”

There was no immediate response, Rumi instead growling to herself in frustration as last night’s hell raked sharp talons along her spine. But it wasn’t as bad anymore, she was at least able to think in words and not just instincts, so she managed a jerking nod as her patterns dimmed back to a soft silver once more.

Once her pulse was no longer screaming between her ears, and her teeth no longer felt like fangs under her tongue, Rumi opened her eyes and looked up at Zoey apologetically. “I’m sorry. I don’t know why I’m so goddamn… god, I don’t even know what to call this, at the moment.”

Zoey was forced to wait a few seconds as her eyes adjusted back to the dark, blinking rapidly, before asking softly. “Sensitive?”

“That’s too human a word for it, Zoey. I’m sorry, but it is.” Rumi shook her head, sitting up and pushing herself back so she was propped up against the headboard, and buried her face in her palms. Zoey made an unoffended noise that was more curious than anything else, and Rumi groaned. “I feel like I’m going insane! I don’t know what’s real right now. What’s me. And what’s just the noise. I’m sorry. It’s too much, I know it is. You saw what I ended up doing to Mira last night, for god’s sake.”

While Rumi took a few moments to center herself again, Zoey instead got up onto her knees and sat back on them, resting her hands on her thighs as she chewed over Rumi’s words. Because there was something familiar about them, in a way that Rumi would have noticed if she’d been a bit more clear-headed. So Zoey didn’t even need to ask any more questions in order to be able to place a hand over her own chest and feel the ghostly echo of what she knew Rumi was doing to herself right in front of her. And it ached to watch it happen. To see Rumi start to fall down into that dark, all too familiar pit that was an inescapable purgatory.

Unless you were helped out of it, by the people who loved you. And wasn’t that just the most convenient thing in the world, right now…

Zoey shuffled closer until the only way to be closer would be to fall on top of Rumi entirely, and took Rumi’s hands in her own, to pull them away from Rumi’s face. Rumi didn’t fight the guidance, and she looked up in silent shock at just how serious Zoey’s expression was, with her lips in a determined line and her eyes sharp and certain.

Once she had Rumi’s attention, and it was clear Rumi was going to give her all of it, Zoey nodded and sucked in a breath to prepare herself. “Alright, here’s what’s real. No bullshit, no flowy lyrics. The hard reality.”

Zoey reached forward and cupped Rumi’s cheek in her hand, firm and fond, and preventing Rumi from looking anywhere but at her. She didn’t want Rumi to even blink, and miss a single nanosecond of what Zoey needed Rumi to see in her eyes.

“You are never, ever going to be too much. I know you feel like you’re going to explode right now, but that’s okay. We’ll catch you. We can take it.” Zoey shook her head when Rumi opened her mouth to interrupt, and ran her thumb along Rumi’s cheek lovingly when Rumi bit back her objection. Because Zoey knew, all too well, what Rumi’s objection was going to be.

How can you be sure? Why? Why would you risk it?

It was the easiest answer in the world. It always is.

Zoey leant forward, and pressed her forehead to Rumi’s, taking the hand of Rumi’s she still held and pulling it to her own chest to cradle and hold as if it was precious. Because Rumi was precious. Rumi’s touch was precious. “Because we love you, so so much. You didn’t let us be there for you before. Let us be here for you now.”

When Rumi simply stared at her, wide-eyed and floundering, with a quivering bottom lip and a storm in the back of her eyes, Zoey rose up a bit and pressed a soft kiss to Rumi’s forehead, and then a second to the cheek she wasn’t currently stroking. Rumi shivered even though her skin was hot under Zoey’s touch, and Zoey sighed against her soft skin.

“I’ve got you. We both do.”

Rumi whined, squeezing her eyes shut, and she wrapped her arms around Zoey’s middle and pulled her close so abruptly that Zoey would have fallen forward entirely if she was a bit less nimble. But Rumi didn’t even notice, instead clinging to Zoey like a lifeline, squeezing her eyes shut.

Every inch of Rumi’s skin that Zoey was now flush against rippled into cerulean blue, the pure light of the ocean under the summer sun, and it washed over Zoey’s body and felt as if it was wrapping around her just as much as Rumi herself was.

Zoey shushed Rumi quietly, holding her, but the position was awkward and she really only had two options, one of which being Let Rumi Go which really wasn’t an option at all, instead sounding more like torture for both of them. So instead, Zoey moved slowly and gracefully, and swung one of her legs over Rumi so she could settle comfortably in her lap.

In response, Rumi took advantage of it to simply pull Zoey in closer, and Zoey gave an encouraging hum, cupping the back of Rumi’s neck with one hand while running the fingers of her other up and down Rumi’s arm, leaving lines of vibrant blue under her fingertips across Rumi’s patterns.

They burned Rumi’s bones, her fingers tensing and flexing as if desperate to have the claws she’d managed to grow again the previous night, and she squeezed her eyes shut in a desperate attempt to focus. The smart thing, the rational thing, would have been to let Zoey go and break the contact off. But Rumi wasn’t rational.

Selfish. Greedy.

Rumi instead buried her face into Zoey’s neck and whimpered, holding her tighter, and Zoey hummed again, flattening out her hand so instead of overstimulating Rumi with her fingertips, it was a grounding grip around her bicep.

Under Zoey’s touch, Rumi’s skin was scorching hot, as if it could have turned water to steam like burning coals, and the glowing marks were hotter than the rest. But Zoey didn’t complain, instead she pulled back, sliding her hand from the back of Rumi’s neck and to her cheek again, looking down into her friend’s eyes and intending on giving a kind smile.

But when she saw the thin, pulsing blue lines that were glowing in Rumi’s irises, Zoey’s own eyes widened, and she shivered at the sight. Rumi’s arms loosened around her, but not to release her, instead for Rumi to place her hands on Zoey’s waist and anchor her.

“Zoey, I… please don’t let go.”

The Honmoon sang a high chorus as Rumi’s song shifted, and Zoey’s heart skipped for a few moments in surprise. But not fear. Never fear. Not when it was Rumi. Instead, after giving Rumi a few moments to come back to herself, Zoey slowly and intimately placed her hands on Rumi’s shoulders, and lowered herself back down.

Rumi’s breaths were hard and fast as she stared at Zoey, and her eyes stung with tears. “What if I really am too much, now? I don’t even feel like a person right now.”

“You’re Rumi. Total and beautiful. Our guiding light home.” Zoey replied gently, sliding a hand up to Rumi’s neck and running the ends of her nails along the sensitive skin in slow, light scratches that carefully avoided getting within inches of any of Rumi’s marks.

Under the light touch, Rumi calmed, leaning into it, and the tension in her shoulders and jaw loosening as her breaths slowed back down. Silver still danced beneath her skin, but no longer so brightly that the glare was hard to look at, and Zoey felt as Rumi’s immense heat began to subside.

Once she felt that Rumi had calmed down, Zoey pressed a quick kiss to her cheek and went to slide off her lap, before yelping when she was immediately pulled back and held flush to Rumi’s form. But she didn’t fight it, instead simply hugging Rumi again and letting herself be held. Being a human teddy bear was something she could absolutely provide in surplus. It was a service that Mira never took advantage of, so it was nice for someone around here to do it.

As Zoey’s fingers went to her hair to run through it, Rumi burrowed into her neck, closing her eyes, and she sighed in frustration at herself. “...I don’t know how to be like this, Zoey. How to feel like this.”

The sensation of Rumi’s breath washing over her neck had Zoey shiver, her fingers faltering in Rumi’s hair, and she had to squeeze her own eyes shut for a moment. It wasn’t helped when Rumi’s grip on her back tightened and her fingers began to dig in almost possessively.

But Zoey took in a quick breath and held it for a moment, keeping her voice soothing and calm. “Feel like…what?”

When she didn’t get a response after almost a full minute, with Rumi instead practically rigid underneath her, Zoey’s fingers stopped in their movements and she frowned.

But then she felt as Rumi took in a deep breath and then pressed a soft kiss to her neck.

Zoey’s eyes widened as her entire body tensed, a rush of tingles spreading out from the spot on her neck until even her lips were humming with it, and she let out an undignified squeak as she pulled back and looked at Rumi in shock.

Under Zoey’s sundered stare, Rumi remained completely still, letting Zoey peer into her soul and find all the answers she might be looking for. And she hoped that Zoey would have more luck than herself.

Because it didn’t have a name. Being like this. But Rumi had felt it before, in rare moments that never lingered; the way the crowd screamed along to their songs, the sound of Mira and Zoey bickering about the most pointless stuff imaginable while she watched from the kitchen counter, the way Bobby’s face would light up like they hung the moon for him every time he told them he was proud of them.

It was the cocktail of not wanting any more Almosts, mixed with all the Every Days that she wanted to drown in. An infinite, endless appetite that might kill her, and god right now it felt like it would kill her. But it wasn’t the sort of sensation or craving that a person felt.

The hunger might kill her. But being overfilled to the point of rupture could doom her too, and right now, looking up into Zoey’s eyes, she was filled to absolute bursting with that nameless, bottomless something. There was no winning. No escaping. Simply being.

As long as Mira and Zoey were by her side during it. As long as Zoey wasn’t lying to her.

So she smiled wordlessly, her eyes vulnerable and desperate, and let Zoey see it.

“Oh. Oh. I…okay, wow.” Zoey’s breaths were slow and shallow, washing through slightly parted lips as she stared down at her best friend. “Rumi, are you sure? That's...I mean, you and I...we... I'm not saying no, but...”

Rumi simply nodded slowly, unblinking and vulnerable, but she loosened her grip around Zoey’s middle so that Zoey could reject her and get off if she decided to. But god, she really hoped…

What did she hope? Hope was still new skin over a fresh wound. Sensitive, and without calluses or grip yet.

Carefully, almost as if expecting it to be a trick Rumi was playing on her, Zoey slid a hand around to the back of Rumi’s neck once more, and cupped Rumi’s jaw with her other. Every movement was slow, and cautious, and she didn’t break eye contact with Rumi until the last moment as she leant down and pressed a kiss to one of Rumi’s cheeks, and then the other.

Rumi’s hands settled on her waist, the touch firm but not imprisoning. Indulgent, and intimate. Close. Her eyes fluttered closed as Zoey’s soft trail of kisses went up along her jaw, across her cheekbone, and the final one was a ghostly touch on the very corner of her mouth.

It was Zoey’s clear message. Last chance, before everything changes forever. Last chance, before no going back. Last chance for you not to risk breaking my heart later. Last chance to decide not to possibly trust me with your own.

Rumi smiled, and that was all the final permission Zoey needed, as she cupped Rumi’s face and neck, and kissed her, deeply and indulgently. Zoey pressed forward into Rumi, encouraging Rumi to slide her hands around onto her back, and she gasped in approval when Rumi gripped tighter.

Unlike with Mira, there was no wild whirlwind that Rumi was in control of. She was not a force unleashing onto the world. Instead, Zoey held her, tasted her, and enjoyed her. Patience balanced the scales perfectly with passion, as Rumi nipped Zoey’s bottom lip between her teeth, and Zoey responded with a whine and a scratch along Rumi’s neck and down to the loose collar of her shirt.

While Mira kissed like she was ravenous, Zoey kissed like she was basking in it, coaxing out every small noise from Rumi that she could manage as she raised up on her knees so she towered over her and had the leverage to control the kiss and force Rumi to tilt her chin up. Rumi groaned when Zoey’s tongue teased her bottom lip, and she happily opened her mouth, feeling Zoey’s smile.

As a celebrity, Rumi was used to people enjoying her in the usual capacity. Fans enjoyed her music and attention, interviewers enjoyed her charisma, the media enjoyed her spark. But this? This was being enjoyed in a way that made her feel flayed to the atom, and Zoey was pressing open-mouthed kisses to each particle she was made up of.

Slowly, taking the time to indulge in the dance of it, Zoey lowered back down so that Rumi’s aggression could begin to match Zoey’s control, and Rumi growled into her mouth when she was able to grab Zoey and pull her in tight, plundering her mouth with a neediness that had Zoey loudly moan.

The sound was dangerous, because Rumi immediately wanted, no, needed to hear it again, and she bit down on Zoey’s plump bottom lip and gave it a stinging tug, releasing it with a pop that had Zoey’s head fall back as her hips shifted and she ground on Rumi’s lap in a way that had them both shudder.

Rumi’s marks rippled with silver light as Zoey whined, and Zoey took her hand from Rumi’s neck so she could scratch her nails down the lines of her bicep, leaving trails of pain and radiant blue.

The ripping overstimulation had Rumi’s eyelids flutter and she lurched forward, desperately trying to capture Zoey’s lips again and whining pitifully when Zoey pulled up to torturously evade her.

Zoey chuckled, her eyes dark and hungry as she reached down to pull up the bottom of Rumi’s shirt, and ran her hand along Rumi’s ribs, coaxing out the markings normally pale and hidden. Sure enough, trails of blue burst into life underneath her nails, decorating Rumi’s abs and the dip of her hips like curving vines, and Rumi squirmed and gasped as the barrage of stimulation drove her mind into a white hunger.

Underneath her touch, Rumi was writhing, her kiss-swollen lips parted in desperate panting breaths, and Zoey beamed at the sight as she wrapped Rumi’s hair around her fist and pulled her head up and back so Zoey could kiss her again.

Zoey broke off the kiss after only a few moments, just long enough to leave Rumi swaying again, and ran the tip of her tongue along Rumi’s jaw and down her neck, stopping with her lips directly on Rumi’s pulse point. “It’s okay. You’re okay. I’ve got you. I’ve got you, Rumi. I promise.”

Before there could even be a response from Rumi, Zoey parted her lips and bit down.

The sound that ripped from Rumi’s chest was barely human at all, a snarl and a moan so violently intertwined in the one breath that her entire body heaved as it expelled it, and it hit the Honmoon like a boulder into the ocean. Every mark, every inch of the pattern along Rumi’s body erupted into scorching blue light at the same time as the Honmoon itself rippled, and for a moment the entire room was blinding.

But neither of them even paid it much mind, as Zoey released Rumi’s neck and quickly claimed her lips, gasping into the kiss when Rumi’s hands found their way under the back of her shirt and her nails scratched into Zoey’s back, trying to find purchase.

Around them, the Honmoon sang, high and pure in its choir, before jittering and fading from sight when footsteps came down the hall.

Zoey and Rumi immediately broke off the kiss, both of them looking over at the door as the footsteps stopped in front of it, and it opened with an easy nudge, with Mira sticking her head around.

Unlike the previous night, where Rumi had been on top and so had been in a position to scramble away and curl into a ball, Zoey had no such panic response, remaining partially on top of Rumi while also sitting back and giving Mira a sheepish grin when Mira raised a dry, judgmental eyebrow.

Mira clicked her tongue. “Huh, so that’s what it feels like.”

Underneath Zoey, Rumi was quickly running her hands over her face, as if to rub the fog off her mind. It didn’t work, she was still violently aware of Zoey’s body even if she wasn’t pulled against her anymore, and her patterns still shimmering didn’t help her case either.

“Mira! Shit, I’m sorry.”

Mira’s gaze flicked back and forth between the two women, alternating between taking in Rumi’s state, and having a silent conversation with Zoey that ultimately boiled down to ‘Seriously? Like, seriously?’ ‘Yes and I’m not sorry.’

“Yeah, you look positively contrite, Rumi.” Mira snorted, raising her eyebrow, before sighing with a smirk when Rumi blushed and looked down. “I’m teasing. But…I definitely think it’s time we all talked. Preferably before you two bang in my bed. Come on, I cooked.”

With a final look between the two of them, her eyebrow still up, Mira rolled her eyes and left, leaving the door open behind her as a clear instruction.

Zoey slid off Rumi’s lap entirely, and onto her feet, adjusting her shirt and the shorts she’d been asleep in so she didn’t look too much like she’d just been making out. Rumi was much slower as she stood, every movement guarded and anxious as she slid out of the bed as well and onto her feet.

The two of them simply looked at each other for a quiet moment, Zoey smiling reassuringly while Rumi’s nerves quickly overpowered her calm facade, and Zoey extended a hand for Rumi to take.

“Come on. She’s right. We all need to talk.”

Rumi nodded, and took Zoey’s hand, relaxing slightly when Zoey gave a squeeze, and then let Zoey guide her out and into the hall towards the kitchen.

Chapter Text

As Rumi tentatively followed Zoey down the hall, gently pulled along by the hand that Zoey was holding almost delicately in her own grip, she glanced out of the massive windows and to the purple sunset. The lights in the hallway and the living room were dimmed, the window shutters up, bathing the entire penthouse in the gentle, fading glow signaling the end of the first day of their hiatus.

The first day of three months, and everything had already gone to shit, and once again it was because of her. Once again, her friends had to catch her when she crumbled at the worst possible time.

At least this time she wasn’t ending the world.

Rumi winced, placing her free hand over her heart to try to settle it as she and Zoey emerged into the open space of the rest of the penthouse.

The scent of dinner hit her immediately, with spice and red meats being Mira’s specialty and preference, and it wafted through the air in tones that had Zoey humming eagerly and her grip on Rumi’s hand tightening. All three of them were good cooks, they took turns, but they also all agreed silently that Mira was the best of them. An unspoken title that she had always worn very, very smugly.

From the scents coming from the stove and the dining table, it was obvious she’d gone all out and had likely been cooking for quite a while, and Rumi took in a deep breath through her nose and let herself smile.

Everyone showed their love in their own ways.

Since the ceiling lights were dimmed, the shadows of the sunset were already growing across the tiles, and Mira had lit a few candles on the dining table to keep them at bay without disrupting the dusk’s glow. It turned the entire space into a coalescing mirage of purples and golds as the sunset danced with firelight, and the scent of spice fit perfectly into whatever ambience Mira had been going for.

Whatever the ambition was, she had very much succeeded, and Rumi felt her shoulders unclench without any input on her part, a gentle hum settling on her skin as she released Zoey’s hand as soon as Mira came into view again.

Mira had just finished setting the table, placing down everyone’s bowls in their usual spots, and she struck a match to light the final candle in the middle of the table. The black wax candle and matching ornamental candlestick were both from Mira’s personal collection that normally never left her room, and the fact she’d brought them out for this, whatever this was, had something in Rumi’s chest pulse.

Once Rumi and Zoey were halfway across the room towards the table, with Zoey skipping ahead with an eager hum, Mira finally looked over at them. Even in her most casual clothes, just a basic band shirt and jeans, she always stuck an imposing silhouette, with the match still burning between her fingers and her eyes sharp. She raised her eyebrow at Zoey, before all of her attention immediately went to Rumi.

Under the calm, quiet stare from her friend, Rumi nervously shoved her hands into the pockets of her pajama shorts, and gave a timid smile as she reached the table and stopped in front of Mira, with no choice but to allow the other girl to study her with calm eyes and a relaxed turn to her lips.

The match burnt out in Mira’s grip just before it would have started to burn her, the final wisps of smoke dancing up between them, and Mira rolled the charcoal between her fingers as she studied whatever Rumi was going to allow her to see in her eyes. There was no judgement, no edge to the scrutiny, simply a gentle consideration.

Neither of them said anything, Mira blinking slowly while Rumi fought the instinct to bite her lip and chew it, instead managing a small smile. Mira smiled back, placing the matchstick on the table next to her without looking.

It was the sound of Zoey’s chair scraping back that moved them past it, Mira breaking the eye contact and tapping her hand on the back of Rumi’s chair as she circled around to her own, pulling her chair out with her foot and dropping into it with a grunt of relief.

But Rumi took a moment longer to move, simply looking between her friends, before pulling up where the loose collar of her top had started to slip loose, and sinking into her own chair. Zoey and Mira both smiled at her, Zoey’s wide and open while Mira’s was far smaller yet just as sincere.

“...thanks, Mira. You didn’t have to do all of this.” Rumi said softly, using her head to gesture around the table.

Mira shrugged as if it wasn’t a big deal, but her nonchalance melted away, and she gave a wink and a low chuckle as she spun her chopsticks between her fingers. “Yeah, I know. Eat it anyway.”

Not needing to be told twice, Zoey immediately dug in, definitely feeling the effects of missing dinner the previous night, and she let out a moan that was far enough into the domain of inappropriate that Rumi’s grip on her chopsticks tightened until her knuckles were white.

Mira, for her own part, simply raised an eyebrow at Zoey, and her voice came out dry. “Thanks for the compliment.”

Completely unashamed of the reaction, Zoey hummed happily as she ate, her mouth too full to speak, and she wiggled in her chair to a beat only she could hear, her shoulders bouncing lightly to it.

With Zoey already lost to the food and unlikely to remember the two of them existed until her bowl was at least half empty, Rumi and Mira looked at each other with the same amused glimmer to both of their eyes. Mira’s lips ticked up in the corners, relaxed and completely content, and it was enough for Rumi’s next breath to come out slower.

Quietly, still unsure and tucked into herself, Rumi began to eat, and it prompted Mira to start as well.

It was easily one of the quietest meals the three of them had ever eaten together, matched only by times they had been particularly exhausted after a show, and Rumi’s eyes stayed glued to her food as she ate almost robotically, her mind far away and her hands slightly trembling from the nerves.

She knew that as soon as dinner was over and the dishwasher stacked, it was time to talk. Pillows and blankets from her and Zoey’s beds were already stacked on their massive couch to make it as comfortable for all three of them as possible for however long it would take. A silent message from Mira that the dinner was the bribe to lure everyone out, and it was a bribe that always worked.

The meal was over far too quickly for Rumi’s liking, even though she spent whole minutes simply pushing the food around inside her bowl in thought as she tried to prepare herself for whatever was coming next.

Because how the hell was she even supposed to begin, with it? Every time she apologized, they told her not to. Every time she confessed she didn’t know what was happening, they said they had their own theory. They weren’t mad, hurt, or upset by the fact that Rumi felt like her entire existence was unravelling right in front of them with no way to stop it.

So what the hell was she meant to say? What was she meant to do?

But eventually their bowls were empty, with Zoey volunteering to be the one to take them all to the kitchen and deal with them, and Mira gestured towards the couch with her head for Rumi to follow.

Rumi hesitated, every engrained instinct she had telling her to run, to hide, but once again her patterns betrayed her when they shimmered their low purple, too fast for her to pull her sleeves down and try to hide. The light was enough in the shadows of dusk that both of the others noticed, Zoey’s head whipping in her direction from the kitchen sink while Mira thinned her lips from where she was leaning against the back of the couch and waiting.

Whatever unique language it was that her patterns spoke, Mira and Zoey were starting to learn it, and Mira sighed and shook her head gently. “You’re not in any trouble. We’ll keep telling you that until you believe it. But we do all need to talk. The longer we put it off, the messier things will probably get.”

Zoey laughed in agreement as she wiped her hands dry and circled around the kitchen island to hop down the single step into their living room and was then the first to dive bomb onto the couch, immediately wriggling into her spot and giving Rumi a kind smile as she tapped her hand on the cushion Rumi always claimed as hers.

“Agreed. Because, speaking for myself, every time you kiss me I’m going to kiss back, so we should probably iron it all out.”

The room was immediately glowing as Rumi’s patterns rushed a light blue like that of a summer sky, her eyes widening and her cheeks burning hot at the sparkling in Zoey’s eyes. None of the marks on her neck and face were out, with only the permanent lingering curves on her arms and collarbone there to shine, but it was still enough for Mira to close one eye and squint the other at the glare.

Rumi stammered out an apology as she looked away, closing her eyes and clenching her fists by her sides as she tried to concentrate. But every inch of her skin was tingling with the same electric hum that Zoey’s touch had left lines of earlier, so even as the glow faded back down to a gentle, white shimmer she shivered at the static.

With Rumi’s eyes closed, she didn’t see the look that Mira gave Zoey, raising her eyebrow and scowling at the shorter girl with deadpan frustration that had no heat. Zoey shrugged, raising her own eyebrows in response.

‘Like you’re any different.’

Mira’s scowl deepened, but she also had no retort, so she simply rolled her eyes and looked away, causing Zoey to hum quietly in confirmation and look back at Rumi again.

Once Rumi could feel that her patterns were mostly extinguished again, she opened her eyes, and gave a shaky nod. “...oh. I see.”

Zoey grinned with another gentle hum, and once again patted Rumi’s usual cushion, smiling wider when Rumi obeyed and circled around the couch to lower herself down with far more grace than Zoey had done.

Tucking her legs under herself shyly, Rumi was silent as Mira sat down too and got comfortable, the three of them able to face each other in a triangle without any part of them hanging off the massive couch that had absolutely been worth the expense as one of the first luxuries they’d bought for themselves.

It was their sanctuary, safe and home, and Rumi tried to let the calm strength of that soak into her muscles as she looked between where Zoey and Mira’s attention was entirely on her.

But she had no idea where to start, and she winced helplessly and tucked her hands together on her lap. “...I’m not sure what to say, other than to apologize again. But you guys keep telling me not to do that, so…”

“Yeah, because we don’t want you to say sorry.” Mira sighed, readjusting so she was properly tucked into a wall of pillows. Her normal posture was to cross her arms, but she deliberately chose not to, instead letting her hands sit loose on her thighs. “Besides, do you actually regret it? Or are you just saying sorry so that nobody is mad at you?”

“Mira…” Zoey’s gentle scolding got a scoff, but Mira did let her take over. She smiled at Rumi softly, reaching out with a foot and nudging Rumi’s knee with it to draw her eye contact. “Look, we talked about it in the car last night, but it’s not fair to only talk about it when you aren’t there. So, yeah, do you actually regret it?”

Even though her mouth immediately opened with an answer on her tongue, Rumi cut it off when Zoey’s eyes softened and Mira’s eyebrow went up, and she instead fell quiet. Because it was the sort of question that deserved a proper answer.

But what the hell was the honest answer?

Neither of them had been planned decisions. Especially not Mira. She hadn’t been thinking, hadn’t been planning, she had simply just… acted. Because she wasn’t a wordsmith, like Zoey. Because she wasn’t calm and cool, like Mira. Because there was a monster in her skin that screamed at her to act.

It screamed louder and louder, feeling more and more, until the room was spinning and her skin was splitting and she wasn’t sure whether to sob, howl, or snarl. It had fangs and claws and burning eyes, and nothing made it stop. Even in that moment, sitting on the couch in the low light of late dusk with only candlelight to see by, she could feel it inside. It was a rumble instead of a roar, but it was there.

She was strong. She knew that she was strong. But she had found her limit, and her edges had burst not in bloodshed, as she had always feared. Instead she had reached for the source of the final straw, and grabbed.

Without permission, without warning, and without control or composure. Simply just greedy, selfish, self-indulgent want. The want for more, the want for what was burning in her cells to get out and for something else to replace it, something that Mira’s firm words had been pledging, something that Zoey’s gentle eyes had been offering.

Rumi had only ever mastered how to run and hide. Now that neither of those were an option any longer, not if she wanted to keep every promise the three of them had made to each other after the Idol Awards, what was she capable of doing now? Why had that been her new instinct?

And the worst part? The part that had even her bones hot and scratched?

“No.” Rumi’s voice was a ghost of itself, and Mira and Zoey watched as her patterns lit up a gentle purple and grew longer, with winding lines tracing down her arms like fine calligraphy until they reached her wrists. “I don’t. And I don’t know why.”

The other two looked at each other with a rapid flick of their eyes, neither of them turning their heads, and the silent conversation was rapid. Mira shook her head in a miniscule movement, and Zoey nodded in agreement.

“Well, that’s somewhere to start, I guess. So if you don’t regret doing it, why did you do it? What does it feel like?” Zoey tilted her head, something knowing in the glimmer of her eyes. “What you’re going through, I mean. When you lose control.”

Zoey had meant it as a sincere question, her gaze almost academic in its scrutiny and curiosity, but Rumi still had to look away and down at her lap, tapping her hands together between her thighs. Because it wasn’t an easy question to answer, or even to think about.

If she started thinking about it, she’d start to feel it. She would have to face the fact that it wasn’t a problem that would go away if she simply ignored it for long enough. The flame would lower, but the fuel would linger, and it was lingering. Coal and oil stacked high in reserve inside of her chest. Something radioactive in her chest that had her tasting metallic acid on her tongue when she licked her lips.

It was in her sweat, her saliva, her tears, and if she shed blood she was certain she’d see it in the crimson. Every muscle bulging and full, her nerves sparking with more than just proteins to flood her brain with something. An instinct older than her ability to soothe it with a balm.

Just thinking about it was stoking it, and she squeezed her eyes shut tighter as a ripple went over her body, silver light coaxing through her patterns like molten steel filling a mould. Every shiver was more violent than the last as she tried her best to study the pit without touching it, afraid to disturb the waters and send them rippling, but just the wash of her breath was enough to make it shift.

Mira and Zoey gave each other a concerned, wary look as Rumi’s patterns gradually emerged, and Zoey reached over to grab Rumi’s wrist gently and squeeze it reassuringly. Rumi sucked in a shaky breath at the touch, Zoey’s touch feeling as hot as an inferno, but it was better than the drowning.

Opening her eyes again, Rumi shook her head to dismiss her friends’ concerns, and began bouncing her foot to try and vent the jitters. It wouldn’t work, but it was nice to pretend. A fool’s hope that something as human as fidgeting could ever save her.

“I don’t even know how to put it into words. All I know is how to feel it. It’s like the world has crawled inside of me, stretching me, but nothing in me is tearing. Instead it’s just pressure, heat, and life. It’s like a constellation is finding new gravity inside of my nerves.” Rumi pushed Zoey’s hand away so she could quickly stand, every step agitated as she paced back and forth across the length of their living room, staring down at the white rug and clenching her fists by her sides.

It was so hot. Why did she have to burn so hot? Even her loose sleep shirt felt stifling, and her shorts suddenly felt like they were so tight they might cut off her circulation. Or like her own body heat might begin to burn the soft fabric and melt them away.

Deep breaths. Deep breaths. Deep breaths.

“It’s everything. Everything. I feel it when we take photos with fans on the street. When we do press. It sits underneath my skin. Chewing and scratching. And god, when we perform? I feel like I’m going to die.” Rumi came to a halt so suddenly that she swayed on her feet, and spun on her heel to face where her friends had been watching and listening, Zoey’s face utterly enraptured while Mira instead looked thoughtful. “But it’s not a bad death! It feels… good. The best kind of death there could ever be. Drowning in something that swallowing mouthfuls of is divine, even as I sink.”

Rumi’s patterns flashed a pure white, blinding and instantaneous, before colors finally began to appear within the shimmering depths of them. Purples and oranges fought over her like amethyst at war with amber, turning the curves of her markings to stained glass as she squeezed her eyes shut and growled with a rumble that had the Honmoon make its first appearance, rippling beneath her bare feet in gentle, calming blues.

It didn’t work, but the support was nice. Even if Rumi wasn’t looking, she could hear the song of it lapping at her soul as if she were standing in the shallows at the beach.

“But the worst part?” Rumi whimpered, the patterns along her biceps rushing so vibrantly purple that she looked almost royal, and the thick curving lines along her thighs finally lit up, changing from pale white scars to neon. Shame wrapped around her with barbed chains that bit into her and anchored tight. “The absolute worst part?”

Through the fabric of her shirt, a glow began to break through as markings crawled out from her collarbone and wound down her ribcage to wrap around her hips and waist, spiderwebbing along her spine. But while the patterns along her back burst with purple, her chest glowed orange, with sunlight gold crawling up her neck and stopping at her jaw.

Because she wasn’t just ashamed. She was angry.

“...the worst part is that it’s not enough. I want more. I want so, so much more.”

The words ripped out of her throat in a growl that had the Honmoon flash beneath her, the ripple spreading out across the entire room like a soundwave, carrying away the sheer power in Rumi’s snarl on its tide.

Mira and Zoey weren’t so protected, the bestial growl striking them hard and slithering into their ears to take root inside of them. Mira grunted as quietly as she could manage, clenching her jaw as the echo rebounded around her insides, but Zoey lurched as it scratched nails down her spine and dug into her ribcage. Almost like she’d swallowed it.

As something in Rumi lashed out at the unheard tune of the world, something in her friends answered.

It was something they’d felt before, and once Mira managed a deep breath again she looked over at Zoey, who was wringing her hands together on her lap, and they gave each other another nod.

Rumi didn’t notice, her eyes still closed and her hands clenched by her sides, and she spun on her heel again and stormed over to the massive windows overlooking the city. Opening her eyes again, she listened to the world as only Hunters could, and looked at the Honmoon blanketing their world with a vibrancy and strength it had never known in all of its history.

The song inside of her chest, the one that gave her the voice that had helped to save the world, tried to fall into harmony with the Honmoon to calm her, but it was drowned out by a symphony of howling beasts and screaming guitars, and Rumi rested her forehead on the cool glass with a quiet thunk.

Behind her, there was a quiet rustle as Zoey stood up, and padded across the rug and then the tiles until she was close enough to put her hand on Rumi’s shoulder. She tried her best to avoid touching any of the patterns, but they were currently so wide and so intricate that it was impossible, and her fingertips ghosted along glowing gold.

Under the light, ghostly touch, the markings glistened like glass in the rain, drops of shimmering light blue running through them but drowned out by amber. Whatever balm Zoey was hoping to be, it wasn’t enough right now, and she sighed sadly and pressed a quick, gentle kiss to Rumi’s back through her shirt.

“Are you okay…?” Zoey asked in a whisper, before wincing at the stupid question and shaking her head. “Sorry, I know you’re not. Forget I asked.”

Rumi shook her own head, and reached up to place her own hand on top of where Zoey’s was resting, running her own fingers across the back of Zoey’s palm. The tips of her nails were longer, and definitely darker than her nail polish had made them. Enough of a change that Zoey’s eyes widened when she noticed.

But despite how she was shining bright enough to have the ceiling shifting and churning as if kissed by borealis, and the slightest hint of claws teased the end of her fingers, Rumi was otherwise able to remain perfectly still as she looked out across the city.

“It’s okay. I’ll be okay. Once I figure out how to get it out, I’ll be okay.”

Mira hummed from the couch, standing as well and joining the other two by the window, standing directly at Rumi’s side instead of slightly behind like Zoey was, and she put her hands in the pockets of her jeans as she watched the soothing, dancing surface of the Honmoon as well.

“What if you can’t find a way on your own?” Mira asked calmly, still staring straight ahead, and she kept her face as impassive as possible when Rumi gave her a confused glance.

Rumi blinked at Mira’s tone, more than familiar enough with her friend to hear when Mira was asking a question that confused her, and when she was asking one she had a theory about. It wasn’t her asking to be condescending or patronizing, that tone was its own delightful, dry pitch. Instead it was more like an offer that Rumi could accept or ignore.

When there was no reaction to the question from Zoey behind her apart from a slight tightening of her grip on Rumi’s shoulder, Rumi turned her head around and frowned. Zoey gave her a small smile, gentle in the corners of her lips and kind in the rest, and pressed a soft kiss to the back of Rumi’s shoulder.

The surprise and confusion was enough for the bright gold light to subside somewhat, no longer dominating the room and instead settling within her skin. Rumi tilted her head and raised an eyebrow. “...okay, are you two finally going to let me in on whatever on earth you’ve been dancing around since last night?”

Mira sighed, clicking her tongue a single time like a gunshot, and turned to face Rumi properly, her expression and posture both calm and open. “You need to answer something first, but then yeah. Sure.”

“What is it?”

“Did indulging in me help, last night?” Mira asked bluntly, raising an eyebrow just as it impacted Rumi’s brain and had her widen her eyes, and Mira then pointedly flicked her gaze to Zoey. “And Zoey, before dinner?”

All shades of color washed out of Rumi’s patterns as if water had been poured over her, dripping down and back under her skin to leave her a clear, pearlescent white as she stared at Mira dumbly with wide eyes, her mouth dropping open.

Mira didn’t break eye contact, simply raising her eyebrow higher, and Zoey quietly stepped around so she was properly on Rumi’s other side, close enough that Rumi would feel her body heat but not so close that she was touching. The movement caught Rumi’s attention, her head whipping around so she could stare at Zoey, and Zoey simply smiled and gave a sheepish, helpless shrug.

The Honmoon danced beneath the trio, rippling beneath their feet as they stood close enough to each other that all three of their songs were an orchestra for the Honmoon to cherish, and it seemed to wait with bated breath as Rumi’s song began to shift and change, violin starting to break through the howling.

Silent and dumbfounded as her attention kept flicking back and forth between her two friends, Rumi’s patterns remained white even as her face began to turn pink from a very human embarrassment at the bluntly delivered reminder of both of her impulsive and instinctual indiscretions, and she eventually couldn’t handle either eye contact anymore and instead looked straight ahead.

But underneath the embarrassment that had her cheeks hot, a low purring in her blood told her that the question mattered, and she closed her eyes to think. Even though the question had been asked bluntly, with a similar straightforwardness that Mira used when asking what was for dinner or what time a taxi was arriving, everything in Rumi’s skin knew that it was different.

So she put a hand over her chest, kept her eyes closed, and listened.

Last night after the show had been a violent, burning inferno. A radiance that would not be contained, and that she could not bleed out or sweat onto the gym floor no matter what she did. Four hours of pushing herself through a workout that would break any non-hunter athlete, long past the point even Mira and Zoey would have tapped out, and it had barely been a drop in the bucket.

From the moment she’d stepped offstage, she’d been so large that the universe’s gravity had shifted around her pull, turning her from a person into something more. Something giant enough to suck even a spirit as vibrant as Mira’s crashing into her orbit.

Because then Mira had fought her, and lost to her, and held her. Whispering such sweet, reassuring, terrifying things. Every word that could refute every whisper in Rumi’s head that sounded like Celine and like herself, for over twenty years, dispelled by Mira’s call.

Needle by needle, Mira had poked holes into the walls around Rumi’s insides that had been stretched so taut that they’d been as thin as paper, done with a kind smile and honest eyes.

Rumi had burst, and crashed, and Mira had taken it. God, she hadn’t just taken it, she’d grabbed for it, sinking her own nails into Rumi and pulling her closer, drinking everything Rumi poured into her with shifts of her hips and smiles into every kiss.

Every touch had been new to Rumi, pure instinct guiding her every twitch. Animal instinct, sure. But also something more. Something deeper, darker, and far hungrier. Something that howled and screamed and wanted to sink its teeth into the world and tear chunks out of it. But instead of drowning in it all, Mira had dived willingly.

Half an hour later, Rumi had been sitting on the roof after teleporting away in horror at what she’d done, and for the first time since sunset she’d been able to think clearly and sit still. The fire in her blood hadn’t extinguished, but it had calmed enough she could exist without melting everything around her. Rumi had burst, overfilled and overflowing, and Mira had feasted on it. Mira had swallowed the lava, taken the heat and light and earth-shattering power, and smiled, leaving Rumi able to breathe even if just for a little while. Able to sleep once they all got home.

And Zoey? Holding her, cuddling into her, tracing blue fire onto her skin in the calm darkness, both of them whispering so as not to break the serenity of just laying together. Saying yes when Rumi asked, and grabbed, and needed. The gaping hole inside of Rumi’s chest had seemed bottomless, the vacuum of it crushing her.

For her entire life, Rumi had never let herself need other people. Even if she managed to get rid of her patterns, part of her had known that by then it would surely be too late for her to learn how to do it. Rumi was deeply self-sufficient and independent, she’d always prided herself on it. It was those qualities that made her a great leader, and a great hunter.

No matter the things she had wanted, there had never been anything she had needed.

The days she watched how easily Mira and Zoey touched and hugged, or she passed couples on the street holding hands as if it was the most natural thing in the world. Nights undoing her braid where the ghostly memory of Celine brushing her hair as a child, before her patterns grew too large, would haunt her and drive nails into her skull. All those days and nights were passing moments, pushed aside.

