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Rumi and Mira are the first out the door. Zoey laughs when Rumi practically shoulder-checks it and stumbles down the stairs, nearly tripping over her feet and tumbling to the ground. She does trip when Mira intentionally sticks out her foot, but then Rumi manages to hook her arm around Mira’s middle, and...Zoey rolls her eyes as she watches them both slam into the dirt and snow. They have the audacity to look completely bewildered, as if they didn’t cause literally every part of that, and then they’re shoving away from each other and pushing each other further into the snow and away from the hanok.
“So, like, are we gonna make it to the car, or...?” Zoey calls out from inside. She still has to put her coat on, but Mira and Rumi wanted to get outside and start the car just so they didn’t have to wait for it to heat up—as if it would ever take her that long to put her coat on?—and now they’re suffering the consequences of all of that, and Zoey is decidedly not. She rolls her eyes again when she hears their voices mix into one, both of them trying to sputter out some dumb claim about how they’re ‘totally going to the car you just have to wait’ and how ‘you should have more faith in us’ and ‘also just by the way it was Mira’s fault’ and ‘Rumi I will kill you right now’ before they dissolve back into more fighting.
In all her time moving around and meeting new people, Zoey has never met two people like them. Rumi and Mira are completely different from anyone she’s ever met before; they listen to her, they urge her to join in on the stuff they’re doing, they’re good at making her feel less like she’s too much, and they’re just...they’re nice. They’re both really nice, even when they’re trying to kill each other. That’s another thing Zoey has mostly gotten used to, even if she was more uncomfortable with it in the beginning—she’s never met two people who play fight as much as they do. She didn’t realise that they could argue and bicker constantly and not really mean any of it. She’s just never really...experienced that before.
Prior to them, the people in her life arguing always meant something infinitely worse. Zoey truly didn’t think that anyone could argue as much as they do and still be totally fine and normal after all of it, but somehow Mira and Rumi are managing. She’s mostly used to it. It doesn’t bother her nearly as much as it used to, probably because she knows them better. She knows what it looks like when they fight for real, and they’ve fought for real less and less since she’s been at the compound. She never really, like...said anything to them about it, but they must have figured it out. Or maybe they just naturally chilled out? Regardless, Zoey likes that they fight with each other less than they used to.
Now they just spend their time screwing with each other in increasingly creative ways. Zoey barely manages to get her hand on the zipper of her coat before she looks up and is met with the sight of Mira getting nailed right in the face with a snowball, and—where the hell even is Rumi? Zoey jogs out of the hanok, making sure to grab the keys before she closes the door, and peers around, and...oh, there she is. Up in a tree, obviously, because she’s crazy fast to the point that Zoey swears the honmoon has just given her some stupid stat boost, or something.
As she stands there, the wind blowing harshly against her face, Zoey can’t help but think that she probably has to like them more than they like her.
Which is fine! They don’t have to like her as much as she likes them, that’s, that’s never been something she’s ever, what, required? And it doesn’t even work like that anyway, so it’s...it’s fine. It’s totally fine. She doesn’t mind that they like each other more than they like her, because—well, they knew each other for way longer than they’ve known her. It only makes sense that Rumi and Mira are closer, they’ve literally been in each other’s life for longer than she’s been in either of theirs. And that’s fine! That’s completely okay. It makes sense. Obviously Rumi would be closer with Mira than she’d be with her, and obviously Mira would like Rumi more than her, and it’s...
Fine. It’s fine.
It’s...totally fine.
It still feels good when, after she shakes her head so hard half the snow falls from her hair, Mira turns to look at her and asks, “You coming, Zo?” only to get pelted in the face with another snowball. Before Zoey can even offer up an answer or go to help her, she spots Rumi leaping from the tree and bounding over with a stupid, crooked grin all over her face.
“C’mon, Zoey!” Rumi says with a laugh, eyes sparkling in the early morning sun. “You can sit up front if you want.”
That sentiment is really sweet, and Zoey is touched by it for about ten seconds before Mira dives at Rumi and grabs her by the legs, pulling her right back down into the snow before she starts pretending to strangle her.
Zoey still grins and laughs with them. She still stands there and watches them play around and she still thinks that she really, really likes them, but she can’t wholly shake off the feeling that it’s not good enough. That she’s not good enough. Because, well, if she was better or more like either of them, then wouldn’t they like her more? Wouldn’t they want her to be down there with them rather than waiting on them? Wouldn’t they ask her to join them? Wouldn’t they...
