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Her skin is a canvas. Painted with the oil pastel from the underworld. Rumi hates the crooked lines that wrapped her entire arms like thorny vines. It pricks her, itching every inch it could reach. These purple marks branded onto her as shame she has been carrying for years.
For so long she's been longing. For eyes that would lock onto hers without fear and hesitation. For a touch that would envelop her without trembling. One that doesn't feel like a shroud of grimace. She wanted to be seen, but the lone prospect of itself blocked the path to her lungs. Rumi recognizes the feelings as fear. Once she is seen, all of her, there would be no more gentleness.
When she first laid eyes on those striking pink strands, Rumi got reminded of her own natural purple hair. Tightly braided, pulling the skin of her face edges, felt like a reminder to maintain her expression. She wondered if that pink was natural. It looks natural on her even if it's not. It looks perfect. If it wasn't for the way the parted bangs softly framed the girl's face, Rumi would've been got intimidated by those sharp eyes. Every feature of the girl in front of her screams riotous. She expected her to throw nasty remarks. She expected rough voice and violence, only to be greeted by a hesitant gaze and awkward, yet polite nod. Rumi's shoulder loosened; she doesn't even remember when she tensed but she remembered the way the pink haired girl said her name.
"I'm Mira."
It was the lowest pitch Rumi ever heard from a girl. It doesn't carry the crudity Rumi expected. It carries a wave, one that runs like a wild horse on the sea, only to kiss your toes gently. Rumi smiles and introduces herself, "Hi. I'm Rumi."
If there is one thing she can get about Mira for those first weeks, is that the latter is surprisingly quiet. Too quiet. Instead of her voice, Rumi's days are filled by either only the stomping of a steady repetitive rhythm or the screech of soles hitting the floor of the dance practice room.
Celine introduced her as a promising and possible member for the group, a dancer, and as Rumi watches her swaying, limbs moving with sharp precision, cutting through air, and landing her feet perfectly, she knows Mira is more than that. She owns the room, soon she will own the stage. Rumi couldn't wait to share it with her.
There was always something tugging the little corner of her heart whenever Mira reached out to her. Mira tried when Rumi got a little too self-conscious. They needed to bond, they would fight and sing together. Rumi is quiet, but Mira is quieter. So, when Rumi sat near on the stairs, hugging her own knees after she talked with Celine, she let Mira sit beside her, no touching, not even a graze, no words, no contact at all, just her, putting a bottle of banana milk between them on the floor. A silent offering. It was then Rumi knows, Mira observes, and she is good at it. It was the first time Rumi smiles after a talk with Celine.
Silence becomes the roots of their bond. Footsteps become a comfortable rhythm, even the screech between the soles and the floor makes Rumi smile. She loves watching Mira dance. She is a manifested talent fueled with passion, Mira burns like fire, but fire also offers warmth during cold days, Rumi wasn't scared to be scalded. Months passed and Rumi knew Mira would stay. Celine seemed to take a liking to her. Rumi starts talking a bit more with Mira. Close, but not close enough. Talk, but not talk enough. Mira never talked about anything except practice routines, so Rumi did the same thing.
Habits can change a connection, and for Rumi and Mira, the constant company grows into a connection they couldn't explain that the word ‘friend’ is not enough to describe what Rumi felt, a ‘family’ is closer and Rumi would take that. Their relationship made them safe to crumble in each other's presence without the fear of the other walking away. How Rumi can finally relax around Mira. How she can laugh and sulk freely. How she can throw unfunny jokes that made Mira scoffed but laughed anyway. It almost made Rumi want to show Mira of herself. All of her. That, if she hadn't remembered everything Celine has said.
Whenever Mira hovers behind her, hands touching her showing skin by her forearms, Rumi holds her breath. She feels strange about how much she enjoyed Mira correcting her stance. She feels almost guilty letting Mira lean on her side, pressing her body on Rumi’s arm whenever Rumi's showing her latest lyrics. She feels tranced whenever Mira touches the keyboard in the practice room skillfully, accompanying Rumi with her vocal training. Rumi doesn't feel annoyed even when Mira starts to call her "nepo baby", she loves it. It shows that Mira has grown comfortable with her as so is she with Mira. So, Rumi just let out a worthy remark that made Mira gasped and tackled her onto the dance floor, accusing her that Rumi needed to practice her breathing skill for her singing as she tickled her mercilessly. They laughed and laughed, forgetting all the burden they were both carrying, only to be smothered in each other's presence and voice.
