Chapter Text
The bookstore smelt like overpriced coffee and old paper, which was to say, it smelt like success. Or something like it. There was a muffled noise of chatter outside where the crowd had accumulated for the book signing, preparing to be let in any minute now.
Mio wasn’t sure success was supposed to feel this strange—like wearing someone else’s clothes, a little too big and overbearing. Everything should’ve felt warm, comfortable. But the minute the lights had hit her face, Mio felt that warmth turn into something like a suffocating heat, the air too thick, attention too heavy. She felt her pulse pick up, and for a second, she couldn’t remember why she’d agreed to this shit in the first place.
Zoe, on the other hand, fit into it like she’d always belonged here. She stood at the front of the store, chatting animatedly with a couple of the event organisers, gesturing with her hands the way she always did when she was excited. She glowed under the spotlight. Waved to complete strangers outside like they were long-lost friends.
Even from across the store, Mio could hear the brightness in her voice, the easy enthusiasm that could make anyone feel better.
It wasn’t fair, really. Zoe made everything look effortless.
Mio shifted about in her chair, gripping her coffee cup tighter than necessary and taking occasional sips out of it. Funny how something so expensive can make you want to pay more money just to never have to drink it again, she thought. She glanced outside, observing all their fans who’d shelled out way too much for a signed copy of their book. Their book. The thought had barely registered in Mio’s mind in the midst of all the static. It was all happening so fast. The world outside their little bubble was moving at a pace Mio never quite adjusted to.
It was their first book signing. A huge milestone, apparently. Sure, Mio was glad their writing was resonating with people. She just wished she didn’t have to sit there with her annoyingly pricey coffee and a single sharp inhale away from spiralling.
“Okay, I think we’re ready!” Zoe’s voice broke through her thoughts, light and musical as she plopped down beside her.
“Nervous?”
Nervous was an understatement. If it wasn’t for Zoe’s relentless cheeriness and comforting presence, Mio would’ve concocted some nutty escape plan and been out the back door and down the street by now.
But Zoe didn’t have to know that.
Mio glanced at her. “For what? Hours of pretending I don’t hate small talk? Sounds right up my alley.”
Zoe grinned. “Always so dramatic. It’s cute.”
Mio practically crushed the coffee cup. Dangerous word, cute. Too small to mean anything, but too significant when Zoe said it with that particular softness. She took another-albeit reluctant-sip of coffee, swallowing it down with everything else she wanted to say but couldn’t.
“People are gonna love us.” Zoe continued positively, bumping her shoulder against Mio’s. “Well, I’m hoping they already do, but now they get to see us in the flesh. We’re icons!” She struck a pose, then nudged Mio again when she didn’t react.
Mio exhaled slowly. “Zoe.”
“Yes?”
“If you keep hyping this up, I’m gonna develop a spontaneous illness and be physically incapable of staying.”
Zoe gasped. “You wouldn’t dare.”
Mio didn’t respond. She stared into her now almost empty coffee cup like it held the answer to all of life’s problems. It was also probably going to be the answer for a bad stomach ache later, but she decided to ignore that for now.
Zoe leaned in, voice dropping. “Hey. For real. You okay?”
And there it was.
That little shift. The way Zoe’s voice got quieter when it was just the two of them, when she wasn’t wowing a crowd or mingling with friends. The way she inquired, genuinely, as if she actually expected Mio to give her a real answer.
Mio hated how much she wanted to.
She sighed, rubbing the back of her neck.
“Yeah… yeah. It’s just weird. All of it.”
Zoe studied her, head tilted, like she was piecing something together.
“I mean, we wrote a book,” Mio continued. “And now people act like we’re these literary geniuses, like we didn’t just bleed our trauma into a word processor and slap a cover on it.”
Zoe was quiet for a beat. “Yeah,” she admitted, her voice even softer. “Yeah, I get it.”
Something flickered in her expression- just for a second. A crack in the relentless optimism. And Mio felt it, that same heaviness pressing against her ribs. They had bled for this. Every page held echoes of what they’d been through. And now, strangers were picking it apart, analysing it, asking them to talk about it like it wasn’t them on those pages.
Fucking hell, Mio thought. Way to kick the signing off with some joy.