Zoey breathes out. In the time it takes her to clear her mind of all the howling, never-ending thoughts she can’t help but dredge up, Rumi and Mira have gotten back to their feet and seem less inclined to go through another round of whatever it was they were doing. They nudge each other the whole way to the car, and Zoey follows along after them, stepping in the bootprints they’ve left behind.
Yeah. No big deal at all.
“God, it’s freezing,” Zoey mutters under her breath. She squints up at the sky, all dark navy and deep grey. The sun isn’t even out yet.
“You never get used to it,” Mira says back in a huff. Zoey rolls her eyes, watching the way Mira scuffs at the ground and buries her hands further into her coat. She’s the only one between all three of them who’s fully bundled up, like, gloves and everything. Rumi told her a thousand times that she was going to get hot once they started running, but Mira just waved her off and pulled out a second pair of gloves, as if that wasn’t crazy ridiculous, but whatever.
Zoey thought it was cute. She thinks Mira would probably hate to hear that, because she does literally everything in her power to be the opposite of cute, but in doing that she kinda just loops around to being cute, so...Zoey can’t help that everything she does is weirdly endearing and sweet. Both her and Rumi are like that, especially with her. They’re definitely the nicest people she’s ever met in her life.
She’s still not totally used to that, or them. Zoey likes to think that she’s pretty good at working people out through her mind and getting to know them and all that they do and what they like, stuff like that, but she hasn’t completely managed to do that with either of them yet. She’s gotten close, she thinks. Like, she knows that Rumi has a huge affinity for being up high and prefers to take naps in awful, evil positions. Or how she knows that Mira is super picky about her clothes and outfits and that she likes to sit in the sun when she doesn’t have to do anything else.
She wonders how much they know about her. And it’s—it’s not really important, really, because it’s just super boring stuff that they wouldn’t even need to keep track of, not like how she does with them, but...maybe they do? Zoey tries to shake her head to clear those thoughts from her mind, because it really doesn’t matter. She’s gotten pretty good at ignoring the weird, sinking feeling in her stomach when she thinks too hard about how much she likes them and how they probably don’t like her as much even despite how nice they are to her. That doesn’t have to mean anything. They’re both super nice people, obviously they’re gonna be nice to her, duh.
She’s drawn from her thoughts when Rumi laughs from further out in the clearing; she’s the only one actually off the porch and has waded her way into the snow, arms stretched above her head as she twists to the side and beams at both of them. She was up first—she always is—and had breakfast ready for them when they woke up. Zoey totally should have realised that was a ploy, ‘cause now they’re outside at six in the fucking morning about to run laps for an hour or until they just die, or whatever. Since when did being a hunter require them to run laps for an hour? Demons don’t even really like to run! Like, yeah, sure, they’ll sometimes put up a chase, but that’s not—that isn’t this!
Zoey is pretty sure that Rumi just likes making them run laps. She doesn’t know what it says about her or Mira that they willingly do it just because Rumi told them they were going to, but it’s...what’s she going to do? Say no? Rumi has been a hunter pretty much since she was born, so if anyone knows what they’re doing, it would be her. And maybe Rumi is using that for evil, but...whatever. Zoey likes hanging out with them regardless, even if she’s also absolutely planning on kicking Rumi’s ass for this the next time they spar, because it does get to a point.
Until then, though, Zoey guesses she’ll run the stupid laps and get frostbite and die.
“It’s not that bad,” Rumi says. “It’s, what, maybe—?”
“It’s in the negatives,” Mira helpfully calls out with a scoff. “You’re such a dick, princess.”
Rumi snickers and ducks her head. Zoey has seen this about a thousand times; Mira is good at pushing and pushing and pushing until Rumi is forced to break a little, and she’s seen what that looks like when Mira is doing it with the intent to get a reaction, good or bad. These days, she usually only does it to make Rumi lighten up a little and not be so serious. It’s a skill that only Mira really seems to have with Rumi, because Zoey has tried, but it’s never really...it’s never really looked the same.
Rumi is nice and all, she’ll laugh at Zoey’s jokes and will smile at her, but...still. It’s different. Zoey can’t explain how it’s different, but it is, and that’s fine! It’s fine. She just likes being able to make Rumi laugh, even if it’s not the same as how Mira is able to make her laugh. So long as Rumi laughs at any of her jokes, really, she’s happy.
Zoey shudders standing there in the cold, going back to squinting up at the sky. She feels her whole body warm up almost immediately when Mira, completely unexpectedly, throws her arm over her shoulders and pulls her closer. Before Zoey can even say anything, Mira is muttering, “I don’t know why you thought you could go out in a jacket,” and is pushing at her face with a gloved hand.