It was late, the sun had long set, the world had gotten quiet, the only light that accompanied Rumi was the brilliant white light of the practice room. The pencil in her hands tapped againts a page in a notebook that was filled with dozens of long lines. Rumi sighs, she puts her head on her hand. Eyebrows furrowed. The lyrics she wrote conveyed everything she wanted to express. It was the diction, her phrasing, it felt too personal, too revealing. She needs a metaphor. And her mind can't afford to. Not when she just practiced her singing and dancing for a solid 5 hours without a break.
"I can't get you out of my mind..." Rumi mumbled the lyrics she's unsatisfied with.
The door clicked open and Rumi flinched. But a smile grows on her face when she sees Mira standing at the doorway with one of her eyebrows lifted as if asking why Rumi is still in the practice room.
"Working hard, nepo baby?"
Rumi scoffed. She scooted despite there's a whole practice room's floor for Mira to sit on. She just wants Mira to sit beside her. So, Mira did. Rumi lets her take a peek at her notebook.
"Mmm, interesting. Who are you talking about?" Mira smirks as she nudges Rumi's shoulder with her own.
Rumi laughs awkwardly, she tugs her hair behind her ear, "Can I just write without anyone specific in mind?"
Mira hums, "True, but this feels... oddly specific."
Rumi shrugs, "Just inspired by some drama I watched last week... say Mira, can you help me with this one?" Rumi pointed at the line she had been thinking of.
Mira bends down even lower, Rumi faced with Mira's pink hair. She could smell Mira's shampoo and her heart suddenly beat a tempo faster. Faster than the song she's been writing. But Rumi shrugged away the feelings and she playfully massages Mira's scalp, "Mira~ wear your glasses if you can't read it properly."
If Mira went rigid under Rumi's touch, Rumi didn't notice it. Mira suddenly straightens up and Rumi feels like she's missing the proximity. She hears Mira clears her throat.
"It broke when I accidentally dropped it when I was dancing," Mira mumbled.
Rumi laughs, not mocking, just amused, "Then let's get you a new one. Want to get boba tea along the way tomorrow?"
Mira stares at her, expression unreadable, Rumi swore she saw a blush, redness on Mira's cheeks, but it might be a selfish wish. Then she sees Mira's usual smirk.
"Are you asking me out on a date, Rumi?"
It's Rumi's turn to blush. Her hands indeliberately crumpled her notebook. A squeal and Rumi regretted that, "D-date!? Whatー"
Mira laughs, freely and loud, the kind of laugh that makes Rumi smile out of fondness. But this time she pouts when Mira is still laughing after long seconds.
"I was just joking. God, look at your face. You never had a date before?"
Rumi slapped Mira's shoulder with her notebook, face is now red from embarrassment and annoyance, "None of your business! So, do you want to see again or not?"
Mira chuckles, "You got me at boba tea and the chance for me to see again. Pick you up at 9?"
Rumi laughed and scoffed, "We literally live in the same building, Mira."
Mira shrugs, she lets out her trademark smirk, "I'm trying to be decent."
Rumi smiles as she leans on Mira casually, showing her notebook again, and she feels Mira's arm hanging around her shoulder, "Deal sealed then. Now help me with that line. Give me a metaphor, something that feels... more subtle."
Mira hums, "I can't get you out of my mind... it sounds good already though. It's honest. Totally my style."
Rumi chuckles, "Oh, behold the honest and bold Mira."
Mira turned her head at Rumi and scoffed, "Don't test me if you want my help, nepo baby."
Rumi lets out a satisfied hum, she turns her head to counter Mira, instead she is greeted by Mira's face, inches away from hers. Rumi suddenly lost all her words. She froze under Mira's sharp eyes. Only that those eyes widen like hers. Rumi's words stuck in her throat, her finger twitched when she caught Mira's gaze lowered, was it to her lips?
