Archive of Our Own

one.

This wouldn't be the last time Mira regretted a decision in her over-a-thousand-year life.

She heaved the microwave—this rectangular, blocky chunk of a machine—onto the counter with both arms, stretching them free of strain once the weight was alleviated.

She had stolen the microwave from some electronic store she found in a shopping mall from Earth. Compared to other items she had filched before, this damned machine had almost exposed her to the security cameras—which, at this point, were on the top of her list for the worst human invention ever.

Blending in with the darkside of the walls, she waited for the security camera to turn all the way to the right befor sneaking in. She almost tumbled head-first into a stack of boxes as she entered but quickly stabilised herself with her back to the door.

The prettiest pink microwave she eventually decided on was stored on top of many other more boxes of more inferior microwaves. Levitating it down gently, she cradled the box in her arms and teleported out. What was the point of going through all that effort if she couldn't get the best prize of them all?

After putting the microwave down on the cosmos-made counter—handcarved starseed wood, standard fare—she turned to the plastic bag placed on the counter. She grabbed the cup out of the bag. On the cover was a cartoonish drawing of a rice cake covered in gochujang. Below, a mouthwatering picture of realistic tteokbokki.

It was a spark of genius by her. She adored food. It was the highest delicacy of the human race. Sweeter and saltier and savour-ier than anything she'd ever tasted in her life—which was nothing before she went down to Earth for the first time a few months ago.

After getting together with Rumi and Zoey, they've been going on frequent dates throughoutthe galaxy and Earth's soil. It was always fun riding the milky way (permitted to cosmos who had learned to shapeshift only!) and gaze at exploding stars freefalling from the atmosphere, but space didn't have food. A fact her girlfriends enthusiastically agreed with through full mouths.

Mira gazed determinely at the microwavable tteokbokki in her hands. She wanted to make her lovely, incredible, absolutely gorgeous girlfriends happy. And she was going to accomplish it! With homemade meals! This was apparently the zenith of romantic gestures in human culture. So she'd be stealing that too, thank you very much.

Having no cooking skills to speak off, she figured it'd be best to start small. The steps printed on the back of the packaging she'd skimmed over sounded outrageously basic.

Just pour hot water into the cup and put it in the microwave for 4-5 minutes. So easy.

She peeled the lid open, pouring boiling hot water in the cup from her water bottle. There was probably some fancy human machine to make river water hot in an instant, but Zoey had very helpfully burned the water an hour before. She hadn't even questioned what Mira was doing, just gazed at her own reflection in the light blue water and smiled gleefully up at Mira.

"The joys of hot water have finally reached you!" she said.

Mira had no clue what she meant by that. When she tried drinking some of the water after Zoey burned it, it had only sent Mira flailing about for much, much colder water to hit her tongue. Note to self: Moon Goddesses can get burned; Sun Goddesses apparently can't.

Closing the lid once the cup was appropriately full, she put it in the microwave. She shut the door of the microwave, taking a few steps back.

A minute passed. Then two. The microwave didn't move, nor the cup in it.

Mira stared, puzzled, blinking stupidly at the machine before realising what was wrong. She laughed to herself. Duh. These machines required a press of a button to turn on.

She stepped in front of the microwave, lifting a poised finger.

Her finger hovered over the rightside of the microwave.

There were… a lot of buttons. Their symbols and their meanings completely out of her field of knowledge.

There was a plus and minus sign. She'd seen a teacher with those symbols on a whiteboard while they were conducting that school's daily worships. The plus meant addition while the minus meant the opposite.

The other symbols… she was more confused about.

There was an outline of an square. Maybe that was a button to automatically close the microwave door? Who needed hands anyways?

There was also a bell with a timer on its upper-right corner. Some sort of alarm? Or a way to customise the microwave's alarm? A ring rather than a blare, or a trill, perhaps. Did they have animal sounds too, for atmosphere?

… Maybe she shouldn't have thrown out the instruction manual that came with the box.

And maybe Zoey's influence was spreading to her. Fast.

"Hi, love," Rumi said, strolling into the room through a portal of her own making. She paused and stared at Mira, who had gone to glaring menacingly at the microwave. "Whattt are you doing?"

"Figuring out a human machine," Mira muttered, staring hard at a symbol shaped like a star. Maybe Rumi could help figure out the meaning of that one.

"Is it going well?" Rumi asked, her lilac bedroom slippers causing a soft padding noise across the moonlit floor. She carefully folded the sleeves of her bathrobe to her elbows. "I'm assuming by your expression it is very much not."

"No." But Mira wasn't going to be beaten by something made by a human!

"Do you need help?" Rumi asked, peering over Mira's hunched-over shoulders. She nearly got smacked by Mira when she suddenly stood up ramrod-straight.

"No." Mira stared Rumi right in the eye. "This is for you. No helping," Mira said.

"For me?" Rumi asked. She gently smoothed down stray hairs from the top of Mira's head. The act of affection reflected from the microwave door, blurred, the colours of their hair and Rumi's lilac robe the main highlights in view. The unchanged tteokbokki cup inside the microwave irritated Mira as more time passed.

"Yes," Mira replied, keeping very cool and chill. Zoey was probably getting ready for bed right about now, so she'd only have to cook one cup. "For you. Now all I have to do is turn on this microwave, cook the food, and then it's all yours to eat."

Rumi smiled. "Really? Oh, this is so lovely of you, Mira." She pressed a quick kiss to Mira's cheek, where Mira tried to not let the blush overpower her face with the force of a thousand suns. Judging by the tiny smirk on Rumi's face, she failed. But Rumi's joy bolstered Mira's will to succeed at conquering this microwave.

"I do love tteokbokki," Rumi said. "I wouldn't mind having some before our shifts."

"Your shift," Mira corrected.

"Right. My shift." Rumi knew not to argue about this by now.

"I got this," Mira reassured, puffing out her chest. She smiled at Rumi, which only got wider as she felt Rumi's hand on the small of her back.

After more poking and prodding, Mira realised that she didn't even have the microwave connected to anything. Electricity was the only method of powering the device in the human world. But they wouldn't be Goddesses if they weren't superior to humans in many ways.

"Give the humans a break!" the imaginary, mini Zoey in Mira's head said. Mira ignored it like anytime Zoey provided good-faith readings for the humans. Mira had improved strides in her human hatred by this point, but it was a logical fact that Goddesses were more powerful than humans. Why do all the mindless worshipping of them if they weren't?

She took the cup out. With a simple wave of her hand, Mira powered the microwave with her magic. It emitted a loud beep.

"Beeeep," Rumi imitated. It was as cute as when Zoey did it.

Placing the cup back inside, Mira once again squinted at the buttons on the microwave.

"Do you know what the star means?" Mira asked, pointing to the button.

"The stars have a lot of meaning," Rumi answered matter-of-factly. "Each star has its own story to tell, to seek, and to create."

