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After showering, towel secured around her hair on top of her head and nothing but a sports bra and shorts on, Rumi walks from one side to the other of her room, opening and closing drawer after drawer.
Where the hell is it??
She’s checked the bathroom - like all cabinets - her closet, her dresser. It’s not anywhere. Not even on her purse this time.
With a grunt, she lets her head fall as she supports herself on her desk. This keeps happening to her. It’s nearly the third time this week, and it was only Thursday. She basically went through a whole package of hair ties this month alone.
She pulls the towel off her hair, hangs it on the bathroom, and brushes the mess of tangles that her hair has become, applying her favorite leave-in to finalize her hair routine - just so it won’t tangle too much and make it harder for her to braid it as soon as she finds her hair tie.
She quickly looks around her room again, checking every possible spot. Still nothing. Huffing, she makes her way to the living room, where the faded sound of the TV is coming from. She walks to the couch to see Mira star-fished in it, watching a game show and chuckling at something the host had said.
“Mira,” She calls as she approaches, the girl hums for her to continue without looking up. “Have you seen my hair tie?”
That seems to get her to move. She slowly begins sitting up, eyes still glued to the TV.
“Nope,” She says, pausing the TV and turning around. “I have no-” she stops mid-sentence.
Mira’s lips part softly. Fuck, she will never get used to seeing Rumi with her hair down. Her hair is still wet from the shower, falling heavily over her shoulders in a purple cascade that almost reaches her thighs. Some strands have stuck to her neck and cheeks and Mira groans when Rumi beats her to brushing them behind her ear.
With her hands on her hips, Rumi stares at her, waiting for a reply. Mira is still too awestruck to reply. So all she does is shake her head.
“Dammit,” Rumi sighs in frustration. “I keep losing them. It’s the gajillionth time this week.”
“That’s not a real number, Rumi,” Mira says, eyes still roaming over her.
“It is for the amount of time I’ve spent looking for this damn thing.” She huffs.
A soft smirk grows on Mira’s lips. She has to bite back a laugh. This has been happening quite often, not that she minds. She takes a second to appreciate how Rumi looks. Her black sports bra leaves no room for imagination, toned abs exposed and taken by iridescent patterns. Mira wants to trace them so bad it nearly kills her.
Her hair brushes against her shorts. Shorts that hug her hips just right, ending on her mid-thigh. God Rumi has legs for days. She can’t help but look at her from head to toe. She will never not be mesmerized by the sight of her.
Rumi clears her throat, an amused smile on her lips.
Right . Hair tie.
“ZOEEEY!” She calls, still a bit lightheaded. “Zo! Come to the living room!”
Quick footsteps sound in the hallway as Zoey makes her way to them, skipping all cute and bubbly until she notices Rumi. No . Not Rumi . But Rumi’s hair. That stops her in her tracks, and she gapes.
She walks slower now, eyeing the endless purple curls. It’s so shiny. It looks so soft. She looks at it as if she needs to touch it to live another second. And then she takes in Rumi. Her curves. Her hair. Her patterns. The hair. It takes her more than a few seconds to shake out of it and meet Rumi’s eyes.
Rumi, who merely stares at her - brow slightly raised, cheeks slightly pink.
“Why are you guys acting weird?” She asks, looking between the two of them.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Mira shrugs, momentarily recovered from the sight in front of her.
Zoey has quietly made her way to Rumi as if approaching a wild animal and trying to be noticed. She stops just behind her and as just about to touch her hair, Rumi turns toward her and she pulls her hands back so fast she isn’t sure how she kept her balance.
“Hehehe, what’s up?” She chuckles guiltily and tries for a cute enough smile to maybe distract Rumi from noticing what she was about to do.
“Have you seen my hair tie?” She asks, shoulder slumping.
“Nope.” Zoey shakes her head. “Which one do you mean?”
Mira bites her lip, holding back a laugh. Rumi shakes her head and her hair swishes softly behind her. Both Mira and Zoey follow the movement.
“I love your hair,” Zoey says dreamily.
“It’s so shiny!” Mira adds.
“Ooh!” Zoey perks up, throwing one arm up as if asking for permission to speak. “Can I braid it? Pleasepleasepleaseplease!!!!!”
“I don’t have a hair tieeee!” Rumi cries.
“You can get one in my room,” Mira offers. “Third drawer in the bathroom.”
“Ugh, fine,” Rumi groans, but her rose cheeks betray her annoyance.
As soon as the half-demon is out of earshot, Mira looks at an equally guilty and pleased Zoey. She lets out a burst of laughter. The youngest really deserves a pat on the back for her crazy dedication to hiding Rumi’s hair tie for over a month now.
Not that Mira is complaining. At all.
“Where’d you put it this time?” She asks, still laughing.
“Under Derpy’s pot on her balcony,” Zoey replies, awfully proud of herself.
“She is going to kill you if she finds out, Zo.” She slumps against the couch.
“I get to braid her hair, Mir. It would be a good reason to die. Plus,” The maknae has the audacity to smirk. “It was worth it, wasn’t it?”
Both of them fall into another fit of laughter.
“Yes, Zo.” Mira nods. “It was very worth it.”