Suddenly Mira stood up abruptly, hands struggling to unhook her cap from her belt loop, then put it on after she managed to. Rumi can look up, still dazed, and hears Mira clears her throat. The latter looked away, a hand on her nape.
"Iー I've thought of something. What about... 'my mind is a stage you dance upon'. Uh... and I gotta go, I forgot I have to... well, good luck. See you tomorrow then." And just like that, Mira fled with long strides to the practice room’s door.
Rumi was left alone. Then she looks at her notebook, crosses the line she was unsatisfied with, and writes 'my mind is a stage you dance upon'. She reads it for a few more times and buries her face in her palms. The line reminds her of Mira. It feels as if she is talking about Mira. And Rumi groans in embarrassment by how close that line is to her heart. This shall never see the light of the day, let alone be in their future album. It feels weird.
Strange.
♡
Rumi opened her eyes slowly. The room is still dark, but she can see the light seeping in through the curtains. She sits up slowly on the bed and let her head carefully put her dreams in order. She dreamt about Mira. For once, since the Idol Awards, Rumi doesn’t have nightmare. It was a dream that feels nostalgic, tracing back to her past, not one where she had a notion that she was a mistake, but one where she might feel her hope bloomed by the time she reached 16, one where she almost overlooks the rest of the world and let herself live with so much laughter and smiles. Rumi woke up with warmth seeping on her cheeks. The dream she had ensnared her in trance. Fleeting memories that visited her as a dream and Rumi wished she didn’t wake up so quickly even though she clearly remembers the continuation of what happened after that day.
There has always been an unbearable shame under Rumi's skin. It crawls through her patterns, from her limbs, to her neck, and it strangles her alive. It fed on Celine's words that left her begging for acceptance, it fed on her belief that felt fallacious.
There had always been.
But not anymore.
The girls might have reacted badly, but Rumi didn't blame them. She basically betrayed them by hiding all of these. By trusting Jinu and letting herself be consumed by false hope. They couldn't understand when the truth collided so much with lies Rumi had said. Rumi regretted it. And so does Mira and Zoey. It wasn't perfect. It was an apology only the three of them understand, but it was enough for Rumi. Because inside the hot bath house where the talk happened, Rumi felt accepted for the first time. It was only then she realized that the look she got from them wasn't from the fact she is part-demon, it was from the lies she had said to them.
That was acceptance. Her first step to understand who she is. The first step to get rid of her shame. She took the second step with Mira's words. When her touch traced her patterns gently and when Mira's voice filled her ears, she believed Mira. She believes that she is indeed still beautiful. Part-demon or not. It never changes who she is.
It's not like Rumi was swooning over Mira's words. She did not.
"You're glowing, Rumi. I think we can save on the electricity bill!" Zoey stated her thoughts excitedly as she did a single clap.
Rumi's finger twitched. Her spoonful of breakfast stopped midair. Her eyes caught a glimpse of her bare arms and she gave Zoey an awkward smile. She clears her throat. She can’t tell anyone she has been thinking about a certain pink hair ever since she woke up this morning. Hell, even in her sleep, Mira haunts her. She just can’t.
"Can't control it yet, it just happens," Rumi replied. She timidly steals a glance on Mira. The latter is currently sipping on her coffee. Expression unreadable. Just the usual Mira. It made Rumi a little bit nervous.
It happened when Mira touched her oh so gently. It happens whenever she thinks about what Mira said to her. Breathtaking. One compliment and Rumi stumbled all over. It wasn't the first time Mira complimented her. She always took compliments well. Perhaps it was the vulnerability. Perhaps it was because Mira finally actually saw her. Everything that Rumi is, and Mira still thinks she is breathtaking. The parts that Rumi thought was shame branded on her skin? Mira cradled them gently.
It was gratitude and she's filled with happiness. Rumi thought. Of course, her patterns glow to her overflowing emotions, which is happiness.
"So, why are you glowing?" Zoey asked after she swallowed her jam spread toast.
