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Zoey watches the door close softly behind Mira as the taller woman makes her way out of Zoey's bedroom and towards the showers.
“Okay,” Zoey grabs her game controller and turns on the console, “what should I play, Ru?”
The older girl crawls under the blankets and shuffles towards Zoey. Wrapping an arm around her waist and pressing her body tight against the rapper’s.
“I dunno,” she mutters into Zoey's neck.
Zoey rolls her eyes with a grin and a slight shake of her head, “Fine, fortnite then.”
She boots up the game and shifts her body into a more comfortable position. Then Rumi nestles in further.
As Zoey plays a round of her game, she feels the steady rise and fall of the singers chest against her side and it helps keep her calm even during stressful moments of the match.
She finishes in 7th place and selects to play another round. She sets the controller in her lap and leans her head against Rumi’s, which is still tucked into her neck.
Zoey syncs their breathing and takes in as much of Rumi as she can. She loves the little moments like this. Where things are quiet and calm after a long day. Having her girls pressed against her even calms the constant noise in her brain.
Zoey looks down at where Rumi’s arm wraps around her waist. Her green hoodie sleeve has ridden up and revealed her bare arm, her iridescent patterns now on display. They glow softly and seems to flow like water, blending with her skin seamlessly. They almost always look like this now. They’re often slightly tinted with different colors depending on Rumi’s mood, but they always retain that soft faintness to them. Only jumping into the vibrant pink of the past during panic attacks or very high stress situations.
Watching the calm flow as the colors move across Rumi’s skin is almost hypnotic to Zoey. They're so incredibly pretty, she thinks she could stare at them forever.
Rumi shifts slightly, shaking out her arm to knock the sleeve back down around her wrist, breaking Zoey's trance-like state.
Zoey blinks and glances back up at the screen.
‘Internet Connection Lost. Return to lobby.’
“Mother —” Zoey groans and pulls out of Rumi’s grasp, standing and crossing the room to turn her console off and back on.
Losing her cuddle buddy, Rumi’s face plops into the pillow Zoey had been leaning against.
She lets out an annoyed huff, “Zoeyyyyyyy,” she wines, her voice muffled.
“Sorry, I don't know why it does that.” She quickly returns to the bed and sits comfortably again.
Rumi sits back and looks at her. Zoey can see she wants to ask something. Rumi’s mouth is slightly cocked to the side and she is chewing on the inside of her cheek.
Zoey raises her eyebrows expectantly.
Rumi blushes and looks down at her hands, fiddling with the sleeve of her sweatshirt, “um—” she hesitates, but Zoey doesn't interrupt. Rumi is incredibly adorable when she's bashful like this.
“Can I be the big spoon tonight?” Rumi meets Zoey's eyes, cheeks fully flushed.
Normally Rumi is in the middle when they sleep, but the past couple weeks they let her be the big spoon a few times because they wanted to try something new. Mira and Zoey ended up clinging to each other for warmth because an unconscious Rumi managed to steal all of the blankets while they slept.
“Absolutely not.”
“Whyyyyy?” She juts out her bottom lip into a slight pout and she widens her eyes trying to imitate Zoey’s signature puppy dog eyes.
Zoey doesn't see this however, she knew it was coming so she looked back to her game to avoid it., “You know why.”
Rumi flings herself onto Zoey, wrapping her arms around the maknae’s neck, pulling her close, “Zoeyyyyyyy.” She nuzzles into Zoey's arm, “I promise I won't hog the blankets this time.” Her voice is quiet, “Zoey, please…”
Rumi is clutching her pattern covered shoulders. Pink lines mark her face. Brown eyes welling with tears. Her Idol Awards outfit clings to her sweat dampened skin.
Zoey's heart skips and squeezes in her chest. She looks down at her empty hands, away from those desperate eyes. The glow of Mira’s weapon lights Zoey's pale hands in a soft pink and blue light.
“Zoey, please.” Rumi whimpers.
Zoey closes her eyes, heart breaking as she makes a decision.
Two shards of starlight appear in her hands and she slowly raises them towards Rumi.
Zoey watches the woman's face fall, tears scraping down her cheeks. She lets out a shaky breath and runs from them.
Zoey's shoulders and arms slacken and her shin-kal clatter to the floor as Zoey lands on her knees.
She's shaking.
She looks down at her hands. Empty again. Trembling. Covered in blood.
Blurring.
Zoey can't breathe.
“—oey?”
She feels heat on her shoulder and her chest. Her lungs rapidly expand and contract. Never seeming to suck in enough air.
There's a gentle pressure against her chest. Contrasting the rapid thunk thunk thunk coming from behind her ribs.
“Zoey?”
She hears her name, but it sounds far away.
“Breathe.”
She looks around, but she's alone backstage. Sitting on her folded legs which are pressed into the cold concrete. Chest heaving for air.
“Just breathe,” the voice says again.
The pressure on her chest shakes a little. It pulls her focus to the heat that seems to be being pumped into her at the spot.
“Breathe.”
She’s able to focus on her chest, the way it rises and falls. The way her lungs ache and her heart pounds.
“You’re okay. You're safe. Breathe.”
She does. She makes an effort to slow her still racing heart. Taking in a shaky half-breath which she exhales just as weakly.
“Good.” The gentle voice encourages.
She tries again. This time she thinks she can actually feel the air pump directly into her blood.
The world around her seems to shift.
She takes another breath and she's back in her bedroom, looking into brown eyes again.
The shift startles her, but the gentle concern in brown eyes steadies her.