For her entire life, that had been her reality; there was a demon in her, and demons felt nothing. Maybe once her patterns were gone she’d be able to do it. But until then, until she was a human and nothing else, she didn’t need anyone or anything.

But now??

Now there had been Zoey, sitting on her lap and cupping her face in her hands, staring straight into her eyes with nothing but adoration and respect, and she had made Rumi need. It had been too much, the gaping emptiness scraping her insides for substance and running out of it, and when Rumi had grabbed for her and pleaded, Zoey had only hesitated long enough to check for consent before giving.

Just as Mira had drank from Rumi the previous night, Zoey had let Rumi gorge herself on as much as Zoey would give her, and Zoey’s offerings had been endless and pure, without resentment or judgement. When Rumi had grabbed, Zoey had leaned in. When Rumi had bitten, Zoey bit back.

When Rumi had cried, Zoey had kissed her tears away, the patterns on her cheeks be damned.

Rumi had needed for the first time in her life, and Zoey had given everything and then offered more, and Rumi had felt that Zoey had an infinity to give if Rumi asked for it.

A pathetic whine crept out of Rumi’s lungs and through her slightly parted lips as her chest squirmed and her pulse hammered between her ears, making even her eyes throb, and she buried her face in her hands and groaned into her palms in pure, absolute confusion and frustration.

The sound had Zoey place her hand on Rumi’s back, rubbing soft circles between her shoulderblades and trying her best to ignore how Rumi’s entire spine immediately burst into a blinding bright blue even through her shirt. But Rumi was so sensitive that the fabric was no barrier at all, and her knees almost gave out as she choked on her own breath at the wash of electricity that shot along her spine and sent stars in her vision.

Zoey immediately retracted her touch with an apology on her lips, but blinked and froze with a hovering hand when a low growl rumbled in Rumi’s chest from the loss of contact, and she raised her eyebrows high when Rumi immediately clamped her hands over her mouth in mortification at her own sound.

Light blue rippled along every curve on her skin for a single echo before fading again and white returned, and Rumi looked over at Zoey in absolute horror. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry! I have no idea what that was.”

“I…uhh, don’t apologize! Do not apologize.” Zoey gulped, her eyes still wide, and she shuffled awkwardly for a moment. “Just a thing.”

From Rumi’s other side, Mira snorted. “Yeah, please don’t. That was kind of hot.”

Rumi immediately spun to stare at Mira in shock, and Mira shrugged with a smirk, completely unashamed. It left with absolutely nothing for Rumi to reply to without surely turning bright red, so she huffed in embarrassment and turned away, staring straight ahead and shoving her hands into the pockets of her shorts.

Slowly, the light of her patterns dimmed down to almost nothing, returning to just looking like slightly glowing white scars across her body. The shape of them lingered, taunting Rumi’s soul with the threat of their shine. But her human side was too embarrassed to listen to the demon for now, as her face remained bright red and her attention stayed on the window.

With Rumi taking a few moments to be absolutely embarrassed and sulking about it, Mira took the opening to look at Zoey over Rumi’s shoulders, and she raised a questioning eyebrow.

Zoey nodded hesitantly, then gave a questioning look of her own. ‘Do you wanna take it?’

In response, Mira shook her head in as miniscule a movement she could make while still being discernible. ‘Absolutely not my department.’

Zoey rolled her eyes with a huff, but she couldn’t exactly refute the point. Mira had many wonderful qualities, but she was not particularly delicate, and Rumi being a fragile person in the slightest was still very, very new.

In the almost decade the three of them had known each other, Zoey could count on one hand the number of times she’d seen Rumi cry or lose her composure, and three of them had been in just the last few months.

So, carefully putting her words together and keeping her voice soft, Zoey stepped around so she could see Rumi’s face. “So, what’s the answer? Did we help?”

After a few moments of absolute stillness, Rumi’s eyes tightly closed, she managed a single nod that seemed like it took an immense amount of physical effort to make happen. The confession being out had Rumi’s shoulders drop, and the lack of any judgement or mocking had her open her eyes again, and staring into Zoey’s gentle gaze.

Zoey smiled, trying to keep her expression gentle, but she couldn’t keep the delighted sparkle out of her eyes, the tender relief in them pure and potent enough that Rumi smiled back with a wobbling bottom lip.

But that was the easy part, and Zoey took in a slow breath to brace herself, biting her bottom lip to chew it for a moment. “...I think we should sit down for the next part. Probably easier.”

Rumi frowned at the nervousness suddenly infecting Zoey’s composure, and she took a wary step back, crossing her arms over her chest as she looked between the concerned expressions on both of her friends’ faces. “Why? What is it? What do you think is wrong with me??”

“Nothing’s wrong with you, Rumi. Nothing at all.” Zoey shook her head quickly, her eyes sincere, and she kept her hands by her sides and her voice kind. “We just don’t think you’re gonna take our theory very well, at first.”

Gesturing to the couch again with a slightly pleading smile, Zoey winced when Rumi didn’t budge, and she looked to Mira for help. But Mira was quiet as she watched Rumi with a thoughtful twist to the corner of her mouth, and concerned eyes.

The edge suddenly in all of Rumi’s joints was one that Mira recognized all too well, the ghostly sensation of it shifting through her own muscles as she watched Rumi narrow her eyes in caution.

Mira scrunched up her mouth as Zoey took another step forward, and followed with a step of her own as she thought. Zoey was in dangerous waters. She just didn’t know it. But Mira could feel what was coming.

‘Zoey was treating Rumi like a wounded animal. If someone treats someone else like a wounded animal at the wrong time, well, they’ll bite like one…’

So, taking in a breath and letting it out in a quiet huff to brace herself for whatever might follow, Mira cleared her throat to steal Rumi’s attention from Zoey. “So, you know how when demons fed off souls, most of the power went straight to Gwi-Ma and they only kept a little bit for themselves?”

Zoey immediately shot Mira an exasperated glare that was completely and utterly ignored by the woman, who was instead watching Rumi with honest eyes and thin lips as Rumi blinked in surprise at the question.

After only a few seconds of thinking over it, the slightest tinge of purple began to rise to the surface of Rumi’s patterns, and they started to shine once again. Not brightly, but a low glimmer of toxic, insidious purple. Rumi was not stupid, so she forced a dry swallow as she nodded, her own mind following the thread.

“Yeah…? Yes.”

Mira let out another slow breath through her thinned lips, slightly pursing them to do so. “And how we can call out to the life force of those who listen to our music, and channel it into the Honmoon to power it?”

“Y-yes?”

The look on Rumi’s face had started slowly shifting from caution to fear, her eyes widening and her arms tightening across her chest as she looked between where Mira was talking calmly and softly, and Zoey was starting to silently fidget. The fact that Mira was the one suddenly taking charge was enough for Rumi’s nerves to spike and spark, but she didn’t interrupt.

At the anxiety suddenly riddling Rumi’s posture, Mira thinned her lips further, but she couldn’t let it deter her. It was a band-aid that needed to be ripped off, because the wound underneath it needed to be stitched. Otherwise Rumi was simply going to bleed to death without understanding.

“Well, Gwi-Ma is dead now. He can’t take any souls. And the Honmoon is permanent, it doesn’t need to be refueled anymore.” Mira finally hesitated, forced to suck in a steady breath and wet her dry lips with a flick of the tip of her tongue, even the momentary pause enough for Rumi to begin to tremble as her own mind clearly drew an array of conclusions. None of them good or kind. And Mira was sure her and Zoey’s own thought was just as bad. “But you’re half-demon, and half-hunter. So while when our audiences feed us their energy, it kind of just leaves Zoey and I...”

Mira took a slow step forward, trying her best not to break eye contact even though she desperately wanted to look for Zoey for support, especially for the final part. Swallowing a nervous lump, she flexed her hands by her sides, and gave Rumi as calm a look as she could, speaking slowly.

“Our theory is that you, being half-demon, might be…keeping it. And since none of it is going to Gwi-Ma, you’re keeping it all.”

Rumi’s spine snapped rigid, her eyes widening as far as they could go as she sucked in a gasp that caught in her lungs, sounding like a choke that wrapped around her throat and squeezed, but she didn’t speak a word, simply staring.

Slowly, crawling out like an oil spill across a crystal clear lake, a deeply toxic purple dripped into her patterns and began to spread, the color crawling out from the center of her chest. Dancing, curling lines from her shoulders crawled down the permanent lines on her biceps, and burned across the surface of her skin down to her wrists, to spread down her fingers like drops of rain trailing down a glass window.

Thick, elegant lines wrapped around her thighs, slithering out from underneath her shorts, and crisscrossed around her calves down to her ankles. With light spreading out from her in every direction at the same time, Rumi’s shadow vanished entirely, and she simply became a beacon of a radiant insidious purple.

Every rapid, panicked breath had the lines appearing on her neck and crawling up to her jaw almost look like they were moving underneath her skin, twitching on her pulse point as her heartrate skyrocketed.

By the time she finally managed to speak again, the very tips of some of the bright lines were almost tickling her lips, creeping up to wrap around her eyes and infect her eyelids as shame and fear soaked into her very soul and spread roots.

Despite her panic, her voice was a quiet rasp, her eyes wide and heartbroken as she stared at her friends. “You…think I’m eating souls? How…how could you think that?! I would never do that, even if it was possible!”

Rumi’s eyes glistened as tears beaded in the corners, and when Zoey immediately took a few steps forward in the instinct to rush forward and comfort her, Rumi stumbled back to maintain the distance, whimpering as she clamped her hands over her mouth. “Do you really think I’m just like them? Is that really what you think of me now…?”

The very thought had Zoey’s eyes widen in horror, and she reached out with a hand as if to grab onto her despite the distance between them. It was only a few feet, but it felt like a chasm across their living room, and Zoey’s face was desperate and her voice pleading as she took another few steps forward.

“No! No. That’s the difference, Rumi! You aren’t eating anything. You aren’t hurting anybody. Or stealing. Or taking. Or forcing.” Zoey exclaimed, slowly closing the distance with careful steps, slowing down or pausing with each one that had Rumi twitch or tighten up. But Rumi was listening, latching on, and Zoey begged her to listen before she spiraled. Because she knew the truth of Rumi, she always had. “They’re giving it to you. To us. Just like they always have. Willingly and lovingly.”

Rumi was still as Zoey finished approaching, and didn’t fight it when Zoey tentatively reached up with a shaking hand to take one of her wrists and pull it away from her face, cradling it in both of her own hands as if it were precious just to be able to touch Rumi at all.

With the proximity and contact allowed, Zoey’s posture slightly relaxed, but she stayed as gentle as she could as she lowered her voice and ran her fingertips over the back of Rumi’s palm lovingly. The purple in her lines stood no chance against the touch, rippling light blue with scorching fire in gentle tracings where Zoey touched, and Rumi shivered at the sparking electricity.

But she was listening, Zoey could see it in her eyes, their gazes fixed as Rumi looked at her in heartbroken desperation.

Zoey smiled kindly. “It’s just that unlike Mira and I, who can’t keep it or use it other than to channel it to the Honmoon, you can use what they gift to us. In fact, it’s kinda starting to seem like you don’t have a choice.”

A whimper escaped from Rumi’s throat as she stared into Zoey’s eyes, her own expression crumpling slightly at the reassurance, even as her rational mind began to mull over the theory and turn it around to study it.

The Hunters did fuel the Honmoon by acting as conduits for the hearts of the people who heard their songs, rousing the light in people and wrapping it around the world to protect it and keep it safe. To keep the seductive, malicious whispers of Gwi-Ma at bay and prevent him from crawling into the minds of innocent people and ruining them.

Joy, love, fulfilment, and serenity were the songs of the human heart that the Hunters were able to cradle in their hands and pour into the Honmoon. Meanwhile demons fed on any part of the spirit they could sink their claws into and rip out, flaying their prey and taking them for everything, leaving them husks of ash.

A demon’s song was seductive. It compelled worship, obedience, and intoxication, like the sirens of old. The howling call of something primal that lived inside the blood of every beast and could become powerful enough to soak into the mind like ambrosia, and turn a thinking, feeling person into something far more raw and pliable.

Rumi had seen both. She had mastered one over the course of her entire life, and felt the other residing inside of her chest. And once the Honmoon had come down, not even Mira and Zoey had been immune to a demon’s call. But Rumi had been. Gwi-Ma’s words had scratched along her patterns and attempted to wrap around her, like Jinu had said he could for any demon, but the purer, serene melody always humming inside of her had kept it at bay.

Both songs were inside of her, and she’d always known that, it was just that one only escaped her when she lost her grip on it. But did that really mean her power came from both as well? What did that mean for what she was? Was the reason it was only happening now because she’d accepted her patterns and bloodline as a part of her? Or was it just because her friends were right about it being the Honmoon sealing and Gwi-Ma’s destruction that had left the energy she channeled with nowhere to go but inside of her?

Or both? Oh god, what if it was both?

Rumi slumped, stumbling backwards and letting gravity take her when the back of her knees hit the couch and she fell, sitting on the edge of the cushion with her elbows on her thighs, and burying her face in her hands.

With Rumi lost in thought and working through the idea properly, her breaths slowing down as the despair subsided, the tension in Zoey’s shoulders completely released, and she sat down on the couch as well. Close enough that Rumi could reach out and take her hand if she wanted, but far enough away not to crowd her.

Meanwhile Mira stayed standing, taking a moment to half-turn and look out of the window again, gazing at the Honmoon blanketing the city. Vibrant and strong, it was a permanent fixture now, never a crack or a loose thread. Even if Gwi-Ma somehow returned, there would be no breaking it now.

Yet despite their victory, their performances continued. Their lives continued. They could retire now, if they wanted. They certainly had the money for it, if they wanted to just fade away into obscurity and live quiet, content lives. Yet it wasn’t an idea they’d ever entertained. It had been a given that they would keep going.

Because this was what they were born to do, and there was no greater joy than that of an artist living for their craft, and being able to do so every single day. They were performers. That was, at their core, what they were. Underneath being Hunters, that was always the heart of it. They were dancers, singers, and idols in the truest sense of that unique place in the spotlight.

Nobody, nobody, wore it better than Rumi did. That was why she was the leader, and why that fact had never bothered Mira in the slightest, and she knew it had never bothered Zoey either.

Mira hummed to herself as she looked out over the city, speaking just loud enough for the others to hear without having to turn her head. “There’s something kind of beautiful about it, in my opinion. The joy we give people, the joy that overflows out of them because of us, literally lives inside you.”

It was far more poetry than Mira usually ever spoke with, and it stuck out enough that Rumi raised her face from her hands and looked over at her friend, vulnerable when she replied. “...you really think so?”

Humming again as she nodded, Mira finally turned to face the others, crossing her arms over her chest and leaning back to slouch against the glass. “I’m pretty sure the Honmoon thinks so too. Instead of punishing you. It’s been trying to help you.”

When Mira jerked a thumb over her shoulder to point out over the city, Zoey blinked as she realized, and she sucked in her own breath. “Holy shit, Mira’s right. It even helped us to find you last night, carrying your song to us. It woke me up to draw me down to the gym in the first place. You were overwhelmed, and so it called us to you. To help you. To be there.”

The very thought had Rumi’s patterns shimmer once more, the purple still present in them churning under the surface as splashes of light blue and vibrant pink swirled over them like brushstrokes of glowing paint, and her face grew warm at the sincere, loving looks that both of her friends were quietly giving her.

When Zoey slid her hand over to place it on Rumi’s knee, Rumi didn’t fight it, instead reaching down and taking Zoey’s hand in her own to squeeze. “But what does any of that say about me? Why are you both so okay with this idea??”

That answer was simple, and Zoey stood up once more, tugging on Rumi’s hand to guide her to rise and follow her back over to the window. Rumi did so, following silently in confusion at the sheer certainty on Zoey’s face and the curiosity on Mira’s at whatever Zoey was thinking.

All three of them lived and functioned on the same wavelength, they had for years and knew they always would for the rest of their lives, but Zoey had always been unique. Just that bit more alive. A bit faster. Glowing that little bit brighter. So all Rumi could do was follow her lead as Zoey pulled her over.

Standing at the window, Zoey gave Rumi a determined smile filled with so much certainty and love that Rumi had to bite her bottom lip to stop herself from tearing up again, but then blinked in confusion when Zoey slid her grip from Rumi’s hand to her wrist.

Zoey guided Rumi’s hand up, and pressed it against the glass, all three of them watching and listening as the Honmoon chimed underneath the touch, welcoming Rumi’s attention and focus.

Once Rumi was watching the Honmoon dance, while also staring out over the city as the sun finished setting and the neon lights of downtown were sending up rays of multicolored light that even managed to pierce through the rippling surface of the Honmoon, Zoey leaned in and whispered in Rumi’s ear.

“Okay. Now sing for us, sweetheart. Please?” Zoey smiled again when Rumi turned her head to give her a confused frown, her voice still a whisper that washed over Rumi’s ear and down her neck, rousing her patterns in a cerulean blue that refused to fade away while Zoey was so close. Zoey hummed, pleased at the sight, and pressed a gentle kiss to Rumi’s cheek, directly onto one of her brightly sparkling marks. “Trust me. Sing like it matters. Sing for me.”

Zoey’s breath washing over her ear, and the impossible soft touch of her lips on her cheek, had Rumi’s eyes flutter shut and the glass of the window creak as her fingers bent into claws and her nails scratched down. A low growl rumbled in her chest, and while normally she would have been horrified at it, she was too distracted by the twisting in her chest and the shockwaves pulsing along her skin from the spot of Zoey’s touch.

Instead the growl came out freely, her teeth feeling like fangs on her tongue as her skin burned to cinders around her flesh. But it slowly faded away, her composure returning, and she turned her head to give Zoey a flustered glare.

But Zoey didn’t respond beyond an earnest smile and a gesture with her head to the still rippling Honmoon, and Rumi turned her attention back to it and sucked in a breath. She wasn’t entirely sure what Zoey was trying to prove, but she’d be lying if she said her song hadn’t been aching to escape into the world for the past ten minutes, just to vent some of the pressure building inside her chest.

So, settling her shoulders and pressing her palm flat against the glass, Rumi looked out over the city, and sang as only a Hunter could sing, soaking her voice in the vibration always within her veins and lungs.

I broke into a million pieces, and I can’t go back.

Rumi watched as the Honmoon glistened under her touch, rushing with its normal pulsing blue and white, like waves crashing across the ocean before a storm.

But now I’m seeing all the beauty in the broken glass.

Soundwaves travelled along the glass, rippling along every surface in the penthouse as the Honmoon carried the perfection of the sound, and Zoey and Mira both looked around in awe. It was a sight the three of them had seen before a thousand times, but that never made it any less spectacular to watch. And Rumi’s song was always so pure.

The scars are part of me, darkness and harmony.

The city below chimed with flutes and the gentle stroke of piano keys, as even though it could not hear her, it felt her as she called out to it, and the world accepted her and answered. The Honmoon welcomed her home. It always did.

My voice without the lies, this is what it sounds like.

Rumi trailed off, before surprising herself when she sniffled and choked, the skin of her cheek burning hot as a tear escaped and trailed down, only to be lightly brushed away by Mira’s thumb ghosting over her.

With the Honmoon rippling blue and white, a pond which Rumi had skipped a round diamond across like a stone, Zoey wrapped her arms around Rumi’s waist on her left, while Mira gently hooked her arm through Rumi’s on her right. They watched together as the singing blanket settled and faded from sight once more, leaving just the view out over the city.

Zoey smiled, and pressed a soft kiss to Rumi’s glowing shoulder with a gentle hum. “See? Not evil. Never evil. Just beautiful.”

The purple had been washed from Rumi’s patterns entirely, banished by the song, but her normal pale silver hadn’t returned to her entire body. Instead her waist and entire left side, echoing out from wherever Zoey was touching or pressed, sparkled a vibrant azure blue, while her right arm and shoulder pulsed a rich pink as Mira tightened her grip on it.

Silver curves glistened like white crystal along her thighs and calves, and the lines wrapping around her neck and trailing across her jaw and cheeks. The claws that had been threatening to extend out from her nails had vanished, the slight points to her teeth that she was sure she had imagined were gone.

Instead it was just her, her friends, and the view in front of them. So she smiled, her eyes sad, and pulled them both closer.

Zoey giggled happily and pressed another quick kiss to Rumi’s cheek, delighting in the burst of color it caused and the way Rumi trembled for a few seconds from the overstimulation, but then acquiesced and pressed closer, tightening her grip around Rumi’s waist.

Meanwhile Mira was far more subdued, but no less sincere, as she shuffled closer and rested her forehead against Rumi’s temple for a moment, closing her eyes and simply basking in the closeness that was slowly coaxing Rumi to relax.

The conversation wasn’t over by any stretch, but the three of them took a reprieve from it, simply soaking in the view, and Zoey also looking around at how Rumi’s glow was dancing across the walls and the ceiling, sending long shadows from the furniture in every direction.

Rumi frowned as her thoughts eventually started again, and bit her lip in concern, looking between her friends. “So how do we get them out of me? What do I do? I can’t live like this. I can’t be like this every day, or after every performance. I’ll go insane. I’m already going insane.”

There was a loud scoff from next to her, and Mira unwrapped her arm from Rumi’s so she could turn and fix her friend with a raised eyebrow, a coy smile in the corner of her lips. “Rumi, don’t be an idiot. We've already found...something that helps.”

The look had Rumi freeze when she glanced over to catch it, her eyes widening at the tease in Mira’s eyes, and she blinked stupidly a few rapid times before her face went pink and her voice came out as a squeak.

“...you’re joking.”

Mira chuckled, crossing her arms over her chest, and she shook her head slowly. When Rumi simply continued to stare at her absolutely dumbfounded, Mira took her time to blatantly run her eyes up and down her friend.

It wasn’t the first time Mira had drank in Rumi’s appearance, but she’d tried her best not to do it very often over the years, especially once it became clear that Rumi seemingly had no interest in anything of the sort. Those glances had been quick, at first just strikes of hormones in their teenage years, but then absolute appreciation and admiration once they grew older.

Rumi was beautiful. Everybody knew that. Every magazine, tv network, gossip website, and social media platform were well, well aware that Rumi was one of the most attractive people on the planet.

But for the first time in what felt like years, Mira finally allowed herself to indulge. Her eyes roamed over Rumi’s body hungrily, taking in every inch of Rumi’s powerful muscles and tantalizing curves. Rumi had a tone to her muscle that would make anyone’s mouth water, with prominent biceps, large thighs, and a back so strong it pulled plenty of shirts and jackets taut. With by far the most intense workout routine of the three of them, and having been raised to be a Hunter from childhood, Rumi had a power to her frame that the other two would simply never catch up to.

But there was a softness to Rumi’s body too, with a modest chest perfectly proportioned to her amount of muscle, a smooth neck that was born to be kissed and bitten, plump lips with a perfect cupid’s bow, and those goddamn doe eyes. When Rumi fixed her eyes onto a person, they did anything she asked. It felt natural to obey her gaze.

Even without the patterns, scars littered Rumi’s skin, ripped into her from demon fangs and claws. But they’d all healed small and tight, only visible to Mira and Zoey who knew where to look in order to find them. Rumi's entire appearance was that of a warrior who kept winning fights. It screamed danger. And god, something about that did something to Mira that had heat curling inside of her and her jaw clenching to leer at it.

The baggy shirt Rumi was wearing was slipping down her shoulder, the skin between her neck and shoulder the perfect size for teeth, and Mira couldn’t help but run the tip of her tongue along her lips as she stared at the bare spot for a moment.

Rumi hadn’t moved a muscle the entire time that Mira’s eyes had been roaming over her, and when Mira finally looked up into Rumi’s eyes again she sucked in a quick breath of shock at the slight ring of gold around one of Rumi’s irises, with Rumi’s jaw bulging as she clenched it. She was almost trembling under Mira’s indulgence, something waking up and stretching alert beneath the surface of her pupils.

“I told you, Rumi. We’ll always look after you.” Mira hummed with as nonchalant a shrug as she could manage, but failing to have anything indifferent in the movement at all. The smile on her lips was too sincere, the eagerness in her eyes too hungry. But every word was earnest as she said them, reaching out to take Rumi’s hand again and giving it a squeeze. “Because we love you. So, no, I’m not joking. Not exactly something I'd joke about, anyway.”

A pulse of rich pink went through the entire canvas of Rumi’s patterns, each curve and line dancing with the bright light as her grip on Mira’s hand tightened and her stare intensified. When she managed to speak, it was strained and choked, as if she was having to fight to keep it calm and steady.

“Mira…” clenching her jaw, Rumi narrowed her eyes as they sharpened, the tips of her teeth nipping into her own tongue as it swirled around the inside of her mouth. Despite the way her breaths were coming faster as heat began to stir inside of her chest again, her voice was desperate and pleading. A beg for mercy. “Don’t take pity on me.”

The fact Rumi could even consider that pity was a possible explanation had Mira’s heart crack, and she immediately frowned and stepped closer, raising Rumi’s hand held in hers and pressing a kiss to the back of it.

It was confession time. Rumi had bared her soul, and fair was fair. They’d all promised after the Idol Awards not to hide anymore. So Mira sucked in a breath and pulled on her over two decades of blunt honesty.

Lowering Rumi’s hand again, she stepped even closer, circling around to Rumi’s front and shaking her head to brush Rumi’s paranoia away with gentle eyes.

“Rumi, you definitely caught me by surprise last night, sure. And, well, revelations were then had.” Mira bit her lip for a moment, before straightening her shoulders and speaking clearly. “But ever since then, all I’ve wanted is for you to do it again. And I’m betting Zoey’s the same, now that she’s had a taste of you too.  Right, Zoey?”

Upon suddenly being addressed, Zoey jumped from where she’d been in the process of extracting herself from Rumi so she could step away and let the two of them have their moment. Four eyes were suddenly on her, catching her in the act of sneaking away, and her face was suddenly burning hot.

But she still managed a chuckle and a shrug.

“I mean, last night when we talked about it I wasn’t exactly expecting to be a…part of…it.” Zoey trailed off when Rumi’s hand flashed out quick as lightning and grabbed a fistful of her shirt, then yanked her back in close violently enough that Zoey practically crashed into Rumi’s side. Rumi’s arm was immediately around her waist, a growl rumbling out at the idea of Zoey trying to leave, and Zoey’s heart felt like liquid gold at the intense, animal way Rumi was smoldering at her. “...oh.

Zoey gasped as she felt Rumi’s nails digging into her skin through the soft fabric of her shirt, and she shivered when she caught Rumi’s pulsing eyes flick down to her lips at the intake of breath.

Every muscle in Rumi’s body was taut, her skin scorching hot to the touch, but Zoey had zero desire to complain even as her own skin began to bead with sweat, both from Rumi’s heat but also her own pounding heart. Every breath from Rumi carried a quiet growl, almost a purr, and Zoey suspected Rumi didn’t even know she was doing it.

Zoey managed to look past Rumi to Mira, a question in her eyes, a desire for permission, and she shuddered when Mira smiled with an encouraging glimmer to her eyes. “To hell with it, she’s right, Rumi. Since I walked in on you both last night. Trust me. Trust us.”

A desperate, confused whine ripped out of Rumi, her eyes closing and her head turning away even as she pulled both of her girls closer. Thinking was getting harder again, the screaming in her blood too loud, the howling of her bones echoing too clearly. An earthquake trembled in her pulse as she squeezed her eyes shut, growling to herself but the sound having a layer to it no human could do.

The sheer effort it was taking to stay still had her legs trembling, every breath fast and shallow, in through the nose and out through the mouth, and she hissed with her eyes tightly shut. “You guys don’t know what you’re saying. You’re torturing me. You don’t know what you’re doing to my head. I don’t know how to do this. How to be like this! ”

Zoey and Mira were too close to pull back from the beast in Rumi’s voice, and Zoey’s eyes fluttered shut as she grabbed for Rumi’s shirt just like Rumi was bunching up her own. Meanwhile Mira sucked in a breath as the echo went through her own song and into her head with a rumble.

It was something they’d both felt before, only a few weeks ago on the worst night of all of their lives. But last time, she’d been stolen by it. This time, she gave herself to it, clenching Rumi’s hand so tightly in her grip that it surely hurt, but Rumi didn’t even seem to notice.

Rumi lightly thumped her forehead on the cool glass of the window, as if trying to snap herself out of it. No luck. Desperation soaked into every joint as she shook her head, knowing how this could go.

If she couldn’t handle what was inside of her, how could she ever ask her best friends to deal with it? Especially in a way that could break them. Not just as people, but what the three of them had built together over the years.

So why did Rumi want it so badly? Want them so goddamn badly?

“It’s too much. It’ll be too much.”

Zoey shook her head, reaching up with her free hand to run her nails along Rumi’s scalp, her voice able to be surprisingly gentle considering how violently she was trembling from the sudden sheer size of the presence holding her close like she was a possession. “There’s no such thing as too much. Not with us. Not when it’s you. We’ve got you. We can take it. But only if you want to give it.”

It was intoxicating to be so close to Rumi when she was like this. Zoey could definitely understand why Mira had immediately given in the previous night, and she was well-aware of why she’d taken her own taste of Rumi in bed only a little while earlier. But she wasn’t going to pressure Rumi into anything. That was a line she’d never cross.

So, despite the great effort it took, she carefully extricated herself from Rumi’s grasp and shuffled back, giving Mira a nod. Mira nodded back and did the same, squeezing Rumi’s hand one last time before letting go.

Gently pressing her own kiss to Rumi’s temple, Mira whispered gently.

“It’s your choice. But, it’s there. We’re here, if you want us.” Mira pressed another quick kiss. “We love you, Rumi. So much.”

When Rumi didn’t react in the slightest, Mira stepped back and away, sharing a nod of agreement with Zoey, and the two of them parted ways, Zoey heading to the kitchen to do the washing up properly, while Mira walked over to the dining table to extinguish the candle and tidy up.

But just as the breath left her lungs and the dancing fire died, leaving the dining room entirely dark, Mira spun on her foot at the sound of a gust of wind, and stumbled back at how she was suddenly nose to nose with Rumi just as Rumi materialized in front of her in a wash of silver smoke.

Before Mira could even say anything, Rumi’s hands were on her hips, pushing her back against the table roughly enough it rocked from the impact of her crashing back against it, and Rumi’s face was buried into her neck as she bunched Mira’s shirt in her fists.

Every pattern on Rumi’s body was scorching bright, so utterly blinding in their pink that Mira had so squeeze her eyes shut, which only made her more aware of the feel of Rumi’s tongue trailing along her skin as she took a taste.

Rumi growled roughly in her chest, unashamed of the sound, as her tongue reached Mira’s pulse point and she broke off her moment of hunger, slithering up Mira’s body like a serpent until they were nose to nose. Mira froze rigid at the feline slits of Rumi’s pupils, one its usual chocolate brown while the other was a pulsing gold.

When Rumi spoke, Mira trembled. “...promise me this is real. That you mean it. Promise me!”

Mira nodded shakily, letting out her own whine when Rumi pressed her tighter against the table, pinning her so tightly she couldn’t move. “...I promise. God, Rumi, I promise .”

“Promise me that this isn’t pity.” Rumi gently rested her forehead against Mira’s, gazing into her eyes, something still slightly human in them. “That it’s…that it’s because it’s me.”

The quiet desperation buried underneath the growl had Mira melt, and she stopped bothering to support her own weight with her hands, instead placing them on Rumi’s shoulders and smiling. Because tonight was the night of confessions, and twenty-four hours of revelations had left her with quite a few of her own. “I promise. It’s you, Rumi. It’s always been you.”

A rumbling in Rumi’s chest was definitely a purr, the patterns over her entire body rippling a brighter pink, and she gave Mira a pure smile for a moment before it faded and she looked over her shoulder in the direction of the kitchen. “And you, Zoey?”

Zoey had been staring at the encounter with wide eyes, not even breathing, and a dish towel limp and useless in her hand as lightning blasted through her body over and over again, making her fingers numb and her hair stand on end. The sight of Mira pinned and helpless did something to her, and the fact it was Rumi doing it was even worse.

No. It was so, so much better.

So she looked at the two girls she loved more than anyone or anything else in the world, and dropped the towel onto the counter. “God, Rumi. That’s the easiest promise you can imagine…”

At Rumi’s encouraging growl, Zoey shakily made her way over, her hands flexing by her sides and her breathing rapid and doing little to calm the pounding between her ears or the growing heat low in her abdomen just at the intensity Rumi was looking between them both with. A few weeks ago, Rumi’s demonic appearance had scared her to the bone. In a way, it still did. Because there was such a thing as a want so potent it felt like terror.

Zoey stopped at Rumi’s side, pressing against her arm and summoning her own courage, before giving into temptation and nuzzling Rumi’s neck to press a kiss to the brightest of the patterns. Light blue scorched out, travelling around the entire network of curves decorating Rumi’s neck and face, and Rumi bit back a moan as she shuddered, pressing harder between Mira’s legs and causing Mira to give a pleased hiss.

Rumi kept her breathing as under control as she could, every word she spoke infused with a low growl, and she was well aware of the claws starting to extend from the nails on both hands and piercing the fabric of Mira’s shirt. “We’re changing everything…”

Beneath her, Mira wrapped a leg around Rumi’s thigh to coax her in even tighter, and slid her hands from Rumi’s shoulders down over her chest, teasing the sides of her breasts through her shirt, until they rested on the dip of her hips. “Yeah. Well, I realized while I was cooking that, given everything that's happened, everything that's changed, a shift to a new status quo was well overdue.”

“What if it ruins everything?” Rumi whispered. “Ruins us?”

Zoey shook her head gently, and playfully nuzzled into Rumi’s neck again, dancing her fingers along Rumi’s exposed arm with one hand, while her other hand snaked up the back of Rumi’s shirt to lightly scratch her nails along Rumi’s spine, coaxing blue flames beneath the glass of her markings. “Us finally, finally being allowed to love you the same way we’ve loved each other, could never ruin anything. It could only make things perfect.”

Startling at the words, Rumi blinked and looked between the two girls, having to crane her neck to meet Zoey’s eye when Zoey refused to pull back. “Wait, you two-”

Zoey giggled and shook her head again, pressing a smiling kiss to Rumi’s earlobe. “It’s a long story. We can save it for after.”

“After?” Rumi’s voice was rasping and rough, and the response she got was Zoey biting her earlobe to tug it, while also gliding her hand down Rumi’s arm to take her wrist and guide Rumi’s hand to Mira’s belt for her. Rumi’s eyes fluttered shut for a moment, and she bared her neck for Zoey’s mouth as she slid her other hand along Mira’s body to grab a fistful of her long hair and wrap it around her hand. “Yes... After.”

Before either Mira or Zoey could twitch, Rumi was on Mira, forcing her head back so Mira was looking up at her, and her eyes opened to look down at Mira with a feral hiss and her pupils thinning into dangerous slits. Mira whimpered at the sheer hunger Rumi was scorching her with. The pathetic sound was enough for Rumi to snap, and she pulled Mira up at the same time as she pressed down, slotting their mouths together roughly and groaning at Mira’s taste.

Mira moaned loudly against Rumi’s mouth, parting her lips willingly when Rumi ran the tip of her tongue along her bottom one in need, and she trembled under Rumi’s heat as Rumi held her head in place by her hair and just took her kiss.

Unwilling to simply be an observer, even though the sight was unbelievably intoxicating, Zoey scratched harder, the lines nasty along Rumi’s spine while she pressed languid, open-mouth kisses along the curve of Rumi’s neck, on every inch of skin her lips could find.

A particularly sharp scratch from her nails along the waistline of Rumi’s shorts had Rumi pull out of her kiss with Mira with a snarl, and she turned her head to catch Zoey’s lips before Zoey could pull away or tease her. But Zoey had no intention of teasing her or toying with her, not with her own shorts torture on her own arousal already. She was perhaps a bit too selfish herself for that.

Instead she placed a hand around Rumi’s throat with the lightest bit of pressure, and allowed Rumi to drink from her, gasping into Rumi’s mouth when Rumi took her hand from where it had been struggling to undo Mira’s belt, and instead boldly placed it directly on Zoey’s chest to palm her through her shirt.

Zoey hissed and pressed into Rumi’s hand, smug when Rumi moaned in response and her fingers grew needier. But Zoey wasn’t going to give her everything just yet, not when Mira would soon start to feel ignored, so she broke off the kiss and used the grip she had on Rumi’s throat to guide her back down to where Mira had been watching the kiss with a mesmerized drunkenness on her face.

Without any hesitation, Rumi practically assaulted Mira again, taking her hand from Zoey’s breast and doing a far better job of undoing Mira’s belt this time. As the leather came undone and Rumi pulled it free so violently it would have snapped if it was lower quality, Zoey went back to lightly scratching along her skin, and pressing playful kisses wherever she could reach.

Rumi was shivering, barraged by teasing, tasting, touching, and needing on every side, every breath a heavy growl, her movements guided by pure animal instinct. But her inexperience showed in her technique, and she was a perfectionist, so it was only going to be a matter of time until she got insecure.

So Zoey kissed her way up to Rumi’s ear again, and murmured loud enough that Mira would hear too. “We’re here. We’ve got you.”

Understanding what Zoey was doing immediately, Mira found the willpower to pull away from the rough, messy kiss, and stared up into Rumi’s eyes. With kiss-swollen lips, glazed eyes, and a flush to her cheeks, Mira was aware she wasn’t at her most dignified. And that was the point.

So she nodded eagerly. “We can take it.”

Rumi leant back slowly, arcing and rolling the movement with a deceptively sensual animal grace, and looked between them both with a fierce stare and a demanding snarl on her lips. “Say it again.”

It was an easy command to obey, but both Mira and Zoey took the time to stare deeply into Rumi’s eyes so that she could see the sheer depths to which they meant it.

Mira had already pledged it, so it was Zoey’s turn, and she did so with a soft, loving kiss to Rumi’s lips, whispering the words against them. “We can take it.”

“...okay. Then help me. Please.. ”

Rumi's eyes were desperate, lit from within by a galaxy of golds and oranges that was turning her soul to charcoal the longer it remained. She needed help, help that Mira knew she could give, and Mira could only tremble at what might be coming even as she managed a nod. When Rumi smiled, it was all fangs.

Mira had no idea what was coming. But she could take it, she knew she could. Absolutely.

'Fuck...'

Chapter Text

The day that Mira had first met Rumi, they’d both been eighteen, and Rumi hadn’t seemed terrified in the slightest. Not like Mira was, fresh off the train with a rucksack of memories, two hundred bucks, and the tatters of a last name. Mira hadn’t heard a word that Celine had said to her, instead making sure to hold steady eye contact with the violet haired girl who was watching her with a kind smile but guarded eyes.

Being scrutinized wasn’t a new experience for Mira, but there was none of her parents’ judgement or disappointment in how Rumi had taken measure of her. Instead Rumi’s eyes had taken her in as if she was evaluating a sculpture, and there was nothing in that which Mira could burn to fuel a glare, so despite her best efforts she’d felt her own stare falter.

Rumi had smiled wider then, taking her hands out of the pockets of her designer jacket, and extended one. “It’s really good to properly meet you.”

Painted nails, a deep purple. Muscular build, with her jacket tight across her shoulders and her jeans practically painted on. Every article of clothing was expensive, perfectly chosen and catered to just how much muscle was hidden in the contours of her profile. It was deceptive from a distance, but Mira could see the rippling of muscle underneath the layers.

Good god, this girl had power built into her, and she stood and moved like she knew it too.

Mira took her hand firmly, shaking it with the grip her father had raised her to have, then felt the calluses across Rumi’s palm and fingers. There were the calluses of a musician, sure, but also more than that. Ones that Mira couldn’t quite feel the cause of just from touching them.

God dammit, Rumi’s grip was stronger than hers too. Restrained, carefully controlled. If Rumi squeezed hard enough, she was probably capable of breaking Mira’s hand. Mira knew it, she could feel it.