Mira stared blankly at Rumi. "Then what does this star tell?"

"That it functions in conjuction with the microwave."

Mira didn't miss the slight twitch at the corner of Rumi's mouth. She rolled her eyes. "You could just say you didn't know."

"But where would be the fun in that?" Rumi said, trying hard not to burst out laughing.

"Zoey's influence on you is palpable, Miss Goddess Buzzkill," Mira teased.

"I am your girlfriend? How dare you?" Rumi said, faux offended.

"And she's ours too, unless you want to deny Zoey's influence on both of us?" Mira said, biting her lips to keep from giggling. It was always fun to banter with Rumi, once they got rid of their initial hang-ups and bouts of miscommunication—Zoey would probably never let them live that down.

"No," Rumi replied. She ran a hand through the fluffy sleeve of her robe, defeated for now. "I hate you."

"I hate you too," Mira replied, trading cheeky smirks and half-laughs with Rumi. She turned back to the microwave, her mind much clearer now.

There were numbers on some of the symbols— a five and a ten. She pressed the symbol with the number ten on it. The timer changed from three zeroes to a zero followed by a ten.

"Yes!" Mira cheered, pumping a fist. She cleared her throat when she realised what she had just done involuntarily.

"Cute," Rumi said, smiling. Mira kept her gaze focused on the microwave. Rumi couldn't be distracting her now!

Mira repeatedly pressed the button with the ten on it. The timer ticked up from twenty to thirty and then soon back to zero, except there was now a one at the front of it. A one and two zeros. One minute?

She continued the motion. It went up to two minutes after a few more presses, and then finally up to four minutes. Four minutes, what the instructions said were the ideal time to cook the tteokbokki.

She pressed the button near the bottom with the word "OK" on it. The microwave beeped again, starting to glow a soft orange, similar to that of Zoey's sun crystals.

"Oh, pretty," Rumi commented.

"It reminds me of Zoey," Mira said.

Rumi nodded. "Me too." Figured they'd be on the same wavelength for this.

Mira clapped her hands. "Now. We just have to wait those four minutes, and then your tteokbokki will be done."

"I can't wait!" Rumi said. Mira relaxed at how genuine her happiness was. "I really appreciate this again," she said.

Mira shrugged, brushing off the thanks. "It's a shared favourite between us."

"You should get one for yourself next time," Rumi said. The microwave was now at three minutes and thirty seconds.

"Maybe I should," Mira said. She smoothed out the wrinkles on her pyjamas shirt, having nothing else to do with her nervous hands. "I didn't know they sold cups for tteokbokki. I thought they were only for, like, water. Or other drinks."

"I think they make them for noodles too," Rumi said, rubbing a hand under her chin.

"Noodles?" Mira asked. The timer emitted a short beep at three minutes. "What type?"

"They have a lot. Don't tell me you haven't seen any humans eat them in your visions?" Rumi asked. "I think there's an ultra spicy one, a cheese one. Carbonara too? I think?"

"Carbonara? Isn't that a food from the westside of Earth—"

There was a loud noise, similar to that of lightning. Both of them snapped their heads to the microwave.

"What was tha—"

Rumi didn't get to finish her sentence before the microwave exploded into flames.

They both yelped, stumbling backwards as the microwave turned into a massive fireball. The flame grew taller and taller, reaching the star-speckled ceiling above and completely burning the counter. It burned brightly, the heat so strong it threatened to burn Mira's clothing right off.

"Water!" Rumi yelled, looking frantically back and forth between Mira and the fireball. "We need water!"

"I know that!" Mira yelled back. But where were they supposed to get water? They weren't anywhere near a water source!

"Hold on, my babies!" A heroic voice called out from the far right. "I'll save you!"

Zoey came dashing into the room, dressed in nothing but a turtle-themed T-shirt and boxers. She carried a metal bucket, some water splashing onto the ground as she ran towards her girlfriends. "Stand back!"

She aimed the bucket at the fireball, throwing the whole bucket's worth of water towards it. The fireball got extinguished, leaving only the smell of smoke and the blackened chunk of Mira's once vibrant, pink, functional microwave behind.

"What happened?" Zoey asked, placing the bucket down and wiping her forehead of sweat. "I was looking for both of you for my pre-nighttime cuddles. Then, as I was stepping through the portal, I saw a massive flame! Thankfully, I was just about to start watering my plants. So I went back into the portal and grabbed the bucket of water I was going to use to absolutely kill that flame!"

"Babe," Rumi started, still a bit taken aback from the fire. "I told you to use a watering can to water your plants."

"A watering can wouldn't have been enough to calm that fire!" Zoey rebutted. "How did you even get a fire that big?"

"I was just trying to cook tteokbokki!" Mira tried to defend herself. She slumped, defeated. "I didn't even know microwaves had a chance of exploding."

"I think most machines do," Rumi answered. She went up to Mira, rubbing her back. "Though, the microwave didn't look faulty in any way from my observations."

"No way to check it now," Mira muttered. She really didn't want to think of the possibility that she managed to steal a broken microwave out of the dozen of microwaves in the storage room. That would've been unlucky. And ridiculously stupid.

"Did you get hurt?" she asked both her girlfriends. She straightened to her full height, grabbing Rumi's arm and examining it before moving on body part by body part.

Rumi shook her head, but obliged to Mira's continued, impromptu girlfriend health check. Her other arm was lifted.

"I think my legs are fine," Rumi said as Mira reached for her right leg. "I'm standing. I'm fine," she added on as Mira stepped back with a pout.

"Nope," Zoey replied. "No turtles lost here!" A pause. "Oh yeah. And also none of my body resembles or smells like burned Goddess skin."

Mira sighed in relief. She'd never be able to forgive herself if she hurt them. Still, she went on to get a closer look at Zoey's body. She let Zoey go when she saw that there were no burns on her arms, and no hairs charred off the top off her head.

Mira turned to Rumi, hanging her head. "I'm sorry. I really wanted you to try that tteokbokki."

"Aw. It's okay," Rumi said, placing a hand on Mira's arm. "It was an accident. And we can always try again another day."

"I don't really know if I want to use a microwave again…" Mira said. "I don't want you two to get hurt."

"C'mon, Mimi. We're made of stronger stuff than that," Zoey said. She nudged Mira with an elbow. "That flame would've hurt, but we'd live."

"But if that explosion were any bigger, Rumi would've been caught in it," Mira argued. How could they be forgiving her this easily? Her voice was weak when she asked, "What would've happened then?"

"Then we'd all still agree it was an accident, and that you didn't mean for me to get hurt," Rumi said. "Like Zoey said, we're made of stronger stuff."

Rumi continued. "And also, you were standing closer to the microwave than me. You would've taken the brunt of the explosion." She sharpened her tone and her stern glare. "Which means, you would've got more wounded than me."