Zoey giggles involuntarily and presses up to her tip-toes so she can grin right in Mira’s face. “Maybe Rumi’s right,” she offers, outright laughing at how that makes Mira screw her whole face up in what she could only describe as pure displeasure. “Okay, listen. Listen! It’s—it’s never been this cold back in Burbank! Or anywhere else I lived in California! Because, uh, y’know, it’s California? I’m not used to this! I don’t know how to handle it! I pretty much just figured snow was, like, I dunno, made up, or something!”
Mira makes a noise. “That can’t be true.”
“It’s totally true,” Zoey immediately disagrees. “Did you live in Burbank? Yeah, I didn’t—”
“Maybe I did,” Mira interrupts. It takes her a second to process what’s just been said to her, but by the time Zoey works the words through her mind, Mira is already pressing that second pair of gloves into her hands and is saying, “Uh, they’re probably too big for you, but...”
“What?” Zoey laughs, a little stunned. She wraps her whole fist around both gloves and raises her other hand, immediately planting it firm against Mira’s palm. She grins when Mira blinks and then scrunches up her face, decidedly looking away when it’s clear that the opposite is true, really. “Are you sure?” Zoey asks after a second. “I know you get cold, it’s—”
Mira huffs and pushes her back as she starts down the steps into the clearing. “Just take the stupid gloves, Zoey.”
Zoey is more than just a little stunned now, at a loss for words more than anything. Is it, like...actually fine? Is Mira just saying that to be nice? Because she definitely didn’t have to give Zoey her gloves, and, well, okay, was she actually gonna wear them in the first place? Probably not, right? For as cold as Mira gets, Zoey isn’t sure if she’s actually ever seen her double up on gloves before. She thinks Rumi would have probably made fun of her for that if she ever did, so...
She clears her throat and shakes her head, trying to snap herself out of her stupor. It takes another few seconds before she actually manages to get the gloves on her hands, swallowing thickly at how warm they are.
And then she turns just in time to watch Mira elbow Rumi in the arm; Rumi quickly elbows her back, and then they’re both bickering and laughing with each other, and Mira turns her head over her shoulder like she’s going to say something, and she...she gives Zoey sort of a look. Zoey doesn’t have enough time to even begin to attempt and decipher it before Mira inclines her head to the side and mouths, ‘are you coming?’ before she starts to screw with Rumi again.
Zoey breathes out. She curls her fingers to her palms, her heart jackrabbiting in her chest as she attempts to make sense of all that’s just happened to her. She feels beyond stupid when her face heats up, when she gets a little nervous and starts to shift from foot to foot like an idiot. She tries really, really hard to stamp it down, but the seal has already been broken, and a million thoughts surge up through her chest and spiral all throughout her body as she thinks about how warm Mira’s gloves are, how warm Mira makes her feel in general. And—and Rumi does the same for her. Rumi makes her warm, too. Even without the gloves.
She watches them shove each other back and forth. It must only be a few seconds in reality, but it feels like a thousand years stretched out in front of her. They both make her feel so warm, like she actually makes sense with two people rather than being some kind of outlier or freak or problem they’re stuck with ‘cause the honmoon decided she was meant to be a hunter, for some reason. They’ve always made her feel like that, really. She just figured it was probably a lot of nerves and excitement and awe at the whole situation, but once the novelty of that all wore off—she’s not really sure if it actually has worn off or not, but it’s a little easier for her to stomach without totally freaking out—she still felt warm and excited and in awe of both of them.
Like now, with Mira’s gloves too-tight against her fingers. They kind of smell like her, all warm vanilla like the perfume she uses the most and likes the best out of her whole collection. Should she even know that? Is that, like, weird of her to know? Mira giving her her gloves was totally normal and fine, and now Zoey is making it weird, and Rumi and Mira are already halfway out in the clearing and she’s still by the stupid hanok acting like an idiot because, what, Mira gave up her gloves?
Zoey shakes her head so hard it almost hurts. She tugs at her fingers as she jogs away from the hanok and closer to them. It’s hard not to bask in the warmth of Rumi’s wide, beaming grin, or the way Mira immediately looks over to her. All of it makes her head spin. They’re so...they’re such nice people, and Zoey really, really doesn’t want to fuck any of this up or lose them both. She knows they’re technically kind of bound at the soul, or whatever, but that doesn’t mean they have to like her if she’s too weird with them, and she’s really trying not to be, but she just...she likes them a lot.