But instead of intimidating her, it intrigued her. Mira didn’t get intimidated, not anymore. So, with Celine ceasing to exist as far as Mira was concerned, she raised an eyebrow and shook Rumi’s hand firmly.

“Yeah. Likewise.” Mira grunted, holding onto Rumi’s hand a breath longer than strictly necessary, just to see how the other girl would react.

Rumi maintained the grip just as easily, but she did blink in surprise when Mira squeezed, a flicker escaping through her shields that she immediately recovered from and shoved away. Before Mira could capitalize on it with a smirk or a raised eyebrow, Rumi dropped the contact first and released Mira’s hand, surrendering the challenge she probably hadn’t even noticed that Mira had made.

Instead, Rumi’s smile widened and the wall behind her eyes repaired itself, as she glanced down to the rucksack hanging in Mira’s grip. “Is that everything you need?”

“It’s everything I’ve got, dude.” Mira scowled and hoisted the bag up onto her shoulder, the weight inconsequential despite how it contained what was left of her entire life.

The response was the first thing to make Rumi truly falter, her mouth opening in the need to say something, but nothing came to mind. Instead she seemed to look at Mira a bit deeper for a moment, the blank wall behind her eyes lowering to give her a clearer view.

Mira bristled, her hackles raising as she waited for any judgement, or heaven forbid pity of all things, but instead Rumi simply nodded slowly after an awkward second, and she put her hands back into the pockets of her jacket.

With the strangely open moment between the two girls over, Celine spoke up, having been checking emails on her phone as if she had expected the need to pass the time during the introductions. Maybe she had been. Celine’s entire demeanor had been strange so far, in Mira’s eyes. Expectation warring with a caution Mira couldn’t tell the source of yet.

And yet, that caution had seemingly completely vanished, leaving Celine with a satisfied preparedness as she waved for the two girls to follow her out to the parking lot and over to a simple but expensive four-seater.

Celine grabbed out her keys to unlock the car, while speaking over her shoulder to the two girls. “We can fix the clothing situation easily enough. A proper shopping trip was in order soon anyway, to start evaluating each of your individual tastes and styles, both casual and professional. Once the final member of your trio arrives this weekend.”

Mira grunted in thanks when Celine opened the car trunk for her, and put her bag in, then rolled her shoulders and stared down at it with a sullen glare as she grumbled. “I’m not exactly rolling in cash now, and clothes aren’t cheap.”

“I’m happy to cover it.” Rumi gave her another smile as she opened the door and put a foot up, ready to settle in but waiting for Mira first.

“I don’t need your charity.” snapping back, Mira cringed internally at the teeth that had been in her tone before she’d had the chance to defang herself.

Not the greatest second impression in the world. Especially since it was her first time meeting Rumi outside of the professional atmosphere of an audition. Mira tensed, expecting Rumi’s expression to cool and her to give up without another word.

But instead Rumi took it in stride, frowning and tilting her head in thought, some strands of hair escaping her braid and falling loose over her face. It was clearly annoying enough for Rumi to try and blow them out of her eyes, and Mira’s lips ticked up ever so slightly into an amused grin at the sight.

Luckily her momentary slip was gone again without even leaving a ghost when Rumi came out of her thoughts and brushed her hair back over her ear properly. Rumi nodded slowly as a solution came to mind.

“It’s not charity. But, if it makes it better for you, we could write it off as a business expense for now, and you just pay me back from your first payout.” Rumi raised her eyebrows as she offered Mira a way to keep her pride, her lips in a hopeful smile that had no force or pressure behind it, and her tone was light and weightless. “No empty wardrobe for you, and it won’t be a gift from me. More like an advance, I guess. Fair enough compromise?”

Mira paused with her hand lingering on the lid of the car trunk after closing it, her lips pressed in a thin line and her shoulders tense as she chewed it over. Part of her wanted to dig her heels in, just out of habit. But Rumi was looking at her with so much calm patience that Mira felt her inner ocean quieten for the first time since she’d stormed out of her family’s home just before dawn, leaving her key on the kitchen counter and most of her life and childhood still in her room.

Anger and rejection both still boiled and churned in her chest as the fire in the furnace that was keeping one foot moving in front of the other, and she was cradling it in her hands like the one ember in a deadly blizzard. It was what was keeping her going, keeping her alive, as one world died behind her and she stepped into a new one she didn’t understand.

But then Rumi smiled at her, and Mira’s shoulders settled .

“...fine. Okay. Sure, that works.” Mira huffed with a single nod, circling around to the other side of the car and opening the door, before pausing and looking up to meet Rumi’s gaze. She sucked in a breath and gave another nod, this one more earnest without being any larger. “...thanks.”

Rumi smiled again, her eyes twinkling with light, and hummed in casual satisfaction as she slid into the backseat and grabbed her seatbelt in the one graceful movement, with Mira mirroring her on the other side with a synchronicity that had them blink at each other and pause.

From the front seat, Celine cleared her throat to get them both moving and settling in, and she put the key in the ignition. “I’m glad that’s sorted. To tide you over until Sunday, there’s plenty of spare clothes at the estate.”

Mira blinked, her eyebrow shooting up. “Estate? What the fu- hell am I in for, here? Can someone just tell me what’s going on with me, already?”

There was no response from Celine, the woman’s eyebrows furrowing and her lips turning down into an unreadable frown as she pulled the car away and began the drive to wherever it was they were going. When Celine didn’t say anything, Rumi spoke up instead, her voice calm and her gaze confident when she turned her head to catch Mira’s eye and hold it steady.

“It’s hard to explain, and definitely best if we wait until we’re home before you get the spiel. But don’t worry, I’m by your side the whole way.” Rumi gave Mira a firm nod, confident and controlled, nothing insecure on a single one of the layers behind her eyes that she was allowing Mira to see. Instead she was simply just certain . “We’re in this together.”

Mira was quiet as she held Rumi’s stare, narrowing her eyes, and she eventually huffed when it was clear that she wasn’t going to get anything further for now. Any other day, she would have pushed, but something firm and strong in Rumi’s expression and the set of her shoulders had Mira nod with a patience she didn’t know she had left in her.

“Right. Well, how long is this drive?”

Celine answered from the driver’s seat, looking up into the rearview mirror to make eye contact. “A few hours. So if you want to get some sleep, feel free.”

“Works for me.” Mira grunted, shuffling into the comfortable seat so she could slump, and she allowed her eyes to close as the exhaustion that she had been holding off since before dawn, maybe for her entire life, took her in a matter of minutes.

When she next woke up, the car was still moving, but after blinking her eyes open wearily she hummed when she saw how the surroundings had changed. They had left the city, with there now being trees and wildlife in every direction instead of skyscrapers and alleys. The sun was also far further across the sky, settling into the afternoon and bathing the leaves of the passing trees in gold.

Even though the nap had clearly only been for a few hours, Mira had slept deeply enough that it had done wonders, and she groaned in satisfaction as she stretched herself awake, and she gave Celine a nod when Celine’s eyes went to her in the rearview mirror in response to the sound.

Celine spoke quietly, with the sort of detached tiredness that comes from doing a long, memorized drive. “We’re almost there. Not much further.”

Instead of answering, Mira just nodded again, then turned her head to look at Rumi, who hadn’t reacted at all to her waking up. Half-expecting Rumi to be asleep as well, Mira instead raised an eyebrow at how Rumi was quietly humming along to whatever music was playing through her earbuds loudly enough that she hadn’t heard Mira stir, her eyes out the window and watching the view pass by.

The creak of cardboard had Mira blink, and she looked down to the seat between them where a takeout cupholder was safely settled between them with two cups, one looking to be entirely empty while the one closest to Mira was full and fresh enough to still be steaming.

Mira raised her eyebrows at it in surprise, and picked it up, the movement finally large enough and close enough for Rumi to see it in her peripheral vision. Immediately taking out the earbud on Mira’s side, Rumi looked over at her with a smile, and nodded when Mira raised the cup in the silent question.

The kind gesture, unprompted and unexpected, had Mira’s chest twist as she took a sip, before her eyes widened in surprise and her lips curled up in satisfaction as she swallowed with a pleased sigh. Quickly taking another sip of the still hot coffee, she looked over to Rumi again.

“Thanks. You didn’t have to.” Mira smiled, the first one she had given without any edge, and cradled the cup on her lap and hummed at the feeling of warmth settling in her stomach from the drink. “How’d you know I take it black?”

Rumi chuckled, the sound musical and soft, and her eyes sparkled mischievously as she grabbed out her phone to change over whatever song she was listening to. “Just a guess.”

Instead of being bothered by the tease, Mira snorted and rolled her eyes, unable to refute the assumption considering it had been dead on. Still, the fact that Rumi had done it in the first place had her look away and out the window, relieved when Rumi didn’t feel any need to go after any conversation.

Rumi was content to leave Mira to her thoughts, putting her earbud back in and looking out the window again, tapping her fingers in rhythm with the music as her mind wandered away.

But when Mira was the one to break the silence a few minutes later, Rumi quickly pulled her earbud out again and looked over, humming to prompt Mira to repeat herself since she hadn’t heard her over her music.

Mira was staring down at her already half-finished coffee, her expression carefully composed, and her voice casual. “What about you?”

“Huh?”

“Your coffee preference.” Mira ran the tip of her fingernail around the rim of the cup lid, shrugging when she felt Rumi’s eyes on her.

Rumi blinked at the question, and hummed indifferently. “Oh. Lattes, usually. I make my coffee pretty weak at home.”

“Full milk?”

“Soy if it’s an option, otherwise yeah.” Rumi tilted her head at the clearly crafted nonchalance on Mira’s face, and the fine-tuned indifference to her tone.

But then Mira smiled. It was a small thing, delicate and fleeting, but sincere to the core. Mira didn’t look over, her eyes didn’t even leave the cup in her lap, but the smile was there regardless.

“Okay. Cool.” Mira nodded slowly, her finger stopping in its awkward circuit around the lid. The smile vanished as well, but it left behind a softness in the corners of her lips where until now there had either been exhaustion or sharp edges. Another nod, and her voice softened a step further, something that Rumi could feel was rare. “...I’ll remember that.”

Rumi smiled gently, but didn’t speak, unwilling to do anything that might risk putting cracks in whatever part of Mira clearly wanted to put itself back together piece by piece. Instead she simply gave a happy, grateful hum and put her earbud in, her head falling back and lolling to the side lazily to stare off back into the daydream she’d been having.

Meanwhile Mira finished her coffee with a final large mouthful, grunting in satisfaction and putting the now empty cup back into the holder alongside Rumi’s, and sat back with her arms loosely crossed.

But without any of her own music to distract herself, since her phone battery had died on the train, Mira only had her thoughts, and she found herself looking over at Rumi as discreetly as she could manage.

It had been a very strange few weeks for Mira, her already chaotic and unconventional life thrown into a blender and everything changing, leaving her kicked out of her house and running to Seoul in pursuit of both answers and a future. There was no other option but to land on her feet now, it wasn’t like she could take back any of the things she had said or done over the past year that had pushed things with her parents past the point of no return.

It was whatever this was, or bust, whatever the hell bust would entail.

But Rumi was so certain in it. There wasn’t a single stressed or insecure tension or edge to her entire body, every muscle and joint set with a bedrock of confidence so calm and integral to her entire being that she radiated it. As if the earth beneath her feet grew firmer just from her passing.

Everybody knew the stories and rumors about Rumi that had spread for her entire life. Considering how private her upbringing had been, the rumor mill had been forced to grasp at straws and blow them out of proportion, but Mira had looked past the bullshit as best she could.

Rumi was the mystery daughter of a dead superstar, raised by the last surviving member of her mother’s band. Homeschooled her entire life and only ever seen when she accompanied Celine to events over the years, Rumi had only entered the public spotlight as her own person a year ago when Celine had revealed that Rumi was ready to follow her mother’s footsteps.

That had been the first time Mira had ever seen her, plastered all over magazines and appearing for her first solo interviews. Talking about legacy, family, and her passion for the craft. Mira had rolled her eyes at first, until she’d glimpsed part of one of her interviews while channel surfing one afternoon.

Because Rumi had looked so confident, sitting with perfect posture, an easy smile, and a clear voice. It was obvious that every part of her outfit and makeup had been carefully selected and put together, chosen for her and not by her, and she wore the manufactured guise without a single crack in the mask.

Except, behind her eyes…

Mira had never seen such unwavering eyes before.

The same eyes that had been looking at Mira with such calm acceptance, utterly unflustered and unbothered by the sharp barbs Mira didn’t know how to put away. They were guarded, sure, and the walls were tall and strong. But she looked at Mira like Mira belonged in her field of vision, an expected part like the sun in the sky or waves in a storm.

Rumi was confident. Grounded. Steadfast.

New.

Clearly Mira had been staring for a bit too long, because Rumi finally noticed, turning her head and raising her eyebrows in a question that had Mira shrug and shake her head to dismiss it.

Rumi simply smiled. Far, far too gently for Mira to know what to do with yet. But she got the impression that Rumi’s quiet, reserved, reassuring calm was something she was going to have to get used to.

Somehow.

Rumi blocked out all the remaining light as she towered above Mira, holding her down on the surface of the table with a firm hand on her chest. Power rippled in every exposed muscle as she held herself so tense and taut that she was close to quivering, her fingers digging so hard into Mira’s body that it wouldn’t have been a surprise to any of them if Rumi broke the skin and anchored herself around her ribcage.

And yet, despite the restraint wrapping around her like chains, Rumi couldn’t stop. Mira could feel in the heat of Rumi’s body, the way her patterns were rippling a violent pink, and her pulse was hammering so hard and fast that Mira could feel it in the lips that were practically glued to hers.

It was as if Rumi was trying to devour her, the hunger in every press, every swallowed sigh. Rumi’s lips were impossibly soft as she kissed her like Mira was precious and terrifying, and her touch was curious and restrained as her free hand slid over the lines of Mira’s ribcage through her shirt. She wanted to touch everywhere that decency told her that she shouldn’t, her hand constantly teasing the boundaries but never crossing no matter how much she wanted.

Any other time, any other girl, and Mira would have found the hesitation rather endearing. Shy girls were usually so much fun. Easy to intimidate and a delicious pleasure to tease and taunt into becoming blushing, desperate wrecks. But she just wanted Rumi to fucking give in. I’m right here. I’m literally spread out on our dining table and kissing you like I’ll die without it. What the fuck are you waiting for.

Under Rumi’s sheer presence, the power radiating off her with each pulse of infernal light, Mira had no will to do anything except grab Rumi’s neck with both hands and pull her in deeper. It was rough, but they both wanted rough, and Mira closed her eyes and smiled when Rumi groaned at the sting of Mira’s nails scratching along the soft skin below her jaw.

Rumi’s fingers twitched at Mira’s pull, digging into her ribs like claws, the unnaturally sharp tips of her nails sure to leave lines even through the cloth. But concern for a piece of fabric was the furthest thing from Mira’s mind as her hands roamed over Rumi’s exposed body. Her cheeks, her shoulders, anywhere Mira could reach. Every scorching hot inch of Rumi’s patterns needed to be scratched, the faintly scarred skin of her shoulders and collarbone needed to be stroked. That plump bottom lip, always making every smile she gave enviable, needed to be bitten and then the sensitive mark swiped with the hot tip of Mira’s tongue as a tease and a balm.

Mira was not going to be a passive participant, and Rumi’s choked groan at the sting of her teeth was the most deliciously encouraging sound in the world. Chuckling low in her throat, Mira opened her eyes, and she raised a challenging eyebrow.

Next to where Rumi was taking a moment to compose herself, Zoey had been watching with wide eyes that looked black from how dilated her pupils were, and slightly parted lips so her breaths could come hard and fast. Mira gave her a teasing smirk, and Zoey simply shook her head in awe, then pressed a series of slow, indulgent kisses along Rumi’s neck and up to her ear.

Shivering, Rumi opened her own eyes once more, and both Mira and Zoey froze at the sight of the pulsing, shining gold that had completely overtaken one of the irises. Delicate, glowing lines lit up within Rumi’s skin along her neck and jaw in an incandescent pink that cast shadows across the table, the glistening cobwebs hungrily stretching up to get to Rumi’s lips and eyelids.

The normally calm, composed, and refined girl was simply staring down at Mira with wide eyes and a feral curve to the corners of her mouth, her bottom lip swollen from the bite and begging Mira to run the tip of her tongue along it again the next chance she got. But Mira wasn’t able to move, wasn’t able to do more than simply breathe, as Rumi stared down at her with a near-rabid intensity that had the entire room holding its breath.

But Rumi didn’t move, her fingers bent into claws and her markings glowing, as she otherwise stayed entirely rigid. The only slight movements were the shift of her chest as she tried to slow her breathing, and the bulging of her jaw as she clenched it at the effort it was taking to hold herself still.

The vibrant, blinding pink underneath her skin shimmered like disturbed water when a wash of purples and oranges teased the depths and tried to escape, and Zoey sighed quietly when she saw.

Keeping her voice at a soft murmur, Zoey pressed another kiss beneath Rumi’s ear. “Stop thinking. That defeats the reason you need this, doesn’t it?”

Rumi shivered under the sensation when Zoey nuzzled into her neck, warm breath washing along the patterns that were so sensitive it almost felt like pain. Her arms trembled under the effort to stop herself crashing back down onto Mira, and she couldn’t look away from Mira’s eyes even as she replied to Zoey in a raspy growl.

“I…don’t really know what I’m doing.” Rumi whined at the sting of Zoey’s teeth lightly scraping along her skin, her eyelids fluttering. “God, Zoey. What if I hurt her…?”

“Oh trust me, she won’t complain.” Zoey chuckled, leaving a line of slow, open-mouthed kisses around the back of Rumi’s neck and shoulders as she slid around to Rumi’s other side so that no part of her was neglected.

Mira smirked up at them when they both stared down at her, Rumi in conflicted hunger while Zoey was instead purely playful, a knowing edge to her smirk as she gave Mira a wink.

Slowly shifting her hips, Mira stroked her fingers up Rumi’s side, around her shoulder, and down her bicep, making sure to follow each glowing line with her fingernails and leaving scorching trails of pink that had Rumi snarl behind clenched teeth and tremble.

Eventually reaching Rumi’s wrist, Mira took it in her grip and slid Rumi’s hand up from her ribs to around her neck, and held it there. Rumi’s eyes widened, her lips parting in a gasp that showed teeth which Mira could have sworn looked sharper than they should have, and Rumi’s exhale rumbled in her chest in a growl that had Mira shiver and Zoey’s smirk lose any soft playfulness.

Zoey’s hand found its way under Rumi’s shirt once again, the touch of her fingers torturously light and slow as she indulged herself in the feel of the powerful muscles of Rumi’s lower back. Every single one was tight and flexed, Rumi’s body flooded with an adrenaline she was trying her best to hold steady.

It was a losing battle, Rumi just didn’t know it yet, and Zoey sighed happily as she reached up with her free hand and cupped Rumi’s jaw to guide her to turn her head, and kissed her.

Even Rumi’s lips were scorching hot. Impossibly soft, insatiably eager, Rumi pushed into the kiss without any reservations, groaning needily when Zoey opened her mouth to coax Rumi to indulge in her greed. The feel and taste of the want in Zoey’s mouth had Rumi groan, her grip around Mira’s neck beneath her twitching and curling without her control, and Mira grunted and her hips twitched as Rumi’s hold on her throat became tight enough to feel good.

The involuntary twitch and roll of Mira’s hips had Rumi hiss into Zoey’s mouth, and she broke the kiss with a growl, turning her head to look down at Mira again and shivering when Zoey’s nails scratched along her hip and around to her front, dancing along the ridges of her abs.

Rumi’s pupils were feline slits, sharp and predatory, as she bared her teeth in a snarl. “Is she right?”

The surface of the table rippled in gentle blue as the Honmoon tried to catch and carry the deep, infernal rumble from Rumi’s voice, but Mira and Zoey didn’t reach for the protection it offered. Instead they basked in the tone as it slithered in through their ears and left tempting strokes down into their lungs, becoming a taste in the air they were breathing.

Zoey was forced to rest her forehead on Rumi’s shoulder as she shuddered, her own blood and body hot and wanting, and she envied just how much worse it had been for Mira, who was looking up at Rumi with slightly glassy eyes.

Every panting breath from Rumi carried the same dark layer to it, something raw and carnal, ancient in its need and new in its demand, and Mira’s legs were trembling as she wrapped them around Rumi’s waist properly and pulled her in.

Mira wet her lips with the tip of her tongue and shivered when Rumi followed the movement hungrily, and raised an eyebrow. “… as if you could hurt me, Rumi.”

To her credit, the bravado came out sounding confident, but her voice was rough and her skin was humming as she met Rumi’s feral gaze with a smirk she hoped was cocky and teasing. The gold around Rumi’s iris pulsed bright in response to the challenge, a neon flush crashing through the lines wrapping around her arms to her wrists, and Mira hissed at the sting as Rumi’s nails grew sharp enough to threaten to pierce the skin of her ribs.

But it was not a reaction of displeasure in the slightest, which Rumi clearly noticed, if how she growled and dug her claws in slightly harder was any indication. The fact she hadn’t said a word or made any other movement had Zoey suspect Rumi hadn’t even realized she’d done it.

“Told you so.” Zoey giggled, rolling her eyes when Mira glared at her for a moment, and then returned to kissing a slow trail up Rumi’s neck until she reached her ear, her eyes not leaving Mira. “Is that consent then, Mira? Use your words, you know she needs to hear you say it.”

Rumi was trembling so violently the table was wobbling as she tried with all of her might to hold herself steady, her eyes far away as she held herself tight with chains that creaked and groaned with every passing second and murmured word.

The feel of Zoey’s lips and breath were leaving cracks in glaciers that were as old as Rumi’s shame, and the way Mira was looking at her was as if the crumbling ice was exposing something breathtaking and long since hidden.

It was agony, and she knew what they were asking her to do, what they were telling her she was allowed to do. But she just…

Why was this so hard?

Mira narrowed her eyes at the clear struggle behind Rumi’s eyes, and curled her lips into a wicked smirk, reaching up to run her fingertips along Rumi’s jaw and down the side of her neck. “Yes. Do your fucking worst.”

Oh. Okay. Fuck.

Rumi chased the touch of Mira’s fingers and whined when Mira pulled them away faster than she could catch, the patterns along her face and neck swimming with the pink Mira had left behind.

Every cell in her body felt like it was in a furnace, the pressure building but with nowhere to go, and she didn’t know how to open the valves. The ropes wrapped and tied in knots that a sailor would envy were tight and weathered, slipping from her grip with every tug in the hurricane of blistering winds.

The desperation was painful inside of her veins, enough so that Rumi snarled and slammed an open hand onto the surface of the table hard enough the surface cracked, and her claws pierced easily into the wood. Mira froze in shock, her eyes wide at the painful light winding around Rumi’s bicep and shoulder, and how the Honmoon shuddered red under the hit.

It was as if Rumi’s suppressed violence alone was enough to bend the Honmoon out of shape, if just for a moment and a way that could never break it. But still enough for the world to bow when Rumi growled for it to.

Zoey hummed in quiet encouragement as she kissed Rumi’s temple, and whispered directly into her ear. “There we go.”

Expecting the resulting trembling and growling at this point, Zoey giggled teasingly and kissed her way back down the side of Rumi’s neck, until her lips and tongue lingered on the vulnerable base where neck met shoulder.

Temptation and indulgence danced in Zoey’s smirk as she met Mira’s eyes and winked, the fingers of one hand still stroking playful lines across Rumi’s stomach, while her other hand took hold of Rumi’s hair and pulled her head to the side only the inch or so she needed.

Then Zoey growled low in her own throat, her voice dropping into a burning heat, and she tempted the devil with a final slow, languid kiss on one of the shining marks. “Unless the little demon girl is scared of a couple of eager, pretty hunters…?”

Before Rumi could react, Zoey parted her lips against the pulsing pattern, and bit down hard.

The room went black.

Every pattern, every curving line, on Rumi’s body extinguished in the same instant, bathing the entire penthouse in shadow now that the sun had entirely set below the horizon. The sudden darkness was one that neither Mira nor Zoey could see through, locking them in a void that was silent when Rumi stopped breathing. Frozen as still as a statue of lovingly shaped stone, Rumi’s trembling had halted as well.

No light, no breaths, and not even a twitch.

Then, after a pause so long that it had been torture for the other two, it began like blood.

Pure, rich crimson light began under Zoey’s teeth and lips, and slowly began to spread through the channels painted and carved along Rumi’s neck and shoulder, infusing such a flawless ruby shine it was like lava rolling down a mountain and through valleys. Humanity burned away from Rumi’s flesh as the thick curves across her sternum and down her waist melted into a violent, vibrant sanguine.

Mira and Zoey watched in anxious, intimidated awe as every sharp edge and dangerous curve that Rumi had was stripped bare and raw, shining with something so primal and exposed that just watching it had them both trembling anxiously, only able to watch and wait in paralyzed anticipation.

Every deep, heaving breath from Rumi came out in growing snarls, having begun as quiet huffs and growls as the light had first seeped out from under Zoey’s teeth. But her chest and throat rumbled and her teeth were slightly bared with each violent exhale. Her eyes were wide and increasingly crazed, growing feral, and the depths of her pupils scorched black from the heat that was burning her pure.

The further it spread, the faster it did so, carried by Rumi’s own gravity and pushed by the pressure of its own need. It was the purest color her patterns had ever been, no hint or hue of anything but red, as it curved up her face until the thin tips touched her eyelids. The fabric of her shirt and shorts did little to smother the crimson heat contained inside the sinews of her spine and the muscles of her powerful thighs and calves. Every muscle on her body was swollen, held so tight they trembled, as they flooded with blood for what the curse of her patterns desperately hoped was to come.

Everything in the room that the light touched lost all other color as her final thin markings lit up, every inch of her patterns filling to overflowing. It was the burning fuse of something beyond the scope that Zoey and Mira could see, towering above them and rooted fathoms deep. And it burned.

It wasn’t coal, gasoline, or napalm. It wasn’t even a nuclear heat, burning bright and soaking into the world around it. There was no sunlight, no magma, nothing like it on earth or could be found in ancient carvings or published textbooks. It was simply just more, and it bared its fangs in a howl that couldn’t be heard. Only felt.

Then, with no warning, Rumi moved.

The table rocked violently on its legs as Rumi pinned Mira beneath her by the throat and kissed her with biting teeth and snarling want, her free hand swiping everything else off the table to the floor without any regard for what she might break. Because she was broken, cracked open and raw, and Mira was warm and tasted like spice, smirks, and seven years, seven fucking years, so Rumi shoved Mira further up onto the table properly and crawled on top of her.

Denim protested as it ripped from Rumi’s claws digging into Mira’s jeans to pull them free, the button and zipper not standing a chance against Rumi’s need as she simply yanked and they gave way. Mira didn’t even protest, completely overrun and drowning as Rumi’s new fangs nipped harshly into her bottom lip and they both tasted iron.

Not even needing Mira to lift her hips, Rumi broke off the kiss so she could shuffle back and desperately pull the shredded jeans down and off, before her head whipped around when Zoey reached over to take the destroyed clothing from her. They locked eyes, Rumi’s wild and unrestrained while Zoey’s were dark and hot, and Rumi lurched over to grab Zoey’s face with both hands and pull her into a bruising, messy kiss.

Zoey mewled into Rumi’s hunger as the current of it ripped her free of her own tethering, and she tossed Mira’s jeans away so she could throw herself into Rumi’s arms and eagerly drown. While Rumi cradled her face with possessive hands and groaned into her mouth, Zoey reached down and drove her nails up a watching Mira’s thigh with a lethal scratch, ripping a cry out of her.

The reminder that Mira was beneath them, and now very exposed, had Rumi’s eyes fly open mid-kiss, and she all but pushed Zoey away so she could turn her attention back down to where Mira was squirming as Zoey’s nails scratched around to her inner thigh and teased with pain.

Unbothered by the push, Zoey simply giggled as she watched Rumi pin Mira down by the throat once more and force Mira’s legs apart so she could slide between them again. Mira’s eyelids fluttered and she gasped when Rumi attached her lips to her neck, biting with sharpened teeth but not hard enough to draw blood, simply leaving marks sure to bruise all the way up to Mira’s ear.

Whatever Rumi quietly growled, Zoey didn’t hear, but Mira’s eyes widened and her hips twitched up, finding enough friction on Rumi’s pelvis that she groaned and wrapped her arms around Rumi’s shoulders.

Rumi chuckled, the sound poisonous in every way that felt good even as it killed, and she nodded encouragement before she kissed Mira once more, one hand staying around her throat while the other grabbed Mira’s hip and guided her to grind. It was rough and without any finesse, just need, but Mira didn’t care and Rumi didn’t notice.

Every pulled roll of Mira’s hips had her gasp into Rumi’s mouth, her ankles crossing behind Rumi’s thighs as she tried to press up but stood no chance of breaking through Rumi’s pressure on her throat.

All Zoey could do was watch with wide eyes, holding herself up on wobbly legs with one hand on the surface of the table, while her other hand twitched with indecision on who she wanted to touch more.

Every inch of Rumi was sharp and deadly. Mira was completely at anyone’s mercy. But fuck, the sight of the two of them grabbing for each other with abandon had Zoey want to shove her hand down her own shorts and just enjoy the show.

She knew that Rumi was acting entirely on instinct. It was a hunger with an appetite greater than she or Mira could comprehend, sated by an instinct as old as life. But Rumi was seemingly never inadequate at anything, no matter how brand new it was to her.

But still, a bit of a nudge never hurt, and she’d always proved to be open to constructive criticism and advice in the past…

Zoey bit her lip and indulged herself in watching for a moment longer before speaking, her own voice coming out with a raspy hunger. “Rumi? Shift your legs a bit. She’ll get better friction on your thigh, and you can tease her with more control that way if…if that’s something you want to do…”

The sound that Mira made at the idea was the perfect mixture of outraged and wanting, and Rumi released her lips and looked down at how flushed Mira’s face was. Rumi raised an eyebrow, and her lips curled into a predatory smirk.

“ Would that be nicer…?”

Mira’s eyes rolled back in her head as Rumi’s voice rippled straight through her skin and into her blood, her thoughts smothered under the weight. But she nodded. “The friction? Yeah. Yes. Fuck yes.”

“And the other part?” Rumi chuckled, her grip around Mira’s throat tightening as a prompt and a warning when Mira huffed pridefully and looked away. It immediately brought Mira’s attention back, and Rumi’s smirk widened. “The. Other. Part, Mira?”

The way that her name sounded when wrapped in hellfire had Mira moan, raw and loud, and she immediately folded and shook her head wildly. “Don’t be so cocky already, Rumi. And don’t…you dare just tease me.”

Zoey snorted, and when Rumi turned her head to look at her in response to the sound, she smirked and gave a playful wink. “That means yes.”

A snarl almost as animalistic as Rumi curls out of Mira’s mouth, her eyes suddenly sharp and insulted as she glared up at Zoey with a potency that could make a demon weep. “Fuck you, Zoey.”

It would have been threatening if she wasn’t currently pantsless and held down by her throat, and Zoey scoffed with a roll of her eyes. After glancing at Rumi in a silent request for permission, and saw Rumi simply silently watching with heaving breaths and a tight jaw, Zoey leant down until her lips were an inch from Mira’s, and sneered.

“Aww, I’ve missed you too…” Zoey almost closed the final distance, her lips ghosting so lightly across the other girl’s that Mira lurched up to try and have it. But Zoey was quick, she always had been, and she knew the perfect distance to lift up to so that Mira was so close to getting her, but still held down by Rumi’s grip around her throat.

Playfully running her thumb across Mira’s bottom lip, enjoying the perfect curve and cooing at the softness that was so, so eager, Zoey giggled and pressed a kiss to Rumi’s nearby wrist without breaking eye contact with a frustrated Mira. “But you’re hers tonight. Right?”

Mira’s eyes widened in outrage and her jaw clenched tight, as one of her hands lashed up to grab a fistful of Zoey’s hair and twist it angrily, snarling once more. “Hey! I’m not something that can just be-”

Before Mira could finish protesting, Zoey pushed her thumb between Mira’s lips and into her mouth, and cut her off, raising an eyebrow when Mira groaned. “Uh huh. Whatever you say, hon.”

As the grip Mira had on her hair loosened, Zoey smirked as she watched Mira’s resolve gradually melt until her tongue moved slightly against her thumb. Zoey pressed a swift kiss to the corner of her mouth as a reward, then looked back at Rumi with a sharp grin.

Rumi’s eyes were wide, her patterns pulsing a blazing red in rhythm with her racing heartbeat as she watched, absolutely entranced. Everything was new, everything, and instinct dominated reason too powerfully for her to feel insecure as she met Zoey’s eyes and smirked back.

They both shared an amused, familiar chuckle, with Mira’s pride and attitude an old comfort and company. But teeth lined their grins and Rumi’s eyes were wide and predatory, while Zoey’s face was flushed and her breaths impossible to slow down.

At a silent prodding from Zoey, Rumi tightened her grip on Mira’s throat and pushed her down firmer, holding her still so Zoey could pull her thumb from Mira’s mouth with a pop and bend down so she could hungrily run the tip of her tongue along Mira’s exposed thigh, up to the rim of her underwear.

Mira shivered at the unexpected tease, her lips still slightly parted, and she tried to gasp through the grip on her throat but it instead came out as a gurgle that had Rumi chuckle and immediately press back down to kiss her.

With every intense, messy kiss, Rumi’s skill was growing, and whether it was the woman that was a natural or the demon was a philosophical question for another time. Instead Mira obediently opened her mouth when Rumi’s tongue demanded for her to, and groaned when Rumi used her grip on her throat to hold her in place and take from her.

Zoey sucked in a breath at the sight, watching from where she was leaving a trail of quick bites along Mira’s thigh and up under the hem of her shirt, sucking dark marks in a curving line. She could feel the heat burning within Mira’s skin, and the patterns curling over Rumi’s body were only growing brighter. Things were reaching a breaking point, but Zoey was willing to guess that while Rumi’s instincts knew exactly what she wanted, it was not knowing how to do it that would hold her back and stop her from letting go properly. And they wanted her to let go. They needed her to.

So Zoey gave Mira’s inner thigh a final deep scratch, from her knee up to where she could feel Mira’s arousal through her underwear, then shuffled up to whisper into Rumi’s ear. “Don’t you want to make her behave? To make her yours?”

Immediately stilling, Rumi’s eyes clicked open as a deep growl rumbled out of her chest, a territorial snarl that had even the Honmoon churning in the instinct to back away and give distance. Mira gasped as the sound travelled through every inch of skin contact and straight to her bones.

Claimed.

Nodding wildly, Rumi pulled up from Mira and licked her lips, throwing her head back with a groan and her entire body shuddering in satisfaction. But it wasn’t enough. Now that Zoey had put the thought into her mind, a mind already past the point of being able to think in anything resembling a language, Rumi’s vision was swimming with it.

“I thought you might…” Zoey giggled and pressed a soft kiss to Rumi’s shoulder. “Go on then. She’s so ready for you. She’s not even talking back anymore.”

Rumi looked back down at Mira, her eyes roaming across her, but for the first time since her restraint broke she looked unsure of what to do. So Zoey reached over and put her hand on Rumi’s thigh.

“Here…let me help?” Zoey breathed, her own barely restrained want evident in how her hand greedily slid to Rumi’s inner thigh and along her patterns, and Rumi shivered and nodded. With permission given, Zoey guided Rumi’s hips and readjusted her thighs with trembling hands. “There. Now the pressure is all under your control. You can also flex the muscle to give a more firm surface for her to-”

A moan ripped out of Mira when Rumi pressed her thigh against her covered cunt and dragged up, tensing the muscle for the pressure, and the movement hard and rough. Rumi’s eyes widened in surprise and carnal delight, her face breaking out into a wide smile, and she immediately pushed back down.

Zoey watched breathlessly as Rumi’s free hand pushed down on Mira’s hip to stop her from grinding on her own, fully in control of what Mira got to feel, and figuring out the pressure with every twist and push from her hips and thigh. It seemed the easiest thing in the world for her to learn, and Zoey swore under her breath in aroused awe as she watched sweat begin to bead on Mira’s skin.

The quiet sound of her voice had Rumi look at her, and Zoey matched Rumi’s delighted, crazed smile with a smirk, aware her own eyes were probably almost as dark as Rumi’s were. Zoey grabbed Rumi’s face in both hands, sliding her grip around to twist her luscious hair between her fingers, and kissed her so hard she should have been worried that Rumi’s lips might bruise.

But she didn’t care, instead she simply wanted, and Rumi purred indulgently as she kissed back with equal hunger. No matter how good the kiss felt, and holy shit she was good at it, Rumi’s focus on Mira never faltered or shifted, not until she felt Mira begin to tense and twitch.

It wasn’t much of a surprise. The steady, controlled grind, combined with watching Rumi and Zoey get absolutely lost in each other, had Mira’s blood rushing and her eyes tingling as her breathing began to speed up. While she wasn’t able to move much, her legs were free, and she tried to wrap one around Rumi to pull her in and increase the pressure.

It was almost enough, it was so close to being hard enough to get her there, but not quite. Instead her climax remained a pale light on the horizon, teasing and taunting her with the view but too far away to even shout out for it to hurry up. A phantom kept tight on Rumi’s leash.

As soon as Mira tried to pull her in firmer, Rumi broke off the kiss with Zoey to glare down at Mira with a harsh snarl, and immediately pulled her thigh back to the very edge of Mira’s ability to feel it.

Now not just her climax was a ghost, any touch at all was a barely tangible illusion too, and it had Mira cry out with a frustrated glare. “God dammit! Come on. Rumi, I swear to-”

Rumi shook her head violently, easily overpowering Mira’s glare with a wild one of her own, and hissed at her with bared fangs to make her behave. A violent spike of bright red flashed over her patterns, highlighting the gold in her eyes, and the hiss rumbled into a growl of warning.

The sound was uncaged and feral, and Mira froze with her eyes widening in a type of fear that had the heat curling around her core pulse deliciously, making her shudder and her thoughts go silent with a dull echo. Slowly, without blinking or taking her eyes from Rumi’s, Mira shakily nodded and unhooked her leg obediently.

Zoey hummed in encouragement, and pressed a kiss to Rumi’s neck with a smile. “Okay, fuck that’s hot. Let it out, Rumi. We want it. We want you. All of you.”

Every whispered prayer and promise was punctuated by a soft kiss, Zoey nuzzling and giving a happy sigh when Rumi bared her neck in permission and encouragement. Zoey placed her fingers on Rumi’s jaw to softly turn her head, and stared into Rumi’s pulsing eyes.

It was as if Rumi was looking straight through her mind and soul, and into her blood. The scrutiny hungry and unsated, wanting whatever she could take and whatever the others would give.

So Zoey gave.

The kiss was as intense as all others had been, but slower, more indulgent as Zoey poured as much desire and encouragement into it as she could, calling out to Rumi’s depths throughout touch and taste and sound. And Rumi heard her, purring in the kiss.

Eventually they broke apart, and rested their foreheads together while Rumi continued to purr, basking in the echoing shivers, and Zoey playfully resumed kissing her jaw and around to her ear.

“Now… fuck her, Rumi.” growling low into Rumi’s ear, Zoey took her earlobe between her teeth and bit hard enough for it to sting.

The sharp pain had Rumi snap at her with a growl, fangs bared and her eyes wide, and Zoey smirked and raised a challenging eyebrow. “Or if you’re going to keep dawdling, should I just take over and handle her myself?”