"Rumi's right!" Zoey agreed, pouting up at Mira. "So stop blaming yourself, silly. We're all safe and sound. All in one, beautiful, alive piece."

Mira sighed. She could never resist her girlfriends, even before they got together—even before she realised how much she wanted their love. "Fine," she relented. "At least let me clean up the mess?"

"Yeah, sure," Zoey said.

"Sure," Rumi said.

"But we're helping," they both said in unison.

Mira could never resist them.

She took one last look at the hideous wreckage that was once her pretty pink microwave, and handwaved it away. It and the ashed-turned counter disappeared, now floating away in one of the million pockets of space, soon to fall into the black hole only a few space miles away.

two.

The microwave incident would be retold between them for ages to come. Mira was just happy humans couldn't somehow peek into the intimate lives of the Goddesses. She wouldn't be able to live life without overwhelming amounts of shame if a new section were to pop up in religious texts detailing the battle between the Moon Goddess and her pathetic, burnt microwave.

As much as she'd like to forgo all human machines from now on, there wasn't any way for her to cook without any of their equipment. So she shoved down the part of her that wanted to blame the humans for the disaster a few days ago and pushed onwards on her culinary journey.

For once, Mira wished that cosmos needed to eat. Then maybe there'd be spells to whip up fried eggs in an instant. Or some cosmos-tailored kitchen equipment, at least.

As it stands, Mira was in the same room that had almost burned into a crisp. She might as well deem this room her kitchen now. She had many spare, spacious rooms granted to her anyways. No harm in using one of fifty or fifteen—she wasn't really keeping count.

Mira placed a pan on the stove, balancing it carefully. She put her hands up, willing it not to somehow fall over and crash and clatter on the floor.

The smell of smoke had left the atmosphere the moment Zoey's plant water doused the burning microwave. Any evidence the room was once a place of disaster had gone and went into the nothingness of space.

Mira stared down at the stove, willing it not to blow the hell up like its other appliance predecessor. At least she wouldn't care that much if this one did. The dull, unpolished surface of the stove spoke spiels of its origins from the cramped, dusty electronics store she stole it from.

There was absolutely no way she was returning to the previous electronics store.

She picked up an egg from the carton placed next to her, examining it. It was brown, which was a good sign for an egg… she thinks.

There were probably other types of eggs. Zoey would know more about it, but Mira didn't want to bother her more than she already has for something that was supposed to be a gift to her.

Mira would cook! She would figure out how to get these eggs to turn into the brilliant, white ones with the yellow yolk in the middle by herself.

… As soon as she figured out how to open these things.

She turned the egg around. There were no buttons anywhere on it.

She tapped the egg gently with a nail. Nothing.

"Maybe it needs you to call out to it," the imaginary Zoey in her head suggested. "Open sesame! Oh lovely egg, be free! Be free!"

Mira blinked, the brown egg so close to her face her nose was almost touching it.

She was not doing that.

"Awww," imaginary Zoey said.

'Shut up, cute, fake Zoey,' Mira thought.

There was one last option, one Mira would gleefully do were she not afraid of messing up again.

But, she supposed, the carton had nine more eggs in them. There was room for a singular, small error.

Mira lifted her hand with the egg in it, launching it on the pan with the speed of light.

The egg exploded, transparent liquid spilling all over the pan. Egg yolk flew to stain the stove, mixing with the surviving bits of eggshells. Just to magnify her failure, one, vibrant yellow droplet flew so high it landed on Mira's cheek.

Mira blinked stupidly, the droplet on her cheek slowly trailing down her face.

Okay. Maybe she should have thought that one through.

One more. Just. One. More.

Mira carefully lifted the egg out of the carton before snapping the carton shut and throwing it somewhere in the room after. It landed with a loud thump.

Between two of Mira's perfect fingers was her last chance. Her final salvation. This stupid, round, brown egg that held the most delicious substance in its insides when cooked to excellence.

All its other brethren laid destroyed, transparent liquid and pre-cooked yolk coating the stovetop that she had stopped trying to clean up after the fifth attempt. Pieces of eggshells laid still, so broken only the most minuscule pieces remained.

But there was the lone eggshell. One so much bigger than the rest. That attempt was ruined by Mira's slip of a hand, missing the pan by a whole frying pan's handle width.

The eggshell laid close to the edge of the stove, the example Mira had to follow if she wanted to finally successfully crack her egg apart. She just had to steady her hands and her mind. She even removed her nail extensions for this.

Shakily, she bent down, holding her egg between both hands just above the clean, frying pan.

Her right hand moved, tugging at the right half of the egg. Her left hand did the same. A tiny crack started to form in the middle.

In her excitement, she tugged harder with her right hand. The crack became wider in an instant. Mira froze.

She stared at the big crack, unable to let out a steadying breath, whole body frozen at a 90-degree angle as she waited for it to burst open and ruin everything.

The egg remained intact.

Her nostrils flared. The tension in her back released. Her body bended at a more relaxing 86 degrees.

Mira gently moved her left hand. Both hand and egg shook.

The crack grew to a perfect breadth, its contents smoothly falling into the pan.

"Hah!" Mira yelled, pointing triumphantly at the pan. The egg yolk stayed poised in the middle, the transparent liquid pouring out to cover the centrepoint of the pan. "I did it!"

She paused midway through her victory cheer, narrowing her eyes as she spotted something off. She leaned down, picking up a tiny eggshell that had landed in the egg yolk. A flick of her finger sent it flying into orbit.

With that small mistake gone, she pointed triumphantly at the pan once again. "Now I did it! Hah! Hah!"

Mira almost twirled in delight, but she held back. This was only the first step of the process, unfortunately. Now, all she had to do was work this stove and cook the egg to perfection. And then she'd finally conquer the act of cooking.

"Watch out humans!" Mira yelled. "I'm coming for your title of masterchef!"

"So how did it go, love?" Rumi asked, settling behind Mira's armchair. She rested her arms on the top of it. "The eggs gone— Blergh! What is that?"

Mira turned to look at Rumi, glaring daggers at her. "Could you be a little nicer about my failure?"

"I'm sorry," Rumi said. "I just wasn't expecting—"

Rumi looked in horror at the black, lumpy mush on Mira's plate. She stammered.

"—that."

"I hate stoves. I hate microwaves. I hate my stupid Goddess life," Mira muttered darkly, stabbing her fork into the mush on her plate. She brought the fork to her mouth.

"You know, you don't have to eat… that. Like, at all," Rumi said.

"Punishment for my failure," Mira muttered, cringing as she swallowed down the burned eggs in her mouth. She shuddered, her body contracting in a way that looked agonising.

"Do you… want me to help you next—"

"No."

There was a brief moment of silence. Mira continued chewing on the lump in her mouth.

"… Can you go down to Earth and get me some boba to wash down the taste?" Mira asked. She dropped the brown plate to the ground, letting it shatter into pieces. Staring down at its broken remains only made Mira grind her teeth violently.