Rumi thought for a while, "I'm just feeling really happy with you guys right now."
Mira smiles and Rumi catches it—hard—that she almost stumbles back from the counter’s stool. There again, the smile.
"That's sweet," Mira said with a small smirk.
Zoey nods with tears brimming in her eyes, "I'm so happy with you guys, too."
Rumi lets out a chuckle. It wasn't a lie. She is happy being with the girls. It wasn't a lie. Maybe a half lie. Some things better left unsaid when she is uncertain herself.
♡
"Hi Bobby!"
The greeted manager entered their penthouse with a spirited stride and a bright smile. He tugged his blazer and stood confidently right in front of the girls that are currently sprawled on the couch.
"My girls! I was so excited when you called me that you're ready for a comeback!" He stated excitedly, "Have a theme in mind?"
"Self-empowerment," Mira said. She smirks lazily at Bobby. Head comfortably laid on Rumi's thighs.
"Fun, comfortable, and confident!" Zoey gave a thumbs up that looked like a thumbs down instead since she's currently laying upside-down, head-on floor, while her legs are resting on Mira's stomach on the couch.
"Loving self, comfortable in our own skin," Rumi speaks slowly as her smile grew. She looked down at Mira who's currently looking really proud of her. As if she's saying, 'there you go.'
For a moment, like a dimmed flash, Rumi feels her patterns glow. Her heart raced but it stumbled after Bobby's echoed clap around the penthouse.
"Sounds amazing already! I'll prepare everything, contacting the PD, such, and such, whileー"
"We prepare the songs. Got it!" The girls said in unison.
“That’s my girls!” Bobby beamed like a stage spotlight. He pivoted excitedly and left after bidding the girls goodbye and making a phone call on his way out. When Bobby leaves, the penthouse is filled with the usual silence. A comfortable one that lingers with the hum of traffic down the crowded road.
“Say, will this be an EP or a full album?” Zoey asked lazily as she read her notebook upside down. Rumi hums as she’s thinking, she got reminded of the girls they met last week. Such young fans, full of enthusiasm and fervor. Rumi wants to give her all.
“I’m thinking of a full album, it’s been 2 years since we released one… you guys okay with that?” Rumi sounded hesitant. Not to herself but to her groupmates. After everything that has happened, she wonders if a full album would be too much.
Before she could hear Zoey, Mira shifted, she sat up. The latter carefully moves Zoey’s legs that earned her a dissatisfied groan from the youngest, then Rumi heard Mira’s voice. Low, but not aggressive and cold. Careful and approaching, “You sure, Rumi, that won’t be too much for you after… everything? We could just do another EP, you know.”
Rumi, whose glance has been following Mira, chuckles as her thoughts were stolen from her. She lowered her gaze to look at her dormant iridescent pattern. Her mark. Before Mira reached out to her, her pattern felt agonizingly hovering on her skin. It was unpleasant as if a swarm of tiny bugs crawled on it. Sometimes it burned, sometimes it was cold and heavy like raw metals. However, Mira’s touch planted her marks into her skin. Lifting almost all the doubts in her heart. She was born with the mark, but it was Mira and Zoey who made it truly hers. Branded it not as a shame anymore but a reminder of her true self. Which is still Rumi. She is still Rumi, marked or not. They made sure of that.
With a firm nod, Rumi smiles gently at Mira, “I’m sure. I’ll manage a full album. I have both of you guys to use, no?” a small teasing remark. It has been long since she can freely tease her girls like that. Cocky grin plastered on her face now.
Zoey whined dramatically as she placed the back of her hand on her forehead and the other on her heart, “Look, Mira! We are just songs making machines for her!”
Rumi giggled amusedly while Mira let out a delighted scoff looking at Zoey’s antics. She smirks before looking straight at Rumi’s eyes. Those sharp eyes always hold such gentleness whenever it lands on hers. Rumi feels warmth creeping up to her face and a familiar thump inside her ribcage as she anticipates Mira’s sentence, “If you’re up to it, then we both are up for it. Always tell us when you need something, okay? Don’t push yourself too hard. We’re all in this together.”