Rumi growled once more, a threat in the pulsing red of her markings, and she immediately wrapped an arm underneath Mira’s back and pulled her up to hold her possessively, snarling at Zoey all the while. Mira gasped at the brutality of it as Rumi’s claws dug into her back, easily piercing her shirt and drawing droplets of blood, and she cried out in pain when Rumi’s mouth latched onto her neck.

But the pain quickly morphed into a pleasure as Rumi bit down and swirled her tongue over the now sensitive bruise, her fangs almost piercing the skin, scraping across the top layer in a graze. It felt like the promise of something lethal, and Mira’s hands didn’t know what part of Rumi to grab in order to hold her close.

When it became clear that Mira was hers and had no intention of wanting Zoey instead, Rumi’s eyes glowed in a victorious sneer to where Zoey was watching, and she dragged Mira back and off the table.

Easily picking Mira up into her arms as if she was completely weightless, Rumi carried her down into their living room and dropped her unceremoniously onto the nest of blankets and pillows covering their couch.

A dark, painful ring of teeth marks had formed a perfect blemish on Mira’s neck, the indentations dark red with blood rising to the surface of the damaged skin, and Mira ran her fingertips over the spot and winced at the sore sting. But nothing in her complained, instead she shivered, her eyes locking onto Rumi’s with a silent invitation.

Rumi pounced onto the couch and aimed it perfectly, landing right between Mira’s legs but catching her weight on her hands so she didn’t crush her, and she attacked Mira’s lips with her own in a cruel kiss. Supporting her weight with one hand, Rumi hooked her fingers into the collar of Mira’s shirt, and ripped down, her claws easily slicing through the fabric and leaving it in tatters.

Breaking off the kiss as soon as Mira’s torso was exposed to sight and touch, Rumi immediately began to kiss down her neck with quick bites and runs of her tongue, her hand hesitating for barely a heartbeat before cupping one of Mira’s breasts through her bra.

There was no flicker or any nervousness or insecurity as Rumi squeezed, testing what got the best reactions while also groaning at how good it felt to do it, and she smiled against Mira’s collarbone when Mira gasped as Rumi’s thumb ghosted over her nipple through the fabric.

Rumi adjust so she could put most of her weight onto her knees, leaning back and shuffling down slightly, and scratched her other hand in a harsh line from Mira’s neck, down between the valley of her breasts, over her torso, and slowing to a crawl once she reached the waistband of her underwear.

The tips of her claws slid slightly under, but she knew to lighten the touch, the skin far too sensitive for Mira to survive anything harder than a ghosted graze. Mira shivered and her hips twitched, making Rumi’s smile sharpen, and Mira closed her eyes and let her head fall back with a groan.

A particularly harsh squeeze of her breast, punishing and pointed, had her yelp and her eyes fly open again, and she lifted her head slightly to look to where Rumi was glaring at her angrily.

“Don’t look away.” Rumi hissed, her patterns briefly rippling the orange of anger before returning to their crazed red.

The entire room vocalized with a cry as the Honmoon was struck on every surface by the sheer depths to Rumi’s voice, the hellfire within it scorching across the world, and Mira’s body trembled from the feel of it as it rushed inside of her mind and grabbed her consciousness by the throat.

Don’t look away. Don’t look away. Don’t look away…

It sounded like her own mind, just like Namsan tower all over again. But Rumi’s stare penetrated into her so deeply that there was no mistaking the source, and it wasn’t a lie like Gwi-Ma had tried to tell. Instead it was a revelation, a commandment from something more carnal and raw than any demon or deity, so Mira nodded and kept her eyes open wide and unblinking.

Rumi gave a pleased purr, her glare morphing back to her indulgent grin, and she gave her reward when she slid her fingers beneath the waistband of Mira’s underwear, and felt the first signs of Mira’s arousal. The feel of it, the heat and the wet and the proof that Mira wanted her, had Rumi suck in a breath that rumbled out of her as an eager growl.

Without a conscious thought, Rumi retracted the claws of her hand, and ran the tip of a finger down Mira’s slit, not so much to cause pleasure but instead purely out of her own indulgent curiosity and smugness.

She had done this to Mira. She was what Mira wanted. She had taken the blunt, confrontational girl, and already started to reduce her to this. Mira was worshipping her.

It felt good. Too good. But Rumi didn’t care. In fact, not much of Rumi was still there at all.

Instead her body was scorching hot, every cell and atom vibrating and twisting around in violence and discord as her patterns pulsed in time with her hammering heart, turning the entire room sanguine. No words came to her mind, simply instinct. It felt so, fucking, good.

Her girls were right. They almost always were. She deserved this.

So she would take it.

Something howled. It might have even been her.

Rumi slid her fingertips back up along Mira’s slit agonizingly slowly, enjoying the torture as Mira spasmed and gasped when Rumi dipped a finger in not even to the first knuckle. While Mira was distracted, Rumi flicked one of her claws and severed the girl’s bra, and nudged the two halves to fall free and expose Mira’s bare breasts to her sight.

Mira was gorgeous, and Rumi had always known it. Watching her move was hypnotic, even when it was something as inane as walking or rising from a chair, let alone the controlled elegance of her dancing. Mira existed with beauty and an enrapturing grace, her long legs mesmerizing just to watch her cross them politely on a couch, and her fingers playful and aimed when she toyed with her own hair.

Sharp eyes studied the world, guarded and armed with ethereal blades, and she looked at so much of the world as if it was either a disappointment or a potential threat, with her lips in their permanent thin scowl.

With two exceptions; Rumi and Zoey.

Only a few months into knowing each other, Rumi had watched as Mira had begun to open up, a softness and compassion revealed in the depths of her eyes whenever she looked at either of them. A fire in her smirk when they fought against the darkness trying to swallow the world.

Mira was just so alive deep inside. She loved so deeply, and protected so fiercely. Her love came out in service and providing, because she knew just how easily the world could become a hard, cruel place, and she would do everything in her power to make sure it never happened to her girls.

Rumi knew Mira. She watched her every day. Protected her, fought alongside her, bickered with her, and lived at her side. So she knew better than almost anyone that Mira was beautiful. There was a purity to Mira that Rumi had always known that she lacked.

Mira was the protector. That had always been what she was, even if she pretended not to give a shit about most things. Mira would protect the world and pretend it was a chore, while protecting her girls and acting as if it was a privilege. She had given herself to the two of them years ago, and Rumi knew it.

A loving smile given an edge by exposed fangs broke out on Rumi’s face, the patterns all across her skin briefly washing with a current of pink, and she slithered up Mira’s body to kiss her again without a word.

Mira groaned as Rumi licked at her lips with a hungry demand, and immediately obeyed, welcoming Rumi in and cupping Rumi’s neck in her hands to bask in it. When Rumi’s hand found her bare breast, she hissed appreciatively into Rumi’s mouth, and groaned when Rumi swallowed the sound with a chuckle.

It was a delight to discover just how sensitive Mira clearly was, and Rumi decided to play, taking Mira’s nipple between her fingers and giving it a teasing, exploratory twist. Mira lurched up with a ripped gasp, her hips twitching at the spark it sent through her body, and Rumi released the sensitive bud to immediately glide across to Mira’s other breast to make sure no inch of her was neglected.

Every so lightly teasing the fingertips of her other hand up and down Mira’s soaking slit, refusing to dip in and give her anything close to relief, Rumi let out a shaky whine of pure hunger at just how desperate she could tell Mira was, and she broke off the kiss with a final run of her tongue along Mira’s.

Before Mira could complain, Rumi pressed a line of hot, open kisses down her neck, messy and impatient as her patterns pulsed a violent crimson and a needy growl rumbled in her chest.

Mira’s taste. Mira’s skin. Mira’s body. Mira’s moans.

Mira. Oh god.

Mira…

Pinning Mira down by the hip, Rumi’s tongue and teeth passed down over her collarbone, and she slowed her indulgence when she reached the soft curve of her breast, opening her eyes and looking up at Mira with a burning stare. But Mira’s eyes were tightly closed, her bottom lip between her teeth and her breaths shuddering as her hands clenched by her sides, unsure of where to grab.

“You can touch me. I want you to enjoy me.” Rumi purred, making sure the infernal ripple of her voice pierced straight through the skin of Mira’s chest and directly into her heart.

Just as she wanted, Mira’s entire body spasmed as pure, unbridled heat struck every nerve, her eyes flying open wide and her lips parting in a choked groan as Rumi’s unnaturally smooth voice hummed along her skin as her own song fell quiet, skipping out of tune as something far stronger plucked her strings.

But unlike the first time this had happened, there was nothing cruel in the song echoing through her soul and usurping her own. Instead it was just desire.

Rumi wanted her. Rumi wanted her so viscerally that the simplest hum of that want was deep and powerful enough to wash over Mira’s crescendo. And so, Mira fell, her eyes rolling back in her head as her hands flew to Rumi’s hair and the back of her neck, begging her to keep going.

It was a plea that Rumi was more than happy to listen to, giving a possessive growl and attacking Mira’s breast with open lips and a hungry tongue, as she finally dipped her finger into Mira’s dripping cunt. There was no resistance, her hand too slick just from the slight teasing she’d been doing, and she curled her finger upward at the same moment as her lips latched onto Mira’s nipple and her tongue began to swirl.

Mira cried out with a guttural sob as it all struck her body at once, her grip on Rumi tightening to the point it was painful, anchoring Rumi to her as her hips thrust up. The teasing was over, so Rumi obliged with her own hunger as she began to slowly glide her finger in and out in smooth rolls of her wrist, finding the perfect spot with each steady thrust.

Unable to resist, Rumi released Mira’s nipple to instead latch her teeth onto the impossibly soft skin surrounding it, and sucked a dark mark with enough pressure and bite that Mira gasped. Every mark she could leave on Mira was a blessing, a claim, and Rumi hungrily bit and sucked an angry red line down the curve of one breast and across to the other as her thrusting began to grow harder and faster.

“So bossy and snarky all the time, but now you’re this? All for me?” Rumi chuckled, her eyes closed and her body burning, with teeth elongated into fangs in her mouth, as she finished sucking a final black hickey around Mira’s other nipple. “And here I thought I was the one we were trying to tame tonight.”

From the other side of the couch, Zoey grunted out with a strained voice. “She’s a slow learner. But…she l-learns.”

Rumi lifted her head to look up and over at where she’d actually forgotten the other girl was, and her eyes widened at the sight of Zoey with her hand down her own shorts as she’d been watching. Zoey’s eyes were hooded and dark, her face flushed as she groped her own breast through her shirt, and when Rumi made eye contact with her she smirked and arched her back to preen under the attention as she circled her clit with her fingertips with just the right amount of pressure to make her legs shake.

They held eye contact, watching each other in hungry silence as Rumi continued to curl her finger in and out of Mira’s soaked cunt, and Zoey matched the movements with her own fingers on herself. Rumi’s breaths were just growls, her patterns somehow growing brighter and angrier, but no matter how blinding the light became Zoey refused to look away.

Instead she let Rumi watch as she pulled her hand from her shorts and made a show of just how slick and shiny her fingers were with her own arousal, before grabbing the bottom of her sleep shirt and pulling it up over her head so Rumi could truly look at her.

The sight of Zoey's lean, toned body had Rumi’s eyes turn practically black, the gold around one iris swirling like fresh lava, as she lurched forward as if she could reach and taste despite being so far away.

Zoey was short, petite, and her entire brand was in being cute but with the faintest hint of hidden flames underneath her playful smiles. That was the role she had in the group and god did she own and embrace it. But when she was like this…there was no denying she was just as lethal as Rumi and as equally fierce as Mira.

Defined muscles hid underneath her clothes, and her skin was dotted with freckles from growing up in the California sun, but in the scarlet glow of Rumi’s patterns the thin lines of battle scars were visible all across her exposed form. Rumi drank them in hungrily, her eyes roaming over the sight, and she knew the stories of every single one.

There had been plenty of nights that had ended with one of the other two carefully stitching Zoey up, and she had stopped twitching at the sting of a needle going through her flesh a long time ago. Zoey was made of harder stuff than most, she just wore it so sincerely that she was still able to smile purely and live brightly.

It was a strength that the other two had always lacked, and always envied.

But Zoey being so lethal while she was also renowned for her bright, bubbly smile, somehow made her all the more threatening to know her. To know the deadly, confident edge to her hidden by the giggles and peace signs.

So at the sight of it bared in front of her, Zoey just out of reach but bathing in her attention, Rumi snarled and her eyes begged for Zoey to come closer. To be close enough to taste, and touch, and have.

But Zoey smirked and shook her head, her eyes flicking down to where Mira was grabbing for Rumi and gripping onto whatever part of her she could reach. “Don’t torture her forever, Rumi. She wants you to just fuck her already. Poor thing, look at what you’ve done to her. And you’ve barely started.”

Rumi smirked, a feral edge to her eyes, and immediately returned her attention to Mira with a vengeance, rolling her body down so she could kiss her in time to catch the moan as she added a second finger to the relentless, rhythmic thrusting.

The surprise and sensory overload had Mira’s hips trembling, keening upwards in the pursuit of more, and Rumi rewarded her enthusiasm with a particularly cruel thrust and curl with her fingers as she bit Mira’s bottom lip and sucked it between her own.

Slowly, half-expecting Rumi to growl at her with a different wish, Mira wrapped her arms around Rumi’s neck to pull her tighter against her, and Rumi slid her tongue between Mira’s lips as she quickly readjusted so she could press down on Mira with more contact but without the angle being awkward or painful on her wrist as she pumped into Mira’s cunt with an instinctual precision that took Mira’s breath away with each thrust.

Rumi’s other hand couldn’t seem to decide where to go, as it alternated between groping Mira’s chest, scratching down her ribs, or holding her by the throat. It was as if she wanted everything from Mira at once, unable to prioritize in her greed. Each scratch left painful red lines across Mira’s skin as her claws sharpened, turning a true black that greyed the skin of her arm up to the elbow.

The sudden hard scratch of Mira’s own nails across the patterns on her neck had Rumi’s head flying back as she cried out, a snarl and a howl blasting across the Honmoon in a tsunami that had Mira’s eyes roll back in her head, and Zoey shivering.

Every noise from Rumi, whether it was a breathy sigh or a bestial snarl, turned the Honmoon crimson on every surface it touched, the hellfire of Rumi’s song a long shadow to cast. It wouldn’t escape the confines of the penthouse, but Zoey watched with wide eyes as something in Rumi sang and the Honmoon could barely stand the vibrato.

The effect it was having on Mira was the most potent of all, Zoey couldn’t just see it on Mira’s face, she could hear it in the gentle bass that normally punctuated each beat of her friend’s presence. Rumi’s song, as corrupt and primal as it currently sang, was overpowering hers, dominating it and forcing it into a seductive harmony.

It was bewitchment, seduction, in the purest spiritual form, Rumi’s voice alone enough to brush Mira’s fingers away from her own guitar strings and change the tune to what she would prefer it to be. With each whisper against Mira’s lips, each growl, hiss, and moan, Rumi’s song slithered into Mira’s melody and shifted it a key.

Zoey could do nothing but watch in intimidated awe as Rumi broke Mira down and made Mira love her for it, coaxing Mira’s thoughts and body into the pull of her gravity.

But it was nothing like what had happened to Mira and Zoey at Namsan Tower. That night had been a violation. Control and agency had been taken from them. This, though, was surrender.

As Mira gasped and began to twitch, her climax beginning to gently whisper and tease on the edge of her awareness, Rumi’s movements faltered at the worst possible time when she noticed the increase in Mira’s responsiveness, and Mira whined in desperate frustration as it slipped away from her.

But while Zoey knew that it wasn’t personal, that it was simply something that happened during sex sometimes and it was natural and okay, she knew Rumi well enough to already be pulling her hand from her shorts and sliding across the couch to where Rumi was already leaning up with an apologetic wince as she pulled her hand out of Mira’s underwear.

Zoey put her finger on Rumi’s lips to cut off the inevitable apology, and shook her head gently when Rumi winced anyway. “Easy, easy. Not your fault, and not a big deal. Trust me, you’ll get her back there before you know it.”

Beneath Rumi, Mira groaned in the affirmative, putting a hand over her face to brush her hair back off her face. “She’s right, Ru…don’t get into your head about it. It happens. But oh my god, if you don’t get back to it right fucking now, I’ll-”

Zoey put her hand over Mira’s mouth to cut her off, shooting her a playfully scolding glare. “God, never happy, are you? You can wait a bit longer.”

The initial response was Mira snarling something at her that was thankfully completely muffled, her own eyes in a sharp glare at the treatment, but Zoey just raised an eyebrow and smirked mischievously. Because they both knew that Mira could just grab her wrist and pull it away from her mouth with her superior strength if she really wanted.

But instead, when Zoey shifted her hand to tease Mira’s lips with her fingertips, Mira froze for a moment before obediently parting her lips just enough for Zoey to slide a finger in if she wished. And it was certainly tempting, but Zoey’s main focus was on Rumi, so she pulled her hand away from Mira’s face for now.

Having been unable to answer straight away, Rumi had sucked in a breath and held it as she centered herself, slowly managing to crawl her mind back into controlling most of her body as she cringed insecurely.

When Zoey simply tilted her head in question, a patient light in her earnest eyes, Rumi hesitated before managing to speak, sounding mostly like herself again for the moment. “R-right. Okay. It’s just, I’ve never…made someone else orgasm before.”

As tempting as it otherwise would have been to make a poke at just how clinically Rumi had worded something so intimate, especially given her position between Mira’s legs, Zoey instead swiftly kissed Rumi’s cheek with a reassuring hum.

“Start with what you like for yourself, and let her body guide you from there. Trust me, she’ll let you know what she likes.” Zoey smiled encouragingly, looking down at Mira to give her a playful wink and a smirk that had Mira scoff.

Rumi’s eyes widened and her mouth dropped open, and her growing blush was noticeable even in the already red glow of her patterns that was gently pulsing under her skin, before an embarrassed lavender swam across the patterns of her face and neck, as if her song itself was blushing.

The stunned look on Rumi’s face, and the shining shyness, had Zoey’s eyes sparkle and her smile turn devilish and knowing as she leant in close, staring deep into Rumi’s eyes. “Oh Rumi, are you really going to try and pretend you’ve never made yourself cum? We’ve lived together for almost a decade, and some of your late night showers are conspicuous lengths. I know you’re no naive angel.”

Rumi clamped her mouth shut so hard her teeth clicked, but Zoey and Mira both heard the quiet whine caught in the back of her throat. It was delightful, because a flustered and embarrassed Rumi was still so wonderfully, spectacularly new. So Zoey couldn’t help but push her luck as she shuffled a few inches closer, so close to Rumi’s face that their noses were almost touching.

“Did you ever think about either of us? Even just once? Just to see if it turned you on? There’s no shame in it.” Zoey’s voice was low and lethal as she made a show of parting her lips and running her tongue along the tip of one of her canines, her eyes black and cruel at how Rumi’s patterns rushed in a war between feral crimson and shy lavender. Rumi was locked between two instincts, trembling in place, and Zoey slid an enthralling knife between her tense ribs with a delicious murmur. “Did it work for you? Did you have to bite down on your fist so that we wouldn’t hear you from just down the hall as you fucked yourself on your bed thinking about us and whispering our names?”

Rumi was hyperventilating, each breath hard and fast and utterly unsatisfying as she stared deep into Zoey’s eyes while the lavender faded from her patterns and a bright sanguine storm slashed free across her body once more. The pupils of both of her eyes thinned into serpentine slits as she tensed, each panting breath a struggle to keep it from being a growl.

Zoey had her attention completely, she could see that Rumi was transfixed, and she reveled in the power as she ran her fingers along the cage that Rumi had tried to shut again in her insecurity. The door was ajar, too rusted from age to click closed with safety, and Zoey bit her lip as she took the measure of Rumi’s restraint.

Because she was in range, if Rumi snapped too early. Far too close to escape claws or fangs if Rumi lunged, and Zoey wasn’t sure if she had it in herself to resist anyway. But Rumi had to stop thinking otherwise she wouldn’t get anywhere.

So Zoey kept her voice like ambrosia and honey as she dragged her lips lightly across Rumi’s jaw and up to her ear, letting her hot breath wash over the bright, sensitive patterns painting her best friend’s face. “Because I have. That night back in training when Mira showed off that she can tie a knot in a cherry stem with her tongue, I had to change my sheets at like three in the morning.” 

Rumi moaned like a wounded animal, guttural and pained, at the thought, her own hips twitching and pressing back in between Mira’s beneath her as she cried out from the pressure inside of her bones. Lava red as blood bubbled and scorched across her atoms, desperate and stoked, and it was an agony that no other creature on the planet could understand.

It was torture, it was euphoric, it was something worth living and dying and breaking for. She grabbed for Mira blindly, shoving the girl back down flat and pressing with her hips, grinding as best she could in her own need for what she was feeling to come out and burn.

And damn her, bless her, Zoey didn’t stop. Instead she giggled nastily at Rumi’s fragile, faltering restraint, and reached down to take one of Rumi’s wrists and guide her hand back between Mira’s legs. “As for you, my god, you have such long fingers, Rumi. I’d be blind not to notice, and wonder.”

“Zoey…” trembling pathetically, Rumi dragged the name out as a visceral whine as she obeyed Zoey’s guidance, but she surprised Zoey when she extended her claws again for a moment to sever Mira’s underwear and pull them away as tatters without any regard for Mira’s whimper of protest. “I…never would have expected you to be so… talkative, during…”

Zoey cooed into Rumi’s ear, before playfully running the tip of her tongue along it in a light tease, delighted when Rumi shivered. “Words are what I do, aren’t they? This shouldn’t be a surprise, silly.”

Once she had guided Rumi’s hand right back to where it belonged, she released her wrist and trailed her fingers back up Rumi’s arm and across her shoulder to cup her jaw and turn her head to look into her eyes.

Despite the pulsing arousal, the cruel tease, inside of her own body and thoughts, Zoey smiled softly. “I can stop…? If it’s not your thing. Or even just dial it back?”

Rumi shook her head wildly, almost manic in her desperation for Zoey to stay and be with them at her most intoxicating and indulgent, whatever form that took, and she was rewarded when Zoey kissed her once more.

Hot, messy, and full of teeth and mindless lust and tongue, Rumi groaned as Zoey assaulted her mouth with abandon, and shivered when she heard Mira swear under her breath at the sight.

When they broke apart, Zoey was smiling with a dark, animal edge to it, a human’s imitation of what she knew was about to finally break out of Rumi’s chest and scream. Grabbing the back of Rumi’s neck, Zoey guided her back down to Mira, and cooed in approval when Rumi was lost to Mira’s magnetic pull and crashed to her.

Rumi moaned into Mira’s mouth as she finally slid her fingertips along Mira’s slit, purring deep in her chest at the arousal still there to coat her fingers once more. The proof that despite her earlier misstep, Mira wanted her, and wanted this.

No, god no, this level of heat, being so aroused she was practically dripping onto the couch? Mira didn’t just want this, she clearly needed it.

She needed Rumi, and Rumi knew that she needed her now.

Rumi pulled her tongue from Mira’s mouth, purring when Mira chased but failed to catch, and spoke to Zoey without turning her head. “I…I need you to…”

Immediately there at Rumi’s summons, Zoey pressed a firm, present kiss to her shoulder, bunching up the back of Rumi’s shirt in her hands and anchoring herself there so Rumi would feel her. “Yes? I’ll do anything to help. Anything...”

Zoey kissed further up, nipping slightly at Rumi’s neck. “Anything.”

The sound Zoey pulled from her was pure encouragement, as Rumi tilted her head to bare her neck to her lips even as she dipped a finger into Mira’s slick warmth up to the first knuckle, just enough to be a promise to the girl beneath her that it was time for her to be enjoyed for real.

“Anything…just ask it.” Zoey growled against the skin of Rumi’s neck, her eyes open and staring down at where Mira was palming her own breast and transfixed by the way Rumi and Zoey were both staring at her with the same hunger.

Rumi growled deep, her patterns pulsing in time with each light, teasing thrust of her fingers, and when she spoke the humanity had begun to fade from her song once more. “Then hold her still for me, but don’t cover her mouth.”

“Aww, you want to make her sing for us?” Zoey giggled as she slid around Rumi so shuffle down the couch, staying on her knees and thankful for the rug underneath as she shuffled up to Mira’s torso.

But she squeaked in surprise when Rumi’s hand was suddenly grabbing her by her hair, Rumi twisting the soft, black locks into her fist and pulling Zoey’s head back to glare daggers. A savage edge cut along the serpentine slits of her pulsing eyes as Rumi snarled Zoey down, showing fangs.

“Not for us. For me. She’s mine. You are just helping.”

The sight was absolutely breathtaking, pure terror and awe dragging blades and flames across Zoey’s skin as the words soaked into her song and she felt her mind and body tremble. Arousal pooled in her own core and curled up inside her abdomen, slick and intoxicated inside her shorts, and Zoey couldn’t help but rub her thighs together as she was pinned by Rumi’s predatory stare.

“Rumi!” Zoey moaned when Rumi twisted her hair and tightened the grip, a punishment for the first words out of her mouth not being acquiescence. “Already so possessive...”

Rumi hissed as her patterns flashed a crimson warning, and she pulled Zoey in until their foreheads were pressed together. “Mine. You said so.”

The instinct to challenge it, to push back against Rumi and tease her wrath, coiled inside of Zoey’s chest and behind her tongue with a delicious taste, but that wasn’t her place in all of this tonight. So instead, Zoey bit her lip and nodded, her eyes earnest and honest as she gasped when Rumi twisted her hair even tighter.

Satisfied, Rumi kissed Zoey roughly, all teeth and bloodlust, and released her so she could look back down at her Mira, who was watching with wide eyes, twisting hips, and flushed cheeks.

“Don’t I…get,” Mira gasped and her hips twitched as Rumi dragged her fingertips up the slit of her cunt until they pressed far, far too lightly above her clit. “a say in this?”

Rumi growled, narrowing her eyes. “Do you want one?”

Even though she was squirming, and starting to pant as Rumi’s fingers circled her clit in slow, careful torture, Mira still found the stubborn resolve to scowl and look between the two of them. “Is there a reason you’re both treating me like-”

A sudden thrust from Rumi - two of her long musician’s fingers driving in up to the hilt and curling upwards to press against a spot so delicious that it took Mira’s breath away - successfully shut her up.

As Mira practically melted into the couch, Rumi purred, leaning down until she could murmur directly against her lips. “Do you really think you’re in a position to be so combative?”

Following the request that Rumi had made of her, Zoey finished moving around so she was at Mira’s torso, and waited with heavy breaths and electric eyes to do what Rumi needed her to help with.

Not that Rumi actually needed much of her help. And once she realized that, she was going to be a god just as much as she was a demon. Zoey couldn’t wait to hear her song become celestial.

Zoey’s face was so close to the kiss the other two were sharing that she could hear the drag of their tongues, and it was a sound that had her shiver in intoxicated delight as she watched. “Look at that, you’ve got her, beautiful. She’s being so good for you, now. Let her have it.”

A brief spark of humanity, of the soft and beautiful Rumi they saw every single day, broke through the crimson flood as Rumi released Mira’s lips and half-turned her head to look at Zoey. “I don’t want you to feel ignored, though. Because, god, Zoey…”

Zoey shook her head with an eager, enthralled smirk. “Don’t worry about me. I’m having more fun than you can know, right now. Give her all of your attention… Ruin her.”

The way Rumi was looking at her, as if she was something divine that was as glorious as it was corruptible, had Zoey shiver as she met Rumi’s stare with a raw, encouraging one of her own. Slowly, the light of Rumi’s patterns pulsed brighter, the circuit completing as she finally allowed it to, and the gold around her iris swam with caustics of crimson as she smiled at Zoey with such earnest need that she trembled.

Slowly, the movements indulgent and soaked with a new patience as her insecurity bled away, Rumi turned back down to Mira and her smile turned wicked. With a low purr, Rumi trailed her nose and lips across Mira’s cheek and jaw, leaving a line of wet kisses down to her neck, and she opened her jaws to wrap her teeth around the pounding pulse within the already bruised flesh.

Mira gasped at the pressure as Rumi latched on with a confidence straight from the core, and she went to grab fistfuls of Rumi’s hair to hold her close, only to startle in surprise when Zoey immediately caught her wrists and pulled them above her head to pin them to the cushions.

The angle was awkward enough that despite her superior strength, Mira didn’t stand a chance of pulling her hands free from Zoey’s vicelike pin, and she whined in frustration as she pulled with all her might. But all she managed was earning a punishment, and Rumi growled against the skin of her neck as she sucked a black mark that would root deep and linger.

A harsh bite from Rumi’s teeth punctuated a particularly hard and precise thrust from her fingers, and she pressed the flat of her palm against Mira’s clit to grind in between each roll of her wrist. Mira could pretend to hate the way she was being treated all she wanted, but Rumi could feel the trembling and twitching, and she chuckled against Mira’s neck as she released her bite and dragged her lips and tongue up her jaw to kiss her once more.

It was a filthy, selfish thing, Rumi leaving Mira’s lips and chin slick and used as she mapped Mira’s mouth with her tongue and swallowed each moan as she sped up with her fingers, the slick sound of Mira’s cunt loud as her juices dripped down Rumi’s knuckles and onto the blankets beneath her.

Rumi was not gentle. She was not delicate. Just cruelly precise and deliciously rough as she groped Mira’s chest, leaving scratch marks on the sensitive flesh, and Mira’s nipples were stinging and sore as Rumi gave experimental pinches and twists. It was as if she was tuning an instrument as she learned, experimenting with Mira’s body and unravelling her to examine how she worked.

Then she felt it.

Mira clenched around her fingers and whined into her mouth, a sharp exhale rushing out from her nose, as static began to build inside of her blood, and Rumi practically tasted it on Mira’s tongue. Growling in satisfaction and demand, Rumi pressed her entire body weight down onto Mira and sped up with hard thrusts, pounding her fingers into Mira’s cunt with such cruelty that Mira sobbed openly into her mouth.

It wasn’t a gentle buildup, there was no edging or tease, nothing close to romance. Instead it was an all-out assault on her senses as she squeezed her eyes tight and thrashed against the unbreakable hold Zoey had on her wrists, her legs desperately wanting to lock around Rumi’s thighs and pull her in close. But she remembered the threat Rumi’s eyes and growl had promised the first time she’d tried it, so despite the growing need she kept her legs spread wide.

Zoey risked taking one hand away from Mira’s wrists, able to hold both with just her left, as she gave in and shoved her now free one down her shorts, her fingers flying to her clit as she watched Mira’s growing climax, able to see the violence of what was to come just from how Mira was thrashing and Rumi was growling.

It was the most intoxicating thing she’d ever seen. Something raw, primal, and messy. Beautiful cruelty, like a broken stained glass window in a beloved cathedral, desecrated and beloved. Mira was cracking open at the seams, and Rumi was sliding into the gaps and stitching her name into Mira’s parts, blessing each crashing wave with a kiss as the tide came in.

Zoey moaned as she tried her best to match the movements of her own fingers to what Rumi was doing to Mira, and her head fell forwards as sweat beaded on her skin, her forehead resting on Rumi’s shoulder. “Let it all out, baby. It’s what you need, isn’t it? What you deserve?”

Rumi growled in the affirmative, her patterns flashing a scorching gold across her entire body, the nuclear crash of a young star cracking through the ruby red. Her hand slid up from Mira’s chest to wrap around her throat and squeeze tight, the tips of her claws drawing pinpricks of blood in a light graze.

With no access to air, and her mouth still occupied and captured by Rumi’s, Mira could only twitch and shake as her hammering heart drew the oxygen from her blood and the need for it began to make her head swim. That unique, true quiet soaked into every synapse and locked away anything that wasn’t important; anything that wasn’t Rumi, and the crashing tide desperate to become a maelstrom.

Every passing second, the growing thunder and lightning in her body grew in heat and light, crafting something destructive and untamable in the sky and sea, the tide crashing her around no matter how badly her mind wanted to stabilise. But you cannot steady yourself in a true storm, all you can do is trust it not to send you overboard, and submit to its turmoil.

A force of true nature was holding her by the throat, as Rumi became more than just a person. She became something howling, a roar between Mira’s ears and inside of her skin as she took Mira like she was easy to break and subdue. All Mira could do was hold on and pray that, when the storm hit, Rumi would catch her.

Zoey was panting wildly as she watched, sweating in the potent heat rolling off Rumi’s body as her patterns burnt and ionized the air. Her eyes couldn’t leave Mira’s destruction, the cracks forming in Mira’s well-crafted stoic, stern facade growing large and jagged and so, so beloved and cherished.

So Zoey begged, her voice a desperate whine into Rumi’s ear. “May I kiss her? And touch her? She’s just so gorgeous, it’s agony. I know she’s yours right now, but I need her. Please, Rumi! Please…”

Rumi didn’t hesitate to pull her tongue from Mira’s mouth and nod, her voice deep and scorched as she released Mira’s throat and roughly grabbed her jaw while Mira coughed and sucked in oxygen, and Rumi forced her head to turn so Zoey had access. “Yes. God yes.”

The Honmoon around them rang in a cry as Rumi’s voice scratched along it and soaked into it, the penthouse rippling a distorted red and purple as Rumi growled encouragement to Zoey. Red lines rippled along Mira’s body, her eyes flashing open as the dark brown of them flickered, for the briefest moment, to red and purple as Rumi’s song silenced her own, blowing it out as easy as extinguishing a candle.

Practically sobbing in gratitude, Zoey immediately lurched up and in so that she was in reach to capture Mira’s lips. “Thank you... It’s been ages since I last got to do this. Thank you.”

Rumi chuckled low, a dark pleasure in it as she watched.

There was only the briefest moment of hesitation as Zoey pressed her forehead to Mira’s sweat-soaked one, the two of them looking into each other’s eyes with the same cracked, vulnerable stare. But everything there was to say, everything they had kept between each other, every secret kiss and fuck and promise of we shouldn’t keep doing this, was laid bare between them when Zoey smiled in question, and Mira nodded in permission.

Before she closed the final millimeters of distance, Zoey growled to Rumi with a slight turn of her head and a manic grin. “Now break her, Rumi. Break her apart. She’ll love the way it hurts.”

It wasn’t like Rumi needed the permission, but she smirked with wide, bared fangs and growled in agreement, before twisting her wrist back slightly so she could press the pad of her thumb to Mira’s clit and add constant, circling pressure with every harsh, slick thrust from her fingers.

Mira cried out, her eyes shining with overstimulated, unshed tears as she trembled, and her moan was caught by Zoey when Zoey finally kissed her, as familiar as a cherished memory. There was old, whispered balance in the kiss, something nurtured, a dance between two people who loved each other and knew each other to the core.

It had Mira’s head swimming and the twitching in her hips growing violent and sore, made worse when Rumi grabbed her throat again and pinned her harshly to prepare her. The next thrust from Rumi’s fingers was so violent and rough it could have been described as hateful by an outside observer, but in truth it was so utterly and deeply the opposite. Mira cried out into Zoey’s mouth, a constant stream of pleas and begging swallowed by the other girl but making their way to Rumi’s ears regardless as the Honmoon rippled and churned around them.

The time of edging and learning was long over, Mira could feel it in how Rumi had found her hard rhythm and wasn’t deviating, her aim perfect and cruel as she had Mira dripping onto the couch and the sounds of her soaked desperation crude and spectacular. No, Rumi was finally, finally, going to give her what she desperately wanted.

Wrapped around them, the Honmoon sang, and Rumi’s eyes widened as a pale light began to grow in Mira’s chest as her soul and song rose to the surface, conducted out by the melody the three of them were sharing between them. Rumi needed this, and Mira knew it, knew it to the core of herself, and her soul itself reached out right back.

I’m here. I can take it. Sing with me. Sing…

So Rumi sang as only a creature like her could, leaning down to purr directly into Mira’s ear so it soaked into her song at full volume. “I’ll worship you too, if you let me. I’ll pray at your altar, if you want me. Just stay here tonight, fallen angel, and try to make a devil out of me.”

The light growing in Mira’s chest pulsed in a low hum as it rippled and danced at Rumi’s hellfire whispers, Mira’s eyes opening wide and her pupils shrinking into pins as she stared up at the roof. Every joint was violently shaking as it built, Rumi’s voice and words hypnotic and powerful as it took Mira’s already wavering mind and kissed it into silence.

“Sometimes selfish prayers come true, that must be why I get to be here with you.”

Mira tried to pull her hands free from Zoey’s grip with all of her strength, as wild as a rabid animal, and Zoey released her. Mira grabbed for Rumi desperately, clawing and pulling at every inch she could find, and the blue light shining out from her heart shifted to a pure, intimate pink.

Rewarding Mira’s desperate grabbing with a soft kiss and bite to her earlobe, Rumi fucked her in strong, relentless thrusts, the only thing stopping her fingers and wrist from cramping being the years of fitness and flexibility. In her blood, she knew she could do this for hours, and a hissing snarl in her mind wondered if she or Mira would tap out first if it was any other day.

When the light in Mira’s chest finally began to escape, twirling out in mystical threads that slid through the air in a desperate search, Rumi followed an instinct she knew was not that of a human, and pressed down her entire body weight against Mira’s form. But then the threads of Mira’s soul latched onto her own, and Rumi’s eyes flew open as they connected with each other.

It was loud, but not discordant, both of their songs in perfect, deafening harmony as Mira embraced Rumi’s noise and welcomed it in. The inferno inside of Rumi’s scorched, strained being rushed along the new channel in a torrent of plasma and howling, and sang across Mira’s strings and chords into the music hall of her heart.

The room turned a blinding pink as Rumi’s patterns rushed with the color from her eyes to her fingertips and toes, the wild, aroused red vanishing in a lightning flash as she grabbed for Mira on every level down to the threads of their souls.

Through the broken dam, the river crashed, and Mira grabbed for more to welcome it just as long as Rumi didn’t stop. So Rumi didn’t, simply basking in the harmony, the precious connection only she could form and know, and sang softly against Mira’s skin.

“It’s no holy thing when I touch you. There’s no church for what I hope will come. I know I’m no saint, beautiful. Because it’s you who I hope is…undone.”

Mira threw her head back in a silent scream as her climax howled through her, the brown of her eyes washing pure purple and pink as she locked her legs around Rumi and pulled her in tight and close, a maelstrom crashing through her nerves and thoughts and washing away anything that wasn’t Rumi, Rumi, Rumi.

From where she was watching, eyes wide and her fingers furious inside of her shorts, Zoey cried out when her own climax violently struck, and she had to bite down on Rumi’s shoulder to stop herself trembling so hard she’d fall harder as she soaked her fingers, her own song calling out to the others and being absolutely, lovingly answered.

The Honmoon glowed with a solar flare as their souls sang together, overflowing out of Mira and out into the universe as the plucked chords that held the world’s vibrations in harmonious resonance. A world stitched together, came undone, and stitched together again in constant spirals as Mira’s climax stretched out.

Rumi didn’t stop, she refused to, her fingers cruel and needy from just how radiant Mira was when she came, and she snarled in awestruck admiration before claiming Mira’s lips in a bruising kiss before Mira had even stopped trembling.

It was too much, it was too fucking much, but Rumi didn’t stop, and Mira never wanted her to. Barely a minute later, her second orgasm hit, riding the tide of the first, and she howled into Rumi’s mouth as tears ran down her cheeks.

Glowing in pulsing, loving pinks that could only belong to one person, Rumi finally slowed in her thrusting and softened away from roughness, but she kept moving in gentle strokes as she coaxed Mira’s aftershocks out of her and dragged it out lovingly.

Rumi hummed a soft, mindless tune against Mira’s skin as she trailed a row of featherlight kisses from her temple up to her brow, and Rumi smiled against the skin when Mira whimpered weakly at the affection.

Once the trembling and twitches eased and faded, she carefully pulled her fingers out of Mira’s abused cunt, and pressed a final kiss to the center of her forehead to tell her that it was over.