Rumi takes point, like she always does. She guides them out away from the hanok and deeper into the compound, and then she takes off running midway through her conversation with Mira. Mira immediately yells after her and starts running too, and Zoey laughs under her breath and follows suit after both of them.
It’s hard not to feel like that’s all she’ll ever do. Maybe it would be better, though. It makes more sense. Mira and Rumi make sense together, they fit perfectly together even if neither of them would never admit it. Zoey has seen how they talk to each other and how they interact with one another, and everything about them just...makes sense.
She doesn’t think she fits. How could she fit between them when Rumi and Mira are already so perfect together? It’s not like they need her. Okay, well, maybe technically they do, on account of all three of them being hunters and all that, but what if the honmoon was wrong, or something? What if it picked wrong and Mira and Rumi are the only two hunters it actually needs, and it just screwed up with her? Or what if it decides that it doesn’t actually need her because Mira and Rumi are good enough and she can go back to Burbank and leave forever, sorry for the inconvenience!
Zoey tries to focus on the sharp sting against her face from the wind, but it’s never enough to dispel her from feeling the warmth that spreads from her hands all throughout her body. It’s not enough to keep her from intently listening to the way Rumi laughs, or how Mira groans and complains the whole time. It’s not enough to stop her from trailing behind them even though she could run faster if she wanted.
She wishes she could be like them. Maybe that would make them at least look at her the same way, too.
Zoey knows she was the one who technically ran away from home—was it really running away from home if her parents literally paid for the plane that she got on and knew she was going to Korea?—but she still can’t help but desperately miss Burbank the longer she stays in the cold.
There’s a part of her, one that she’s trying very hard to ignore, that keeps whispering about how things used to be easier. And that’s not even—that’s not even true! None of that is true. Back in Burbank, she was spending all her time outside her house. She didn’t care where she went or what she did so long as she didn’t have to go home and be around her parents. Jae helped a lot, and Zoey still feels bad about leaving without even telling him. He was the only person in her family who actually helped her get out of the house, but it’s not...Jae would understand. She knows her brother and she knows that he knows why she did it, but it doesn’t really make her feel less guilty about the whole thing.
Burbank wasn’t easier, but Burbank didn’t have Rumi or Mira. It’s not like she doesn’t want to be with them! That’s, like, the opposite of what she wants, really. The problem is that Zoey wants to be with them so much, more than anything, and she knows they don’t feel the same way about her. She knows they don’t want to spend all their time with her in the way she wants to spend all her time with them, and no matter how many times she tries to hammer it through her head that that’s okay, that they don’t have to like her as much as she likes them, she can’t help but get upset over it. And that’s ridiculous, and she knows that, and it’s just...she doesn’t know how to make it stop.
Being a whole continent away would help with that problem; it would also make a million and one other problems crop up and she knows that, but Zoey doesn’t know how to handle this. Like, fundamentally, she knows Rumi and Mira have to like her. Mira’s probably the most direct person Zoey’s ever met in her entire life, and Rumi is really sweet and nice, but Zoey’s seen the way she interacts with her and Mira and then how she interacts with people she’s just being polite to, and there’s a huge difference there. She hates how big of a deal she’s making this when it really shouldn’t be, and it...does it even matter? If Rumi and Mira like her, that should be enough.
But it’s not, and Zoey can’t convince herself that it’s ‘totally fine!’ and ‘completely cool and okay!’ anymore. She wants them to like her so badly that it aches, and she hates that this is another situation where she doesn’t fit in enough. She’s just out of place enough for it to be a problem.
Bitterly, Zoey almost wants to laugh about that. How is it that she’s so terrible at fitting in and not being enough that she can’t even be enough for this? Celine has been insistent that hunters come in trios, that there has to be three of them, that they can’t turn the honmoon gold without all three of them, and yet here she is, not enough! Never enough! And Rumi and Mira are so perfect together, they definitely don’t need her—not like how she needs them—and she’s just meant to be, what, super chill about it? She’s meant to act like it doesn’t make her miserable and that it’s not the most upsetting thing that’s ever happened to her?
Zoey can’t even pick a stupid side on how to feel, either, because she’s constantly swinging back and forth about being upset and then she’ll...and then she’ll look at them, really look at them and watch how they interact, and she can’t help but like it. She likes seeing them tease each other and mess around, she likes knowing that Rumi and Mira like each other and probably even love each other. It’s so hard for her to be mad at them when she’s busy feeling kind of breathless at the fact that they fit so perfectly together. She wonders if, once they debut, the whole world will notice that. She wonders if she’ll even really matter.
