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Zoey slides a contract over the desk at Rumi and she wonders for probably the dozenth time that hour how someone so young was the head of security for one of the most powerful women in Korea. She glances at the contract as she reaches for a pen, but her eyes stick on one of the stipulations of employment. Her lips twitch and Zoey clocks it immediately. Rumi feels her face heat and clears her throat before tapping a fingertip to the point in question.
"'Don't fall in love with the client'?"
"It's really just a formality." There's a small hum from Zoey as she stares at the ceiling in thought. "I swear at this point, though, Mira-ssi has gone through 90 percent of the private security force in Korea…the longest record of employment is a week." There's an undercurrent of irritation in her tone, but the look on her face is fond as she says it.
"Is the client that difficult?" Rumi scratches her name on the contract, projecting indifference in the way she arches an eyebrow.
"That irresistible," Zoey deadpans and Rumi snorts.
"I'm sure it won't be a problem." Rumi isn't here to live out some fanfiction fantasy, she's here to work. The last thing she wants to add to her life is a complication.
Zoey just offers her small smile and they both turn at the sound of the door opening. Rumi about swallows her goddamn tongue when she lays eyes on Hong Mira for the first time and the mirth on Zoey's face irritates her more than any I-told-you-so ever could.
It has been 8 months, 22 days, 6 hours, and 14 minutes. Ryu Rumi officially holds the title of longest held bodyguard for Hong Mira (with the exception of one: Choi Zoey).
Rumi is quite proud of that fact.
She's also a massive fucking liar.
"It wouldn't kill you to take a break, you know."
Rumi thins her lips, trying and failing to hide the fact she's grinding her teeth. Judging from the smirk that finds its way onto pink lips, she's unsuccessful. It just makes her grind her teeth harder.
The smirk is one thing, but it's the fact that Mira is leaning casually up against the side of the car, her long legs stretched out and crossed in front of her while she nonchalantly licks at an ice cream cone. And Rumi knows Mira is still watching, cataloging every movement, filling away every detail, while she feigns disinterest. That's probably what frustrates her even more. Ryu Rumi is prone to hiding and she doesn't know what to do with being observed like this.
"Might kill you, though," Zoey muses, balancing on her tiptoes with a hand splayed across Mira's chest who smiles down at the younger woman before pressing a kiss to her waiting lips.
That was the other thing. Not only was Rumi a total fucking liar and had fallen completely head over heels for her client, she also seemed to be utterly and irrevocably in love with her boss.
There's a longing that stabs through her in these moments, when Mira lets her guard down just enough and Zoey gives in to the need for even the tiniest bit of intimacy. Rumi can picture herself pressed between them, sweaty and—
She shakes herself to clear the image from her head. The gentle but teasing smiles on both of their faces tells Rumi they know exactly what she was thinking. Flushing, she looks away, hoping they can't read anything else there.
Everything comes to a head a few weeks later. Rumi fully expected to take this secret to her grave and she might very well get her wish.
It wasn't a heroic moment—she didn't think so, anyway. It wasn't like she had jumped in front of a bullet. But she had shoved Mira and Zoey out of the path of a car that had lost control on a patch of ice. She remembers watching them hit the ground and a relieved breath leaving her before all she knows is pain. The impact sends her flying into the middle of the intersection, landing in an undignified heap and slamming her head against the pavement. She briefly registers the chaos and noise around her has cars skid to a stop, tires screeching while they swerve to avoid her.
Mira's face looms above her and Zoey's assessing hands run quickly over her body as she shouts instructions at the growing crowd.
Zoey is on her knees now, her eyes darting quickly between Rumi's, words falling from her lips but never reaching Rumi's ears.
Her hands lift, slow, slow, slow, cupping each of their cheeks.
"Beautiful," she whispers. "Love—" It's difficult to speak. She swallows, tries again. "Love you."
Mira chokes on a laugh that sounds suspiciously like a sob, leaning further into Rumi's palm. Zoey presses a kiss to her forehead, whispers we love you, too. Their faces are the last thing she remembers before darkness takes her.
The sharp smell of antiseptic and the lingering ghost of pain cause Rumi's eyelids to flutter. The first thing she really registers is the beeping. There was a lot of beeping at it was annoying. She tries to move, to make it stop, but can't. She just wants to go back to sleep, but that incessant beeping.
She groans, tries to move her hands again and finds she can't. She can't move them and she panics, her breathes coming loud and harsh. The beeping gets faster, louder, makes her panic more.
"Rumi, jagiya." There's a gentle squeeze against one of her hands.
"Relax, babo-ya."
There's a snort and a chastising whisper of Mira.
Her breathing calms, the beeping slows. When she finally manages to fully open her eyes, she's met with the sight of Zoey and Mira—one on either side of her bed, each with one of her hands clasped in their own, the other joined together on Rumi's stomach.
"So, you love us?" Mira teases, the effect ruined by the slightest tremble in her bottom lip.
Rumi tries to smirk but it turns into more of a grimace. Zoey rubs tiny, soothing circles on the back of her hand. Rumi's eyelids flutter and she lets them close completely, leaning further into her pillows.
"I'd like to put in my notice," she says.
Zoey and Mira start to argue, words jumbling and in panic. Eyes still closed, a small smile touches Rumi's lips before she squeezes their hands to end their rambling.
"I'd like to put in my notice," she says again, "and then I'd like to take you two on a date."
Two sets of lips press against her forehead, the word yes falling from each of them.