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Zoey is perfectly fine.
Sure, maybe she has a slight headache drumming in her temples. And maybe her throat is a little scratchy. And she can’t really breathe out of her nose. But it’s nothing! She’s fine. She can power through.
Zoey pours herself a large glass of banana milk in the kitchen, doing her best to think positive, healing thoughts. Maybe she’ll make herself some of that rejuvenating herbal tea that she got online. It said it could cure any ailment, so maybe it’s worth a shot? She tries not to think about the ‘healing tonic’ fiasco that happened before Rumi revealed her patterns. So she likes to dabble in alternative medicine occasionally… she’s just optimistic, that’s all! There’s nothing wrong with that.
Rumi shuffles into the kitchen not much later, yawning and rubbing her eyes. Her lavender hair is undone from the usual braid she keeps it in, flowing in gentle waves past her waist. Zoey loves that she’s one of the few people who gets to see Rumi like this, soft and vulnerable. As much as she loves performing with her girlfriends, it’s time like this that she really treasures. Quiet mornings where it’s just the three of them in their cozy home, nowhere to be, no fans to impress. Just them.
“Morning, Zo,” Rumi mumbles, eyes half lidded. She presses a quick kiss to Zoey’s cheek before shuffling over to the coffee pot. She sighs gratefully when she sees it’s full, pouring herself a cup. “Have I told you lately how much I love you?”
Zoey giggles, which unfortunately turns into a tiny cough that she does her best to play off as clearing her throat. “You love me, or caffeine?” she teases with a knowing grin.
“Mm, both,” Rumi says, settling down on a stool at the kitchen island next to Zoey. She takes a long sip of coffee with a grateful groan. “But you more.”
“You’re cute when you’re half asleep,” Zoey smiles, sliding a coaster over for Rumi’s mug.
Rumi hums absently, drinking more of her coffee. She glances over at the half-full glass of banana milk in front of Zoey. “Have you eaten yet? I can do some eggs and rice.”
Zoey’s stomach turns uncomfortably. The idea of food is definitely not a pleasant one right now. “No thanks, I’m good!” Zoey says, trying to sound like her usual chipper self. She knows that her positive attitude is one of the things both of her girlfriends love most about her. She doesn’t want to be a drag on them, especially not now when they all have a rare break in their busy schedule to relax.
Rumi doesn’t seem satisfied, however. Her eyes narrow slightly as she looks at Zoey, studying her. “You feeling okay, babe? You look a little pale.”
“I’m fine!” Zoey chirps, the sound making her own head throb. “It’s just early.”
Rumi gives her another long look, but Zoey is thankfully saved from any further interrogation by Mira padding into the kitchen, groaning loudly.
“I. Need. Coffee,” Mira moans dramatically, heading over to a couch nearby and flopping down on it face first. “My girlfriends are early risers and I’m dying a slow, painful death because of it.”
Zoey and Rumi exchange a look, biting back laughter. They’re both more than used to Mira’s early morning dramatics, which can usually be easily solved with caffeine and a cuddle or two.
Ignoring the wave of dizziness that makes her wobble a little when she gets up, Zoey pours a mug of coffee and brings it over to Mira, cozying up to her on the couch.
“You are a literal angel,” Mira sighs, sitting up to accept the mug and wrapping her free arm around Zoey to pull her close. “I love you.”
“Apparently the key to both of your hearts is coffee,” Zoey grins, laying her head down to rest on Mira’s chest and tucking her legs up on the couch. Mira’s wearing her fuzzy, oversized bear nightshirt that Zoey loves to snuggle against.
Mira sips coffee and presses a kiss to her forehead, then makes a worried sort of noise.
“You’re warm, baby,” Mira says, her voice softening. Her hand comes to Zoey’s forehead, brushing back her bangs so she can rest her palm against her skin. “You feeling okay?”
“I’m fine,” Zoey repeats, but she doesn’t make an effort to move. She’s tired and Mira is cozy, and she just wants to lay on her chest forever.
“She’s warm?” Rumi echoes, sounding much more awake than she was before. Zoey doesn’t open her eyes, but she can feel the couch dip with Rumi’s weight when she settles in on her other side. Suddenly, there’s a cool hand pressed to her cheek, and she hums a little at the soothing feeling of it.
“Zo-zo, you have a fever,” Rumi murmurs, voice threaded with concern. “Why didn’t you tell us you were sick?”
“I’m not sick,” Zoey protests quietly, head still pillowed on Mira’s chest. Mira starts running her long fingers through Zoey’s hair in a rhythmic motion, which makes her relax further into her. “Just…a little tired.” Her protests of health are ruined slightly when she’s forced to muffle a cough into the sleeve of her hoodie.
“Jagiya, you are definitely sick,” Mira says, in the soft, gentle way that always turns Zoey into a puddle of mush. “You’re like, a thousand degrees and your voice is shot.”
“I’ll get the thermometer,” Rumi decides, springing up from the couch. “And the meds, and a cold cloth. And also blankets.”
“Overprotective Rumi mode activated,” Mira chuckles fondly, shifting so that she can tug Zoey more fully into her lap. Zoey lets herself melt into her, humming happily when Mira runs long, soothing strokes up and down her spine.
“Why didn’t you say anything, huh?” Mira asks quietly, kissing the top of Zoey’s hair. Her voice is full of that tender softness she seems to reserve only for her girlfriends. “We want to know if you’re not feeling good, Zo.”
Zoey mumbles a non-answer into Mira’s nightshirt, not looking up. But Mira keeps rubbing her back slowly, making all of Zoey’s walls come falling down a tiny bit more with each stroke.
“I’m the happy one,” Zoey admits after a moment of silence. She feels Rumi join them on the couch again, gently tucking some of Zoey’s hair behind her ear and pressing a thermometer to her temple. “I didn’t want to be like…not happy. You guys count on me. I just want to make you smile.”
“Aegi,” Rumi sighs, pressing her lips to Zoey’s temple. “You don’t have to be happy all the time. We love you. Happy, sad, sick – whatever.” Rumi tips Zoey’s face up with two gentle fingers on her chin. Zoey finally looks up at her, and the amount of love pooled in Rumi’s chocolate-brown eyes makes a lump of emotion rise in her throat.
“You don’t have to hide, ‘kay?” Rumi says softly, holding Zoey’s gaze seriously. “We love you and want to take care of you.”
Mira kisses Zoey’s hair. “Yeah. What Ru said. It’s too early for words.”
Zoey and Rumi laugh softly, and Rumi joins the cuddle so that Zoey is sandwiched warmly between her and Mira.
“You’ve got a fever of 101. I hope you know you’re taking medicine after this,” Rumi murmurs, nuzzling her nose into the side of Zoey’s neck.
Zoey groans quietly, but there’s a small, happy smile on her face.
She’s never felt more loved.
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