“Hey there.” Rumi tilts her head slightly, eyes searching Zoey’s own, “You here with me?”
Zoey takes a deep breath. Those eyes are kind. Happy. No tears or bright pink patterns, no broken voice or frayed hair.
Just Rumi. Safe, happy Rumi with gentle flowing patterns, which are currently tinted a slight orange. Concern.
“Zoey?”
Her eyes snap back to Rumi’s having unknowingly drifted down to the patterns on the woman's neck.
“Yeah, sorry. I'm hear.” she's still breathing a bit frantically, but she tries to take deep steadying breaths. Almost unconsciously matching Rumi’s own breathing.
One of Rumi’s hands is on Zoey's shoulder, the other is pressed against her chest.
“No need to be sorry.” Rumi‘s voice is calm, “What happened? Where'd you go?”
Tears immediately spring back to Zoey's eyes as that image of Rumi begging her for help flashes through her mind.
She throws herself at Rumi, wrapping her in a desperate hug. She clings to the woman like the world will end if she ever lets her go.
“Rumi, I’m so sorry” she cries, burying her wet face into Rumi’s neck again. “I should never have raised my weapons at you, we never should have done that to you. I'm so sorry. You never have to forgive me because what I did was unforgivable and wrong and evil and I should never have done it I’m so sorry I'm sorry—”
Rumi had just been trying to sweet talk Zoey into letting her big spoon again. She really enjoyed it the couple times she’d done it, but both times she got an earful the following morning about stealing blankets. But what was she supposed to do about that? She was asleep. She had no control.
She loved the feeling of being wrapped around her girls. Pulling Zoey or Mira into her front while they slept. Feeling the steady movement of their breaths. Face pressed into their soft hair. She knew they were safe when they were wrapped in her embrace. Hopefully they knew that too.
She wanted to feel that again which meant she’d need to be persuasive. So she whined and did her best Zoey pout. She cuddled up and nuzzled into Zoey in the most cat-like way possible, when she felt the girl tense in her hold.
Immediately Rumi pulled back, looking up at her lovers face.
Her eyes stared forward, seeing something that wasn't there. Eyes glassy. Face pale. Breathing ragged.
Shit.
They were all familiar with each others trauma responses at this point. None of them had survived that night unscathed. They were all haunted by the things that happened, the things they did. All three have nightmares, panic attacks, and random new fears that seem to pop up out of nowhere.
They're all different in what they need during those too. For example: during flashbacks Rumi doesn't respond well to touch, but Zoey and Mira do.
Rumi fully sits in front of Zoey and places a hand on the girls shoulder. She presses her other palm against Zoey's sternum, willing heat into her hands.
“Breath, Zoey. Just breathe. You're safe.”
She repeats these phrases over and over until the flashback passes and Zoey is back in the present.
Now the smaller woman clings to Rumi like the half-demon might vanish into thin air at any moment.
Rumi wraps her up just as tightly.
“I forgive you.” Rumi feels tears of her own spring to her eyes.
They try to tell each other everything about the troubles they are experiencing. What their nightmares are about, where they go during flashbacks, any bad thoughts they are having, etc.
But Zoey was easily the worst at sharing. She always felt the need to keep it to herself. To not ‘burden’ them with her own stuff.
Mira and Rumi just assumed Zoey had bad memories about that moment too, since they both did, but it still hurt to hear the guilt and shame pour from Zoey's words.
Zoey hiccuped through her sob.
“I forgive you.” Rumi repeats.
It’s true. She does. She forgave them both the day it happened. She still has nightmares about it of course, but most of her nightmares are actually about what happened on stage, not what happened backstage.
She doesn't blame them for how they reacted. She knows she would have done the same, even if she hates to admit it.
Zoey continues to cling to her, crying harder at Rumi’s words. Rumi holds her tight in return, whispering those words over and over, being sure Zoey hears them.
After a minute or so, Zoey's cries fade into sniffles.
“I'm sorry,” she whispers behind Rumi’s back.
“Stop.” Rumi scolds, '“there’s nothing to be sorry for.”
“But—”
“Nothing.”
Zoey pulls out of the hug, “Bu— “
“Nope. Nothing.”
Zoey's lip trembles.
“You. Have. Nothing. To. Be. Sorry. For.”
More tears slip down Zoey's cheeks and Rumi takes her face in her hands, wiping away the tears with her thumbs.
She gives Zoey a loving smile then pulls her in and places a kiss on her forehead. Following it up with a peck on the tip of her nose. Then one on her lips.
“Absolutely nothing.”Rumi whispers, pressing their foreheads together.
Zoey lets out a breath she hadn't realized she was holding, “I love you.”
“I love you, too.”
Zoey presses forward, initiating another kiss. This one deeper and more desperate. Similar to the vice grip hug from earlier. Zoey slips her tongue into Rumi’s mouth for just a moment. Then Rumi pulls back, breaking the kiss.
They continue to breath each other's air, “so…can I big spoon?”
She ends up in the middle again, but Zoey flips over and scooches backwards into Rumi. Allowing their leader to be both a big and little spoon. Rumi immediately wraps her arm around the skaters waist and pulls them together. Much akin to the way Mira has Rumi pulled into her.
It's the perfect place, Rumi thinks: pressed between them.
Zoey knows her place is where ever her girls are, but having Rumi pressed into her back and a protective arm wrapped around her waist, its a feeling of safety she only ever experiences with Mira.
Like shes untouchable.
She wonders how she got so lucky.