Chapter Text
The smell of lemon tea greets her as she approaches Mira sitting at the kitchen island, a recording of their dance practice playing on her phone until she stops it to replay the last few seconds.
A second steaming mug waits for Zoey in the adjacent spot but she opts for standing next to Mira. “Still going over the choreo?”
“Yeah, something just feels off with this section.” Even Mira’s flat tone can’t hide the frustration.
“Can you replay it for me?”
On the screen the three of them move in perfect sync. A testament to how familiar they are with keeping track of each other’s movements, even if they’ve only learned it two days ago.
“Hmm, it’s a smooth transition and we’re hitting it on the beat. It’s technically spotless, really.” Mira nods along to Zoey’s observations but a slight purse of the lips gives away her growing conflict.
The problem must be elsewhere then. Not on the moves themselves, but maybe on what they convey, or fail to. While Zoey tends to pour all her feelings onto overfilled pages, Mira prefers to bare them through rhythm and motion, a physical manifestation of what she can’t word.
“Is there a specific feeling you want to evoke?”
“I’m not sure, I’ll book a few more hours at the studio to rework it.” Mira answers, still focused on the video playing.
During their early days, Zoey was terrified when met with cold and stoic Mira, afraid that she would never be able to reach her, that she would be too cringe and high energy for her. At other times, Zoey grew so angry at Mira’s apathy, at how little she seemed to care about their training, about their duty, about them. How she seemed to fight any of their attempts at getting closer, as if rebellion was the only emotional answer she knew. Oh, if only Zoey knew then, that behind that imposing wall fluttered a soft yearning heart.
She was fooled by that impassive exterior, perhaps reminded too much of the bullies from high school to even want to look beyond and hold nothing but contempt against it. That is, until she started to notice how Mira would always make sure that they ate a good meal after an intense practice session; how she would choose to watch a movie that Zoey might have rambled on too long about loving; how her sarcasm and teasing remarks were always delivered with a barely there smile that was all warmth.
Mira cared quietly, but that did not make it any less real.
“It’s okay, we have plenty of time before we plan to release it. Make it feel right.” Zoey leans down and places a small kiss to Mira’s temple, who finally looks back at Zoey in surprise.
Mira seems to fumble for a moment, the blooming red reaching the tips of her ears, but eventually she says “Thanks, Zo.”
Really, that’s all it takes?
Zoey smiles out of overwhelming affection at Mira’s reaction, but instead of squeezing those perfectly sculpted cheeks, like she is dying to do, she brings Mira fully into her arms. For once, taking advantage of her taller position and cradling Mira to her shoulder.
It’s impressive, how small Mira feels as she curls herself tighter into Zoey, hands grasping at her back, with an almost desperate taint to it. Mira, who always takes care of them, who gives so much of herself and who somehow always seems so surprised when they keep on choosing her. As if, the only reason why anyone would possibly want her, is if sheis of use to them.
That stray thought leaves an uncomfortable weight on Zoey’s chest, so she slowly starts threading her fingers through Mira’s soft hair. A move meant to comfort Mira, and yet in this case, having a bigger impact in soothing Zoey herself.
Because she can’t help but to also feel at blame for this.
They have done a terrible job at discussing it.
Kisses stolen in passing, disguised as mundane and never addressed; excited after an arena performance; proud at an award win; unguarded as a goodnight wish... Fools, the three of them.
Complete and utter fools.
And Zoey is no better. A coward advocating for wrong timing, wanting to glue the cracks back together and instead only staring at the pieces.
With a hand to Mira’s delicate jaw, Zoey tilts her head up, sees those brown hopeful eyes lowering to her own lips and doesn’t even think about stopping.
What’s one more stolen kiss in this perpetual game of fools?
Zoey leans down and kisses Mira deeply, unable to keep the greed at bay. Zoey’s impulses always brought her the biggest joys, for her to stop following them now. And she is rewarded with Mira parting her lips, hand anchored to Zoey’s wrist, keeping her close, as she takes all that Zoey is willing to give.
When they part, Mira still follows her for another quick peck and Zoey feels electric, jitters racing full laps, no checkered flag on sight.
She needs to move, to shake it off.
Now.
“You know, I think we should dance. Yep, that would definitely help. And I know just the song!” Zoey grabs her phone from her back pocket and starts playing a song for them.
At that, Mira lets out a loud exasperated laugh. “I thought you were trying to keep me from thinking about dancing?”Right eyebrow raising pointedly.
“I am.. but this is Salsa! It’s so much more than dancing!” Zoey, already playfully moving her feet along to the rhythm, grabs Mira’s hand and pulls her along to the middle of the kitchen. And Mira just goes along with it, of course, because she always does, whenever it comes to Zoey and her spontaneous requests. A unique privilege that she loves to abuse.
“Of course, I see my mistake.” Mira says with a teasing lilt and while holding on to Zoey’s hand does a full turn matching her steps, showing off her swaying hips, until she is effortlessly moving to lead Zoey with a sure hand at her back.
It’s unfair how smooth Mira’s steps are, how easily she moves Zoey around the limited space of the kitchen, how tightly she weaves them together, only to send Zoey away in a dizzying spin.
Once, twice.
Before advancing again into Zoey, bringing them ever closer, a shared breath, hips flush. A teasing push and pull that only leaves Zoey wanting more.
Mira in her natural element is a menace, a deadly predator on a hunt. And Zoey is intoxicated by those sharp eyes, following her every move; that confident smirk that has been growing the longer they dance; that burning touch wherever their bodies meet. A willing victim to Mira’s charms.
Whether this has been Zoey’s best, or worst idea ever, is still yet to be decided. But of one thing she is sure. She does not regret it one bit.
In the past, Zoey has struggled with giving her love freely. Afraid of being too greedy, too clingy, in a way that would drive people away. So she tried to be more demure, tried to keep everyone happy.
The worst part about holding herself back, was that it worked.
People liked her, friends stayed. However, it just never felt right. Trying to contain her excitement all the time was exhausting, stopping herself from being silly and sharing everything she was obsessed with was demoralizing. She didn’t like that version of herself.
It’s not been easy, to quiet old fears, but she has been trying with Mira and Rumi.
Specially since, everything that she gives they take, and take, and keep reaching out to take more.
And Zoey?
She couldn’t feel more free.
She just hopes that soon she can be brave enough to give them what they all need.