As Mira finally slumped, boneless and fragile, with tear streaks on her cheeks and every breath a quivering whimper, Rumi easily guided her as she slid out from between Mira’s legs and carefully stood up.

A pale thread of pure light still pulsed and ebbed between them, the delicate flow of concentrated power and song swimming out from Rumi’s being and into Mira’s, but the glow it was causing inside Mira’s chest was beginning to fade and settle as exhaustion took hold.

Rumi gently readjusted Mira’s limp form on the couch and made sure she was settled in on the pillows, adjusting her with soft, delicate movements and quiet murmurs, each word making Mira’s face relax and the exhausted whimpers turn to relaxed hums.

After pulling some of the blankets up over her, Rumi pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead, and straightened up just as the tendril of light connecting them unraveled and curled back into the Honmoon beneath them.

Rumi grunted, rolling her shoulders and sighing at the cracking of every joint and muscle as tension that had been wrapped around them like chains for almost twenty-four hours finally fell free, and she smiled down at Mira’s resting form.

Dark marks trailed over Mira’s skin, and even though only the dozens on her neck were visible above the blankets, Rumi knew that a chessboard of black bruises and bite marks ran from Mira’s neck down to her lower thighs. Scratch marks on her back and waist would be needing a proper look over the next few days to make sure they were fine, and Mira was definitely going to need one hell of a drink of water…

But overall, she looked beautiful more than anything else. Radiant and glowing as her soul bathed in what it had taken from Rumi and flooded every inch of her inner self with it. By the end, her eyes had been bright and sparkling, and her moans and pleas had been so melodic that the Honmoon had answered them. As a hunter, Mira was a flawless conduit, and yet Rumi had filled her to bursting and enjoyed how it broke her.

The sound of shuffling and then padded footsteps brought Rumi out of her admiring thoughts, and she turned her head to watch as Zoey stepped up beside her. Zoey had pulled her shirt back on, but it was sitting wrong, the loose collar slipping down one shoulder in a losing fight against gravity. Each inch of skin that was revealed was tantalizing and smooth.

Rumi wanted to press a kiss to each freckle and nuzzle into her neck and taste her pulse, wanted to run her hands through the black hair that was still unkempt and messy, wanted to stare into those big chocolate eyes and see desire and joy in them.

Even though Zoey had pulled her shirt back on and tidied herself up somewhat, her face was still flushed from just how hard she’d came watching Rumi reduce Mira to a wreck.

Flushed, messy, and barely put together, Zoey was glorious.

She was so beautiful. Rumi had always known it, but until now she’d never known what to do with it other than admire and bask in the glow. Instincts that had been dormant for her entire life were finally stirring, and new impulses tickled and teased her muscles. Rumi wanted, she craved, and it was exciting just to feel it.

Seeming to feel what was going through Rumi’s soul, as if she could hear it on the air as a song, Zoey stepped closer and turned to face her properly, tilting her chin up and smiling with soft permission for Rumi to close the distance if she desired to

She did. God she did, so she let the howling inside her heart make her brave again.

The kiss was soft and sweet, a quiet moment in the eye of a storm that was shaking the world, and it felt utterly, fantastically selfish to take that peace and make it theirs. Zoey wrapped her arms around Rumi’s neck and sighed happily when Rumi held her around the waist, the kiss deepening as Rumi’s chest rumbled and the Honmoon chimed beneath their feet at the sound.

But Zoey didn’t allow it to grow too intense, instead gently breaking it off at Rumi’s first purr, and she smiled against Rumi’s lips with a quick follow-up kiss that held a silent promise to not be the last they shared.

They were going to have a lot to talk about, once Rumi was back in control of her own mind and soul. But Zoey could see in Rumi’s eyes that there was still quite a way to go. The temporary quiet wouldn’t last, and Zoey watched the encroaching storm clouds swirling within the oceanic depths of Rumi’s patterns, and felt the rumble of thunder in the trembling of Rumi’s muscles and the stuttering of her breaths.

No, Rumi wasn’t done, and it wouldn’t be long until the remaining pressure began to chew at her again. Mira had done her part beautifully, though. She always did.

Zoey smiled as she looked down at where Mira was recovering and slowly coming back to herself, and gently used the very tips of her fingers to brush some of Mira’s stray hairs back and off her face. And yet, even though it was affection for Mira, Zoey’s attention was entirely on how Rumi was reacting next to her.

Considering Rumi didn’t growl or try to bite her hand off for touching Mira right in front of her, Zoey took it as a good sign, and turned her head with a grin. “So, welcome back. Yeah?”

Rumi nodded slowly, looking down at her hands and arms and studying her patterns. As the tendrils of light had flowed from her to Mira when she was able to finally release the maelstrom that had been blistering her insides, the radiance of her markings had started to subside as the pressure had abated.

Ancient dam walls no longer buckled under the weight of what they’d been holding back, the cracks lingering and brittle but without crumbling. Instead they sat like unstitched wounds, no longer bleeding out but open and raw.

The patterns hadn't faded yet, but the red had shifted back to an incredibly pale pink that was so close to a soft pearl that she could feel the harmony on the very periphery. It wasn’t gone, but it was quieter. Her inner voice was finally discernible over a howling orchestra that had now settled to a purr.

At least she could think somewhat clearly again, the claws on her fingers receding and her fangs shortening. It was just her insides that still twisted and burned now.

“Yes. I think so.” clenching her fists and testing the fission inside her muscles, Rumi sighed in relief. “For now, at least.”

Zoey beamed happily and nudged their shoulders together. “So it helped? Experiment successful?”

“God yes. I feel… amazing. Everything about that was amazing.” Rumi laughed, closing her eyes to allow herself to bask in the glow for a few self-indulgent moments.

Everything inside her was humming and vibrating, static electricity tickling her cells and her mind’s tide like a stream instead of the crashing oceans. A pleasant exhaustion was soaking into her muscles as the adrenaline and overflowing heat faded, and it was satisfying in a way that was entirely new while also absolutely instinctual.

At the sight of Rumi shivering in satisfaction, a familiar type of smile in the corners of her lips, Zoey giggled and pressed a swift kiss to her cheek. “Good! I’m really glad. But I’m also willing to bet a decent chunk of it is just the usual afterglow that comes from a good lay, especially if it’s your first time.”

Rumi blushed, warmth touching her cheeks and briefly making her shy, and she shrugged. “I…suppose I wouldn’t know how to tell the difference yet, considering.”

“Not yet, anyway.” pressing a swift kiss to Rumi’s shoulder, Zoey stepped back and turned on her heel to head into the kitchen, flicking on the light as she went.

Rumi blinked, and looked over her shoulder in surprise. “‘Yet’? I’m sorry?”

“I can tell you’re not fully okay again yet, Rumi. I can see it all over you. Literally.” Zoey giggled when Rumi blushed again and looked away. The other girl’s shields had always been impressive, but her heart and soul were carved into her skin now, and Zoey smiled gently as she reached into one of their cupboards and grabbed two cups. “I know you’re acting more okay than you are. I know you, beautiful.”

Rumi didn’t respond, instead crossing her arms and continuing to look away with a heavy sigh. Because she knew that Zoey wasn’t wrong about that untamable something still curling and scratching inside of her.

The howl had softened to a low rumble, but still she bled into her song, soaking the strings and slicking them out of tune with each other. Instead it was the orchestra of everything else that played, a soft chorus instead of a crescendo but a song all the same.

It no longer controlled her, not as profoundly, but instead it continued to hold her and cut into her as she kept trying to pull back out of it.

Zoey hummed in confirmation as she returned, and she held out one of the cups for Rumi to take, nudging Rumi in the stomach with it until she distractedly took it. “But first, you need some water, and I’m going to take a look at whatever the hell you did to her.”

As Rumi obediently took a sip of the water, she did look over at Mira with concern at the reminder, and Zoey was quick to quietly reassure her with a mischievous grin. “Don’t worry, she’ll be absolutely ecstatic about each mark, but it’s always worth checking to see if we actually need to get the first-aid kit.”

“You actually read my mind, about all of that.”

“Aww, really? You’ve got good instincts then. Not that I’m surprised. You love taking care of everybody. Just never yourself.” Zoey hummed as she placed the second cup on their coffee table, and dropped to her knees so she could gently pull the blanket down Mira’s body and start carefully checking the scratches and bites she had access to without disturbing Mira’s rest too much. “Luckily, right now that’s my job. Now drink the entire thing. Trust me, you’ll thank me later.”

Rumi nodded and drank some more, the relief of it on her throat and insides great enough she sighed. As tempting as it was to simply gulp the entire thing down, she knew that doing so too soon after exercise would just make her throw up.

Instead she took disciplined sips, letting her thoughts wander as she watched Zoey’s careful care, before she looked down at the cup in quiet anxiety. “So…I did okay?”

Zoey snorted at the absurdity of the question, and looked over her shoulder in baffled amusement, raising her eyebrow. “Are you seriously asking for a freaking review on how well you screwed our bandmate, Rumi?”

“Yes? Maybe? I kinda lost my head for most of it!” Rumi protested, trying to look stern, but her face was red as her patterns flashed a shy, healthy purple. “I wasn’t exactly coordinating. So maybe!”

Laughing for a moment at just how cute it was, and smiling at the sweet source, Zoey grinned apologetically when Rumi looked mortified, and gestured to where Mira was only managing to have a single eye open. “Rumi, look at her. This is a girl who can do an entire concert and then a demon hunt without even yawning. Yeah! You did good!”

It was enough reassurance for Rumi’s shoulders to relax, even though she was still blushing a deep red from embarrassment, and Zoey stroked a few hairs off Mira’s face as she thought over it all.

It had definitely not been how she’d expected the night to go. Hell, it hadn’t been anything at all like she’d expected the last twenty-four hours to be. Everything was different now in ways that she was willing to bet that none of them knew how to word. But it didn’t feel… bad.

Change was scary, sure. But when Rumi and Mira were by her side, nothing scared her anymore. They were her girls, and she was theirs.

But all the same, Zoey did squirm, and she felt warmth touch her own face as she looked over at Rumi again and winced with a shy smile. “Honestly, everything about that was…really hot. I kinda got carried away, though. Sorry about that.”

Rumi’s eyebrows shot up as she had the cup up to her lips to swallow the last of the water, and she smiled just as shyly and shook her head as she bent down to place the empty cup down on the coffee table. “Oh. Don’t apologize. It was really, really flattering. Knowing you were watching, and that you liked it.”

Unable to bite back her pleased smirk, Zoey raised an eyebrow, and her voice took on a teasing sing-song lilt as she giggled. “Aww, so you liked putting on a show for me?”

Rumi almost dropped the cup the final inch onto the table, and her head whipped up so she could hit Zoey was a glare that was betrayed yet again by the pulse of shy purple that started on her face and rippled down her neck. “Don’t tease me right now, Zoey. I’ll die.”

“Okay! Okay. No teasing.” Zoey grinned in an apology she only half meant, and picked up the still full cup, turning to where Mira had stirred and was looking far more awake for the moment.

At Zoey’s encouraging hum, Mira managed to sit up with a sore, satisfied groan, every muscle twitching and trembling just from the exhausted effort of doing so. But she managed it, grunting at how her hips and thighs ached, and the sensitive throbbing still in her core.

Silently, she took the cup from Zoey and began to take her own sips, thanking Zoey with her eyes before flicking her attention to where Rumi was watching shyly.

Rumi had absolutely no idea what to do or what the decorum was as she met Mira’s eye, so she shuffled in place awkwardly, a small, hopeful smile in the corners of her lips that silently asked a thousand questions she didn’t have the courage to verbalize.

So the answer Mira gave was in kind, as she smirked happily while drinking, and gave a satisfied roll of her shoulders and twisted to crack her spine and stretch out her waist. The soreness was so delicious that she groaned, swallowing a mouthful of water with a sigh, and shot Rumi a wink.

For the briefest ripple, dark red returned to Rumi’s light at the sound and show, her eyes sharpening and darkening once more as she watched Mira bask in the aftermath of what she’d done to her. Something possessive and smug curled its way out of Rumi’s depths and touched the expression on her face, turning it dark and pleased, but there was a roused temptation on the periphery on it like embers threatening a resumption of the blaze.

But Mira, pleased as she was to see it and flattered to be the focus of it, unfortunately had to shake her head with a small grin. As utterly incredible as she now knew from experience that it would be, there was no way her body could handle just what sort of fury Rumi craved her with.

Despite the heat and noise sitting beneath the surface of Rumi’s skin, she took the rejection perfectly, a smile of understanding blooming on her face as the red light of temptation softened. Instead of any shyness or insecurity, she winked at Mira with a pleased sparkle in her eyes, twitching an eyebrow up in the silent message that Mira had been amazing too, and Mira beamed at her with an abandon she couldn’t squash back down.

Zoey managed to hold back the amused roll of her eyes as she watched Mira’s heart eyes, knowing if she pointed them out then Mira would kill them both and then possibly herself out of shattered pride. “C’mon Mira, easy sips, then nap time. That’s a good girl.”

The words had Mira’s eyes widen, and she shot a livid, horrified glare to Zoey, her voice an octave higher and more strained than normal as she hissed. “Hey! Don’t patronize me with that shit.”

“Then stop blushing when we say things like that.” Zoey shot back, raising an eyebrow and poking the still half-full cup of water to get Mira to sip it again. When Mira had no retort beyond just looking away with a huff, Zoey snorted. “Yeah, exactly. Denial’s not just a river in Egypt. Accept yourself.”

Mira lifted the cup to her lips as she continued to glare into the middle-distance, muttering a string of graphic insults that had Zoey giggle. But she drank the water with gentle sips, slumping against the backrest. With every swallow and deep breath, some of the scratches and bites across her ribs and the ridges of her spine stung painfully, and she could tell from the sharpness just how deep they had likely gone.

But just as Zoey had told Rumi to expect, Mira was absolutely not displeased by it, instead closing her eyes and finding a deep satisfaction at the grounding stinging and focused throbbing across her body. Each one was a beacon on the trail home back to her body after her mind had been practically drugged and torn to shreds, and she sighed tiredly but happily as she finished off her water.

Meanwhile Zoey had sat down properly, and was resting her back against the coffee table as she stared out of the window, waiting for Mira to finish her water so she could take the cups back to the kitchen. None of Mira’s cuts were a concern, but a few would warrant cream before she slept properly, just in case. The bruises and bite marks would last a few days too, and plenty were in places far too hard to hide them.

Thankfully they didn’t have any shows for the next few months. All three of them were great with makeup, they had years of experience hiding injuries, but all it would take was a single hickey being glanced under concert lights by a sharp eyed fan with a good quality phone camera.

Mira wouldn’t be particularly bothered, she didn’t care about that sort of thing, and while the thought had Zoey anxiously biting her lip to chew it she knew that Rumi would be horrified beyond all measure if it happened.

It was a silly thing to worry about, considering there were no shows for three months, and chances were they wouldn’t be leaving the penthouse for a solid week anyway if they could help it.

Frankly, the fact that her mind had worked on the assumption that such a thing might happen again close enough to a show for it to be worth keeping in mind, had Zoey scoff at herself and grin at the sheer absurdity of the past day and night.

Rumi had sat down on the armrest of their couch, her fingers running lazily through Mira’s hair once Mira had laid back down and closed her eyes, as she gazed out the massive windows and over the cityscape.

Seoul never slept, there were always lights and noise as the city itself sang in its own orchestra of each individual person moving and living around each other, and one of her favorite pastimes was to stand out on her balcony and watch the way the Honmoon rippled and danced over the city like the surface of the ocean, a spiritual beauty to the sway of it.

But right now, she simply watched the city the way that all other people saw it, and listened to the quiet sounds of Mira’s breaths deepening as she dozed, and Zoey’s heavy sighs punctuating whatever she was turning around in her mind.

Rumi looked down at where Zoey had her eyes closed in thought, and was drumming her fingertips on her outstretched leg in a mindless tune with no beginning or end. Making sure to keep her voice soft so she didn’t immediately disturb Mira again, Rumi hummed to get Zoey’s attention. “...what is it?”

Zoey shrugged relaxedly and opened her eyes, looking up at Rumi with a soft expression, and a thoughtful, crooked smile. “Nothing. I’m just thinking. About all of this, about us, about you…”

Sucking in a breath, Rumi’s mouth opened wordlessly for a moment before clicking closed again, and she thinned her lips as she immediately peered as deep into Zoey’s eyes as she would be allowed.

And Zoey let her in entirely, letting Rumi see the warmth mixing in with a deep confusion, something optimistic and surprised making her smile crooked as a whimsy had the corners of her eyes crinkling.

Not seeing any signs of disappointment or regret, Rumi swallowed and managed a shaky nod. “Oh. Are they good thoughts, at least?”

“Yes. Wonderful ones, actually. All of my thoughts about you usually are, y’know.” Zoey grinned, rising to her feet and grabbing both empty cups to take them to the kitchen.

Rumi followed quietly, her skin cooling as her patterns finally finished settling back to pale silver, and she leant back against the kitchen island with her elbows propped on it lazily. As Zoey quickly finished stacking the dishwasher, not wanting to leave a job half-done after she’d been distracted from it earlier, Rumi couldn’t help but follow her with her eyes.

Whether in the dark shadows of the night, or under the kitchen lights, Zoey bloomed just from existing and travelling through the world. She saw the world around them all with a brightness and vibrancy that she had the unique gift of being able to translate into words and rhythm, barely able to rap as fast as her own thoughts, and often sinking below the surface of the rushing rivers of her heart.

Zoey was so absolutely, absurdly colorful and loud in how she lived, loved, and fought for what was hers. She never gave half of herself to anything, not since the day Rumi had first met her. When she smiled, it split her face. When she wept, she cried rivers. When she raged, she scorched the world.

If infinity could somehow be a person, Zoey was stitched out of it, and she made beauty out of endlessness.

Even though Rumi felt her patterns spark and simmer on her skin as she watched Zoey exist, she didn’t care, barely noticing the soft light blue that was taking over the surface of her soul. Instead she happily let her thoughts become too raw and real to have any internal dialogue as she simply basked in watching.

Zoey’s cheeks slowly darkened as she felt Rumi’s eyes pinned to her. She wasn’t even sure if Rumi was blinking. But she managed to mask the shyness as best she could as she closed the dishwasher and rested against the sink with her back turned for a moment.

For seven years, Rumi had seen her, ever since the day they met and Rumi had looked at her exuberance and smiled with nothing but acceptance and delight at the times that were to come.

Never too much, and always enough.

Zoey sucked in a breath for courage, and turned, leaning back against the sink as she looked across to meet Rumi’s stare with her own. Barely two feet of distance separated them, close enough Zoey could feel the heat of Rumi’s light as it began to grow once more.

Whatever it was Rumi was thinking, whatever she was seeing in her, Zoey could tell from the serene sky blue lighting up her body that it was happy, and that it was about her. She was making Rumi happy, without even doing anything.

That wasn’t enough. Rumi deserved so much more joy than what she could get just from looking.

So Zoey pushed off the sink and let the momentum take her the two steps to close the distance, until she was close enough to feel Rumi’s breath, and she reached up slowly to cup Rumi’s cheek and jaw in her hand, still staring directly into her eyes.

Rumi leant into the touch with a wordless purr, a soft, grateful smile coloring her features. The patterns underneath Zoey’s touch bloomed bright, but it wasn’t the violence of the red earlier. Instead of rushing across Rumi’s body like a wildfire, it spread like glowing water through the channels and paths.

The sight took Zoey’s breath away as she watched and saw the contrast, and it had her heart skip when Rumi smiled. A smile equally as soft and happy came to life on Zoey’s face as she danced her fingertips around the thin lines mapping Rumi’s cheek and neck, in awe of the trail of bright blue she left behind in luminous paint-strokes.

Reaching up with her other hand, Zoey reverently ran it over Rumi’s arm, then across to her exposed collarbone. A quiet, awestruck study as she made the light dance, with Rumi trembling and twitching under the touch as her hypersensitive patterns filled her mind with nothing but color and feeling.

Everything slowly faded away under Zoey’s ministrations. Every bit of insecurity, or anxiety, or shyness about everything that had happened. As Zoey’s fingers glided over her ribs through her shirt, and slid under the hem of it slightly to coax along her abs and the curve of her hip, Rumi’s eyes closed as she slowly reached up to place her hands on Zoey’s shoulders.

But not to stop her, instead to simply touch, and Zoey hummed quietly in distracted encouragement as she ghosted the pad of her thumb across Rumi’s bottom lip so she could trace along the spiderwebbed lines leading up towards the eye that was still glowing gold.

Gently pulling up the bottom of Rumi’s shirt with her other hand, giving Rumi plenty of time to stop her, Zoey placed the flat of her palm on Rumi’s waist to stroke along the widest of her patterns that connected her thighs, waist, and ribs in the one bright snake. It was sensitive enough that Rumi whimpered, a sound so utterly beautiful that Zoey couldn’t help but try and coax another from her by tracing up and across her stomach, bunching Rumi’s shirt just below the swell of her chest.

Rumi’s hands slid up from Zoey’s shoulders to her neck, cupping her face in her hands in a light request, a hope, and it was one that Zoey was more than happy to gift them both with as she closed the final half-step of distance and kissed her softly.

There was no intensity to it. No raging lust or burning desire. Instead it was Zoey letting Rumi know how beautiful she found her. How precious, and special. How much she loved her, and wanted Rumi to let her love her even more.

The mix of dry sob and whimper that Rumi let out as she nodded at the flood of adoration Zoey had been soaking her in, was the perfect permission Zoey needed, a heartfelt encouragement, and Zoey smiled against her lips and pulled back half an inch so she could whisper.

“Come on, honey. Let me take care of you, now. You did so well, but you deserve to be pampered too.”

When Rumi whined again, Zoey slid her hand down to tuck her fingers into the waistband of Rumi’s shorts and stepped back, tugging Rumi to coax her back into the living room, kissing her all the while.

Rumi followed. How could she ever do anything else?

She would always follow.

Chapter Text

The day that Zoey had first met Rumi, she’d been barely seventeen and Rumi eighteen and a half, and Rumi’s smile had been a gentle, reserved thing. Not like Zoey’s, which had been stretching her cheeks so wide that they hurt, with her eyes sparkling in delight as she looked at the other girl from up close for the first time.

But there’d been no chance of making any of it go away. No matter how hard Zoey tried, she couldn’t stamp down the excitement that had been sparking through her bones and making her bounce in place. Even though there had been other distractions; the quick conversation between Celine and her mother, the rumbling of her mother’s car idling, the chorus of birdsong in the trees around them, Zoey hadn’t noticed any of it.

Instead she had beamed from the soul as she met Rumi, and all of her manners and etiquette flew out the window. Should she bow? Was this a handshake situation? What was the protocol here, exactly? This was Ryu Rumi, and she was standing right in front of her, smiling at Zoey in the way someone did when they knew something nobody else did.

Zoey only snapped out of her staring when her mother got her attention and pulled her into a tight, loving hug. A quick ‘Be good.’ ‘Good luck’ ‘Call once you get settled in’ and just like that, it was over, her mother giving Celine a final respectful farewell and leaving Zoey in the care of a musical legacy generations strong.

It felt different this time to watch her mother go and feel the distance begin to grow, the thread of family stretching long and taut. But after years of the sensation every time she felt her mother’s eyes on her back as she boarded the plane back to the states, Zoey knew how to carry distance.

Frankly, the most painful part of stepping out of her old life and into the new, was how her father wasn’t there to kiss her on the top of her head with a whispered well-wish, his voice always filled with a faith she hoped she still deserved. He’d expressed the sentiment over the phone, but it wasn’t the same.

Nothing was the same, now. So her mother’s car vanished down the drive, and Zoey watched her go with steadiness to the set of her mouth.

The proper goodbye had happened back home, now was the time for helloes.

Quickly dropping her bag at her side as she turned, Zoey grinned nervously when she looked between the three women who were watching and waiting patiently for her, and she immediately bowed with what she was pretty sure was the appropriate deference.

“Hi! It’s so, so cool to finally meet you properly.” Zoey grinned, looking up when she heard a chuckle, and her eyes sparkled when she caught Rumi trying her best to swallow another sound.

When Celine raised her eyebrow the slightest amount, something appraising and amused hidden deeply in the expression, Zoey straightened with a sheepish laugh and shoved her hands into the pockets of her pants.

“Sorry, this is just…really awesome. I have no idea what to expect, so, I’m kinda winging it here!” chuckling, Zoey turned her attention to the girl she didn’t recognize, and waved. “Hi! I’m Zoey!”

The girl, tall and sharp featured with such a potent ferocity to her resting face and posture that Zoey wouldn’t have been surprised if crowds on the sidewalk parted around her like a school of fish avoids a shark, raised an eyebrow and looked her up and down in return.

It was a quick study, nothing intense or particularly scrutinous, but Zoey still shuffled under the gaze. The girl wasn’t shy or reserved in how she ran her eyes along Zoey, taking in her outfit, her physique, and the way she held herself. It wasn’t anything lecherous, Zoey could tell. Instead she was being measured against a scale she didn’t know.

So she squirmed but stared right back, making sure to maintain the smile on her face.

Rumi and Celine were watching the third girl as well, Celine with an indifferent patience, while Rumi instead looked…nervous? Hopeful? Zoey couldn’t quite pin it down. But clearly they both valued this other girl’s initial assessment of her, and considering she and Rumi looked to be the same age…

Before Zoey’s mind consciously finished coming to the obvious conclusion, the girl finished her quick study with a twitch of her eyebrow and a tightness to the corner of her mouth. She nodded once, in both greeting and also approval.

“Mira.”

Just like that, one became two became three, and Zoey’s heart pounded inside of her chest as she, Rumi, and Mira looked between each other.

Beneath their feet, the strange, unique threads that Zoey had always known weren’t just her imagination, swirled and hummed as the three of them stood together for the first time. Music itself, the very concept and universal constant, rejoiced and settled as Rumi and Zoey looked into each other’s eyes with smiles.

Zoey rocked back and forth on her heels excitedly, her grin splitting her face. “Sorry for geeking out, this is just really cool. I know we met at my audition, but this is…”

“Yeah. It’s pretty different.” Rumi nodded gently, her eyes softening as she reached out to put her hand on Zoey’s arm to ease her out of her anxious rocking. “Are you okay? It’s nice to properly meet you too.”

With her hoodie stripped off and tied loosely around her waist due to the onslaught of the afternoon sun, Zoey’s arms were bare, so the feel of Rumi’s hand directly on her skin was a point of impossible warmth. Calluses on Rumi’s fingers were firm, but her touch was so gentle, and Zoey felt as if an echo radiated out from the spot, sending ripples of sparks and flames down to her atoms.

In an instant, every muscle in Zoey’s body settled, unclenching and soothed. The rocking stopped, her fingers stopped twitching, and she managed a slow, deep breath for the first time since grabbing her bag out of her mother’s car after they’d pulled up.

Zoey looked down at Rumi’s hand, her eyes wide and her cheeks warm, and she gave a shy nod. “Yup! I’m groovy!”

It wasn’t particularly convincing to anybody. But a gentle squeeze from Rumi had Zoey relax even further, her shoulders dropping, and she managed to look back up into Rumi’s eyes.

Rumi’s smile was a promise, kind and determined. The steady hand of a lantern bearer, standing at every crossroads with a light held high, and directions for the way home.

An ancient electric circuit completed, as Rumi’s gentle eyes and the rippling lights beneath Zoey’s feet ran through her from each end and met in the center of her chest, housing a spark inside of her ribcage.

So Zoey’s expression softened, the tight anxious knots easing out and her own smile becoming more sincere and grounded, and Rumi’s eyes pulsed with warmth. She dropped her hand from Zoey’s arm, much to Zoey’s immediate, instinctual dismay.

“Yeah. I’m okay. Just…overwhelmed, really.” Zoey looked between everyone, her eyes lingering on where Celine had been watching the interaction impassively. “So…what now?”

Celine folded her hands behind her back politely and shot Rumi a quick look, with the slightest upturned tick to the corner of her lips in approval. A small expression that seemed to carry multitudes, if how Rumi straightened confidently was any indicator.

But Celine’s attention returned to Zoey, and she nodded in continued appraisal. “Now we get you settled in, and explain everything. I imagine you have a lot of questions.”

“Oh! Yeah, absolutely. I’ve written a list! Hang on, it’s on my phone.” Zoey scrunched up the corner of her mouth as she scrounged around in her pocket for her phone, spinning it out into her hand playfully.

As she punched in her lockcode without needing to look at the screen, she swept her eyes over their surroundings. The estate was large, but Zoey could tell even through the gate that it was mostly dedicated to gardens and nature, with the actual structure itself surprisingly modest given the acreage.

It was old, too. Sure, plenty of details and fittings had been updated and modernized, but it was built on the foundations of a traditional hanok, and the bones of the original structure remained.

The sort of place that was tucked so perfectly away that it had no street address, and could never be stumbled across by accident. The drive had been long, but beautiful, and the serenity of being so far away from any bustling civilization was present in the rays of the sun through smog-less air, and the whistle of birdsong.

Zoey looked around in awe, her smile wondrous and enamored, and she spun in a slow circle. “Is this really where we’ll be staying and rehearsing and stuff? I can’t remember ever being somewhere so quiet!”

Watching Zoey’s fascination in quiet amusement, Rumi and Mira glanced at each other, Rumi’s eyebrows up and a miniscule hopeful smile on her lips. Mira’s face was far harder to read, and her arms were still crossed, but her usual scowl had faded away and turned into an aloof indifference.

Mira clicked her tongue and raised her eyebrow, before stepping closer to Zoey. “Mind if I take a look at that list? Cuz I’ve got a few questions of my own to add on, even though I’ve been given the basics already.”

Zoey jumped at being addressed, and startled at how Mira had gotten closer after having been a statue the entire time. But she recovered in an instant, grinning with a nod before casually passing over her phone into Mira’s extended hand. “Sure! Just in my notes app. Most of my first ones are about the idol stuff, for sure, since really I’m still trying to figure out why I was picked.”

When the response she got was Rumi and Celine both giving her the same identical frown, though Celine’s was far smaller and restrained, Zoey spread her hands and shrugged helplessly. But there was no insecurity or offense in the gesture, simply a pure curiosity as she made a confused noise in her throat and shrugged a second time.

“I mean, I’m pretty good, at least I think I am, but I’m not good good, am I? Depends on what you were looking for, I guess. So, well, why me? Is it just because of the other stuff?” Zoey fired off, tapping into the wellspring of the thoughts that had been keeping her up every night since Celine had called her with the results of her audition. Rumi tilted her head with a curious, concerned frown, and Zoey immediately winced and clamped her mouth shut. “Sorry, sorry. That’s all just anxiety, hey? I promise I’ve got actual important questions too.”

Rumi sucked in a short breath as she shook her head, the frown gently shifting into a soft smile as she quickly placed her hand on Zoey’s arm again with a light chuckle. “Hey, no, it’s okay. I’m totally down to start answering them. But I guess the best place to start is by explaining the ‘other stuff’ and then going from there.”

After giving Zoey’s list of questions a quick scroll and raising her eyebrow at just how thorough they already were even without her input, Mira did add a few of her own to the very bottom, then passed Zoey her phone back with a snort. “Might as well open your mind so wide your brain might fall out. I still think most of it’s batshit crazy.”

Zoey giggled as she took her phone, delighted when Mira smirked back. “Cool! I have a few running theories, but there’s only so much I’ve been able to figure out on my own.”

Before anyone had the chance to ask her what she meant, Zoey closed her eyes and listened, placing her hand over her chest to feel her heartbeat through her shirt. Counting time with taps of her fingers, slipping into the rhythm of the metronome of flesh and blood, Zoey vocalized quietly to herself in a wordless hum.

It took enough concentration that her face tightened, every drop of the whimsy and delight that had been present until that point melting away and replaced with intense focus as she listened to everything that she could hear, both inside and out.

After managing to find and coax the melody she’d been looking for, Zoey extended her free hand out in front of her with the palm downwards and her fingers slightly curled. At the tips of her fingers, the air shimmered a crystalline blue, the sound of birdsong and wind chimes singing out from her touch as she strummed her fingers along an invisible piano.

With a spark of light, faster than a lightning strike, a shining object appeared in Zoey’s grip, and she opened an eye to check and make sure she’d managed it. Sighing in relief, since it would have been embarrassing to mess it up, Zoey grinned proudly as she playfully spun the undetailed dagger of pure light onto her palm and held it out.

“What the f-” Mira startled backwards as the small weapon appeared, materializing out of threads of light, and she stared at it with wide eyes. “How…did you know how to do that?!”

“Just kinda figured it out!” Zoey beamed proudly, her eyes bright and amused as she took in Mira’s shock, and she tossed the knife up and down with clumsy, unpracticed ease. But she’d noticed immediately that Celine was looking at it with intrigue instead of surprise, while Rumi was staring at Zoey herself in awe. Zoey’s eyes glinted victoriously, and she giggled. “So it is about that! Can you guys do it too?”

Mira recovered her composure faster than a breath, and scoffed with a shake of her head even though she couldn’t look away, and in fact stepped closer to study. “No! What the absolute hell?!”

With absolutely no hesitation, Zoey passed Mira the glowing dagger, and Mira raised it up to the light to study it closely. It was warm in her hand, as if she was holding a lit candle or a fresh mug of coffee on a winter morning, and it had a solid weight to it. But if it wasn’t for the basic shape and size, it wouldn’t have been really possible to tell it was any kind of dagger at all. There were no details or filigree, and the shape itself wasn’t like any that Mira had ever seen. The edge was imperfect too, barely sharper than a pair of scissors.

When Rumi quietly extended a hand in request, Mira passed it over for her to study, and Rumi hummed quietly to herself as she turned it back and forth between her hands, her eyes stunned as she examined it. After only a few moments, she turned to pass it to Celine, meeting the older woman’s eye.

The conversation between them was quick and silent, ending in Rumi giving a small, pleading smile, and Celine raising an eyebrow and nodding a single time in permission, to Rumi’s sudden restrained yet eager delight.

In the time it took for Rumi to turn from Celine and back to where Zoey was smiling at her and Mira was still studying Zoey with narrow, confused eyes, Rumi ran her own fingers along the Honmoon, and grabbed.

A sound like a violin rippled out from Rumi’s being in a pure, singing note, and the shifting threads under her feet responded, obediently stitching themselves together into the shape of her saingeom.

It was far more finely shaped than Zoey’s small knife, with a defined edge to the glistening blade of blue light, and a hilt and guard forged in shimmering bronze and steel. But there were none of the thin markings, amethyst insets, and details that would appear in later years. Not yet.

Mira and Zoey gaped as Rumi flourished her sword in a slow, graceful movement, with Mira’s face pale while Zoey gasped and quickly stepped forward for a closer look.

“Woah…that’s so cool…” Zoey peered in so closely she could hear the light singing of the saingeom as it resonated on key with Rumi’s song, and she bit her lip in awed fascination as she slowly studied every inch, starting at the tip and working towards the hilt where Rumi was holding it with familiar ease. “Yours is so much more detailed than mine. Is it that perfect every time? It fluctuates with me. Heck, sometimes they’re not even sharp.”

The slip in Zoey’s concentration as she found something far more interesting had her conjured dagger, not yet worthy of being called a shin-kal, unravel and turn into warm blue sparks in Celine’s grip.

But Celine had seen all she had to, and her appraisal was far lighter and fascinated as she watched Zoey study her ward’s weapon, and Celine folded her hands behind her back again. “Your weapons will grow finer and more personal over time, as you tune the songs you carry in every step and breath. It’s always a basic shape at first, a mere concept. But over time, they will become as unique to you as a fingerprint.”

Rumi smiled shyly when Zoey looked at her in wonder, and her cheeks were slightly darker as she unraveled and banished her saingeom again with barely a thought. “I managed to summon the basic shape of mine, like you can do, when I was thirteen. It wasn’t sharp enough to cut anything tougher than paper for another few months after that.”

Before the girls could get too lost staring at each other in surprise and awe, Celine cleared her throat to snap them out of their looking at each other, and beckoned with a light wave of her hand for them to follow her through the gate and into the estate proper. “The fact that you managed to learn how to do even that much on your own, with no training in regards to the Honmoon at all, is…very impressive, Zoey.”

Quickly grabbing up her bag again and throwing it over her shoulder, Zoey flushed red at the praise, and chuckled shyly as she followed Rumi and Mira along the path leading to the main house. “So…what’s a Honmoon?”

The way Rumi and Mira were both taking turns looking at her had her chest twisting and her face hot, and no amount of shy grins and casual shrugs was lessening the delight and fascination Rumi was looking at her with.

It was a look that Zoey had no idea what to do with. Until that day, it wasn’t one she’d ever known.

Here’s the thing about Zoey, the secret that she, at seventeen, had learned to play down; Zoey is a prodigy.

The wires in her brain were weirdly crossed, that had always been clear, and both her parents had given up on her ever ‘fitting in’ by middle-school. Her attention span was all over the place, her ability to prioritize things was nonsensical to anyone else, and she had figured out young that she had better chance explaining her thoughts with a pen than she’d ever manage off the cuff. The translation was delicate, if there was to be even the faintest chance of other people understanding.

But some things also simply just made sense to her. They always had.

When she was eleven, she read the dictionary cover to cover in a day, and had compiled a notarized list of her favorite words and reasons why they already meant the world to her. At twelve, her fingers brushed the keys of a dusty keyboard in a neglected music room, and just by ear she learned to make it sing in four months.

At thirteen, she won her first poetry slam. At fourteen, she won her ninth, then began to add music, and suddenly something new made sense to her, but in a way that nothing else had. If not to anyone else, then just to her, and that was enough.

And at sixteen, sitting up in her room at midnight in Burbank trying to distract herself from knowing that the next day was time to fly back to Korea for her Mother’s Turn Dealing With Her for six months, she had plucked the strings of a pattern only she could see, in tune to the song blaring through her headphones, and a thin blade rang like a chime as it appeared between her fingers for the first time.

The awestruck cheer she had let out had woken up the entire house, and even though she had to banish the knife in case her father sleepily came in to scold her, it was as easy as breathing to conjure it again once she knew she’d be left alone.

Nine months before she’d even heard the term ‘Honmoon’, it sang for her in pride and excitement for what was to come. What Zoey could be.

Things sometimes just…made sense, to Zoey.

People were harder. They were strange, and arhythmic. There was no pattern to people, no flow or process she could slip into and ride the tide of. Some were almost able to keep up with her, while others would look at her as if her existence was painted with the wrong colors and then whisper and giggle when she walked past. But there was no clear way to tell which one a new person was going to be.

The world was bright in ways that didn’t blind other people like it did her. It was loud in ways that didn’t make anyone else sometimes need to keep headphones on just to be able to think straight. The world was so alive just to exist in it, walking through it with so much to see and things to pay attention to.

People have always ended up leaving Zoey to every trail of butterflies that caught her eye, and the entire days that vanish into her notebooks. The way her grades are up and down like waves in the ocean and she’s never bothered by it, because they never felt important, and whichever parent was scolding her at the time would sigh the same sigh.

Friends came and went as she was sent back and forth across the world, all wind and no roots, and she had no choice but to be okay with that. Because her parents say they each love her too much to be the one to give her up, and that was meant to mean a lot. But love wasn’t one of those things that made sense from a glance, so Zoey isn’t sure.

Maybe it would make sense one day, once someone’s around for long enough for it to click, when a puzzle would have room just for her and maybe, just maybe, she’d be a part of a pretty picture that makes sense from up close and afar.

She’s not losing hope! Certainly not. Life has just begun, after all. And she knows she’s a little strange, and can see things nobody else can. That the audition had been a longshot and her mother had been aghast at her dropping out of school. Until Celine of the Sunlight Sisters, the Celine, had smoothed it over with promises of private tutors and future university opportunities.