Zoey stood up abruptly as she lifted her notebook, “Full album comeback! We’re going wilder than the fans!”
Rumi laughs as she joins the excitement, her head thrown back as she lifts her arms into the air. Butterflies filled her stomach when she heard Mira's rare laugh. Ones where it sounds free, filled with pure delight. Rumi smiles fondly as she remembers her dream last night. One where Mira laughed exactly like now.
Their private studio immediately filled with Rumi’s guitar strumming, Zoey’s pencil scribbles, and Mira’s low hums. Mira is sitting across Rumi on the floor with her keyboard, while Zoey joined Rumi on the couch beside her. They’ve decided on a rough sample that will build the base of their title song. Rumi thoughts of a ballad. Unlike the usual melancholic ballad with quiet notes, she aims for a powerful ballad. Mira agreed and Zoey already put her words and rhyme filled thoughts into her notebook. They’re building a song with a slow opening, almost acoustical, until it reaches the pre-chorus, where the buildup rises smoothly. The chorus will be a dramatic raw vocal burst. Zoey is already halfway to her second verse rap. Rumi sits on the couch, humming her own written lyrics. She looks up and stares at Mira and Zoey lovingly. There is a warmth she has longed to have with them both, now she has it. Like a flower that blooms in her heart during spring, so does her delight as she watches them.
“Are you in love with us or what?” Mira’s voice. Rumi flinched at the remark, it took her a second to process the question before her flustered expression vanished entirely, Rumi laughed.
“I love you, guys so much.”
Zoey lets out an inhuman screech that stuck in the middle of her throat, Rumi was so sure Zoey was about to bite her notebook.
“Awwwhh, Rumiii~ We love you, too. Soooo much! Right, Mira?”
Rumi smiles at Zoey before catching Mira’s expression. She was expecting a casual reply from Mira, but she found something so endearing instead. Mira is blushing. A fist in front of her lips as she clears her throat and let out a faint “Yeah.” Rumi chuckles at that.
“Sooo… How are we gonna do this?” Zoey asked as she leaned on Rumi’s shoulder.
“Doing what we’re best at…” Rumi said.
Mira smirks, “Just be ourselves and killing it.”
Zoey cheered with a screech. Again. It’s starting to worry Rumi a lot that Zoey would lose her voice on recording day. Rumi looks at Mira for the 147th time today. She couldn’t help it. Her eyes unwittingly sought for Mira’s every minute and Rumi started to scold herself inwardly. Her gaze is reciprocated by Mira’s sharp eyes. Her heart gradually accelerates, its beat getting off rhythm, and when Mira winks at her, Rumi’s breath hitches. Her pattern glows again and heat creeping up to her face. Her smile turns awkward. Rumi short–circuited for a second. She grabs the nearest pillow and puts it on Zoey’s face to stop her screech. Rumi earned a muffled guttural sound.
“Alright! No time to be smug. We have a song to write!” Rumi faked her cheery tone. When Zoey complained, Rumi immediately stood up, being giddy without a reason.
♡
There is a knock on Rumi’s door. She flinched by the sudden sound and expected Mira on the other side of the door. She tugs her cropped tee and places her phone in her jeans’ pocket. When Rumi opens the door, Mira casually stands in front of her. Her hair is up in her usual half-bun with a baseball cap. A red flannel covered her cropped top and her jeans shorts. Rumi smiled at her.
“You can see without your glasses?” Rumi teased.
Mira frowned, and sighs, “I’m not blind, nepo baby. And I got my contact lenses on.”
Rumi chuckles, “I see you really pick me up. Good morning.”
Mira’s annoyance vanishes from her face, it is replaced by a genuine smile Rumi knows very well, “I said what I said. Good morning to you, too. You’re ready? I’m dying for boba tea.”
Rumi takes a step to lock her door and Mira steps aside, “Can’t tell Celine about it though…”
Mira chuckles, hand in her pockets, “I know. She’ll say something about how much sugar that thing has.”
Rumi laughs as she starts to walk, “Come on, let’s get your vision back first. Where do you usually get your glasses?”