Rumi patted Mira's arm encouragingly. "I would've gotten you some even if you didn't ask," she said.

Mira groaned, covering her eyes with her arm. It was going to take ages to get the taste out of her mouth. "Is there anything in my teeth?" she asked.

"No."

"Good."

"… Those eggs are disgusting. How did that even happen?"

"It's a long story."

three.

By this point, Mira was done hauling heavy equipment around. What was the point of straining her muscles when said equipment kept bursting into uncontrollable flames and ruining any progress she was making?

She opened a portal, adjusting the ball cap on her head. Her long blonde hair cascaded down her back through the hole in the back of her cap, complimenting her light orange crop top and short black skirt. She stepped inside the portal, her doorway to Earth.

Seconds later, she stepped out of the other end of the portal. It rippled shut behind her, stripping away her biggest light source in the dark corner of the street so late at night.

She squinted up at the dingy sushi restaurant, its wooden walls unpolished in the far streetlight's gaze. A yellow lantern hung crookedly, unlit—the dark blue curtains hiding the locked entrance that was ripped in a corner from a hungry insect's bite.

The Goddesses usually shopped at the higher end of the spectrum. With the endless amounts of money from on-hand cards or impromptu wallet theft otherwise, they didn't find any reason to do anything but.

They found this sushi place during another one of their alleyway escapades. They were hungry. They were thirsty. And both needs had been catered for in said alleyway and nearby sushi restaurant. Albeit, one more satisfyingly than the other.

She sunk into the shadows, then emerged inside the building. She felt for a wall, found it, then switched on what was most likely the place's lights.

Her vision filled with tears as she adjusted to the sudden brightness. She covered her eyes with her arm, wincing. Damn heightened light sensitivity.

She reappeared in the dining area of the sushi place. All the chairs were pushed snug to the bar. Her nose adjusted to the scentless room. No pungent fishy smell. No smell of nicotine coming out of a drunken patron's breath, intermingling to cause a nauseasous Zoey and strung-up Rumi.

Mira appreciated the emptiness of closing time, and that count emcompassed animals. Sussie, who had wished her a safe and fruitful trip with a high-pitched trill, would've probably liked the cockroaches, but not the rats.

But perhaps that thought was for Mira's own sanity. She really didn't want to imagine Sussie chowing down on the carcass of a rat.

Before Mira could step further into the sushi restaurant, a loud crash came from outside. She froze midstep, her foot hovering above the ground.

'That's not a security guard,' Mira thought. 'That cannot be a security guard, or I swear to the universe, I will incinerate them on the spot.'

She creaked her neck back, feeling the strain of her muscles. She held her breath.

"Hiii!"

Mira jumped. "What the—"

"Babe. You didn't say you were going on a heist today!" Zoey said, hoodie- and sandal-clad and the source of one too many of Mira's near-heart attacks.

"It was because it was supposed to be a surprise!" Mira said, gesturing around.

At that, Zoey's mouth became a big 'O' shape once she recognised the place.

"Ohhhh, my bad, sorry," Zoey said, her smile losing some of its weight.

Mira sighed. How could she ever stay mad at her? "It's fine. Maybe you could just stay here and help me out, in case of any fires."

"Ohh, Rumi said she was going to steal a camera soon," Zoey said.

Mira raised an eyebrow. "For?"

"For documenting the next fried eggs you attempt to make," Zoey answered, snickering.

Mira grumbled to herself. Of course Rumi would do that. "Why does her pestering never end even after becoming my girlfriend?" She stomped her foot, the tip of her heel loudly striking the floor.

Zoey stared at her, raising an eyebrow. Mira could only look back at her sheepishly, coughing loudly multiple times to wade off her embarrassment.

"The point is to not be loud, you know?" Zoey said. She mimicked coughing before making a quick zipping motion across her mouth with two fingers.

Mira cleared her throat loudly for the final time, putting a mighty amount of effort into it, just to spite Zoey. "Anyways, what do you want me to make?" she asked, looking around for the entrance to the kitchen.

She spotted dark blue curtains behind the countertop, the conveyor belt which normally rotated sushi to customers empty and motionless.

"I get to choose?" Zoey asked, following Mira. Her sandals flopped less noisily across the floor in contrast to Mira's heels.

"Sure," Mira answered.

"This is the sushi place we went to once, right?" At Mira's nod, Zoey continued. "It's much nicer without the smell." She skidded to a stop. "But wait, doesn't that mean that most of the ingredients used would be fish?"

"So?"

"So, they would only get fish in the morning," Zoey said. "Like, to ensure they're fresh and stuff."

Mira ran a hand down her face, groaning loudly. Could things go smoothly for once?

"Lovely," she deadpanned. Her first ever stop on Earth was a marketplace. How could this have slipped her mind?

"But there's still hope," Zoey said, smiling bigger just for Mira. "Like rice! There's no way they don't have rice in here."

Rice.

"Rice," Mira said, as if she was testing the word on her mouth. "Rice… Yes! Rice!" she exclaimed, slamming a fist into her palm.

She'd seen humans cook rice all the time! And it didn't look so hard to make. All she had to do was find the machine to… cook… it…

Mira rolled her eyes up to the depths of outer space. Were humans totally incapable of doing stuff without machines??

Zoey interrupted Mira's train of thoughts. "We could try and make a sandwich instead if you don't want to—"

Mira shook her head. "No. No. I am conquering these human machines if it's the last thing I do!"

"Stubborn as usual, I see…" Zoey said, but didn't make any move to stop Mira.

"I will conquer the machines," Mira said, resolutely and absolutely determined.

"That's lovely, moondrop," Zoey replied, walking ahead of Mira. "Now come on and stop posing. We need to find the rice cooker and the rice."

Mira paused at Zoey's words, looking down and realising her hands were on her hips while her chin was pointed up at the ceiling. She dropped her pose. Without her signature cape, she'd just look like a loser.

She quickly caught up to Zoey, ducking behind the countertop and bar stools. They walked to the dark blue curtains together.

"Where do the humans even store their rice?" Mira asked, narrowingly avoiding bumping into a display case. Behind the countertop was a tight squeeze for one person, let alone two. "Do you freeze rice?"

"Why are you asking me like I know all the answers?" Zoey asked, reaching the curtains. She pushed them aside with an arm, letting some of it fall over her head as she peeked in.

Peeking her head back out like a jack-in-the-box, she said, "Kitchen's here."

As Mira let the curtains flow past her, making sure her perfect hair and cap were still neatly in place, she took a good look at the kitchen before her and gave a mighty sigh. It was even more cramped than the dining area.

Not that Zoey seemed to mind. She pressed closer to Mira, bringing an arm around her waist and squeezing. Mira barely managed to stitfle a squeak of surprise.

"Man. I can't imagine how these sushi chefs work in such a small space without losing their minds," Zoey said. She waggled her eyebrows at Mira. "Well. Unless they get down like us, that is."