Maybe she’s got a shot at something, now. Maybe she doesn’t. She’s not giving up. She’s not.

Okay, maybe she has been starting to lose hope a little. There’s only so many times a girl can hear her parents tell her that she’ll ‘find her place after graduation’ before the lesson that she’s a fish out of water starts to sink in.

Some things don’t make sense in life. And you gotta either grumble about it, or deal with it, and this opportunity was too cool to deserve any grumbling!

But still, Zoey stays nervously glued to Rumi’s shoulder as they walk up the drive of the estate that would be her home for the foreseeable future, and she gawks at the beauty of it. The way that even the wind through the trees sounds musical.

She laughs in awe at the gardens that she doesn’t yet know Rumi helps Celine slave over to maintain, rattling off the names of all the flowers she recognizes. Random facts memorized in passing glances at books and channel surfing past documentaries.

She looks up at the peerless view of the afternoon sky above them, far out from the city, and knows that the sight of the stars at night was going to be beautiful. After a lifetime being passed back and forth between two cities, she couldn’t wait.

She hoists her overfilled bag over her shoulder with an audible ‘oof’ that makes Rumi chuckle, and makes tall and glamorous Mira roll her eyes and poorly pretend she isn’t just as amused.

And suddenly, Zoey knows.

Zoey looks at Rumi’s sparkling eyes, beams at her even, and she knows;

This, the three of them, was going to be yet another of those things that made sense to her. It was all going to make sense in the sort of beautiful way that completes a jigsaw puzzle.

The Honmoon sang beneath them as if in agreement to Zoey’s hunch, and Rumi’s smile softened at how Zoey didn’t even flinch at the mystical blanket’s appearance, even though Mira still stiffened when it caught her by surprise.

Zoey smiled right back, a giggle on her tongue.

Because boy, managing to get Rumi to smile at her like that?

Yeah. That was another natural talent worth mastering.

It’s been seven years since then. Seven years of training, fighting, and working together. Of the good fight, a noble war, of having each other’s backs. Seven years of laughter, of arguments that were forgotten in a day, of learning how to make each other’s coffee and curating a list of favorite movies. Of travelling, rehearsing, performing, and basking in the glow as the whole world looked at them and saw them as they were;

A trio. A sisterhood. The Warriors Three.

And just as she’d expected ever since that first day; Zoey understands, she knows. So she moves with a rare, precious certainty as she gently guides Rumi out of the kitchen and back into the living room with slow, steady steps. Rumi hasn’t broken eye contact with her, eyes wide and her lips slightly parted as her breaths came shallow, and Zoey smiled softly as she hooked her fingers into the waistband of Rumi’s shorts to pull her.

It had Rumi bite her lip for a moment when Zoey’s nail scratched across the sensitive skin just below the waistline, a shimmer of light blue rippling out underneath the graze, but there was none of the earlier violence in the light. Instead her patterns were dancing gently, the surface of a pond disturbed by rain and the breeze, not tossed stones, and Zoey smiled at the difference.

Once they were back in the soothing shadows of the living room, halfway to the massive windows looking out over the city, Zoey finally came to a stop and put her hands on Rumi’s waist properly. Over her clothing, for the moment, but firm and slightly indulgent as she anchored onto the breathtaking mix of softness and muscle.

Rumi’s breath faltered at the touch, and her hands clenched by her sides, unsure where to go and what she was allowed to do. Because Zoey’s eyes offered her a pure and unconditional ‘anything’, and infinity was far too much for now.

So instead she remained still as Zoey’s hands pressed against her, and she watched the relaxed, curious light in Zoey’s eyes as she was admired. Zoey’s breaths were slow and easy as she slowly ran the tips of her fingers across Rumi’s hips, tracing the dip and the transition from softness to the muscle of Rumi’s core and the tightness of her stomach.

Even through the fabric of Rumi’s shirt, Zoey could feel the heat of the patterns pulsing across her skin, and the glow of them escaped through the seams and kissed Zoey’s fingers with pale, pure blue. The heat from them was immense, sweat beading on Rumi’s skin as her body burned, but Zoey refused to stop as she followed the lines of Rumi’s abs and up to her ribcage.

The layer of fabric between Zoey’s reverent touch did little to numb the lightning it was leaving behind, and Rumi’s breaths came tight and shaky, skipping entirely when Zoey’s other hand joined her study by going to her other hip and, instead of going up, went down, over the way the loose cotton of her sleep shorts and to the bare skin of her thigh.

Rumi’s eyes closed as a shiver shot through her skin when Zoey’s hand finished the dance up her ribs and brushed the underside of her breast, before nimbly skirting around it to trace up to her collarbone, finally reaching bare skin not covered by her shirt. The tips of Zoey’s fingers were firm and certain, admiring instead of teasing, and Rumi melted when Zoey let out a quiet, awed sigh.

Under Zoey’s touch, Rumi’s patterns grew, dancing and curling up from her ribs to trace the sides of her neck. Bright blue and shimmering like topaz under sunlight, they were footprints left in sand as Zoey’s fingers reached Rumi’s jaw.

But then, she began to glide back down, following the winding trails of light she had left behind, and leaving Rumi whining at the loss and the dashed hopes. Instead Zoey’s touch grazed along her collarbone once more, and went to Rumi’s shoulder, fingertips tucking slightly beneath the loose collar of her shirt to pull it aside and bare as many inches of skin as she’d be able to.

Her other hand, which had been splayed firmly against Rumi’s outer thigh, twitched and trembled as it began to move, mapping the plane of powerful, dangerous muscle and profile.

“Oh my god, Rumi…” Zoey breathed at barely a whisper, more like a prayer, as her fingers dug into the muscle of Rumi’s thigh and dragged up and around to find her lower back. “You’re so strong.”

Words were a pipe dream as Rumi tensed at Zoey’s hand gliding from her shoulder to wrap around her bicep, Zoey’s fingers digging into the muscle and her nails lightly scratching the marked skin. All she managed was a whimper and a shiver.

It said enough, and Zoey smiled as she stepped closer, her hand running over Rumi’s lower back and the ridges of her spine, tracing the pulsing patterns through the heat of them. Zoey leant in, slowly and patiently, to brush her nose along Rumi’s neck, the scent of Rumi’s skin making her sigh happily.

Scratching her nails down Rumi’s arm as she released her bicep and traced down to her elbow, Zoey pressed her lips against Rumi’s neck, on top of a pulsing artery. Not a kiss, simply contact, feeling the heat and the throbbing skin as Rumi’s heart pounded.

The distinction mattered little to Rumi as she gasped, her head tilting to the side in a silent plea for more. Zoey’s hand on her back pulled, pressing the two of them closer, and Rumi’s heart raced under Zoey’s lips.

Rumi lifted her trembling, twitching hands to place them on Zoey’s waist, desperate not to be rejected, and she whimpered when Zoey hummed in approval and smiled against her neck. Her reward was, finally, a kiss, pressed against her pounding pulse and glowing pattern.

It was almost blinding as Rumi’s entire body flashed, a flare in the darkness, lost at sea and brought home by Zoey’s nails and lips and everything, god please don’t stop. Rumi had never been so aroused, so desperate, in her entire life. Every inch of her body was burning so hot she wanted to burst into flames just to get it out, her patterns agonizing and euphoric as they preened under Zoey’s attention and despaired at her neglect.

Without even a kiss - only admiration and worship, only the slow, patient act of learning her - Zoey had Rumi shivering and soaked to a point far past discomfort and into the territory of subjugation. A gaping, empty hole inside of Rumi’s chest and stomach pulled her insides tight with its vacuum, all-consuming and unfed, and her nails had extended to the claws of a predator what felt like hours, no, surely it was days, ago.

Zoey’s voice vibrated through Rumi’s neck from her lips pressed against it, as she murmured. “I’m going to say something twice. Once now, at the start, and I know you’re going to dismiss it. But the second time, you’re going to believe me even as you barely hear me.”

In a slow, torturous movement, Zoey dragged her lips along Rumi’s neck, slightly parted and the tip of her tongue a scalpel as she tasted the desperate sweat and left screaming streams of blue and silver light behind.

A cruel map around Rumi’s jaw but then away from her lips had her eyes tearing up. Cruel, please, fuck, no, come back, come back, come back. But Zoey’s hum into her ear washed it all away.

“You’re beautiful, Rumi. God, you are so, so beautiful.”

Rumi’s eyes flashed open, even as a low groan escaped from her throat as Zoey took her earlobe between her teeth for the slightest tug before Zoey began another cruel, delicious journey back down her jaw, finally and divinely tracing along in the direction of her lips.

Making eye contact, so close that her breath was washing over Rumi’s lips, Zoey’s eyes were bright and certain as she smiled. But she didn’t kiss, she was right there but she didn’t kiss god please just kiss me please please it hurts it’s so empty please, and Rumi wanted to burst into tears. Yet no matter how badly she wanted it, she couldn’t make herself be the one to lurch forward and take it. The way Zoey’s hands were on her had her muscles locked and her nerves as marionettes, and Zoey knew it.

Zoey’s movements were deceptively gentle, her touch light and certain, as she reached down and pulled the hem of Rumi’s shirt away and up so her hands could touch bare skin and explore, remapping the territory they had just spent an agonizing eternity exploring.

The feel of her callused fingers along Rumi’s spine had Rumi gasping and twitching. The nails dragging along the ridges of her tensed, flexing abs made her clench her jaw tight just to stop herself collapsing. Every inch took multiple moments for Zoey to be satisfied before moving on, her admiration and worship a slow, confident sculpting.

Zoey had always been so fast, always rushing, always the hummingbird jittering from one impulse or idea to the next, but now…she took her time.

Because there was no more need to scramble and race. No cause to rush from rooftop to rooftop in leaps. She’d won.

She had caught up to what she wanted, she had it under her fingers, so she slowed and settled, knowing and confident; knowing Rumi wouldn't slip away, her touch lightened instead of grabbed. Knowing Rumi would stay and let her touch, she didn't hurry through or skip a step.

Instead her face was soft, her eyes wondrous, as everything she had chased for her entire life was under her fingertips.

Rumi was at the mercy of something unprecedented; a Zoey who knew she had all the time in the world.

“Baby…” The pet name carried on Zoey's breath as if it was a prayer. It lodged in Rumi's ribs like coming home. “You're trembling. All because of me?”

Eyes wide and her breaths in a panting so fast it had her lips dry, Rumi cried out quietly as Zoey’s fingers reached the top of her ribs and brushed along the soft, bare skin of one of her breasts. But instead of the torture of avoidance or a cruelly promised delay, Zoey’s hand molded to the soft, supple flesh perfectly as she cupped it, and swooned at the feel and how it had Rumi squirm.

“That’s it…” Zoey smiled, brushing Rumi’s nose with her own in approval and encouragement, bright and knowing eyes piercing straight into Rumi’s wide and speechless ones. “There we go. It’s okay.”

Rumi croaked, her dry throat robbing her ability to whine, as Zoey playfully and patiently massaged and teased, indulging herself just as much as she was indulging Rumi. But her other hand wasn’t neglectful, as she dragged the tips of her nails down Rumi’s spine and to the waistband of her sleep shorts, and slid straight under, ghosting her thumb across Rumi’s tailbone as she went.

Rumi’s back snapped straight in surprise and sensory overload as Zoey’s hand scratched and mapped, and her head fell back with a cry and a dry sob when Zoey lightly toyed with the sensitive bud of her breast and dragged her nails down the bare skin of her ass at the same time.

“Oh? Sensitive, huh?” Zoey cooed quietly, and giggled when Rumi’s gasps and squirms were her answer.

To Rumi’s dismay, Zoey released her breast, but then made short work of pulling Rumi’s shirt up and over her head and dropping it to the rug, then returned her hand to its indulgent exploration and touch.

Tension wrapped around Rumi’s bones like a noose, an execution planned by a threat instead of guaranteed by a promise, and the fistfuls she had grabbed of Zoey’s shirt almost threatened to tear straight through as she tried in vain to twist her hips and pull Zoey’s hand to where her body needed it to touch.

But while Zoey was a lot of things, she was never cruel, so she rested her forehead against Rumi’s sweating one and slowly, painfully slowly, trailed her fingers around Rumi’s hip and towards the heat that had Rumi close to crying in her embrace.

The growing, desperate violence of Rumi’s trembling had Zoey’s smile shift wicked when her fingers found heat and chased it, only for her to raise her eyebrows and her own cheeks to warm and redden.

“Holy shit, Rumi…” breathing out in awe, Zoey bit her lip as her own arousal pulsed hot. “You’re dripping for me.”

Rumi sobbed dryly, her eyes tightly shut, as Zoey’s fingers finally ghosted along her slit, and the sound of her own slick arousal would have been humiliating if she’d been aware enough to even spell the word. Because she was well, well fucking aware of the desperation coating her thighs.

It was enough to make Zoey feel high as she slid the tips of her fingers up and down with just enough pressure to make Rumi whine and tremble, but without any true satisfaction to be found.

Every sound from Rumi’s lips was musical and gorgeous, something to be cherished and learned. As all things from Rumi were, she was orchestral, the type of music that could change the world.

Yet despite the song, for the first time in two days the Honmoon left them alone entirely. It faded back underneath the blanket of reality, shifted back out of phase to sleep.

Zoey didn’t need its reassurance or validation; she knew what she was doing. She knew what Rumi needed.

So, forever the people pleaser, but right now one with patience, once her fingers were slick and coated enough Zoey slowly and carefully slid one into Rumi’s scorching, desperate cunt, and grinned as Rumi cried out and the entirety of Rumi’s body erupted in cerulean light.

It was one of the most beautiful things Zoey had ever seen as Rumi’s eyes shot open as the winding patterns slid up her face to wrap around her eyes, one turning a vibrant gold as she moaned with bared fangs.

Zoey’s pace was smooth and steady as she fucked her, palming Rumi’s breast and lightly tweaking her nipple in rhythm with every roll of her wrist and curl of her finger up into Rumi’s cunt and the perfect press against a spot that had Rumi quickly weeping. Sparkling tears escaped the corners of Rumi’s eyes and traced down her cheeks, hissing as they ran over the scorching patterns.

Teased and built up, and her insides twisted and tied so tightly that she felt her bone marrow crumbling from the pressure, Rumi didn’t need much to get there, and Zoey could tell from the way she was spasming around even just one finger.

But while she wasn’t cruel, that didn’t mean she felt like being kind. So Zoey slowed, and giggling evilly at the way Rumi shook her head in horror and tried to grind her hips and chase what was now being denied her.

“Zoey, please!” Rumi’s cry rippled across the room, wrapping around the chords of the universe and making her plea. “Please. I…I need…”

“What do you need, baby?” Zoey whispered, smiling far too innocently when Rumi stared into her eyes with tears trickling down her cheeks.

Rumi whined as her hands scrambled underneath Zoey’s shirt to dig into her back and pull her close, bumping their noses together, and she shivered and whined when Zoey cooed and smiled encouragingly.

Embarrassment and neediness warred and burned hot beneath Rumi’s skin, but it wasn’t much of a battle, and she crumbled under Zoey’s gaze with a pitiful whisper. “Please make me cum. Please.”

“Anything for you, baby. Always.” Zoey beamed, pleased and burning hot, and without any warning added a second finger and slid them both into Rumi’s cunt up until her palm was grinding perfectly to add pressure to Rumi’s clit.

With a few harsh thrusts and twists of Zoey’s knuckles, Rumi’s eyes rolled back and her claws broke the skin of Zoey’s back as she latched on and her hips pathetically chased for more, for the final crest, for anything Zoey gave her.

Zoey grunted at the pain on her back, but it was not in displeasure, instead she felt as the sting shot straight to her core and burned. Every signal from Rumi was screaming the growing wave, her patterns scorching bright and sweat pouring down her skin, and Zoey stared and watched.

“God, Rumi. You really, really are just…so beautiful.” Zoey breathed in awe, fulfilling her prophecy when Rumi only faintly heard the words through the howling in her blood, and Zoey smiled victoriously and finally captured Rumi’s lips in a searing kiss.

Both because she needed it just as badly as Rumi did, but also to catch the noise as she shoved her fingers into Rumi’s cunt with a violent curl, and pressed.

Rumi’s body snapped rigid, still and frozen as the glass inside her cracked and shattered, and then she howled into Zoey’s mouth as her climax crashed into her and roared up through her body in a torrent that scorched every muscle and nerve.

It curled underneath her skin with fire and lightning, her patterns marking the way with napalm and gasoline that burned an unnatural blue and white as her cry gave Zoey’s tongue access to her mouth, and the slick sounds of her own wetness as Zoey continued to fuck her was second only to her sobbing as her muscles fired and her mind lost the fight to stay.

When her knees gave way and her body dropped, she was easily caught when Zoey’s free arm wrapped around her in a fast, predicted whip and held her up, her fingers slowing as she teased out the aftershocks. The shadow waves and ripples after a tsunami that had Rumi’s body a sun and her mind a serene, trembling landscape of white sands and ocean tides.

Zoey gently and carefully pulled her hand out of Rumi’s shorts as she held her up, easily supporting Rumi’s weight, and she broke off the kiss with a slow, loving peck to each corner of Rumi’s lips as she guided Rumi a step over and lowered her onto the edge of the couch and sat down next to her, wrapping both arms around her to hold her tight while Rumi recovered and slowly came down.

Running her fingers gently through Rumi’s sweat soaked hair, Zoey hummed a mindless tune as she pressed soft kisses to Rumi’s temple and cheek, and she smiled when Rumi eventually blinked her red-rimmed eyes open and stirred.

“Hey there. You okay?” Zoey smiled and pressed a final kiss to Rumi’s hair, readjusting when Rumi sat up.

Rumi needed a moment to think straight again, groaning as she ran her hands through her hair to brush it all back to fall down her back, only to lose her balance due to her gooey muscles and fall back.

She landed squarely with her head on Mira’s thigh, and Mira snorted at the limp thump, before immediately starting to run her fingers through Rumi’s hair.

At the revelation that Mira had been awake the entire time, Rumi’s eyes shot open at the crash was enough to get her mind back in order, and she sat up with a shock and twisted around to stare at Mira with wide, horrified eyes.

But Mira simply raised an eyebrow and smirked, one arm tucked back underneath her head casually, and waved her hand dismissively at the rush of pink across Rumi’s face, speaking with a voice that was as husky and aroused as it was teasing and snarky. “Oh don’t mind me. Please, continue.”

Rumi squeaked, turning away and putting her hands over her face, only for her blush to worsen when Mira chuckled. But when Zoey dropped to her knees in front of her and reached up to take her wrists and pull them away from her face, Rumi let her, and she blinked at the sincere, loving smile that Zoey was giving her.

Cradling Rumi’s hands in her own, Zoey lifted one up to her lips and pressed a soft kiss to her knuckles. “Thank you, for letting me do that. That was…really special, Rumi.”

“You’re thanking me?!” Rumi blanched with a face still burning, and her thighs still twitching and trembling in the aftershocks. “I…holy shit, Zoey. That was…a lot. Sorry about that. I’m not normally so…reactive, when I…”

Zoey shushed her with a firm, loving hum, and pressed a kiss to each of Rumi’s knuckles as she held eye contact. Sincere and pure down to her core, Zoey’s eyes were warm as her lips rested on the back of Rumi’s palm.

“That was not too much. Never would be. That was, frankly, absolutely hot as hell.” Zoey grinned when Rumi looked down shyly, but then sobered with a sigh, her lips lingering on Rumi’s skin. “You’re never going to be too much. No matter how bad what you’re going through might ever get. You’ll never be too much.”

The way Zoey’s voice changed, something in it tightening and drifting away as if on a sudden breeze, had Rumi frown in concern and give Zoey’s hands a tug to coax her to shuffle closer in between Rumi’s thighs.

Once Zoey was close enough, Rumi reached up and ran the fingers of her free hand through Zoey’s hair, brushing the gorgeous, black strands off her face and back over her ear. And when Zoey leant into the touch to chase it, Rumi happily let her, softly cupping Zoey’s cheek and stroking her fingers across the soft skin of her face.

Sighing into the affection, grounding and loving, Zoey chuckled low and shrugged. “I know what it means to be too much, Rumi. I know how it sits in your skin and burns. How lonely it can be. You’re not alone.”

Rumi’s eyes softened and saddened at the way Zoey’s face lost its light, and she leant forward to press a soft kiss to Zoey’s forehead, keeping her lips against the skin when Zoey sighed and settled under the touch. “You’ve never been too much, Zoey. You’re perfect, and you fit perfectly with us. Home and snug.”

It was a sentiment and reassurance that Rumi and Mira had expressed a thousand times over the years, ever since the night in their first year of training that Zoey had first confessed to it, sitting in the garden of the hunter’s compound with the moon above and the lanterns burning low.

Every time it reared its head, the ghosts of the places she used to be, the other two always banished it and held her until the chill passed. It was a comfort Zoey never thought she’d have.

But it felt different, here and now. Something kind, but also raw. Because Rumi had always been supportive and kind, she had always been a bedrock of reassurance and encouragement, but she’d never been vulnerable with it. Rumi was supportive from a position of stability and strength.

Not tonight. Not when she was the most cracked open and vulnerable of all three of them for the moment. So for the first time, the exposed cracks of Rumi’s chest met Zoey’s own, and instead of running or flinching…Rumi pressed a soft kiss to them.

Zoey bit her lip and looked into her friend’s eyes. “Rumi…?”

“Yes?”

“Lay down for me. Please.” Zoey whispered softly, without blinking or any hesitation, and she was unsurprised when Rumi froze.

The silence and stillness stretched out for a long moment as Rumi stared at her, eyes wide and knowing. But still she hesitated, swallowing. “Why…?”

Zoey slowly straightened up from her slouch, resting her hands on Rumi’s thighs and holding eye contact as she answered. Her voice was low, but not out of arousal, instead in a plea. “Because I want to find out what you taste like. Please, Nightlight?”

Light pierced across Rumi’s skin from her toes to her forehead, her patterns rippling silver as she blinked rapidly in shock, her mouth dropping open uselessly at Zoey’s earnest want.

When Zoey’s grip on her thighs tightened, a prompting squeeze in request for permission but Zoey’s eyes soft in acceptance of either answer, Rumi felt her ears burn and her fingers tingle.

Because in her core, on her bones, in her song, she had known the truth for the past five minutes; one hadn’t been enough. It had been the largest, most potent orgasm of her entire life, the kind of climax that changes what sex and lust means to a person, a re-definition of the terms.

But…the hunger of a demon was not an easily sated thing. She had poured the universe out of her chest and into Mira. Something needed to fill the hole it had left behind.

More.

It took an embarrassingly long time for her mouth to remember how words worked, and Rumi wet her lips with the tip of her tongue, shivering when she saw Zoey’s eyes flick down to the movement. “...Nightlight??”

“Mhm. Our beacon in the darkness. Our safety and our comfort.” Zoey punctuated each sentence, each reason, with a soft kiss to Rumi’s cheeks, running her hands up and down Rumi’s thighs and delighting in the twitching. “The glow that keeps the shadows at bay. Our gentle, beautiful nightlight.”

Each kiss banished the pulsing shyness like raindrops in a pond washing the surface clean and dyeing curves and lines light blue, and Zoey smiled with a happy giggle when Rumi’s skin grew warm.

“Aww, I’m glad you like it. Lay down for me, Nightlight. Please?” Zoey took a hand from Rumi’s thigh and placed it on her collarbone, and added the slightest bit of pressure as a test and encouragement. After another moment of shy hesitation, Rumi obeyed the touch, and Zoey coaxed her back so she was laying down, her head once again on Mira’s thigh. “Good girl. Now I’m going to take my time, okay?”

Rumi gasped as Mira’s fingers went to her hair, dragging her nails across her scalp in slow, perfect movements, and her hips twitched and shifted when Zoey shuffled back so Rumi’s legs weren’t spread and her hands slid up and fingers then hooked under the waistband of her shorts.

Nervousness had Rumi’s chest twisting as she tried to keep her breathing steady and confident, basking in the grounding pressure of Mira’s sharp nails on her scalp and the dance of her fingers along her neck. But Zoey slowed all the same, her fingers lingering on the waistband and her lips pausing on Rumi’s hip.

It took a moment for Rumi to realize that Zoey was waiting to see if she changed her mind, giving her the opening and invitation to shake her head, the kiss lingering and reassuring. Zoey’s fingers were twitching, her hot breath on Rumi’s skin eager and wanting, but she stopped and waited all the same.

Rumi bit her lip, scratching her fingers along the blanket and managing a deep breath, before nodding again in consent and permission, shivering and smiling at the encouraging, proud hum from Mira and a pleasing scratch along her scalp.

The line of soft, loving kisses continued along her waist, tickling and teasing in equal measure, and had Rumi’s eyes fluttering closed as Zoey resumed the careful moments to tug her shorts down. Rumi shakily lifted her hips to make it easier, and shivered when she was rewarded by Mira twisting some of her long hair through her fingers and giving a tug as her other hand slid down her cheek to drag along her neck.

Inch by inch, Zoey pulled Rumi’s shorts down her thighs, exposing the thick and curving patterns that wrapped around her pelvis and hips, and the fabric sticking to the damp heat that had built and lingered between her thighs for what felt like an eternity but had in reality been less than an hour.

Zoey growled in her throat, running her tongue along her lips as Rumi’s shorts finally came free and dropped down to the floor. When Rumi kicked them off the rest of the way, Zoey tossed them to the side, and placed her fingers on the taut, powerful muscles of Rumi’s calves to slowly coax her to spread her legs again.

A lifetime of dancing and fighting had left Rumi with legs that could leave most gymnasts jealous, and Zoey traced the muscles in awe as she bent down to press a kiss to Rumi’s outer thigh, whispering against the skin. “You deserve this. There’s so much that you deserve that we need to give you.”

Rumi shivered and shifted, eyes tightly shut and her body twitching, as Zoey used her grip on both of her legs to guide them apart. Every time Rumi’s shyness almost overpowered her, a distracting, pleasurable tug of her hair by Mira washed it away, and she whimpered. “You don’t…owe me…oh god, anything.”

Shaking her head in disagreement, Zoey’s warm breath washed over Rumi’s inner thigh as she began to kiss her way around, shuffling between Rumi’s legs and her nails dragging up and leaving white lines on her skin and blue neon on her patterns. “You built a home together with us.”

Fire and lightning traced through Rumi’s markings, pulsing with their own heartbeat and converging on her ribs, rocks tossed into the surface by Mira’s nails on her neck and Zoey’s lips on her thighs. Two sources of light and life, dancing together and stretching her from both ends. Two fuses sparked and lit, and the smoke tickling her mind like incense.

Rumi’s nails dug into the blanket she was pushed down on, ripping the fabric, before she gasped when Zoey grabbed her wrists and moved her hands to her hair instead, moaning encouragingly when Rumi immediately ran her fingers through the black strands and gripped.

“You fought alongside us. Accepted us. ” Zoey’s kisses were open-mouthed and hungry as she dragged her lips up Rumi’s inner thigh, closer and closer to where her own impatience was starting to beg for her to reach. But true to her word, she lingered on each spot that had Rumi squirm, her eyes closed as she bit down for a flash then instantly ran her hot tongue over the spot, making Rumi keen and arch up. “You gave us our elysium.”

They love her so much. Rumi knows that. She’s always known it. They loved her before they knew her shame and curse, and they love her now. Every press of Zoey’s lips, every touch of Mira’s nails. Their voices, their warmth, the fact they were here at all. The fact that they wanted to help her, that they wanted to be there for her. The way they had chased her out into the night, and instead of condemning her had instead tried to understand.

Ever since the day they’d all stood together for the first time, Rumi had desperately hoped that one day they’d love her in any way they were willing to do so.

Ever since the day they’d all stood together for the first time, Zoey had known that they would.

So as Rumi trembled and twitched under her touch, overwhelmed and trusting, Zoey finished shuffling her way between Rumi’s parted legs, and ran her hands down and under Rumi’s thighs to lift them onto her shoulders. Rumi’s surprised squeak was the sweetest sound Zoey had ever heard, the rush of blue and white across her patterns prettier than any rainbow.

Zoey smiled against the large, winding curve wrapping around Rumi’s thigh in vines, and sighed. “Oh Rumi, we owe you everything.”

Without another word, almost too fast for Rumi to suck in a breath, Zoey bent down and ran her tongue along Rumi’s slit lightly, and moaned at the taste just as loud as Rumi moaned at the touch. Rumi’s hands tightened in her hair with a tremble and a gasp, tugging in stasis, unsure whether to pull Zoey’s face closer to her core for more or hold her still to take a moment.

But Zoey made the decision herself as she closed her eyes and pressed closer, sighing serenely and dragging the flat of her tongue back up, shivering at the sound of Rumi’s cry and gasp. She was so sensitive. So utterly neglected, for far too long. Every inch of Rumi deserved to be accustomed to being worshipped and wanted, and the fact every cell seemed surprised to be thought of as beautiful was sacrilege.

Slow and certain, with the patience of an artist and the confidence of a soulmate, Zoey lost herself in the taste of Rumi’s want and need, learning and leaning into everything that had Rumi gasping and twitching the most.

It was like nothing Rumi had ever felt before. Zoey had been right; there had certainly been many nights Rumi’s hand had found its way between her legs, an instinctual hunger chewing and burning in her skin. Endorphins pulsing from shows, or the adrenaline after a fight, or sometimes waking from a dream she could never remember.

Not very often, and certainly not with the confidence that Zoey and Mira clearly had in their own needs and pleasures. Rumi’s relationship to her body, to the truth of it, had always been a shy, tidal thing. But there had been nights where she’d looked up at her roof as her fingers circled her own clit, faceless figures and thoughts flicking through her mind. Venting it was a practiced, almost clinical act.

But this…nothing was like this. This was a drug and a dance, spinning and twirling with heavy pants and fingers on skin, filling her veins and turning rivers into oceans, crimson and white.

Zoey and Mira loved her. They loved her. Zoey’s tongue circled her clit and made her moan, Mira’s fingers wound through her hair to tug it and make her gasp and twitch. The light grew, the heat stoked, sapphire and quartz magma streaking out of her bones and wrapping around her throat and limbs to hold her steady, to bind her here.

It built the way that a tide came in; unstoppable and easy, rising around the banks of a river and kissing the forest, branches rustling in the wind and petals carried across the surface as something wild, alive, and free swam the shifting current.

Zoey’s eyes were closed and her body hot as she slid her tongue deep into Rumi’s cunt and dragged it up, with arousal and drool making her chin and face slick. Rumi’s hands in her hair were painful and perfect, the want in Rumi’s harsh grab enough to make Zoey’s heart race. She could feel it building inside Rumi, she could taste it, and she smiled softly and pulled back for a brief moment to speak.

 “Mira, baby? I know you’re tired, but kiss her. Please kiss her. She deserves it, but I’m a little busy.” Without waiting to see if Mira would listen, simply hoping that she would, Zoey sighed happily and refused to make Rumi wait and suffer much longer.

It was awkward for Mira to shuffle, having to lift Rumi’s head off her thigh and then twist around, fully turning around, but she did it hurriedly so she could claim Rumi’s lips in a kiss too messy and rough to be coordinated. Mira normally prided herself on being a teasing, restrained kisser, but when Rumi grabbed for her in abandon she hungrily returned it.

Moaning into Mira’s mouth, Rumi began to shiver, her nerves twisting and sparking as it grew inside of her body. It was different than before. Far steadier, not as violent. Certain. But her grip tightened in Zoey’s hair without her meaning to, simply on instinct, and when Zoey groaned at the sting she pulled harder, her skin tingling and pulsing as it shifted and churned inside her bones.

Underneath Rumi’s body, the world rippled and hummed as the strings of it were plucked, Rumi’s song running along it and coaxing the universe into giving her this. Because she’d done so much for it. Done so much for the world. Lost so much, suffered so much, and spent far too many nights in cold, cruel silence because she didn’t believe herself worthy of anything better.

When it hit, rushing through her body like floodwaters, Rumi didn’t fight it or try and restrain herself, and let herself cry out and wrap a hand around Mira’s head to keep her mouth on hers, while grabbing Zoey’s hair and grinding and twitching in the desperate chase for more, more, please more, fuck.

Zoey smiled against Rumi’s core, dragging her tongue up a final time and giggling when Rumi yelped at the overstimulation, and quickly slithered up Rumi’s body, moving in perfect coordination with Mira, who immediately freed Rumi’s mouth for Zoey to claim.

The taste of herself on Zoey’s tongue and the feel of the slickness on her face had Rumi moan more viscerally than she might have expected herself to, and she shuddered and gasped at the sound and shift of Mira grabbing the bottom of Zoey’s shirt to pull it up and over her head.

Breaking the kiss off so that Mira was able to do so, Zoey raised her eyebrows at Mira in question, and blinked as Mira raised her own eyebrow in return.

“Your turn.” Mira growled, taking advantage of the opportunity to catch Zoey’s mouth before Zoey could turn back to Rumi, and kissed her.

Zoey gasped at the rough, needy treatment as Mira wrapped her arms around her and held her close, their torsos pressed together and Mira moaning at the taste of Rumi on Zoey’s tongue. And when Rumi’s hands went to the waistband of her own pants, Zoey shuddered and groaned into Mira’s mouth, the other girl not letting her pull away or escape.

Instead she plundered Zoey’s mouth, hungrily seeking out every drop of Rumi’s taste that she could find, and assisted Rumi in getting Zoey’s pants down her legs, leaving her just as naked as them.

With a squeak, Zoey fell gracelessly onto the couch when Mira pulled her, and she was immediately enveloped on both sides as Rumi attached her lips to her neck and bit down. Their hands were everywhere, roaming over her ribs, her arms, her thighs, and when Rumi’s hand bravely cupped one of her breasts she whined into Mira’s mouth and arched her back up to press into it.

The reaction was all the encouragement Rumi needed in order for her composure to begin to slip, and she growled against Zoey’s neck and tightened the bite, sucking a black mark, as she squeezed Zoey’s breast. Inexperienced and clumsy, Rumi was always far too fast a learner, and as her touch had Zoey’s nipple pucker and harden she teased it with her fingertips and had Zoey whimper.

Mira broke off the kiss with a pop, leaving Zoey glassy eyed and slack-jawed, and she grabbed Zoey by the chin to turn her head to Rumi, who eagerly released Zoey’s neck from her teeth so she could kiss her again.

Hands scrambling, toes curling, hips twitching, Zoey was drowning, and Mira always knew exactly how to catch her, with lines of soft kisses down her neck and firm pressure in her touches as her hand traced across her back and along the dip of her waist and hip.

Rumi’s kiss was a deceptively animal thing; grabbing hands and desperate teeth, but the way she pressed against Zoey, the way she peppered her face with smaller kisses in between tasting her tongue, was filled with something so utterly pure that Zoey’s heart twisted in her chest in the want to give itself away.

Slowly and indulgently, Rumi wrapped her arms around Zoey’s shoulders and pulled her close, rolling them both so that Zoey was on top of her entirely and able to completely mold her body to hers if she wished. And fuck, Zoey wished, she needed, so she cupped Rumi’s face in both hands and settled, every inch of skin contact close and perfect.

It was a closeness that couldn’t be turned into a lie by any internal demon, as Rumi held Zoey close and Mira sat up so she could press a kiss directly between Zoey’s shoulder blades, one hand sliding across Zoey’s back and down her spine, while her other took hold of her thigh to nudge her.

Shuddering with a whimper, Zoey went with the guide and spread her legs, able to put her weight on a knee to lift herself up slightly so that Mira could slide her hand around her front and then down.

With Zoey flat against Rumi entirely and held close, twitching and loved, Mira pressed another kiss to her shoulder, and smiled when her fingers found Zoey’s own heat and wetness.

Scorching and desperate, Zoey’s want was always a vibrant thing. But she too willingly shoved it down and kept it away. Always afraid it was too much, always convinced it was something fine to ignore.

But that wasn’t allowed tonight, from any of them. Tonight was them, bared and raw in all the ways that mattered and every appetite that hungered and starved. Exposed nerves and unstitched wounds, old and new.

Mira wouldn’t let Zoey hide tonight. And Rumi would hate that she’d even want to.

So, with a quick bite to Zoey’s shoulder, Mira began to tease steady, confident circles around Zoey’s clit. Zoey moaned into Rumi’s mouth, breaking off the kiss so she could gasp and shiver, and she buried her face into Rumi’s neck with a moan as Mira scratched five vicious lines down her back, signing her own signature in between the marks from Rumi’s claws.

As Zoey lay twitching and panting, shifting on her lap and whimpering against her neck, Rumi ran her fingers through Zoey’s hair, wrapping the strands around her fingers so there was the slightest tug with every pass, and she whispered a stream of sweet nothings into Zoey’s ear from so close her lips brushed it.

About how beautiful she was, how kind and generous. How she belonged with them, and how she fit. God, how she fit so perfectly. Rumi loved her, Mira loved her, and they knew she loved them, and it fit.

Zoey knew she was telling the truth.

Hell, she’d known they would fit before either of them had even learned her last name.

So when she came around Mira’s fingers with Mira kissing down her spine, Zoey moaning into Rumi’s neck with Rumi’s hands in her hair and lips on her temple, Zoey smiled. A tear dropped down onto the blanket, invisible and unnoticed.

The room was close to silent as the three of them caught their breaths, with Zoey sprawled out on top of Rumi entirely and Rumi’s arms wrapped around Mira. A perfect pretzel of sweat, heat, and heaving breaths that came out as quiet chuckles and bewildered huffs that gradually faded.

It left the room peaceful and dark, the soft white light from Rumi’s patterns mercurial as they pulsed in time with her breathing, barely bright enough to cast shadows. With every passing exhale, the lines were fading and shrinking, the spiderweb mosaic of her heart and soul soothed and sated.

For the first time in days, maybe even weeks, each deep breath satisfied Rumi to take. But the light scratch of Zoey’s nails as the shorter girl traced mindless runes onto her bare skin had her shiver every time Zoey traced one of the lingering markings and painted it cerulean.

The quiet air between them was a pleasant, comfortable balm. A rare, sacred treat, for when the noise of the world was locked outside and their inner songs hummed together, cancelling out each other’s discordance.

Rumi soaked in it with her eyes closed, her fingers stroking through Zoey’s still sweaty hair. Half of her wanted to sleep, to just drift away in the safety of Zoey’s soft touches and the warmth of Mira shuffling and dozing right next to her. But the rest of her knew that sleeping would mean skipping every moment of this that she had, and that very idea caused her chest to twist.

But the serenity was not to last forever, and Mira was the one to break it, her voice slow and measured as she decided to just push straight into the uncharted waters they had fallen into the current of.

“So…we should probably talk, huh?”

The serenity didn’t shatter so much as it crumbled and blew away like sand, without violence or fanfare. It made it easier for Rumi to swallow as she squeezed her eyes shut and nodded a single time, before pressing a kiss to the top of a dozing Zoey’s head to rouse her.

Zoey, barely conscious, simply grunted in agreement and permission, then shuffled to get more comfortable as she pulled one of the blankets up and onto herself and Rumi properly. But even though her eyes were closed and she seemed limp, her lips were tight as she listened and waited.

She had made her opinion known to Mira years ago. So the ball was in the other girl’s court.

And Mira, in glorious fashion, went right for the fucking throat.

“It was five years ago the first time Zoey and I hooked up, I think? It was during our first tour over in the states, after the final show in Chicago.”

Rumi’s eyes shot open, and she awkwardly twisted around as much as she could without dislodging Zoey so she could give Mira a surprised stare. Mira shrugged, her posture set and bold, but her eyes were anything but confident. Instead her eyes were far away, leaving her looking almost helpless, lost at sea, and that was enough for Rumi to tap Zoey’s hip to coax her to move.

