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Summary
“Ugh,” Zoey whined, dragging her hands down her face. “I know we can’t just make her talk. But we both know what she wants to talk about, so it feels like we should be able to.”
Mira placed her hand onto Zoey’s abdomen, dragging her nails along the skin with the perfect amount of pressure. “I know you know that. But if she can’t even tell us, there’s no way she’d be able to follow through with actually doing it. Even if we’d all feel so much better if she just smashed our faces into the ground.”
“Why can’t we just phrase it like that?” Zoey complained. “Hey, Rumi. You remember the most traumatic night of your life? Why don’t we just recreate it and have it end by you going apeshit on us so we can all move on?”
Or, Zoey and Mira find Rumi's demon intensely attractive and decide to ask her to invite it out while they play.