Mira follows her from behind, “Let’s go to Gangnam, then. There is one where I usually go to get prescription glasses.”
It was crowded. The streets, the buildings, everywhere. Rumi forgot it was Sunday. Days locking herself up to train and practice got her losing senses of the days. She walks side by side with Mira right now. The taller girl nonchalantly walks as if she owns this block. Rumi gasped when someone bumped on her shoulder. She stopped abruptly. The after impact was immediately replaced by a firm hand around her shoulder. Then she heard Mira, voice cold, “Watch it, dude.”
Rumi hears a faint apology. She smiles as she starts walking again. Mira’s hand still casually draped on her shoulder, “You scared the poor guy.”
Mira shrugs, her hand moves away and Rumi wishes she stayed longer, “Glad he got the message then.”
Rumi just let out a faint smile. Her hand touches the lingering warmth from Mira’s hand on her shoulder. It felt fleeting, but it felt like it left a mark. It reminds her of her patterns. Rumi suddenly feels too self-aware. She tugs her short sleeves. Mira seemed to notice because Rumi now feels another touch on her back. Right on her spine. She shivers.
“You okay? Did that hurt?” Mira asked with a clear concern in her voice.
Rumi chuckles nervously, “Oh no, no. It did not hurt at all. I was just… Oh! Is that the optical store?” Rumi never felt that relieved seeing an optical store that is still at least 70 meters from where they are. But if it means she can deflect the question, she is more than relieved. Mira just hums, and Rumi avoids her stare this time.
“Wait,” Mira’s hand moved to her wrist. Rumi nervously meets Mira’s gaze, “Let’s get boba first. I’m thirsty. I know a good one. We need to take a turn from here.”
Rumi blinked twice, she let herself get dragged by Mira, “Oh, okay.”
They found themselves fighting on who to pay for the boba teas. Mira won after she threatened Rumi that she will make Rumi practice her choreography for five more sets if she doesn’t let her pay. It was weird. But Rumi just laughed at how weird that threat was. Fighting over who paid for who.
The boba tea was indeed good. She will trust Mira’s judgement in the future. When Rumi looks up at Mira after taking another sip, she catches Mira licking her lips. Rumi’s breath hitched. The boba tea is very sweet. Her mind indeliberately wandered to the taste of the milk tea on Mira’s lips.
What-
‘Ryu Rumi, that was a weird thing to think about your friend!’
That was just a random, utterly impulsive thought. Rumi convinced herself. It doesn’t mean anything.
Rumi was so shaken by the thought she just had that she took another sip and choked on one of the tapioca balls. Coughing as Mira frantically patted her back. This is embarrassing, Rumi thought as she calmed down. Leaving Mira chuckles at her clumsiness.
The optical store was fancy. Rumi felt how fitting it is to Mira. Exclusive and quiet. She accompanied Mira choosing a frame and struggled to choose one for Mira because she keeps telling her that Mira looks good in every each one of the collections. Rumi was being honest.
“I’m very flattered,” Mira chuckles and she decided on a gold-rimmed one.
She took a look at the tag and hummed at its price. It is something Rumi can still afford but it is expensive as hell.
Rumi knows that Mira came from a chaebol family. She knows about Mira’s relationship with her parents. It was one random night after practice that Mira got a phone call. The voices were harsh even without the speaker on. Mira’s posture was as rigid as a rock. Her fist clenched. She stood in the middle of the quiet hallway and Rumi, who’s on her way back, stopped a few steps away behind Mira, unsure on what to do.
When Mira lowered her phone, she turned around and Rumi was frozen at her spot. Mira’s eyes widened and the rim of her eyes reddened. Her chest heaving up and down frantically. Rumi wasn’t sure if it was from anger or something else. She slowly approaches Mira. Mira’s eyes soften as she looks away, mumbling something about how she just got a call from her parents. Rumi’s hand lifted and reached Mira’s. Her fist unclenched. Rumi couldn’t find a word to comfort Mira; she only knows to show her care in Mira’s way at that time. Quiet and steadying. So, Rumi stepped forward once more, her other hand lifted, offering a hug. Mira let out a faint gasp and she leaned in. Rumi finally secured Mira in her arms. The taller girl for once seems small and fragile. She could feel Mira melted and a pair of hands grabbed a handful of her hoodie tight. Rumi’s heart was breaking for Mira. Shattered when Mira finally told her about her parents.