Grumbling in displeasure at having to get off her warm, Rumi-scented mattress, Zoey sighed and nodded as the inevitable conversation was broached without any buildup. Typical Mira style, and Zoey hadn’t really expected anything else.

So, each muscle protesting deliciously, Zoey rolled off Rumi and sat up, turning and crossing a leg under herself so she was facing the other two. Rumi had done the same as soon as she’d been free from pillow duties, and had both her legs crossed, with a blanket around herself to keep warm and also to cover herself up.

Thankfully she stopped needing to rely on the blanket for modesty once Zoey passed her shirt to her so she could swiftly pull it back on, and Rumi hummed in thanks while she frowned as she thought back over the dates, and then blinked when it clicked. “Wait, so after I went back to the stadium to help Bobby out…?”

Mira nodded, and gave another simple shrug when Rumi raised her eyebrows. “Yeah. Call it endorphins, or tension, or whatever you want. We didn’t talk about it for weeks. Neither of us really knew why we did it.”

“We certainly never regretted it, though!” giggling shyly, Zoey pulled her own shirt over her head once more, and settled back comfortably. However, despite the ease in her smile, she immediately began drumming her fingers on the couch next to her. But after a pause, she cringed and shrank in on herself. “And, well, after that first time…it sorta kept happening? Not very often. Every few months maybe. Sometimes after shows, sometimes after hunts, sometimes just because.”

Even as the entirety of it soaked into her head and she began to pick through it, something pointless and unimportant stuck out, and Rumi blinked and frowned in confusion. “Wait, after hunts? We always come back here after hunts. How did I never…”

To her amazement, both Mira and Zoey blushed, shrinking in on themselves with a mixture of embarrassment, and a shame that carried no poison, only an aftertaste. Zoey had to look away, hiding her face with an anxious laugh, while Mira ran her hand over her face and pinched her brow as she answered.

“We…would sneak down to the studio after you went to bed. For the soundproofing.”

“You had sex in our home studio?!” Rumi shouted in a shrill, high pitch, looking between the two of them as heat crawled up her neck and over her own cheeks.

The silence was admission and confirmation, and as her face burned hot Rumi hid it in the palm of her free hand, the other still stroking Zoey’s hair.

Silent for a few moments as she calmed down and her mortification faded, Rumi’s mind returned to the more important matters, mostly so she didn’t either laugh herself to death or throttle her best friends and then insist on buying new chairs in their recording space and setting the old ones on fire.

Then her patterns pulsed a dark gold that was almost bronze, from her collarbone to her stomach, and she folded her hands together on her lap before looking between them both. “So you just, what, hooked up? You never dated?”

Zoey and Mira looked at each other, their eyes locking with a familiar telepathy that Rumi also knew how to listen in on, and she watched as her friends reaffirmed an agreement to be honest about whatever questions might come up.

Seeing it had something in Rumi relax, but only slightly. Because the fact that it was a predetermined agreement meant…that this was a conversation that they’d been anticipating in some capacity, for some distant, impossible horizon.

Before Rumi could get too lost on the winding roads of whatever that might mean, Zoey brought her back when she huffed and shook her head.

“No, we did properly try and be together a few times. Kept falling back into it, in-between all the other dating we each tried that never worked.” Zoey smiled at Mira softly, somewhat sadly, and it was a smile that was sincerely returned in both softness and the same melancholy. “We kept trying again because what we felt for each other was real. But, well, it never stuck.”

The simplicity in Zoey’s resignation, as if the idea of her and Mira not working was as irrefutable and inevitable as bad weather, had Rumi tilt her head in concern. “Never stuck? What do you mean?”

Zoey hesitated, falling quiet for a moment and looking down at her own lap. The Honmoon rippled underneath her tapping fingers, a comfort and a companion, and Zoey sighed with a worn, weathered acceptance. “It’s…possible for people to love each other but not fit, Rumi. And we didn’t, properly. It always felt wrong. Uncomfortable.”

Nodding in slow, sympathetic agreement, Mira shuffled over slightly so she could reach out and place her hand on Zoey’s knee to squeeze, and Zoey placed her own hand on top with a grateful sigh. Mira twisted so she was facing them both evenly, leaving the three of them in a perfect triangle, close enough their legs were touching and they could see the specks of light in each other’s eyes even in the darkness of the room.

Mira gave Rumi a heavy look, a sigh locked safe in the tight corners of her lips as she shook her head at the memory, and the truth of it.  “So we’d stop, every time. Usually before you might have the chance to find out.”

There was something in that which stung when it struck Rumi’s chest and sent out another ripple of dark, unpolished gold across her body, and she held her breath for a moment until the ache and light faded. Some secrets were small, and pointless. Utterly harmless to keep and forgivable to forget. That…didn’t feel like one of them.

God, she knew she didn’t have a leg to stand on when it came to keeping secrets, she knew that. But the way Mira and Zoey had always been with each other, was something that Rumi had watched grow. Always on the periphery, able to observe its growth because of her own distance from it.

All she had wanted, for years, was the day she’d be able to begin to close that distance. To ask them through love, friendship, and companionship to let her step closer once she was allowed to be an actual person and not…what she’d thought her patterns made her.

It had been an inevitability that the two of them would end up closer to each other than she was to either of them, she’d known that from the start, and she’d watched it grow and been fine with it.

But she’d still missed…that. And from Mira’s words, clearly they’d been trying to keep it from her.

Rumi frowned, slightly hurt but mostly just confused, and shook her head.

“Why without me finding out? I wouldn’t have minded. I always knew you two were close.” Rumi shrank back when they both shot her the same alarmed, confused look, and she shrugged inwards with an awkward chuckle. “The way you are with each other...I think part of me always expected it might happen at some point. The possibility, at least. I would have been okay with it.”

Mira’s response was instantaneous, as sharp and certain as the crack of a whip, and her scowl equally as fierce. “We wouldn’t have been okay. Because there is no us, without you.”

‘There is no us without you.’

The silver light across Rumi’s skin flickered like weathered neon as her eyes widened and her breath caught in her throat, and she shuddered at the warm light tracing through the channels lingering in her skin.

While most of her patterns had faded away, satisfied and soothed, the permanent marks across her collarbone and ribs pulsed a bright enough white it broke through the cotton of her shirt with the barest glow.

Mira’s scowl faded at the proof that her words, as sharp as they were, had clearly crawled into Rumi’s chest, and she instead chuckled quietly in old amusement at the sheer bewilderment Rumi was staring at her with.

“At the time, not even we were sure why we tried to keep it secret, or the honest reality of why it always ended up feeling weird. But then last night happened, and…well, like I said; revelations were had.” Mira frowned as she thought back to the hours spent in the car, she and Zoey talking quietly and completely unable to look each other in the eye, Zoey pretending her phone required her constant attention while Mira had stared at the road.

A ghost seven years dead had come to life, warm and bright and just out of their grasp, and Mira had ended up resignedly laughing, while Zoey had found a degree of peace in knowing.

‘Just…Mira, putting you and I aside, we don’t know what she feels.’

‘Oh I’m pretty certain what she feels.’

‘No. You know what she wanted, there’s a difference. And we won’t know the why until we ask her. All we can do is hope she'll tell us. Or, even better, show us’

Mira blinked herself back to the present, and smirked at Rumi teasingly.

“Honestly I thought you would never give anyone a second glance, in that way. Ever since we first met. You just sort of gave off that vibe.” Mira snorted and adjusted so that the scratch marks on her back weren’t stinging so distractingly from rubbing against the backrest.

The reminder of what had just happened, how wrong she had been about Rumi and just what sort of desperate, lonely animal had been hiding and aching beneath her friend’s carefully controlled exterior for her entire life, had Mira sigh and thin her lips.

Once Rumi had warmed up to the two of them after the first couple of months, she had started to become affectionate. In small ways and gestures; grounding hands on shoulders, rubbing their backs when they were upset, hugging them in excitement and celebration.

It had never been to the same extent Mira and Zoey had become with each other, and Mira had caught Rumi looking at them with a sealed, quiet longing more than once. Mira had almost said something a thousand times, but…some people just didn’t like to be touched, even if they wanted it.

That was okay, that was normal and she could totally respect it, and Zoey had chilled out with Rumi as well.

…it was easy to keep yearning a secret, if you did it for long enough. And Rumi had mastered loneliness long before she’d even met them both. Little kids learn the lesson well that they’re not one of those children that will get held after nightmares or have their grazes kissed better.

Mira’s heart burned and the air tasted like ash and sulfur on her tongue, but she didn’t let the flame ignite, when she thought of the way Rumi still did everything on her own. Of the way Rumi still cried silently even at twenty-five, locked in her room, because she’d learned as a child that nobody would come to help even if she wept with noise.

But now wasn’t the time for fire and rage. Vengeance could come later, and Mira knew her wrath against Celine was not yet done, not even slightly. For now at least, she could keep her anger a quiet thing.

Instead she knew the flames under her skin and behind her eyes were from something very, very different. Something purer. A fireplace lovingly carved, each stone shaped with loving hands. Not a wildfire.

So, holding Rumi’s stare, she raised a teasing eyebrow and smirked. “God you were hot, I wanted you on sight. Even back then I was already pretty confident about the sort of things and types of people that I wanted. But you were…off-limits. You had so many walls around you, so it felt like that surely had to be one of them. And I respected that. So, I never would have thought…I don’t know.”

Just as Mira hoped, Rumi’s eyes had widened, her patterns betraying her and rushing an embarrassed pink. Before Rumi could fluster enough that it became a true distraction, Mira lost her smirk and instead looked away with a thoughtful frown.

Zoey nodded slowly from where she’d been listening, and she put her hand on Rumi’s thigh and traced her thumb over the skin, managing a shy smile as her own confession came out uncharacteristically quiet. “Same here. I’d only just started to realize that I also liked girls when I met you two. So there was a pretty good amount of thirsting on my part, for both of you.”

Pink touched Zoey’s cheeks at the immediate teasing wink Mira shot her, and she glared at the cocky girl for a moment before giving all over her attention to Rumi, who was blinking at her stupidly as her mind scrambled to find clues and jigsaw pieces scattered across her memory and put them together.

Slowly, moment by moment, Rumi’s patterns pulsed a brighter pink, and a very human blush touched her cheeks and the tips of her ears as she held eye contact with Zoey and Zoey grinned at her with a teasing edge.

Zoey giggled as Rumi’s mouth dropped open uselessly, and patted Rumi on the leg a few times before taking her hand away and folding them both together on her lap again. The playfulness in her eyes lingered as she looked away in thought, going back to those first months.

The first entire year, really.

“I told myself it was just a crush. Y’know, gay panic. I’d spent all of my life bouncing back and forth between two worlds, two cultures with different expectations and…tolerances, and it had left my identity dizzy inside of my head.” Zoey’s voice was careful and controlled, even as she winced at the memory of it. The way she’d had to tread so, so goddamn carefully those first few years. It’s hard to open a closet door secretly, when the universe was watching close enough that if the hinges squeaked she was screwed. “But you were always so sealed off and untouchable that I guess I took you off my radar.”

Rumi’s face dropped, sad and infinitely compassionate, and she shuffled slightly closer so she could reach up and lovingly brush some of Zoey’s hair off her face and back over her ear. It brought Zoey’s eyes back to hers, and she melted under Rumi’s kind gaze, but shook her head to dismiss it.

Things had turned out okay in the end. Certainly more okay than her initial fears had hurt her by whispering. Then again, standing next to blunt and shameless Mira had certainly helped her not be shy about herself.

But Rumi had always been the master at those dodges and skirting around that entire facet of an idol’s persona. She was sexualized, sure, they all were, and Rumi curated and wore her allure like a goddess wore silks. But that’s all it had been for her; a costume.

One that could be removed behind closed doors to reveal a girl who laughed and preened in interviews whenever she was asked about romance and dating, but always gave answers that said nothing.

Instead, Rumi had always been ready to play defense for her girls, manipulating and guiding interviews and the media with puppet strings and breadcrumbs to keep Zoey and Mira away from questions or scrutiny about their own private lives. Many a show host or media mogul had felt the way Rumi’s eyes could turn to ice and her smile could turn lethal if they even inched towards the happiness that belonged to her girls and only to them.

She had been their shield. 

But nobody had been hers.

With the acidic taste of regret on her tongue, Zoey leant into Rumi’s touch, her eyes closing at the sensation of Rumi’s careful fingers gliding through her hair and banishing loose knots that had twisted from the exercise. “You were always there, Rumi, catching me. You made me feel so, so safe. And god, you were so goddamn stunning, and talented, and badass. How could I not get a bit of a puppy crush for a while? Anyone would.”

The fingers in her hair stilled, but didn’t retract, and Zoey opened a single eye so she could grin at Rumi’s blush.

Rumi gave a bewildered laugh, shy and confused, as she took her hand away from Zoey and crossed her arms over her chest, looking between her two friends and seeing nothing but certainty from Zoey and agreement from Mira.

It hadn’t been particularly special for her to do, had it? She was their leader. The first into the fight and the last to leave. Not just the fights against demons either; she was the one who wrangled their marketing and PR team to protect them both when even the possibility of cruel rumors spreading roots arose. She was the one who worked the closest with Bobby on schedules, releases, and the logistics of everything they did.

She would keep them both safe. She would make them both happy.

Even if it meant having to watch from a distance as they found that joy in a closer friendship, and adventures she couldn’t go on until she was a person and not a monster.

If Rumi said it had never bothered her, it would be a lie. It hurt. It had sometimes hurt so much. But pain was something that could be survived. It was the loneliness, the isolation, that had been killing her.

Rumi frowned as the ghosts whispered in her ear, and as the train of thought finished its winding route down into her chest she sighed and looked down at her lap. “…I guess that’s fair. I never really let myself think about that sort of stuff. I had to fix myself first, I had to become a person before I could want human things.”

The sharp intake of breath from Mira wasn’t a surprise, and Rumi held up her hand and shook her head to cut off the fight against that thought she knew Mira would want to start. But she did accept Zoey’s sad whine and the way she took one of Rumi’s hands in her own to cradle with a soft, reverent touch.

Once Rumi felt in the air as Mira settled, though the sharp hiss Mira let out through her teeth said multitudes, she shrugged with a single shoulder and looked up from her lap, meeting Mira’s eye.

Rage and pain broiled underneath Mira’s scowl, something protective and sharp baring teeth that could rival Rumi’s own fangs, but she obeyed Rumi’s request and stayed quiet. It took a few moments, but her next breath came out calmer, and she huffed and crossed her arms over her chest.

Meanwhile Zoey lifted Rumi’s hand and pressed a soft kiss to her knuckles, keeping her lips lightly against the skin, and closing her eyes in sorrow.

She wasn’t like Mira, and she knew it. She couldn’t see straight through people and figure them out like Mira could. Zoey was gullible, and a bit naive. She wanted to believe the best in people. She wanted to believe that at the end of the day, everything was going to end up okay.

But one of the two people she loved most hadn’t even thought of herself as a person at all, and Zoey had let it happen.

Soft fingers brushed the underside of Zoey’s chin, trailing along her jaw, and coaxed her upward. Before she even had the chance to open her eyes and release the slight buildup of tears in the corners of them, she jumped and squeaked when a pair of soft lips were against her own.

Zoey melted through her surprise in a heartbeat, and sighed when Rumi cupped her face in both her hands, putting her own hands on Rumi’s shoulders and letting out a shaky, mournful breath that Rumi took and soothed.

It lasted only a few moments before Rumi pulled back, keeping her hands delicately on Zoey’s jaw and cheeks, and when Zoey opened her eyes Rumi looked at her with such overwhelming compassion and kindness that Zoey lost the fight to hold off tears.

As a tear slid down each cheek, Rumi brushed them away with her thumbs, and shook her head with a smile.

‘It’s not your fault. Nothing was your fault. We all did everything we could, and sometimes it just doesn’t work perfectly. It’s not your fault…’

Zoey wrapped her arms around Rumi’s shoulders and pulled her into a hug, burrowing into Rumi’s neck and closing her eyes with a sigh when Rumi immediately bundled her up and held her tightly.

Looking over Zoey’s shoulder, Rumi made eye contact with Mira, who was simply watching with a sad smile on her lips but a lingering protective rage in her pupils. Even the Honmoon was responding to Mira’s fury, shifting and swirling around her on the couch as if waiting for her to grab for her weapon.

Always supportive. Always there for them.

But Mira tried her best to keep her muscles relaxed, and she nodded for Rumi to go on.

Rumi smiled in sad resignation as she ran her fingers through Zoey’s hair once more. “Celine had always told me that connections with other people were too dangerous until my patterns were gone. So I never let myself think about that sort of stuff. Never let myself want it beyond just…fantasies.”

The emphasis on ‘fantasies’ had Mira quirk an eyebrow, and she chuckled low when Rumi rolled her eyes. But once more, her patterns betrayed her, and Zoey shuffled in the hug when the heat of them burning pink and silver warmed her even through their layers of clothing.

When Zoey shuffled, Rumi released her from the hug, and smiled when Zoey sat close enough that she had to keep her legs over Rumi’s lap just so she didn’t fall off the couch. Taking it as an invitation, Mira slid closer as well, still fully naked and seemingly unbothered by being so, and shuffled in close enough she could wrap an arm around Zoey’s waist to anchor herself. She pressed a gentle kiss to Zoey’s cheek in thanks when Zoey shifted another few inches so Mira wasn’t balancing precariously on the edge.

It was an awkward pile, dangerously wrapped and balanced, and only a single poorly planned readjustment away from sending the three of them crashing to the ground and one of them inevitably hitting their head on the coffee table on the way down.

But god it was worth it, and Rumi rested her head on Zoey’s shoulder as she chuckled, and reached over to take Mira’s free hand to squeeze it.

The next confession slipped out of her lips without any care to stop it, simply basking in Zoey’s warmth and the feel of Mira’s fingers tracing along her wrist with light, playful scratches from her nails.

“If what happens to me when I give in to…that part of me is any indication, I clearly do want it. I appear to want you both literally more than humanly possible.” Rumi sighed, and refused to be embarrassed or mortified when it came out more like a purr than anything else, her patterns pulsing and her chest rumbling. “...I’ve never wanted someone before last night. Not with my whole being. I’ve never even had a crush before, for god’s sake.”

Zoey and Mira looked at each other silently, both of them continuing their calm, gentle touches along Rumi’s hair and skin. But the silent conversation they shared had their eyes sad and the corners of their lips tight and heavy.

So many missed years. So, so many days and nights spent without the third member of their trio, because she locked herself away. Nights spent curled up in the sheets together, sweaty and panting from the way they tore at each other, but despite the satisfaction they’d known that something was missing. A piece of their jigsaw puzzle that they couldn’t contort themselves into filling the gap for on their own.

Meanwhile Rumi had been so alone that she hadn’t known what wanting someone even felt like. So when it happened, she hadn’t even known the name for it.

Zoey wanted to cry again, but she didn’t, instead she placed a light kiss to the top of Rumi’s head, and ran her fingers down the few inches of exposed patterns along Rumi’s collarbone where her shirt had slipped down.

Under her touch, the lines glistened silver and blue, and beneath where the three of them were curled up the Honmoon sang as Mira squeezed Rumi’s hand and held eye contact with Zoey for a moment longer.

But Mira then thinned her lips, and broke the sad silence. “What about Jinu?”

Rumi squeezed Mira’s hand back as tension spread through her muscles and hurt. Inside her chest, a blade as thin as a needle and cruel as a scalpel scratched along her heart, drawing blood not to kill but to ache.

With a heavy sigh, Rumi sat up, and looked off and out the window, her eyes taking in the lights of the skyscrapers high enough to match their penthouse, but none of it reaching her mind through her optic nerves. Instead her mind was far away, somewhere that hurt and reassured in equal measure.

For a slow, steady moment, her patterns glimmered a mournful navy blue across her ribs and along her spine, and she closed her eyes and let her head drop.

‘I’m so sorry, Jinu…I’m sorry I didn’t believe you.’

It hurt, god, it hurt. Grief was something Rumi was familiar with. Growing up with a specific tree always visible out her bedroom window made sure of that. But this was different. Because she’d never had her mother. She hadn’t been taken away so much as she was simply just never there in the first place.

But Jinu had been there. As the person who understood, and the one she tried to save.

To have, and to lose, without knowing so many things. The grief of ‘maybe’ and ‘we could have’ and so many ‘almosts’ that she wanted to rip open her chest and bleed them onto the floor. But human history had proven that bleeding never cured an infection, instead it simply hurt.

Rumi bit her bottom lip so tightly that she tasted the slightest tease of iron, and shrugged with a weight so heavy she thought her spine would snap. It was barely a whisper when she spoke. “Maybe. I’ll never know now, and…I’ll make my peace with that.”

A soft, loving kiss to her temple from Zoey helped, but Rumi let it hurt all the same, for a few moments at least. She had shed her tears for Jinu and everything that the fight against Gwi-Ma had cost. The other people who’d had to suffer in the years, months, and final days leading up to when the three of them had been strong enough, honest enough, to destroy shame and misery incarnate.

As the ache faded away again, leaving behind its scent on the wind like the last day of winter before the flowers return, Rumi chuckled and shook her head in absolute wonder. “I never thought that anyone would want me, especially while I was still cursed. God, I’m here right now still so stunned that you two wanted all of…what we just did. And that it was even possible.”

Zoey giggled and nodded. “If someone had asked me before last night if I thought it might happen, I wouldn’t have known what answer to give.”

Careful not to dislodge any of them too dangerously, Zoey then leaned back and coaxed Rumi to turn to her, meeting her eye with a gentle, shy smile. A dusting of pink touched Zoey’s cheeks as her eyes sparkled, and Rumi frowned at the wait it took for Zoey to build up courage.

Zoey took in a deep breath and let it out slowly, biting her lips to brace herself, and stared unblinking into Rumi’s concerned eyes. “But by dawn it all made sense. This makes sense. You’re our Rumi, fangs and all. Just like we’re yours.”

A sudden blinding light radiated through the room as Rumi’s eyes widened and she gasped, the delicate, curving lines across her torso and along her spine shimmering silver and blue so purely it cascaded a borealis across their ceiling. Oceanic and pure, as white and cerulean as the summer sea, and Rumi stared at Zoey in uncomprehending, heart-hammering confusion.

Blinking away the glare, Zoey’s mouth dropped open as she peered around at the light dancing across every surface around them, and how the Honmoon was humming and pulsing in delight and an awe of its own. She couldn’t help but smile and laugh in wonder, looking to Rumi again with sparkling eyes.

Rumi’s patterns may have been radiant, but her face was bright red, and when she gave her own baffled smile the slightest hint of fangs had Zoey’s breath catch and a rush of electricity tickle along her skin.

From where she was looking around at the light as well, Mira chuckled and ran her fingers along the threads of the Honmoon glowing across the surface of the couch, smiling in familiar comfort as it danced under her touch as a perfect partner, in sync and pure.

The sound caught the attention of the others, Zoey’s eyes flicking to her and her eyebrows rising, while Rumi instead had to shuffle and turn entirely so she could tilt her head with a smile that could only be described as hopeful.

Mira shrugged and gestured to Zoey with her head. “Yeah, what she said.”

Unimpressed, Zoey rolled her eyes with a heatless scoff, and gave Mira her most exasperated and playfully reprimanding scowl. Zoey wasn’t great at scowling, so it came across as more of a pout. But it worked, it always did, and Mira groaned and shook her head.

“...look, I’m not great at this. I know that. But, Zoey is right.” Mira shrugged helplessly, her eyes going to where Rumi was looking at her in patient silence, waiting for her.

There was such openness to the way Rumi was staring at her, a sincerity and desperation for an explanation in her eyes so potent that Mira’s heart pounded in a demand for her mind to hurry the hell up and get it out there. The eternal battle between bluntness, and reason.

But there was nothing ‘reasonable’ about what was happening. Nothing that could be listed in Pros & Cons. Instead it was something that simply had to be felt. Something that had to be known. And that was an approach that Mira understood down to her bones.

So Mira’s expression steeled, and she held Rumi’s stare with firm, unpolished honesty. “I have a lot of trouble trusting it when the people I care for say they care for me too. But these? These I trust.”

Mira tilted her head to the side to bare her neck, to bring the large, black marks to Rumi’s attention and focus. The ornately traced signature of her fangs, of her hunger, of the way she had needed Mira so badly that it had gone beyond words and just became instinct. Rumi’s eyes widened as she looked at the reminders, and a tint of pink threaded through the patterns across her ribs, directly over her heart.

The light gradually faded as she looked back into Mira’s eyes, and felt the calming sensation of Zoey’s fingers through her hair. What had been a blinding light of silver, blue, and pink dimmed enough that Zoey no longer had to squint just to be close enough to press a kiss to the back of Rumi’s shoulder.

Once Rumi had calmed, the shock on her face shifting into a low frown of contemplation as she digested and thought, Mira continued with a heavy sigh.

“It took me a long time to adjust to the idea that the two of you wanted me around for a lot of the things that had me so shut out, growing up. The sharp edges I have that my family used to sever their threads to me, you two like.” Mira gave a crooked smile when Zoey nodded eagerly, and she chuckled at the way Rumi matched Zoey’s nod with one of her own. But Mira’s words were quiet and pained, stripped of what had once been rage and despair, as she continued. “You took me in when I didn’t have anywhere I could call home. And you wanted me here. This is my home, and you two are my family.”

Mira carefully extracted herself from her place in the middle of the pretzel, so she was able to shuffle until she was sitting next to Rumi properly, shoulder to shoulder, with Zoey’s legs stretched over both of their laps.

Close enough to Rumi that she could whisper and still be heard, Mira smiled softly, and nodded a single, slow time before leaning in carefully, giving Rumi plenty of time to pull away. But Rumi didn’t, instead her eyes flicked down to Mira’s lips as she swallowed.

When Mira smiled and whispered, her lips were close enough to Rumi’s that they brushed, just a ghost of a kiss. “Just like Zoey said; fangs and all.”

The kiss was soft as Rumi closed the final millimeters of distance, brave and gentle and refusing to overthink or second-guess, and Mira pushed into it without hesitation. Mira placed a hand on Rumi’s neck, light and sure, her thumb tracing along the underside of Rumi’s jaw, and she sighed when both of Rumi’s hands went to her hair.

Despite the way they grabbed for each other, their hands anchoring each other close and trapping each other in the gravity, the kiss itself was a sweet, sincere thing. Rumi’s lips were playful and eager, taking the time to map along to the corner of Mira’s mouth, breaking off for a split second to place a kiss to her cheek, and then back to taste her properly.

Mira sighed, completely at peace, as she parted her lips and allowed Rumi to tell her everything that had to be said, through a language that Mira knew would never be a lie. This was the truth, bare and raw, as Rumi traced along her tongue with her own and sighed serenely.

There was the sound of shuffling, the couch cushion dipping slightly as Zoey sat up and shuffled until she was precariously balanced on both of their laps entirely, and neither Mira or Rumi hesitated at all to wrap an arm around her to hold her up.

When Zoey pressed her own light kiss to Rumi’s cheek, Mira broke off the kiss with a ghostly peck, and smiled in soft encouragement for Rumi to turn her head and capture Zoey’s lips with the same gentle peace that had her patterns swimming gentle silver.

Zoey smiled against Rumi’s lips as she wrapped her arms around her neck to pull herself closer and hold herself at the perfect angle, pressing against Rumi’s warmth and gasping into her mouth when Rumi shivered deep in her chest at the feeling of both of her girls encompassing her.

They were everywhere. Zoey on her lap, arms around her shoulders and kissing her like it was oxygen. Mira next to her, one arm around Zoey and the other around Rumi’s waist, pressing slow, soft kisses along the expanse of her neck. Nothing lustful, simply reverent, as if finally being able to do it was a great, holy privilege.

When Mira kissed the underside of her jaw with a hum, Rumi pulled back from Zoey’s lips, and smiled at them both with watery eyes. But then her eyes widened and her skin rippled numb and electric when Zoey unwrapped an arm from her to cup Mira’s face and pull her in.

Watching Zoey and Mira kiss was…breathtaking. It was like watching a dance, the perfect ease and grace of ballet. It was watching a firebreather on the beach, lighting the sand gold as the tide came in, sending infernos dancing across the starlight. It was an opera, romance and tragedy in equal measure, each note vibrating her bones.

There was always an awe in watching someone do what they were born to do. What they were destined for. It was a euphoric privilege normally reserved for artists. But at that moment, Rumi learned that it was sometimes for lovers too.

Her cheek burned hot as a tear escaped her eye and trailed down, dripping onto her lap as her patterns were pulsing pink and blue.

Rumi’s words came out as a whisper, without her even meaning to speak her thoughts aloud. “I never thought I’d ever get to have anything like this…”

The kiss between the other two faded, slowing and softening, until they pulled apart with a final gentle smile at each other, then both turned their attention entirely to Rumi. Zoey whined sadly and brushed away Rumi’s silent tears with her thumb, and Mira cupped Rumi’s jaw to press a line of soft, loving kisses up to the center of her forehead.

But they could tell Rumi wasn’t done. So they listened.

Rumi closed her eyes with shaking breaths, leaning into the touch and her heart skipping and slowing with each time Mira kissed her skin. It helped. God, it always helped. It was new, but…it was perfect.

“All that mattered was the Honmoon and my patterns fading, and I’d be allowed to feel and learn all that stuff afterwards. I’d be able to ‘get around to’ figuring it all out.” Rumi sighed, reaching out blindly with a hand until she found Zoey’s hip, and her other arm went around Mira’s waist.

She pulled them in close, and under her strength and neediness they both melted against her, molding perfectly to her shape until they were both embracing her tightly from either side.

Zoey hushed her quietly, nuzzling into Rumi’s hair and pressing the occasional kiss, rare and special as any gift, while Mira continued to stroke her fingers along Rumi’s cheek and hum softly. Every nerve they brushed sang and sparked, whispering through her chest.

To come in from a blizzard and step in front of a flickering hearth could be painful if done too fast and eagerly. Turning numbness into sensation took time and care. Ice cold blood rushing back to a relaxing heart could kill, fast and painful and leaving fingers black and lips cracked.

A life in the snow, in an endless icy expanse, but with a body that refused to wither and rot, had Rumi shivering and sweating in the strange heat of lips pressed to her skin and fingers tracing along her arms and spine.

It was almost painful, as color returned to her blood and something resembling comfort crackled and smoldered in her chest. The noise of touch was a deafening howl after life in the silence of winter, curling through her ears with promises that she would have dismissed as lies if they were said in any voice other than those of her girls.

Her chest ached as warm, living blood soaked into muscles and membranes that had strained for twenty-five years, and she let her eyes close.

“I never thought…I’d get this.” Rumi whispered.

The confession was cracked and dry, she half expected her tongue and lips to bleed as it scraped out, and the way Zoey and Mira both froze made the corners of her eyes sting. The sound Zoey made was a punched out whine, as if a knife had been driven into her ribs, and Mira’s touch tightened as she immediately pressed a firm, grounding kiss to the top of Rumi’s head.

Zoey gently shifted in, light and sincere, to rest her forehead against Rumi’s and brush their noses together, unoffended that Rumi kept her eyes squeezed shut. Navy blue and toxic purple glistened across Rumi’s patterns as despair mixed with shame, something distrusting but desperate to believe, to find faith.

So, to give her something to believe in, Zoey whispered with a voice like a shy angel.

“You always deserved this.” Zoey tightened her lips when Rumi shuddered, and her own eyes misted when tears began to drip down Rumi’s cheeks. “Oh baby…we’ve got you. Always.”

Mira reached up to gently cup Rumi’s head and hold her close, running her fingers through her hair. “Always.”

And so, under their hands and love, Rumi wept. There was no pressure. No pain. No burning inferno inside of her chest anymore. The universe had poured out of her soul, returned to the beauty from whence it came. But it hadn’t left her feeling empty. Instead, for every gap it had left behind, she knew something else had taken its place, soothing the wounds and leaving her full and content.

So the tears came, but they didn’t hurt. Instead they simply were. It was grief, loss, and twenty years of not knowing what she deserved or what she could have.

Of never, in her wildest dreams, imagining for a second that she’d have this.

In raindrops along her skin, Rumi’s patterns bloomed like flowerbuds, spreading out across her once more as she buried her face into Mira’s neck and sobbed. A kaleidoscope of blues, golds, and pained purples swirled across her body from her forehead to her toes, with loss and grief wrapping around her fingers and having her dig her grip into the two of them with a desperation they welcomed.

Slowly, her patterns settled on a singular color, as a royal dark blue wrapped vines around her and bathed the room in the full spectrum of the ocean. A blue star, burning bright but also fast, as Rumi’s shaking sobs settled and eased, leaving her exhausted and limp, Mira and Zoey holding her entire body weight between them without any issue or complaint.

Instead they simply surrounded her, leaving scattered kisses across her skin, and tracing loving lines with their fingers. Whispered words of love and reassurance surrounded her, wind chimes and guitar strings twisting into her the tune of her heart, that mournful violin.

Rumi sniffled one final time and looked up and around at them both with red-rimmed eyes. “With you two…it’s always just been instinctual. Being by your side was something I never had to learn, just let out. I latched onto you both. And holding onto it, onto us, was the first time in my life I remember ever feeling…real.”

Immediately enveloped in the embrace and touch of her friends again, Rumi didn’t resist as they both pulled her close, Zoey scrambling around the massive pile of pillows and blankets that Mira had brought out. In a matter of moments, their deep couch had been transformed into a bed, with the three of them smothered in softness and warmth as they cuddled up together.

There was no discussion around Rumi ending up in the middle, it was simply the right way for things to be, and she closed her eyes and basked in the closeness as she was sandwiched between the two people who loved her the most. The people who accepted her. Who followed her.

The two who wanted her.

Rumi’s heart settled and slowed under the loving, gentle touch of Mira’s fingers through her hair, but she shuddered and twitched with every light kiss that Zoey placed to one of her lingering patterns. The dark blue, the sorrow, slowly settled and washed away, allowing something purer to take its place once more.

Zoey’s lips and fingertips were paintbrushes along her body, leaving silver and light blue in lines and curves like paint drops on canvas to spread and blossom. Each brush stroke punctuated with a hum from Rumi’s lips at the sensation of electricity across her body, shuddering down into her chest and rooting there.

It was Mira’s breath that steadied first, her eyes closing and her stroking fingers growing lazy as she dozed, tired and sore. But she didn’t let herself slip into a full sleep, instead just taking the opportunity to rest. And Rumi soon did the same, purring deep in her chest as she nuzzled into Mira’s side and managed to find her cheek to place a quick kiss, before settling.

But while the others rested, safe and warm, Zoey’s eyes remained open as she thought, a hand over her own heart and her fingers digging into her skin as if she could reach the organ to pluck it out and examine it for harm or hindrance.

Because the ghost of an ache threatened to make her buckle and break, and it had her blurt out far too loudly and abruptly.

“I…don’t want this to be just a sex thing for Rumi’s stress relief!”

The other two startled violently, Rumi sitting up so fast that she briefly blacked out and almost fell off the couch if Mira didn’t catch her purely on reflex, the other girl barely conscious and blinking herself back to awareness with a hammering heart.

Zoey winced apologetically when they both looked at her, and she curled in on herself at the bewildered looks they both gave her. “Don’t get me wrong, that would be hot, but I’m not sure if my heart could handle it.”

With her heart still hammering in her chest and pounding between her ears from the shocking wake up, Mira ran her hands over her face and groaned into her palms. “Jesus Christ, Zoey.”

Rumi had far more composure at the ready, just as she always did, and she gave Zoey a concerned, gentle look even as she swayed in place. She reached out to take Zoey’s hand, and cradled it in both of her own. Because the way Zoey was looking at them both had Rumi’s heart trying to escape her chest so it could close the distance and comfort Zoey’s from as close as close could be. It…was also something that needed to be talked about, and they all knew it. So, Rumi squeezed Zoey’s hand and ran her thumb over the back of her knuckles.

“I have no idea how you switch back and forth between the way you are during...uhh, all of that,” Rumi laughed, momentarily shy, and squeezed Zoey’s hand. ”then back to your normal anxious self, while still glowing and ruffled.”

Zoey grinned with a wink, and shrugged with anxiety soaked into every nerve and muscle. “I contain multitudes. I’m a very nuanced woman, Rumi.”

Pleased when Rumi laughed and Mira snorted, Zoey giggled and squeezed Rumi’s hands, letting the amusement play out and settle the air between them all. But then she frowned and shrank in once more, and looked between them both.

It was a look that they were both familiar with, ancient and carved into the soul. A look that each of them had worn over the course of their lives, reserved for desperation. It was ‘please love all of me’, it was ‘I’ll earn it I promise’, it was ‘I love you too much to be the one to let you go’.

Zoey let out a slow breath, and her voice wavered and wobbled as she spoke, trying her best to put the words in the right order. “I love you both, you know that. I know that you both know that. And, god, I’ll love you two in any way you let me, but it better be a way you both love me back or otherwise it’ll break me.”

Immediately looking down at her lap, Zoey closed her eyes with a strained sigh. It was an echo in her head and heart, travelling back a lifetime and forwards into an unknowable future. It was one of those things that made sense, sure, but just because something made sense didn’t mean that it worked. Just because she understood what she wanted, didn’t mean she would get it.

When Rumi released her hand, Zoey’s heart lurched in dread and fear, only to pulse with warmth when Rumi fully pulled her in. Coaxing Zoey to lay back down, Rumi shuffled and adjusted them so Zoey was on her chest, and wrapped her up tight in her arms.

Zoey immediately grabbed back, bundling up Rumi’s shirt in her fists and opening her eyes to look up, her cheeks warming at the way Rumi was looking down at her with such soft compassion that she felt as if her bones were brushed with feathers, leaving them tingling and soft.

There was a bit of awkward scrambling as Mira huffed and moved, swinging over them both so she could settle in on Zoey’s other side, and suddenly Zoey was the one being sandwiched and comforted.

Mira pressed a kiss to the back of Zoey’s head, and scoffed. “It’s astounding to me that we’ve never used any of our substantial finances on therapy. Now that the Honmoon is safe and we can chill out, I’m putting a pin in that idea, because holy shit, you two.”

Both of them flushed in embarrassment, but neither of them could exactly refute it. While it would have been an easy target for either of them to point out that Mira wasn’t exactly the picture of perfect mental health either, neither of them took the easy shot. Because if how Mira was smirking when Rumi dryly raised an eyebrow was any indication, she was well aware that they were all a mess.

A glorious, loving, victorious mess. Out the other side of the war bruised and beaten up, but alive. And together.

Mira nodded to herself slowly, and her voice was certain as she sat up so she could make eye contact with both of them. “The three of us, side by side, are my home. The one I chose, and the one we built together. Whatever form that home takes, whatever we are to each other, it’ll feel right.”

The smile that bloomed on Zoey’s face, and the way that Rumi’s patterns pulsed a solid, comforting white, made everything worth it in that single moment. Mira shrugged with that same small smile as if it were no big deal, but there was no taking the shine out of her eyes and the way she reached down to run the back of her fingers along Zoey’s cheek, and leant in to rest her forehead against Rumi’s.

Rumi took in a deep breath through her nose, her song and soul settling at the scents of her friends and the penthouse, mixed with dinner and sex. The scent of home, both the physical and the spiritual.

The Honmoon briefly sparkled underneath her as she let out the breath in a shaky sigh. ‘This is real. I am here. So are they. You get to have this, Rumi. Trust it. You can trust it.’

Rumi bit the corner of her lip and sighed, brushing her nose against Mira’s and continuing the strokes of her fingers through Zoey’s hair. Nodding in acceptance of the great burden to come, the voyage to be taken, she smiled at the comfort and confidence that she wouldn’t be doing it alone.