Rolling her eyes but making no move to remove Zoey's arm around her waist, Mira said, "Stop flirting, brat. We're here on a mission."

"Brat?" Zoey gasped, all mock offence. "Well, I never!"

"Shhh!" Mira put a finger to her lips. "Uh, uh, uh. Quiet, remember?"

Zoey hmphed, turning around and scanning the cabinets and soy sauce bottles on one of the counters. She cocked her head towards the fan attached to the corner of the wall. "Turn it on so you don't overheat," she threw over her shoulder.

Mira decidedly did not give Zoey a response for that, even if she did as told.

The ceiling fan rotated slowly, its blades struggling at first before it picked up to a regular pace. As Zoey looked for the rice, Mira searched for the rice cooker.

"Found it," Zoey said, holding a transparent container containing rice in her arms. She placed it on an empty counter, pushing away a box of tissue and folded towels to make way for more room. "And the rice cooker is…?"

"Still on it," Mira said, crouching down once she didn't find anything in the top cabinets or shelves. She smiled once she found the rice cooker, located on a bottom shelf. She hauled it up, placing it next to a switch, and plugged it in.

"Have you seen any humans cook rice before?" Zoey asked, looking as Mira took off the lid of the rice cooker.

"I've seen them eat it. We've eaten it," Mira answered, looking inside the rice cooker. "I don't think most humans pray while cooking…"

"Not unless there was a fire," Zoey smirked.

"Both of you are never letting that go, are you?" Mira asked, groaning.

"Nopeee," Zoey said, popping the "E".

Mira opened the container of rice, resisting the urge to poke at it with her acrylic-painted nails. Zoey's influence, once again. Her nails were bright pink. Zoey's was baby blue, and Rumi's lilac. The paint job on all their nails was a bit sloppy, but Zoey was only a few weeks into practicing, and she aimed to one day do the complex patterns she showed Mira and Rumi once.

"We should… wash our hands first," Mira said, recounting a school lesson about hygiene: a mother in the family kitchen drying her hands before heading to the living room.

Zoey saluted. "Yes ma'am, Goddess ma'am!"

A bout of cold sink water and soapy hands later, Mira took the container of rice and poured its contents into the rice cooker until it was a quarter full. The most satisfying sound Mira had ever heard filled her ears as rice grains fell into the bottom of the rice cooker.

"Man, wish we could get that on video," Zoey commented, clearly immensely pleased with the sound too. "That sound needs to imprinted into my brain."

"Agreed," Mira said, placing the rice container back on the counter.

"Wait," Zoey said, holding a hand up. "We need to wash the rice too, right? Or is the rice already washed?" She scratched her head, eyebrows furrowing. "Or did they already wash the rice before putting it in the container, but we need to do it again anyways?"

"Uhhh." Mira didn't have a damn clue. "I guess we can just add the water now?" Mira said, glancing back towards Zoey's dubious expression and the rice cooker. "It can't hurt, right?"

Zoey shrugged. "I'm only your assistant and your fire put-outter. You call the shots."

"I wish I had some shots right now," Mira said exasperately. Why couldn't things just be nice and easy? Why couldn't the chefs in the restaurant be horribly incompetent and needed recipes on-hand at all times?

"We can always steal the sake later," Zoey suggested. They had ordered it when they ate here previously.

"Please," Mira begged. Zoey always knew how to brighten the mood. "I need it if this machine blows up in our faces again."

"It won't," Zoey reassured. "And if it does, we evacuate the place and blame a security guard for any property damage."

Mira nodded furiously. That was the best response Zoey could have given her, bar none. Zoey smiled, bringing Mira down to her height with a hand on her chin and pecking her lips.

"There's my cute moondrop," Zoey said. She let Mira go with a soft smile and freckles around crinkled eyes. "Now, make me and Rumi proud!"

Mira took a deep breath, steadying her mind and body, grabbing a measuring cup from one of the cabinets and filling it with water. Might as well clean it. She didn't need amother bout of endless gagging and suffering.

She waited until the cup was full before dumping all of it into the rice cooker. Again—she repeated the process until the water level was slightly above the rice, soaking but not submerging it.

The lid now back on, Mira turned the rice cooker on. Thankfully, the symbols on this machine actually came with helpful words alongside them. She pressed the button that said "white rice", the rice cooker whirring up with a noise. Mira bit her lip as she stared at it.

"Thirty minutes," Zoey said, looking at the red timer on the rice cooker. "You're not gonna stare at the rice cooker for that long, right?"

Mira didn't budge.

Zoey sighed. "The rice's not going anywhere." She tugged at Mira's arm, unclenching Mira's fist and massaging the tension in it away. "Come on. Let's go steal that sake while the rice's cooking. It's probably somewhere in the fridge."

After another minute of anxious staring, Mira relaxed and decided there was no point in doing this for thirty minutes straight. Besides, if it blew up, she didn't want to be in its direct radius and risk her face being burned. She followed Zoey to the fridge, switching to theiving mode.

After four shared shots of sake, one half-empty bottle on the kitchen counter, and many full ones stored safely away through a quick portal trip back to space, the rice cooker finally finished cooking.

"I'm scared," Zoey admitted, still holding her empty shot cup.

"That makes me feel so much better…" Mira said, staring as the "keep warm" button on the rice cooker lit up.

"About how awesome it's going to be!" Zoey quickly changed her tune, grinning and lifting her shot cup in celebration.

Mira turned to Zoey, raising an eyebrow very, very slowly. Zoey got the message, lowering her shot cup and giving apologetic eyes, her grin sheepish.

"I didn't want to lie to you," Zoey stated.

"Again. That makes me feel so much better," Mira deadpanned.

"I love you."

"Ugh."

Buzzed on alcohol, her determination the only thing keeping her muscles steady, Mira lifted the lid of the rice cooker. The first thing that hit the both of them was the pleasant smell.

It wasn't burnt. The rice didn't look charred either. It was a pleasant white all the way round.

Looking around, Mira found what looked to be the utensil used for scooping rice. She grabbed a plate and gathered a scoopful of rice, unceremoniously dumping it onto the plate. Then, she brought the plate up to her nose, taking a big whiff of it.

"It's not burnt, right?" Mira asked, doubtful even if the fragrant smell in front of her spoke of a potential success. She brought the plate up to Zoey's nose, watching as she sniffed it like a hound.

"Nope," Zoey confirmed. "Not burnt."

"It's not the alcohol, right?" Mira asked. Her vision was fine, her arms didn't feel disconnected from her body, and she wasn't about to topple over like the last time she downed a couple bottles of soju (three and a half, to be exact). But the alcohol still made her emotions swirl and swell.

Zoey placed a hand on Mira's shoulder, voice gravely serious, mouth drawn into a thin line. "Babe. I think you just conquered the machines."

Mira perked up, eyes sparkling with the light of a full moon before her own anxiety took over again.