♡
Protectiveness. Rumi thought of this as she woke up from her quick nap in the practice room. She's the leader of HUNTR/X after all. She needs to take care of the others. Both Mira and Zoey. And she decided that it was a desire to protect Mira, not a desire for something else. Rumi rubs her eyes sleepily.
“Oooh! She’s awake!” Zoey’s voice. Rumi sits up. Her back is aching from sleeping on the hard floor. Something fell from her front. She lifts it and recognizes it as Mira’s jacket. Her cheeks warmed and her patterns emit a faint glow. Rumi properly folded the jacket and placed it beside her as she calmed herself down.
“What time is it?” Rumi asked groggily.
Mira was the one who answered, “It’s exactly 10pm.”
Rumi was asleep for only thirty minutes. Weird. Her dream felt so long.
She stands up and grabs a water bottle to drink from, only to realize it was Mira’s as she puts it back down.
“Oh, sorry! I didn’t check,” Rumi frantically apologizing.
Mira and Zoey just laughed. Only when Rumi looks at Zoey, she sees something else behind her grin. It wasn’t just any grin; it was a knowing grin. Rumi immediately looks away.
Rumi quickly got back to her feet after the power nap she just had. She immediately runs through choreography sets for their B-sides since their title track does not require any choreography, just pure raw vocals. Rumi knows she is good at it. She just needs to polish her choreography even more. Sometimes, she feels envious of how easy it is for Mira to move. Effortlessly with elegance and power. So, Rumi started to practice even harder.
Halfway through, Rumi landed on the wrong feet and she stumbled forward. Her face never did greet the floor as Mira's hand flat on her stomach. Her back collided with the curves of Mira's front. Rumi can feel her heart beating rapidly and she couldn't figure out if it was because of herself who was nearly going to fall flat on her face or because of the sudden proximity with Mira. Her sense of smell caught Mira's scent. A mix of her perfume, shampoo, and soap despite all the energetic choreography they've been doing. It is unfair to smell this good. Rumi thought. The sensation made her feel a little dizzy.
"Rumi, you okay? Need a break?"
Mira's voice brought her back. Rumi tries to inhale as much air as her lungs can take.
“You’re too tense, Rumi,” Mira’s voice lingers near her ear. Rumi shivered. She almost forgot how to breathe when a pair of hands firmly grabs her bare waist. Her patterns glow under Mira’s hands. The warmth seeped into her skin, as if it slithered along her patterns, sneaked in through the cracks. Rumi shudders and sighs when those hands squeeze her gently.
“Okay, will you both keep foreplaying or what? And right in front of my chips? Really?” Zoey broke the silence with a questionable remark and a loud crunch.
Rumi jerked and Mira recoiled away. Zoey just giggles.
Rumi’s breathing heavily. She would love to dig her own grave right now. She snatches her jacket and said, “I’ll get something cold to drink. It’s a little bit hot here.” And immediately fled from the practice room, ignoring Mira’s call. As the door slammed close, she can hear Mira faintly say how Zoey made Rumi feel uncomfortable.
She tightened her jacket, hugging herself as she strides through the hallway. When she meets the quiet street, she starts running. Her muscles burn, but she doesn’t stop. She keeps running and running, like she always does. Running away. Rumi could no longer deny the blooms in her heart. It has grown into the definition of spring. Mira’s warmth on her skin, voice that tastes like honey, and birds chirping in her ears. It was loud and clear. Rumi was just afraid to face it, just like how she felt about her patterns before. Mira might have accepted her patterns. But would she accept the fact that Rumi has feelings for her? Rumi whines as she stops in an empty park. Her hand clutched to her chest, feeling her heart beating rapidly. Both from the run and Mira.
She has been loving Mira for so long and so, Rumi starts laughing at herself.