“I have a long few months, probably years, ahead of me trying to learn how to be who and what I am. But there’s no version of me that I could ever want to become, that doesn’t have you both.”

Zoey slowly sat up, shuffling carefully so she didn’t push Rumi and Mira away from each other, and rested her forehead against Rumi’s temple with a smile, her voice soft. “We’re yours, Rumi. We’ve always been yours.”

Nodding gently in agreement, the movement miniscule and light, Mira opened her eyes to peer into Rumi’s, and she raised her eyebrows. “And you’re ours. Right?”

In an enclosed estate a few hours drive outside of Seoul, protected by ancient walls and curated with loving hands, there is a tree.

Decorated with ribbons and surrounded by flowers, the shade it cast over the sprawling graveyard around it kept it peaceful to walk under no matter how harsh the sun, and it kept the rain mostly at bay if someone were to feel the need to kneel by one of the gravestones at night.

That rain had never bothered Rumi that much, when she used to kneel in front of her mother’s grave in the middle of the night. It had been easy to sneak out back when it was just Celine to get past, but it had gotten harder once there were suddenly three people to sneak past without waking instead of just one. But at least once a week she managed to do it, and she would kneel underneath the gorgeous branches of the great tree, and brush the leaves clear from the simple memorial stone that had been placed.

The graveyard of stones and ghosts was large, too large, each marker carved with the name of a hunter who had fallen in the line of duty. Because hunters didn’t tend to grow old. Not unless they were cursed to be the one who survived, left aimless and grey just as Celine had been.

It was in that cemetery that the three of them had sworn their vow to create the Golden Honmoon. It was in that cemetery that a much younger Rumi had sworn in front of her mother’s grave, with Celine’s hand on her back, that she would be free of her patterns no matter the cost.

It was in that cemetery that Rumi, at the fresh age of nineteen, had knelt in front of her mother’s grave and confessed that she might not be able to keep her promise. That her two girls, beautiful and kind and by her side, would come first. That if the time came where she had to choose between keeping them safe, and fixing herself, she would fall on the sword. It was better to be a monster with them, than a person alone. She’d known that the moment she’d met them.

Even though she had only known Mira and Zoey for a few months by then, she knew she meant it as she lit a stick of incense and knelt in front of her mother’s name, and she hoped her mother would understand the way her heart had come alive inside her chest. The way she yearned that she couldn’t define or name, the scale of it already slipping through her fingers like smoke, leaving just its taste in the air every time she looked in on the other two from the outside.

All she wanted was to be there. To be one of them. Perfection or not. And wasn’t that normal? Wasn’t that okay? Her mom would understand, would forgive her for threatening her vow, right?

Because mothers are meant to want their children to find love and to cherish it, so Rumi had been so desperate for hers to understand. To forgive her. Even if Celine might not.

The ribbons on the tree had rippled in the breeze, then. A message. A forgiveness. An encouragement, and an embrace.

‘Love, Rumi. You have so much love to give. Love from your depths, for diamonds are found in caverns deep.’

Rumi felt that same breeze as she looked between Mira and Zoey now, a hand on each of their cheeks as she smiled, the easiest answer in the world coming from her lips. One she had promised and apologized for back when she’d first met them.

“I always have been.” Rumi breathed, and she hoped her mother was proud of her, wherever she was, as her eyes misted and her glowing patterns found their diamonds, dancing white and perfect. “...fangs and all.”

It was almost celestial, how Rumi’s patterns pulsed white, painting along her ribs and the ridges of her spine, and decorating her collarbone with starlight. It was a gentle, calming shine. The moon after a day of storms. The late night streetlight outside of home.

‘Home.’

What a massive word.

The three girls rested their heads together, hands held between them as if in prayer, and none of them commented or reacted to how the Honmoon danced around them, caressing them with its threads and surrounding them with its song. It was the tide that brought them to shore. The current of a fresh water river in a forest.

It wasn’t just music incarnate. It was them. They had built it, stitched it out of song and soul and themselves in the purest sense of the word. And so it was invincible. And so it was eternal. Because sometimes, just for the hell of it, something gets to last forever.

So why not this time? Why not them?

They squeezed each other's hands tight, leaning back only the inch it would take to give them room to look between each other, wordless and wonderful. Rumi nudged Zoey’s nose with her own to guide her, and Zoey grinned happily as she tilted her head properly and let Rumi kiss her.

Initially expecting Zoey’s kiss to be light and romantic, Rumi was surprised when Zoey pulled her in and wrapped her arms around her neck, and Rumi gladly put her hands on Zoey’s hips and ran her touch over the dip and curve, feeling the muscle within and digging her fingers into it.

Zoey’s tongue prodded her mouth, eager and ecstatic, and Rumi parted her lips willingly as she pushed against Zoey to mold their forms together. But Zoey pulled back out of the embrace as Rumi did so, and used their combined momentum to fall back onto the couch with Rumi on top of her.

Laughing brightly at Zoey’s want, Rumi felt her patterns burn as Zoey shifted her legs so her thigh was between Rumi’s, a tease and a promise, and the smile against Rumi’s lips the request and offer.

Rumi broke off the kiss, ignoring the sad whine Zoey let out, and she looked down at Zoey with glassy eyes and swollen lips. “I was worried I was going to get bored during our hiatus. I’ve never had free time before. I was concerned I’d go stir crazy.”

Easily able to resist Zoey’s strength when the smaller girl giggled and tried to pull her back down, Rumi instead looked over her shoulder at where Mira was watching with a mesmerized hunger.

Rumi growled low in her throat as she ran her eyes up and down Mira’s body, and her patterns slowly began to lose their pure, angelic silver. “I don’t feel that boredom is going to be an issue now.”

Crimson lit the room once more as Rumi looked between her two girls, a deep red growing in her chest just over her heart. But there was no inferno, no great pressure that needed to be released. It was just her, and just them, and it had her breathless as she looked at Mira with unsated hunger and desire.

Mira tried to scoff nonchalantly, but the shakiness in her voice gave away the tingling in her skin as she began to move closer at Rumi’s beckoning. “Oh god, what have we unleashed?”

Fabric rustled as Zoey - unhappy about being ignored and Rumi trying to do the whole ‘restraint’ thing that, frankly, really didn’t suit her - pulled her shirt back up and off, then impatiently grabbed Rumi’s wrist to guide it to her breast with a grin.

“Well gee, over two decades of touch starvation, for one.” Zoey hissed in satisfaction when Rumi’s attention immediately locked onto her with wide eyes and parted lips. “But I reckon we’re up to the task of making up for lost time…”

Not needing any further invitation, Rumi wrapped her hand around the back of Mira’s head to grab a fistful of hair and pull her in closer, even as she leant down to kiss Zoey once more, guiding Mira to her neck for Mira to immediately part her lips and bite down.

The walls and ceiling danced with light; crimson, blue, and pink in cascade as it kept the darkness at bay, just as Rumi always had. Even if she hadn’t known it. Even if she’d never been thanked for it. Now she would be. Every moment she let them.

Because Zoey was right. Rumi had always been their light.

Their way home.

Their safety in the dark.

Their nightlight.

Chapter Text

Rumi knew she wasn’t any kind of god, no matter how omnipotent she felt with the Honmoon burning within her skin, wrapping its threads around her muscles and weaving in with the arteries and veins making her alive as she bathed in the cheers and tears of the howling crowd while she gave her final bow.

Their first show after a three month hiatus, and Rumi had to quickly turn away and brush tears from her cheeks because of it. A hand over her chest could feel the magma leaking down her atoms and cracking them open in fission, and she ground her palm into the conflux of her ribs as if to physically hold it down.

As if pressure alone could kill what her voice had conjured. Instead it merely scalded whatever tried to cage it. Three months ago, it had felt like incineration. Now it felt like glory.

It had been ‘Golden’ that had done it. While their original version of the song had been a highlight of the main show, it wasn’t a true anthem to who they were anymore. So they had tried something new, something gentler. Because the three of them were more grounded now, out the other side of the battles and loss. Self-acceptance and new ambitions captured by late-night murmurs, not roars.

So the three of them had carefully and privately worked on a reprise over the hiatus, curled up in their studio until all hours of the night. Something softer, more kind. Not so much a rousing celebration of being able to emerge as they really are, but instead a prayer, a plea to the universe to have a place for the people they were ready to be.

A message to everyone who listened that they could be accepted too. That one of the true marks and shines of a better life is being able to live as you are without regrets. And that now, the three of them could. So they will.

The perfect thing for an encore, after the first show in their return.

Rumi’s voice had asked for their fans to be strong and to be themselves, and they had risen to the call. They had given her their hearts to protect and to cherish, and she held their heartbeats on rhythm with the metronome of her own humming pulse. The Honmoon rippled around her with every breath, having no room in itself for the power she had taken, but was drawn to its magnetic pull all the same.

Everything answered to her. Everything and everyone wanted her. The crowd around them, the Honmoon beneath them, and her two girls, who were watching her with wide eyes as her skin seemed to shimmer under the bright show lights. The high collar of her jacket struggled to hide the patterns rising out from her skin, radiating white in curling pulses, and even the inches of her without marks seemed to shine.

Thankfully, all the signs of the pressure building inside of her that was starting to wear cracks in her physical shell, could be hidden or disguised; the glow in her irises blamed on show lights, the burning heat of her skin and her sheen of sweat blamed on the choreography, and the slight sharpening of her nails easily passed as fashion.

But Mira and Zoey couldn’t just see it on Rumi. They could hear it in her voice, and taste it in the air around her like ozone around a lightning strike and petrichor under a growling storm.

Rumi was a fresh sun, crackling and roaring as she took the sound of the universe and turned it into light.

Gods had nothing on her, right now.

A packed stadium, no free room, swirled into her chest and rooted into the space behind her ribs where a human heart lived while interwoven with something greater. Every movement had the Honmoon ripple and churn beneath her high-heeled boots as the stadium lights blacked out for her to step away and vanish.

With all the might and focus of the warrior and scion she was, Rumi held herself tight as she nimbly ducked down the stairs and underneath the arena, with Mira and Zoey both right on her heels.

The moment they were tucked away, ignorant of the backstage crew rushing and bustling around them, they held each other's stares for a moment of stillness before the dam broke for each of them in tandem.

Zoey squealed so high pitched the steel beams near her should have fractured as she leapt forward and bundled the other two up in her arms, wiggling at the adrenaline drugging her muscles, and beaming when Rumi and Mira both laughed and held her just as close.

The euphoria radiated out of the trio in pulsing waves, so potent and pure that it went past just dancing with the Honmoon and instead soaked into the hearts of all the crew near them, coaxing smiles and light steps from the people as they passed.

The hiatus was over, the hauntings of Namsan Tower and the Idol Awards a greying memory in the public’s eye, with healed wounds and nights spent talking, apologizing, healing. Days spent in their studio - complete with new couches - writing and composing, piecing their next album together out of mournful regrets and a love that hadn’t just been repaired, but had become something more.

It was time for Huntrix to return. Not because the world needed them, considering the new Honmoon was a force of nature that was seemingly only growing stronger, but because they needed it. Because being in private together was their happiness, but performing was their joy, and they were greedy enough to have both.

So with the sounds of the crowd above them laughing and vibrating as satisfied and overjoyed fans made their way out of the stadium and into the streets, the three girls held each other close, smiling with soft tears and return of purpose. It settled in their blood like oxygen, making Zoey giggle with every breath and Mira’s skin feel aflame and perfect as they simply held each other close and rejoiced in their world renewed.

But then Rumi shifted. It was the slightest twitch, a bare flex of a few small muscles just to fidget and roll some of the power she was feeling. Unable to be still, or cradle it in hopes that it would soothe. A clenching of her fingers, tightening her grip, and a stuttering in her breathing when the heat in her chest bubbled as she tried to hold it down.

Even though Rumi tried her best to keep it unnoticeable, an innocuous push down on the pressure stretching her skin thin, Mira and Zoey both froze, and looked at each other with raised eyebrows and growing smirks.

Just as they’d expected. Just as they’d prepared for.

Just as they’d hoped.

Zoey grabbed Rumi’s wrist and pulled her in an eager rush, with enough force that Rumi stumbled and nearly tripped a dozen times in her helplessness against the sheer enthusiasm and determination Zoey was dragging her along with through the winding halls and the back rooms of the stadium. Until the door of the greenroom was in sight, and Rumi’s eyes widened at the cackle Zoey let out and the way Mira shoved her from behind to get them moving even faster.

Zoey practically broke the door off its hinges as she flew inside, pivoting on her heel to gracefully catch Rumi as the girl’s momentum carried her into her arms, and her eyes sparkled with sharp intent.

The door slammed shut with a harsh bang from a hard flick of Mira’s wrist. A sound only overshadowed by the thump from Zoey shoving Rumi up against the wood and crashing their mouths together with an adrenaline-drunk sigh.

That did it, the hammer touch to cobwebbed glass, and Rumi groaned into Zoey’s mouth as her patterns ignited and rushed to pure, overwhelmed life across her entire body. Most of her skin was still covered by her outfit, but even the black leathers of her jacket and shorts were struggling to smother the light coming from her in its painted tapestry.

When Mira’s lips were immediately on her neck, an agile tongue dragging roughly up a pulsing silver line and leaving a scorching trail of pink, Rumi moaned and grabbed for them both, a hand fisting in Mira’s shirt and the other wrapping around the back of Zoey’s neck to keep the kiss.

Light, light, so much fucking heat, she was burning, she was detonating, she was radiant, she was a solar flare, giving the universe a way to practice being beautiful. It was the pain of too long in the sun, of holding her breath underneath the ocean and looking up at the rippling current above, with crushing void all around her but beauty being all she could see.

It traced along her bones in delicate calligraphy, tracing power and presence and leaving kisses on her veins on the way up to her skin. Thick patterns burning bright. Vines wrapping and weaving up towards the sunlight, desperate to blossom with something akin to flowers.

Zoey’s fingers dragged along the curving marks illuminating her neck, the pressure and touch screaming across Rumi’s entire body and turning her mind white, making her whimper into Zoey’s mouth. Hands had flown to the laces and buckles of her outfit, popping her cropped jacket open with practiced ease, and the feel of Mira’s hands behind able to reach her bare waist was enough to jolt Rumi back to reality just enough for her to break off the kiss and speak with panting breaths.

“Guys, I’m okay! I’m okay for now. I can,” groaning and her head falling back, Rumi’s fingers slid through Mira’s hair. “wait until we get back to the-…fuck…”

Despite her words, she anchored Mira’s lips and teeth to her neck all the same, her grip violent and eager with a twist that had Mira hiss and shiver. Zoey smirked at the way Rumi’s eyes fluttered as her head fell back, and she quickly slid her own jacket off and simply let it fall to the floor.

“And what, pray, makes you think we want to wait?” Zoey pressed against Rumi as close as she could force, molding their bodies together and pinning Rumi to the thick wood of the door. Rumi’s eyes opened again and stared into hers, with an iris already starting to hum a low gold, and Zoey shivered at the sight. “Oh baby…you were in so much pain after the last show. Don’t you remember? We don’t want you to suffer. It’s a long drive back to the hotel.”

Rumi shuddered when Mira’s tongue traced up her neck, scorching pink up to her pounding pulse, and when Mira sucked and bit down Rumi would have dropped if Zoey’s body and pressure hadn’t been holding her up. But then Zoey’s thigh slid between her own, using Rumi’s buckling knees and dropping weight against her, and she let out a wretched moan as every protest evaporated, seared to steam by the heat of her patterns.

After three months, her girls had learned her in ways no mortal was equipped to survive. They had poked, prodded, experimented, and teased until her body had revealed its secrets; Pressure. Hunger. Pain. Rumi had weaknesses, and Zoey and Mira were generous and cruel in equal measure.

So Zoey’s hands slid to Rumi’s hips to pull her firmer against her thigh, a clumsy but determined grind that had Rumi’s head swimming, and Zoey rolled her upper torso back to give Mira room to get her own kiss from their glowing, burning, deific girl.

Moaning into Mira’s mouth, Rumi’s arm wrapped around Mira’s waist and pulled her in hard, her other hand cupping her jaw as she teased Mira’s tongue with her own in the way she’d learned and mastered to make Mira whine and sigh.

Zoey loved being wanted. She was an intense, bright, craving thing. Every kiss, every touch, screamed desire, whether rough or gentle. She was so indulgent, basking and reveling in every moment, filling each second and breath with a lust and worship so potent it was sometimes hard to handle. When given the opportunity, it was like she couldn’t get enough of them.

But Mira? Mira wanted to be cherished. She wanted to be grounded and held close, enveloped in adoration, as if her girls were unable to contain their love for her and couldn’t help but hold her and give them all that they were.

Rumi was more than happy to drown both of them in their love of choice. So she ground on Zoey’s thigh like she was a devil and kissed Mira like an angel, sighing into Mira’s mouth and shivering when Zoey’s hands slid from her waist to her ornate belt buckle, undoing it with agile fingers.

The zipper quickly followed, and Zoey’s hand immediately slid down her tight shorts and into her underwear, impatient and eager, and Rumi’s eyes flew open and she looked to Zoey with a shocked tremble that broke into a cry as Zoey’s fingers slid teasingly across her slit.

Fuck, how was she so wet so quickly? It would have been embarrassing if she’d had the faculties to give a shit, instead she was only able to whine and scramble for Zoey’s shirt, pulling her close and panting against her neck.

Zoey giggled, smug and pleased, and she cooed sweetly into Rumi’s ear as she dragged the tips of her fingers across Rumi’s slick arousal. “Oh baby, if I’d known you got as worked up after shows as we did, I would have dragged you to bed years ago…”

Rumi simply whined again, her lips parting to bare the slight points of fangs as the patterns on her neck and face washed a vibrant blue and red, and she hurriedly went along with it when Mira pulled her jacket down and tossed it aside.

“Are you really surprised? She’s such a perfectionist that she probably gets off on shows going well.” chuckling with a husky tease, Mira ran her hands over Rumi’s exposed shoulders and biceps, her painted nails drawing harsh, painful lines down the thick patterns glimmering to life and coating them pink. She gave a shoulder a quick bite, smiling when Rumi shivered. “Lots of missed opportunities, huh?”

Growling low in her throat, Rumi’s head whipped from hiding in Zoey’s neck to instead fix Mira with an offended glare, the delicate curves along her jaw and up her cheeks pulsing and ebbing a bloody red that churned like the ocean in a storm.

“Smug tonight…”

Fangs and claws, slitted eyes and snarls, Rumi was a force of nature unlike anything on the planet. The world itself lived inside of her chest, loud and rough, and it howled inside her song.

You don’t make fun of the universe when it’s close enough to punish you for it.

Rumi pushed Zoey away hard enough she stumbled back a few steps, then lurched to grab Mira by the buckles and straps crossing over her torso from her own outfit, using them as handles to push and guide her back across the room until they crashed against the long counter and rattled the mirrors. Mira grunted at the bruising pain on the back of her thighs, but didn’t have time to glare, too busy being roughly kissed and Rumi’s clawed hands being everywhere.

Luckily, even in her dazed state, Rumi didn’t rip any of Mira’s clothes to get them off. Forever the reasonable leader, well aware of the effort put into making them, and the cost. So she retracted her claws enough to undo the buckles and unwrap the straps without scratching or damaging anything. With every new inch of skin bared and exposed, her teeth and tongue found their way to it, no bite breaking the skin but each having Mira gasp and groan.

The moment that Mira’s pants were free, Rumi shoved them down her legs without bothering to unlace her boots, and growled in approval when Mira managed to clumsily kick them free. With a grip on Mira’s waist, Rumi easily lifted her up and sat her on the counter, indifferent to the way it creaked under her weight. Mira’s hands scrambled onto the surface to balance herself, pinned back against the mirror by Rumi’s grip suddenly around her throat.

It was a rough, messy, uncoordinated kiss as Rumi threw herself at Mira hard enough the mirror threatened to crack. The grip around Mira’s throat was strong, her groan caught around Rumi’s tongue and tasting like every delicious meal Rumi had ever devoured, and Rumi reveled in Mira’s hips shifting as she pulled Mira’s underwear down.

Mira was by no means a passive participant - let nobody ever refer to her as a pillow princess - so she grabbed the hem of Rumi’s top and urgently pulled it up, letting out a groan when the kiss broke off just long enough for Rumi to raise her arms so her shirt could be added to the growing pile on the tiles.

Bared patterns, thick and winding and bleeding forty-thousand souls, radiated in their cobwebbed lines across Rumi’s ribs, stomach, and wrapping around her spine up to her shoulder blades. A thick ring of vibrant gold pulsed around one iris, the pupil slitted and serpentine as she stared at Mira with a smug, fang-baring smirk as Mira gaped at the infernal signatures tracing her body.

Over the past three months, Mira had grown to memorize every line. Every curve and swirl and jagged turn, the delicate knots crossing over the base of Rumi’s spine, the thick waves that wrapped around her thighs like ribbons and vines. Mira knew the way the patterns changed depending on the circumstances of their blooming; thick and orange for Rumi’s temper, thinner and blue for waking up from nightmares, and ornate and silver when one of them told her that they loved her and caught her by surprise with the confession.

But sex, lust, and hunger scribed jagged edges and needlepoint threads across Rumi’s skin, arterial and hot to the touch, blazing with dark reds, pinks, and cerulean blues. Mira knew them all, could read the language and conduct its tune.

So as she stared at Rumi’s pulsing markings, she shivered and swallowed, then fixed Rumi with a daring smirk.

This time the mirror behind Mira did crack from how hard she was slammed up against it from Rumi throwing herself onto her, partially extended claws scraping down Mira’s exposed ribs and thighs, and her tongue swallowing Mira’s gasps. Mira wrapped her arms around Rumi’s back and dug in her nails, claws in their own right, and shivered at Rumi’s appreciative hiss.

Greedy. Rumi pulled Mira’s bottom lip between her teeth, digging the point of one of her sharpened fangs into the plump flesh to kiss it with a sting, and slid her hand down between Mira’s thighs.

Zoey watched in glorious hunger and want as she wrapped herself around Rumi from behind, trailing the tip of her tongue up the side of her neck, and her hands roaming over Rumi’s stomach and chest, cupping her breasts and chuckling at the way Rumi trembled. Rumi was always sensitive, but it had been three months since the heat of the universe had been dragging blades down her nerves and leaving them raw to this extent...

Long enough ago that Zoey, having only experienced and enjoyed it the once, had forgotten just how Rumi became hers to touch. When she smiled, she bared teeth, and leant up on her feet to purr into Rumi’s ear.

“We can’t take too long, before we’re missed.” Zoey nipped Rumi’s earlobe, and giggled nastily at the hiss. “This is just to take the edge off. Because you must be so pent up. Poor baby…”

Rumi released Mira’s mouth with a growl, and turned her head so she could cut off Zoey's smug teasing, playing right into Zoey’s hands as she kissed Rumi back with an intensity that always left Rumi breathless.

The relentless, all-encompassing, crushing pressure of being in the dark void of the deep ocean. Zoey’s want and desire was so, so easy to drown in. Rumi could take in as many condemning breaths as she wished, and the wellspring would never run empty.

As she cravenly opened her lips for Zoey’s tongue, Rumi’s fingers went to Mira’s slit, and she didn’t waste any time before sliding in two fingers up to the second knuckle, delighting at the moan and rumble as Mira’s head fell back against the cracked mirror and her hips twitched.

Zoey was right, they didn’t have a great deal of time, and Rumi was a greedy, hungry creature. The last of her kind, and beautiful in her appetite. So she pulled her tongue from Zoey’s mouth with a pleased purr, brushing their noses together playfully as she turned, and pressed herself against Mira once more, molding their bodies together and tugging Mira closer to the edge of the counter. Skin slick with sweat and sparkling from glitter, neither cared, they both just needed, and Rumi fucked Mira in earnest as she latched her mouth onto Mira’s neck and bit down.

“Fuck! Rumi, careful, marks…we have-” Mira moaned, low and dark, as Rumi sucked a mark and swirled her tongue around the sensitive wound. “-oh fuck it.”

Rumi hummed in agreement and approval, and rewarded Mira tilting her head to bare her neck by pressing the pad of her thumb against Mira’s clit for the pressure, and twisting her wrist with a savage curl of her fingers to drive them against the exact spot to make Mira cry.

Relentless and merciless, greedy in the truest definition of the sin, Rumi didn’t even notice Zoey’s body heat vanishing from behind her as she left a trail of bites and lipstick stains up the side of Mira’s neck and to her jaw, the signature on a deed of ownership.

Nails scratched down Rumi’s back as Mira arched towards her with a gasp, her fingers hooking into the bands of Rumi’s pants and underwear in the one go and tugging them down until gravity took them the rest of the way, then her hand immediately scratching a harsh line across Rumi’s hip and inside her thigh, her fingers coating in the arousal.

Rumi growled against Mira’s neck, a shiver rippling through her body and carried by a wave of vibrant pink light across her markings, and her bite roughened violently with a moan when Mira slid her fingers inside in one harsh thrust.

Releasing the soft flesh of Mira’s neck with a drag of her teeth, Rumi kissed her again, letting Mira taste the slight tang from partially broken skin that never stood a chance against her fangs. Mira rose to the threat with a twitch of her hips to dare Rumi for more, cupping Rumi’s neck to hold them close together.

Each thrust from Rumi’s fingers was precise and harsh, forcing whimpers and gasps out of Mira with each push that rattled the mirror behind them and spread the cracks within the glass. They didn’t take the slow, intoxicating indulgence they normally would, there was no slow pampering and buildup, they didn’t have the time, so instead Mira released entirely to Rumi’s hunger and let Rumi have her, giving as good as she was getting.

Every moan and gasp was a gift of music that the world eagerly took from Mira, just as it always did, and the Honmoon was still so close to the surface from the concert that it was swirling and wrapping around them both in minutes. As if sensing the urgency, and encouraging it.

So when Rumi broke off the kiss so she could trail her lips across Mira’s cheek towards her ear, and began to sing to her in a low, intimate murmur, the Honmoon rippled in anticipation as Mira’s eyes rolled back and her body shimmered from the coaxing song as her being ached to fall into Rumi’s harmony.

Over the past few months, there had been some…experimentation, with Rumi’s demonic abilities. They weren’t sure just to what extent she could hypnotize and compel, but even if it wasn’t particularly powerful it still felt good.

Mira’s breaths came in faster and shallower pants as her hips rolled and spasmed, chasing Rumi’s fingers with desperate twitches as Rumi sang such sweetness into her song, coaxing it out, coaxing her to feel it.

The gentleness of the light as Mira’s chest began to glow, was completely out of place when caught between their bodies pressing and grinding against each other, slick as Rumi’s thumb pressed so precisely on Mira’s clit with every thrust that the rhythm of Mira’s own fingers within Rumi’s cunt stuttered as she grew closer.

Winding threads unstitched from Mira’s chest, pure blue and as pure as a soul could be, and threaded through Rumi’s patterns, tethering them together in a closeness that had them rest their foreheads together and bask as their souls fell into resonance and sang together.

Zoey watched from where she was hurriedly grabbing something out of her bag, which had been a bitch to hide from Rumi, and her eyes were wide and awestruck at the sight as a cascade of light pulsed and ebbed out of Rumi’s patterns and wrapped around Mira like living ropes and vines.

Beneath them, the Honmoon chimed and churned, the surface of an ocean at the mercy of a hurricane, as if water itself could be at the threat of drowning. It lapped and writhed around Zoey’s feet, reaching for her, and she smiled eagerly as she quickly pulled the rest of her own clothes off and stepped into the harness to tighten with practiced speed.

At the sound of Zoey’s hurried, confident footsteps coming back over, Mira slid her hand up from Rumi’s neck to wrap her braid around it with three twists, and anchored Rumi to her tightly with a sting that had Rumi hiss, while also pulling her fingers out of Rumi’s cunt and sliding up to cup one of her breasts. But that was as much conscious act that Mira was capable of as Rumi’s presence immediately overpowered her own inside their tethered harmony, and she gave in, allowing Rumi’s two souls to sing in the concert hall of her heart.

Sweat beaded on Rumi’s skin as she felt Mira growing closer, clenching around her fingers and moaning into her mouth in a constant pull. But then she jumped at the feel of one of Zoey’s hands suddenly on her hip again from behind, and she shuddered but didn’t fight it as Zoey adjusted her and pushed her to bend.

She barely had time to acknowledge the feel of Zoey rubbing the head of the toy along her slit, before Zoey was pushing in, and Rumi’s mind washed white as a wretched moan ripped out of her with every layer of voice she could sing with, and soaked straight into Mira with its full, intoxicating volume.

It rippled through Mira like scorching water, travelling the canals and rivulets coaxed open by presence and energy Rumi was pouring into her, and struck her body with the subtlety of a star’s ignition.

The Honmoon flashed white and sang loud as the pressure of the torrent pouring and intertwining into it heightened, the scent of plasma and scorched ozone, as Mira’s climax didn’t so much hit her as it bowed to her. Lost, she trembled and squirmed against Rumi’s body, holding her tight and close so that she had every inch of skin contact that she could get.

Which worked wonderfully in Zoey’s favor, as Mira effectively held Rumi up as Zoey pulled back, dragging the strap slowly out of Rumi’s soaked, eager cunt until just the tip was still inside, and then rolled her hips with a savage snap that had Rumi howl and both her hands scramble and scratch along the surface of the counter just to hold purchase.

God, Zoey wished they had the time for her to drag this out, but…needs must.

So she set a violent, powerful pace as she pressed against Rumi and fucked her, stretching her wide and deep with a controlled, precise pounding that had Rumi choking and gasping into Mira’s neck, her claws out and sharp as they dug into the marble. But Mira managed to hold her up and at the right angle for Zoey to simply fuck her, and the tears trickling down Rumi’s cheeks in a matter of minutes burned hot along her patterns in scorching pale blue lines.

Zoey pressed an open-mouthed kiss to Rumi’s shoulder blade, and smiled as she allowed her own song to hum and shift, seeking out the chorus of her lovers and finding purpose and home within the harmony.

As soon as her own soul was wrapped around Rumi from behind, just as Mira’s was from in front, Rumi went completely rigid as the circuit was finished and she became a true conduit. The love, acceptance, and pure happiness of forty-thousand souls poured out of her into Mira, and then across the world, but before there was any time for the fresh absence to hurt and haunt…Zoey was there, infinite and giving.

Rumi knew she wasn’t a god, but she wasn’t a demon either. Not a human, not a monster. Frankly, Rumi had no fucking idea who and what she was. But the past few months had helped her find the paving stones leading to an identity that was hers.

Words appeared across her soul and sanity as she walked the path; ‘singer’, ‘artist’, ‘idol’, ‘cuddler’, ‘perfectionist’, ‘friend’.

But there was also ‘something more’.

For now at least, only two words mattered as her orgasm smashed through her body and snapped her spine straight, pressed against Mira and her claws scratching into the marble counter. Zoey’s fingers digging roughly into her and leaving bruises were a ghostly signature as she rolled her hips and continued to fuck her, filling Rumi so completely that she never would have thought she’d had a vacuum in the entity of herself to begin with.

The harsh, wretched moan falling out of her slack mouth was caught but Mira’s lips, messy and unrefined but so utterly glorious. Worship and sacrament in equal measure as Mira pawed her breasts and held her steady for Zoey to just keep taking her.

Rumi was a lot of things. The list was growing as she found the words, day by day. But only two mattered right now.

‘Accepted’

…‘Theirs’

Fangs and all.

Unable to keep up her own body weight any longer, Rumi dropped, sliding pathetically off the counter and whimpering as the movement pulled the strap out of her with a lewd, slick sound, leaving her both empty yet complete.

The power, heart, and soul of the universe, drawn in and conducted by Rumi’s smile and song, trailed out of her chest with pale blue tendrils connecting to her lovers, and equilibrium was heaven as a sensation of pure, balanced serenity carried her down to the floor.

Mira caught her, peppering her face with soft, loving kisses as she continued to draw in the last of the energy that Rumi wasn’t able to contain, and she smiled up at Zoey as she felt Rumi settle into her hold.

The pulsing tendrils of light from Rumi had Zoey shivering at the still peculiar sensation as she quickly unbuckled the harness and placed it to the side, and she dropped down to the floor to bundle up her girls and join in the group cuddle.

They slumped, simply breathing and holding each other as the last echoes of the adrenaline rush faded, leaving behind a blissful lethargy. Rumi, nestled between them, felt the last tendrils of the Honmoon's energy settle, a gentle hum rather than a roaring fire. Her skin, still shimmering faintly, no longer felt on the verge of cracking, but rather soft and pleasantly warm under Mira's tender touches.

"You really needed that, huh? This really might have to be after every show day." Mira murmured, her voice a little hoarse, pressing a kiss to Rumi's temple.

A ripple of interested crimson went down Rumi’s body, glistening beneath the glass, but it immediately returned to a gentle, serene silver even as Rumi smirked against Mira’s skin and shrugged.

“Only whenever you guys are up for it.”

Zoey snorted, her arms tightening around both of them. "I dunno, it’s such a hassle.”

The response, and the kiss that Zoey pressed to her temple, had Rumi grin and settle deeper into the embrace, her eyes closed as she simply allowed herself to exist. So fresh from a performance, both of her girls were singing just from existing, their own connections to the Honmoon flexed and ready like a well-used muscle, and Rumi sighed as she basked in soft wind chimes and the low hums of a bass.

The room was quiet, the distant sounds of the stadium emptying out a dull thrum beyond the thick walls. The first show of their comeback tour, of a new era of the people that the three of them had decided they wanted to be, had been the sort of success that didn’t just change a career, but changed a life.

It was going to be a very long year ahead; the tour was booked to stretch on for months, taking them across the globe with sold out shows on almost every continent. They had a new album to continue writing, fresh brand ambassadorships to sort through, deals and contracts to negotiate now that Celine was relinquishing her responsibilities and accepting that the three of them were ready (and eager) for her to retire...

God it was going to be a long couple of years. They’d saved the world, now they got to do the legwork of dealing with it.

But, for the moment, none of that mattered. That old, cruel muscle of ingrained perfectionism in Rumi’s back refused to tense, soothed and held at bay by the feel of Mira’s shoulder shifting with her breathing, and the sound of Zoey’s quiet humming on her other side.

For Rumi’s entire life, every day had been defined by her desperation. Never slowing down, only ever giving herself a few hours in her room at a time to have doubts, only to stride back out and lead her girls to victory after victory. It had been a desperate, determined journey. Fear disguised as eagerness. Nightmares disguised as tenacity.

Not this time. Not anymore. Instead she just felt…

Ready.

Rumi smiled and pressed a soft kiss to Mira’s shoulder.

They could do this. She could do this. And not because she needed to, but…because she wanted to. She wanted what was coming, and what she was working towards now. It wasn’t salvation she was fighting for, it was happiness.

Across her skin, in fine and beautiful lines, her body glistened silver, and her smile softly widened as a content, eager purr rumbled in her chest.

But, for the short term, there was only one objective in mind that she cared about, and she groaned sorely. “Right. Hotel and bed?”

Mira hummed in the affirmative, equally as sleepy. “God yes. I’ll pack up, you go talk to Bobby about the broken mirror - which was very hot, by the way - and Zoey…”

The girl in question simply snored quietly, completely unresponsive and wrapped around Rumi, her sleeping head slumping on Rumi’s back, and when Rumi poked her cheek to try to rouse her she grumbled and pouted.

Rumi chuckled with a roll of her eyes, but managed to lift her head enough to give Mira a fond smile. “Okay. Agreed. You pack, I’ll go organize paying for…uhh, yes. The mirror. And Zoey here can stay on the floor.”

“Noooo. Not floor.” Zoey mumbled with a pathetic whine, and slowly opened a single eye. “Treat me with more love than that. I always knew you secretly hated me.”

Laughing, Rumi knew she was safe to shuffle out without Zoey whacking her head on the floor, and kicked up to her feet with far more energy than either of the others could muster. Her legs immediately turned to jelly beneath her, and she almost fell back down, but she caught herself on the counter until she steadied.

The smug grin Zoey gave her was pointedly ignored.

Mira smiled at them both as she grabbed their changes of clothes and laid them out, and quickly got dressed in her own civilian clothes before getting to work cleaning up and sorting the rest of the room. The outfits and other bits of equipment would be organized by Bobby and the style and preparation teams to be ready for the show they had tomorrow night, but they did like trying to leave things somewhat tidy to make their job easier.

Though this was certainly one of the most questionable states they’d left a green room in.

Rumi did not often indulge in the perks that only substantial fame and wealth could provide, but dear god right now she was so happy she could throw money at this particular problem to make sure nobody asked questions while it got fixed.

After getting dressed and hanging up her performance outfit to be cleaned and neatened up for tomorrow, Rumi grabbed her phone from her bag and went to the door to go and find Bobby, but paused and turned back for a moment.

She watched the way Mira was so careful and efficient as she sorted out their clothes, her sharp and practiced eyes roaming over the seams as each article earned a single, satisfied nod when no flaws were found.

The way that Zoey was still mostly asleep, her space buns messy and swaying on her feet, as she pulled a shirt over her head with a loud, uncouth yawn. The way that exhaustion had her body in a deadlock, but her eyes were bright and her smile was true when she caught Rumi looking and brightened just from the attention.

Rumi smiled, her hand resting on the doorknob, and blew them both a silent kiss before heading out and closing the door behind her.

Even though it had been a decent chunk of time since the show had ended, the backrooms and tunnels of the arena were still swarming with technicians and staff as they hurried with practiced, familiar precision and purpose. They all gave Rumi glances, and she returned each with smiles, as she spun her phone in her hand and shot Bobby a quick text to ask him where he was so she could borrow him for a minute.

Once he replied that he was on his way and would be there in a couple of minutes, just caught up talking with some of the crew, Rumi contented herself by leaning against a support beam and scrolling randomly on her phone, before blinking at herself.

Because there was nothing for her to do.

Nothing that she could think of, anyway. No planning, no training, no post-show review, none of the administrative work, nothing. And there wasn’t a single muscle, nerve, or whisper in her being that felt anything other than content at that. There was no broiling mass of energy and heat melting her insides, or screaming cascade in her head.

Instead, she simply relaxed, her muscles loose and her veins still humming with adrenaline, until she spied Bobby turn a far corner and she brightened up with a smile so happy that Bobby beamed back at the sight.

Behind her, the green room door opened, and Mira and Zoey were by Rumi’s side before Bobby reached her, Zoey’s hands lazily in the pockets of her jeans while Mira’s arms were crossed relaxedly.

Rumi turned her head side to side and smiled, her insides warming when Zoey grinned back and nudged her shoulder with her own, and Mira’s eyes sparkled with a swallowed, loving curve to the corners of her own smile.

Underneath Rumi’s jeans and jacket, her skin washed with light, warm and safe as an autumn campfire, and she let it shine out of her eyes as she let it make her brave, and wrapped an arm around Zoey’s waist while her other hand went to rest on Mira’s lower back.

Zoey’s smile was surprised and true to her core as she immediately shuffled closer, practically pressing herself to Rumi’s side. While Mira wasn’t quite as open, she did move a few inches closer as well, removing the distance between her and Rumi’s shoulders.

It was as blatant as they were willing to be in public, for now. That was a conversation and decision far down the line. If they ever didn’t feel like being selfish and keeping it just to themselves as theirs, and theirs alone. But for now at least, they were finally willing to be a little bit selfish. A little bit greedy.

Besides, they had plenty else to do.

“Hi girls! Great show!”

“Hi Bobby!”

The future could sure seem like a long, winding road. Streetlamps and gardens as far as the eye could see, and the pavement wide enough for three. Rumi never would have thought that a future could look so bright and colorful.

Especially once you realize that you’ll get to have it.