Zoe’s fingers tapped lightly against the table. “But, you know… I think it’s kind of beautiful too. In a way. People reading our story, immersing themselves in it. Caring.”
Mio huffed, but secretly happy she had rekindled their conversation into something less dire. “You would think that.”
Zoe gave her a look. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means you always find some poetic silver lining no matter what, little miss sunshine.” Mio glanced at her.
Zoe blinked. Then she smiled. “Maybe that’s why we work so well together, grumpy.”
Mio’s chest felt a little tight. The words were harmless, but they didn’t feel casual. At least not to her. Nothing did anymore.
She looked away, sighing in amusement. “Yeah, maybe.”
One of the event coordinators called out that they were ready to start. Zoe perked up instantly, the weight of the moment dissolving like it had never been there at all.
“Come on,” she said brightly, standing and offering her hand. “Let’s get this wagon rolling!”
“That isn’t a saying.” Mio complained before taking it. Zoe’s palm was warm against hers, grounding in a way she didn’t want to name.
She let herself hold on for a second too long. And if Zoe noticed, she didn’t say a word.
*
Mio had always been good at keeping her head down, at moving through the world without drawing much attention to herself. She preferred it that way. One thing she hated more than going to the dentist was crowds. The noise, the eyes, the expectation. So sitting in front of a line of eager strangers waiting to speak to her, forced to smile and nod and engage, felt like some cruel joke. Trying to survive being trapped in her own subconscious? Fine. Sitting at a table for hours straining a smile and scribbling her name repeatedly? She’d rather fart-fly as a pig.
These were definitely original thoughts.
Zoe, of course, was in her element. She was all easy laughs and bright energy, chatting with fans like they were old friends. “Oh my gosh, I love your earrings,” she told someone. “That was your favourite chapter? Mine too!” She took her time with each person, making them feel seen.
Mio didn’t have it in her. Not in the same way. She kept her eyes down, signed what needed signing, gave the absolute bare minimum of smiles, and wanted to nap.
Often, Zoe would glance at her, a little amused, like she could tell how much Mio’s desire to flee increased with every passing moment. And every so often, Mio would glance back at her, a little desperate, because Zoe had always been the only person who could make her want to stay.
Once the first flock of fans had been and gone, their manager came up to them, bearing the beautiful news that they had a five minute break before the rest of the crowd swarmed. Music to Mio’s ears. Five minutes. That was all she needed to remember her own name, to breathe. A quick reprieve from the barrage of signatures and eager smiles. Zoe, on the other hand, seemed positively energised. She flashed a wide grin at the last young girl who had approached the table holding not one but four copies of ‘Split Fiction’, eyes sparkling in excitement.
“You’re… sure you want me to sign all of them?” Zoe asked with a playful wink, making the girl nod so eagerly she looked like she might explode. Or wee herself, depending on how young she really was.
Mio sat back and watched as Zoe worked her effortless charm. She was built for moments like these. The way she made every person feel like they were the most important in the room. It seemed almost impossible. Once the girl had skipped away, a satisfied bounce in her step, Zoe turned to face Mio.
”How many do you need?” Mio muttered, her voice low.
Zoe’s smile widened as she leaned back in her chair. “Split fourction.” She snorted to herself, amused by her own terrible joke.
Mio slowly turned towards her, staring in disbelief.
”I know you did not just say that. Tell me you did not just say that.”
“It wasn’t that bad.” Zoe protested earnestly.
Mio raised an eyebrow.
”Being a published writer has changed you.” She declared, deciding she can no longer look at Zoe due to complete embarrassment.
“I stand by my joke. It’s not my fault you aren’t as enlightened as I am.”
”I think I’m better off unenlightened, thanks.”
The next half of the signing flew by in a blur, surprisingly. It was getting late and people wanted to get home, so things were dying down, much to Mio’s delight.
By the time the signing ended, Mio felt like she’d ran several marathons. She stretched out her hands as they packed up, flexing the ache out of her knuckles. “I think I’ve just lost five years of my life.”
“Oh, come off it!” Zoe teased. She grabbed her coat, flashing Mio a grin. “Ever the rain cloud. You did great.”
”You have a warped definition of great.”
Zoe grinned. “Still counts. Own it, babe.”