"Wait," she said. There was one more test for her to pass. And if she passed, she'd finally be able to say she did it—to say she'd successfully cook something good. Finding a spoon, her hands jittery and jumpy with nerves, she collected a mouthful of rice.

Mira thought about taste testing the rice herself, but caught herself before she did. She did this out of love; she turned to Zoey.

"Ahh," Mira enunciated, bringing the spoon to Zoey's mouth.

Zoey's natural brown-gold eyes went wide, starting to shine like post-Rumi-magicked stars. "You're the best," she said with a heart-shaped smile. It made Mira's heart do several magpie-like flips. She nodded Zoey along.

Zoey brought her open mouth closer, making a loud "ahh" sound as she did.

CLANG!

Mira and Zoey jumped, the spoon falling from Mira's hand and clattering to the ground. On alert, Mira let her magic flow freely with the spike in her emotions. She pointed her fingers to the nook close to the refrigerator where the sound had come from.

A giant, brown rat ran out of the nook, squeaking loudly as its long, wormlike tail smacked wildly against the tiled kitchen floor.

Mira's nose scrunched in disgust as she dropped her fingers. "What the hell?" she asked.

"Yeahhh." Zoey cringed, face contorted in a grimace. "We are not eating here ever again."

Suddenly, Zoey's eyes went wide with panic. "Mira! The rat!"

Mira looked to where Zoey was frantically pointing. The rat was making a mad dash towards their fallen rice.

"Oh no, you don't," Mira said, aiming at the rat with her fingers. Its tail started to glow a dark blue, its squeaking getting louder as it was lifted off the ground.

As the rat dangled mid-air, Mira came to a realisation. "Wait. Why do we care about the fallen rice anyways?"

Zoey looked down to the paw prints the rat left on the floor—the many rice grains scattered from the spoon like the remains of a horrible crime scene committed by rodents and insects.

"I… panicked?" Zoey shrugged, wincing. "I don't know. I was just really excited about that spoonful of rice."

Mira sighed, most of it relief. "It's fine. We can just grab more rice once we get rid of the—" Her sentence caught in her throat from the sight occuring in front of her.

Both her and Zoey stared in disbelief as the rat started swinging side to side, using its tail to gain momentum. Like a living pendelum, it started gaining incredible speeds, giving itself one last mighty swing before it flung its whole body forward.

Mira's magical grip on the rat dissipated from the sheer amounts of incredulousness she was feeling.

The rat succesfully swung forward, narrowingly landing on the counter with the rice cooker. It scattered upwards with its front paws, launching itself into the delicious aroma that was Mira's first successful attempt at cooking.

Mira barely resisted the urge to cry out in agony as her precious rice was contaminated by the devilish creature burying itself in its essence currently.

Zoey stared bewildred, her jaw practically reaching the floor. Her arms hung limply by her sides.

"Um, uh, er," Zoey stammered. Her mouth opened and closed stupidly. "Huh??"

Mira whined pathetically in defeat, sinking to the ground. She buried her head in her knees.

"I—I didn't know rats could. Could?" Zoey continued to stammer. "Just. Wha??"

At this point, Mira might as well just cry until the restaurant flooded with her tears. She knocked her forehead against her knees. The sound that emitted was barely heard over the sound of the rat chewing on her rice.

"Why can't anything go right?!" Mira yelled. "Just once?! Once is all I ask!"

Zoey sunk to her knees next to Mira, gently patting her on her head, cooing kind and comforting words.

The rat happily continued eating her rice even as Mira pondered her own sanity and the budding idea of sending Earth spiralling into a black hole.

intermission.

"Can Goddesses never be granted peace?" Mira questioned, staring at and through the drifting cracks in the ceiling. The galatic nightview did little to provide solace to her this time. "Are they doomed to suffer through every single timeline, every universe, no matter what?"

Caw! Caw!

"Yes. That's a nice thought. Destruction of the entire universe as we know it."

Caw! Caw!

She turned to bury her face in her pillow. Its silky, soft casing that Rumi got for her on their one-month anniversary felt taunting at the moment. A reminder of all the ways Mira couldn't provide and give back.

All Mira wanted was to be a good girlfriend… She closed her eyes, welcoming the pitch black.

Caw.

Sussie landed on her head. It gently grabbed a strand of her hair with its beak.

"Don't," Mira warned, her voice muffled by the pillow.

Sussie released her hair. Instead, it hopped down her head. Based on the ruffling of its feathers, Sussie was now right in front of her, waiting for her to lift her head so it can peck at her cheeks. It was apparently very entertaining to the magpie to see its Goddess with rosy cheeks.

Sussie thrilled a little tune. The familiar chirping made Mira stop rubbing her face against her pillow like a cat.

She reached a hand out, feeling around her quilt until her hand landed on the soft cape she adorned Sussie with. She followed the silk of the cape up Sussie's body, scritching lovingly when her fingers reached Sussie's head.

"That's a good magpie," Mira mumbled, satisfied by Sussie's chortling. She lifted her head from her pillow, locking eyes with a familar six-eyed gaze.

Caw! Caw!

Mira sighed. "I shouldn't give up, huh?"

Caw! Caw!

"They'll appreciate the effort," Mira repeated what Sussie communicated to her. Internalising thoughts were easier when it came out of her own voice. "But what if I mess up again? It can't be too long until my attempts become incompetent and clumsy rather than endearing and cute."

Caw! Caw!

"Then I try again…" Mira repeated. "And it'll become easier?"

Sussie thrilled happily.

Mira sat up, scrubbing her cheeks free of pillow marks when she noticed Sussie staring up at her with amusement glinting in all its black eyes.

She scooped Sussie up in her arms, cradling it close to her chest. It rested its head against a unbuttoned section of her signature suit. She didnt't bother to button it up after her shift.

"How do you always know what to say?" Mira asked her very first friend in her new life.

Caw!

Mira snorted. "Okay, genius. I get it. Don't underestimate the intelligence of a magpie."

Caw.

She snuggled Sussie to her face, content to let Sussie make her cheeks ruddier with affectionate nudging and tugging.

four.

Mira took a bite of the pork belly. It took her a whole three minutes to swallow the tiny piece of pork she snatched with her teeth. But it wasn't a totally uncomfortable experience. She didn't shiver, nor wince—didn't contemplate more than twice about spitting the pork out.

"Bad?" Rumi asked, carefully studying Mira's expression. She leaned her elbows on the kitchen counters she bought with her black card. A matching air fryer laid on top of it, warmth radiating from recent usage.

Mira took another bite before answering, chewing through the pork with great effort. "Mm. It's not… inedible?" She rolled the pork in her mouth. "I don't want to eat more. It's bland. But I think it's safe to eat."

Rumi smiled, kissing Mira's cheek.

"I won't eat it then," Rumi said. "But I'm proud."