Babe. Huh.
Zoe had said it passively before, without much thought. But today, after Mio had spent hours pretending she wasn’t watching Zoe’s every move, it landed differently. Made it impossible to swallow.
Mio willed herself to sound normal. “If that’s what greatness feels like, I need a nap. Or a lobotomy. Either works.”
Zoe nudged her with her elbow, then put on her coat and scarf. After a short talk with the event organisers, they stepped outside, into the sharp chill of the February evening. “See, I knew you’d have fun.”
“Mmm. Best time of my life.” Mio replied, her voice a little gruffer than intended.
They fell into step together, in sync as the sounds of the city buzzed around them. Mio exhaled, watching her breath fog in the air. The crispness of the evening was a welcoming contrast to the suffocating atmosphere of the bookstore. It was the escape Mio had spent the afternoon longing for, but even out here, the sinking feeling in her gut hadn’t died completely. “Where to, anyway?” She inquired.
“Home,” Zoe said, her scarf falling loosely around her neck. Mio’s fingers twitched, itching to adjust it for her like she’d done before the event started. She pushed the thought away, suddenly aware of how close they were, how easily she could reach over and—
”Mio?” Zoe yanked her from her thoughts.
”Mm?”
”I asked if you wanted to get food.”
”Oh.” Mio thought about it. Sitting across from Zoe in some dimly lit restaurant, the warm lights highlighting her features, her smile sweet and comforting… okay, no, she declared in her head. That isn’t happening.
Not with the way Mio’s heart seemed to set on fire every time Zoe looked at her. Not when every word, every smile, felt like something more than it should’ve been. It was too easy to get lost. Lost in her.
Not tonight.
“Nah. Too many people.” She concluded.
Zoe didn’t press her. She just hummed, her voice light and teasing. “What, you haven’t had enough social interaction for one night? Surprising.”
Mio shot her a look. “Do you like torturing me?”
Zoe smirked. “A little bit.”
The walk back to their shared apartment had quietened. The chatter and playful banter that typically filled the silence between them had subdued. Zoe was always so bubbly, so lively to be around, and Mio, well… she had enough sarcasm for the both of them. She’d spent the day hiding behind well-constructed walls, that occasionally were knocked down for Zoe. The only person Mio trusted in the world to open up to.
I want you so bad it hurts to breathe.
That’s a new thought. What the fuck? Sirens blare inside Mio’s head. It’s nothing she doesn’t know already, but she can’t seem to push this one away. Not anymore. She swallowed, trying to focus on crossing the road and not getting run over rather than her overwhelming feelings for a certain someone.
Zoe’s voice once again interrupted her thoughts. “It’s okay, you know, if you don’t feel like talking. You don’t always have to be the tough one.”
Mio blinked, surprised by the sheer kindness in Zoe’s voice. Was this what it felt like to be cared about? To the point where it makes you feel vulnerable? It scared her, like she was being seen in a way she couldn’t see herself.
“I’m fine.” Mio said, a little too sharply. She winced inwardly. Stop being such a fucking asshole, she told herself. But she couldn’t seem to shake that uncomfortable feeling. Concern for her. Zoe didn’t speak immediately, but Mio caught a glimpse of her face—a flash of something unreadable in her eyes. She bit her lip, clearly considering her next words. “I’m not throwing you a pity party, Mio. I just want you to know I’m not going anywhere. I mean it.” Zoe said it like it was a fact, more than a promise. Like they had all the time in the world to figure things out.
Mio wasn’t sure how to live with the idea of having someone so… unwavering. Steady. A calm wave in the midst of a stormy ocean.
but she’d do it. For Zoe.
They continued to walk in silence, Zoe pulling out a key as they approached their apartment door. Mio inhaled sharply.
”Zoe?”
”Yeah?”
”Thank you. For… what you said earlier. I should’ve said it then.” Mio’s voice was low and gentle.
Zoe smiled at her warmly as she unlocked the door. “Of course, Mio.”
Mio knew a simple ‘thank you’ couldn’t solve everything. But sometimes the smallest of words speak the loudest, and for the two of them, mean the most.
Zoe touched her shoulder as she walked past her into the kitchen, and yeah, Mio was screwed.