Mira smiled, grateful to have a shoulder to press against. She nudged closer to Rumi. "Yeah. I know."

five.

"I don't think it's my thing," Zoey commented, leaning down to take another bite of the salad Mira made. Each minced clove of garlic was unique, its pieces as uneven as every chopped piece of green onion in the bowl. Yet when compared to its picture perfect duplicate in the cookbook, Zoey could make an easy match.

"It's a good thing," Zoey continued, looking at Mira. "Nothing tastes off to me. I just don't like the taste of lettuce, I think. Even with that vinigrette."

Mira took a pair of chopsticks, lifting a piece of pepper-flaked lettuce into her mouth. The seasoning didn't really compliment the salad, but there was flavour. The spice tickled the back of her throat, leaving a noticeable tinge that would intensify if she shifted her tongue.

Zoey titled her head at Mira, a small smile on her face. "Keep at it, moondrop. You're getting there."

seven.

Mira and her girls clinked their glasses together, downing peach soju. Zoey found the taste right up her alley; Rumi could do with the melon-flavoured one instead.

Mira watched as Rumi and Zoey took a bite of her braised potatoes, the only food there that wasn't stoleaway. Fiddling with her chopsticks, Mira stared expectantly at her girlfriends across the table.

Their nods and smiles settled into Mira's heart for the rest of the night, even if her own bite didn't reach her expectations.

eight.

The broccoli in the stir fry she made wasn't cooked evenly. One gave a bitter aftertaste. Mira's frown was stagnated by Zoey's happy hum after Zoey bit into a different, better piece of broccoli.

Mira squared her shoulders, accepted that improvement wouldn't be linear, and swept the pan she used into her porcelain sink.

ten.

Her salmon burned while she was cutting her vegetables. Fish burned fast, faster than other types of meat. Lesson learned.

fourteen.

She forgot the salt. According to the cookbook, that was a mistake she'd remember and never make again.

nineteen.

The yolk wasn't as runny as she needed it to be. Try again. She still had five more eggs in the carton.

twenty.

On her fourth attempt, her rice was near perfect. She deemed the rice cooker to be her least hated human machine, competiting toe-to-toe with the air fryer.

twenty-five.

Mira noticed she was humming while drying her hands, dishes of all ages and colours stored away in magic-crafted cabinets after a thorough washing.

It was a happy tune, similar to that of a certain magpie's. She smiled, starting to prepare a meal for three.

twenty-seven.

"You two just sit pretty over there while I get this done," Mira said, hearing the familiar sounds of an opening and closing portal. She kept her eyes on her pan as she moved it across the stove's flame, watching as the clear egg turned white.

"Oh, that smells so good, love," Rumi said.

"Yeah!" Zoey agreed. "Can't wait for today's meal."

Once the egg was cooked to perfection and safely off the pan, the stove turned off, and Mira checked out her girlfriends. They were both in their usual Goddess attires, Zoey just getting off her shift while Rumi was slacking off at the beginning of hers. Mira too, but that could go without saying at this point.

Forcing herself to pull her eyes away from the stunning sights that were her beloveds, she grabbed three pairs of chopsticks, setting them down on their respective plates.

Quickly, she poured two cups of water with the water dispenser. As Rumi and Zoey sat at the dining table, she set the cups in front of them. She hurried back to the kitchen area, checking if the strings of her apron were still tied tightly behind her.

Zoey whistled. "Looking good, babe."

Without turning around, Mira shook her hips, smirking as Rumi's and Zoey's faces turned red in delight.

"Later," Mira teased, winking at her girlfriends. Rumi's gaze turned another shade of hungry before she attempted to calm herself down with her cup of water.

Mira opened the rice cooker, a breath of warm steam wafting to and from Mira and to her lovely guests. She scooped the contents out, dumping equal portions onto the plates right next to the fried eggs.

"Could you really drizzle the soy sauce on? Like really slather that egg with it?" Zoey asked, batting her eyelashes at Mira. As if Mira needed the extra motivation to listen to Zoey's request.

"Salty," Rumi commented, nodding her head.

Both Mira and Zoey slowly turned their heads to Rumi. Rumi blinked back innocently. However sly Rumi thought she was being, Mira could easily spot the mischief glinting in Rumi's eyes. A promise for later.

Maybe Rumi was planning on slacking off her entire shift.

One of the eggs was lopsided compared to the other two. Mira took that plate for herself.

"What you doing there, babe?" Zoey asked, looking as Mira grabbed a piece of seaweed, turning it around above the flame of the stove. Once done, she brought the seaweed above one of the plates.

A loud crunch came from in-between Mira's connected palms, small bits of seaweed raining down on the rice-and-egg-decorated plate below.

"Ohh, so that's what you were doing," Zoey said, wide-eyed and amazed. "Cool."

Mira repeated the process with the other two plates. Only then did she grab the bottle of soy sauce, drizzling it onto the plates of egg rice.

Way too much for Zoey. Way too little for Rumi. Just right for Mira.

Zoey didn't bother speaking any longer once her plate was in front of her. She started scarfing it down with her chopsticks, getting soy-sauce-coated egg yolk on her lips.

Rumi took her time. A bite in had her humming in joy. "You always make the most delicious meals," she said.

Mira looked up mid-bite, seaweed crackling in her mouth. Chewing, she rolled Rumi's words around in her mind.

"It's the best dish I've made so far," she settled on.

"One of many!" Zoey said, grinning widely, bits of seaweed between her teeth. She snapped back to practiced PR Goddess mode with a shake of her head, downing her cup of water to its base and licking her teeth before continuing. "You've improved so much."

Mira huffed a laugh through her nostrils. "I sure am glad I did. Imagine if I didn't?"

"What do you mean? Why?" Rumi asked.

"I mean," Mira looked at her girlfriends, "you two deserve the best. I wanted to provide."

She took another bite of her meal. The rice wasn't clumped together. The seaweed wasn't burned by her clumsy hands, nor did the soy sauce bottle rattle out of her shaky grip.

It was pretty much perfect. Finally.

Zoey's plate was almost clear. Even the tiniest droplets of soy sauce were licked clean. Rumi hadn't put her chopsticks down once. She was leaving the egg yolk for last, as she always did.

Mira should be proud.

All she felt was crushing shame.

"Dear?" Rumi asked. Her eyes—one piercing yellow, another calming brown—shone with equal amounts of worry. "You're looking a bit pale. Is everything okay?"

Mira swallowed, the weight of it cementing her silence further. She couldnt't even hide from her girlfriends' gazes, unable to stare down at her own barely-touched meal.

"Hey."

Mira looked up, seeing Zoey with a glass of water in her hand.

"You didn't pour one for yourself," Zoey said. She handed the glass to Mira. "Got too distracted with your dish."

Mira took a quick gulp of the water. She rubbed her mouth, stalling her response. "Was it really that good?" she asked, her voice meek and rotten with insecurity.

"Of course," Rumi said, nodding. Zoey's gaze turned more concerned. "Your dishes have tasted amazing since two weeks ago."

"And I've started cooking when? Three months ago?" Mira questioned. "Took me long enough."

"Okay," Rumi said, yellow eye glowing, frown deepening. "What's up? Why are you being so harsh on yourself?"

Mira's eyes snapped back up at the questioning tone. She clenched her fists underneath the tablecloth, willing the instinct to yell to not overwhelm her.

She felt a tidal wave of shame crash over her again. What was wrong with her? Why couldn't she be the girlfriend they both deserve?

Zoey handed Mira another glass of water. "Drink," she ordered. Mira took it.

"I don't know what to say," Mira replied after finishing her drink. "Or, well, I don't have much to say."

"Say it anyways," Rumi encouraged.

"I… don't think I'm doing enough," Mira confessed. "I took so long just to get here, and I'm still making so many mistakes."

"Mistakes?" Zoey questioned, sharing a look with Rumi. "What mistakes?"

"All my cooking attempts," Mira said. "And, just,"—she gestured to herself—"my flaws. Anytime I don't understand how to communicate well, or get angry, or…"

"… I'm not very good at this… girlfriend thing," Mira said. "And it's not good enough for you two."

Rumi and Zoey shared another glance. Mira couldn't pinpoint the emotion in them. It made her feel smaller than she already did.

"We're still making this work together," Rumi started. She pushed her plate aside. "We're still learning about you, and you about us. It's normal that we mess up."

That wasn't right. "We?" Mira asked.

"We." Rumi nodded. "You're being too hard on yourself. You're not realising that we're all messing up together."

Mira questioned Rumi's statement with her gaze.

"Remember that time you got angry?" Zoey asked. Mira was going to retaliate by saying that she got angry every three business days but she held back at the seriousness in Zoey's eyes.

"At the planetarium? Where you were overwhelmed with a bad shift and we teased you despite the bags under your eyes?" Zoey continued.

Mira did remember. It was a day beginning with wide-opened eyes and sweat-soaked pyjamas and ending with Mira apologising profusely to both her girlfriends for snapping at them.

"Yeah. But wasn't that my fault?" Mira asked.

"No…?" Zoey asked confusingly. "We apologised to you too. For pushing too hard. Remember?"

"Yeah. But I still messed up first, right?" Mira asked.

Rumi had a small smile on her face. "Moondrop, did you think we would apologise for nothing?"

Mira rubbed at a fingernail, keeping her gaze down. "I mean, I'm used to it."

Both her girlfriends frowned at her.

Zoey reached for her chair, pulling it closer to Mira. She pressed a kiss to Mira's upper arm, nuzzling into her chest and looking up at her. "You're okay. We're going to be okay," she said.

Mira couldn't help but lean into Zoey's warmth for comfort. She heard Rumi shifting her chair closer.

"But I'm not enough," Mira confided. Rumi leaned her head against Mira's shoulder, a steady and familiar weight. "I'm falling apart because of some light cooking. How is that good?"

"You're falling apart because you think you don't deserve grace," Zoey gently corrected. "And that's okay. We're here. We'll help, if you let us."

Rumi caressed Mira's knuckles, moving to trace every hardened palm line and blue-purple vein with a thumb. "You're with us, now. We're still learning about each other. We'll listen. We want to listen."

With Zoey and Rumi surrounding her, their love, their comfort, the words that fall freely and genuinely from their mouths—Mira felt the truth come out, bit by fragile bit of her heart.

"I started cooking so I can make it up to both of you," Mira said. "I wanted you two to feel as loved as you do for me. These last few months have been the happiest I've ever been. I never thought I'd be here, but here I am! So happy. And so loved. And so—"

Mira choked on her own emotion. Fragile by fragile eggshell fragment of her heart—it came pouring out into the waiting palms of her girlfriends.

"I wanted everything to be perfect," Mira whispered. "I love you both so much. I just adore you."

Mira covered her mouth. Both Rumi and Zoey stared at her with wide eyes.

It's not like she hadn't told them that she loved them, but adore? A love that rivalled the force of a sun or the star-crossed constellations human couples prayed to.

There was no point in hiding it though. And no way she'd take it back. Mira uncovered her mouth. Her bottom lip trembled.

The shine in Rumi's eyes became pronounced, starting to shimmer with tears. When she blinked, one came flowing down her cheek.

She cupped Mira's cheek with a gloved palm. Leaning forward, she kissed Mira gently.

"You're amazing," Rumi whispered after pulling back. "Oh, you're so lovely."

There was a tap on Mira's shoulder. Zoey looked up at her, sniffling with wet eyes.

"Oh, you beautiful, beautiful woman," Zoey wailed. She nuzzled deeper into Mira's chest. "I adore you too! How could I not?"

Mira bit her lip, trying to hold back her own tears. She didn't think she was doing a good job at it, with the way her body was starting to lightly tremble, but damnit if she wouldn't try.

Zoey chuckled. "You're silly." She brushed a thumb under Mira's eyes, briefly touching Rumi's hand still on Mira's cheek. "What are you trying to do?"

Mira sniffed pathetically. "Be strong…"

Rumi chuckled. "Okay, tough girl." She sniffled, wiping her nose with her hand. "Be strong."

Mira barely held back a hiccup. "Of course."

Zoey looked to the table, where Mira's plate was still mostly untouched. "It'll get cold. You should eat."

"Mm," Mira replied.

"Hey. We'll keep asking for more meals just so you'll get over your perfectionist streak with your cooking," Rumi said.

"Says you," Mira teased.

Rumi rolled her still-wet eyes. "Yeah. Yeah. You got me there. I'm a perfectionist, haha."

"Mira's right," Zoey agreed.

"Whose side are you on, Sun Goddess?" Rumi exclaimed.

"No, babe, wait," Zoey said. "Not the full title!" She pouted exaggeratedly. "What happened to sunbeam? Sunlight? Sun-absolutely-adorable-Zoey?"

"You made that last one up yourself!"

Zoey latched even closer to Mira. "Hmph. I'm sure Mira would call me that if I ask her too."

"It's too long. No," Mira rejected.

"What?!" Zoey exclaimed. "That's it. You two are dead to me! Dead, I say!"

"Yeah. Good luck doing that to a Goddess, dear," Rumi said, smiling.

Mira laughed. The food was going to get cold by this point, but she couldn't get hungry, and she always had more time to cook more.

She'd get this down. One day, she'll be able to tell herself that she deserves this—a stable life, a calming love. But for now, she was squished between her two bickering girlfriends, and that was enough.

Her laugh rattled from and out her chest easily. She could smell the scent of their recent meals on both her girlfriends' breaths as they laughed.

She had an eternity to learn and unlearn, after all. Non-linear. Hugs and kisses and cuddles. The warmth of well-fed loved ones around her; their eternal patience and support.