She doesn’t know how to make them like her more, or at least in the same way they like each other. She doesn’t know how to do any of that without coming across weird, and she’s been trying super hard to not act weird or make them think she’s a loser freak. Zoey thinks she’s doing an okay job of that, but then one of her jokes will fall flat or she’ll stumble over her words or she won’t shut up, and—
She wishes so badly she could be more like them. She wishes she could be more like them because then they’d look at her like how they look at each other, and she wouldn’t want to go back home, and hates how cold it is all the time, she doesn’t even like winter anymore, and she just, she wishes, she just wants...
Zoey just wants them to actually like her.
She sniffles, dabbing at her eyes when she starts to cry. She hates how stupid she is, hates how badly this is getting to her when she knows it shouldn’t be. She buries her face into her hands for a few seconds, trying to get herself together before she loses it completely and starts to sob. Zoey shudders. She raises her head, wincing when she ends up getting blinded by the light pouring in through the window. She doesn’t focus on that for too long—Rumi and Mira are outside.
Rumi likes the cold. Mira likes it way less, but she still goes outside when Rumi asks or begs her to. Would she do that if Zoey was the one asking? Probably not, she bitterly thinks. Why would she? She’s not Rumi. She doesn’t have the same kind of hold or pull or sway over Mira, not like Rumi does.
Zoey watches as they circle each other for a few seconds. Mira makes the first move, throwing up a snowball and summoning her gok-do in the split second the snowball is in the air. She slams her blade to the snow; it mostly shatters into a thousand little bits of snow, but some of it does get propelled forward, hitting Rumi square in the face. When Rumi turns to grab some snow from behind her, she suddenly pauses, and then she’s...
Oh, Zoey stupidly thinks, she’s looking at me.
She’s far away enough that there’s no way Rumi could see how red her eyes are, and she definitely can’t make out any real tears, but it doesn’t stop Zoey from feeling nervous about it regardless. She clears her throat and sniffles again before she puts on her best grin, right in time for Rumi to—
—Throw her hand up and wave, grinning so hard her face practically splits in two. She’s distracted for long enough that Mira nails her in the head with another snowball, but Rumi just shakes it off and beams even harder. She eventually turns and pivots to the side, clearly laughing as she dances away from Mira’s numerous strikes. Once Rumi races away to safely scoop up a handful of snow, Zoey watches as Mira takes her place. And just like Rumi, Mira turns toward the window.
Her smile is a lot softer. It’s not nearly as huge or wild as Rumi’s grin, but she’s still undeniably smiling, and then she...then she’s waving, too. She tips her head to the side, just a little, one eyebrow raised. It’s a clear-as-day question from her, to the point that Zoey can almost hear the ‘are you coming?’ in Mira’s voice.
Is she? Should she?
Zoey knows she’s not enough for them. She doesn’t know how to be enough, but she definitely knows that she’s not. She’s not like either of them, she’s not Rumi or Mira, she’s just—she’s her, and she knows that’s not good enough, but they’re so nice and they keep giving her hope even when they probably shouldn’t, ‘cause, really, it’d just be easier if they got it over with and ripped the bandaid off and told her point-blank that they didn’t like her the same for some reason or another, and at least then she wouldn’t have to drive herself insane with the maybes and the almosts and...
Zoey breathes out. She moves away from the window and dabs at her eyes again, wiping away her remaining tears with the back of her wrists. She clears her throat a thousand times until she gets the roughness out of her voice, and then she slides into her coat.
She still has Mira’s gloves. She put them in the pocket of her jacket and she was going to ask if Mira wanted them back, but then she never did even though she should have, and she’s just...kept them ever since. She knows that’s weird. She knows she should have given them back immediately, that she should still probably drop them off on Mira’s bed or something, but Zoey hasn’t.
She thumbs over the fabric for a solid minute before she shakes her head and snaps herself out of her stupor. She puts on her boots, makes sure to tuck her shirt into her pants to minimise the amount of snow-to-skin contact, and zips up her jacket.
When she gets out of the hanok and jogs into the clearing to stand by Mira and Rumi, Zoey doesn’t think she hates winter any less. She still wishes she was anyone else, that she was better for them, that she could be more like them. The noise in her head doesn’t die down enough for her to totally ignore it.
But it gets easier to stomach when Rumi asks her about what it used to be like back home. It gets easier when Mira makes an offhand comment about something Zoey told her about forever ago that she didn’t even think Mira heard, let alone remembered. She can’t take her eyes off of either of them, she doesn’t stop messing with Mira’s gloves in her pocket. Zoey doesn’t stop wishing she was more like them or someone else entirely, but she does feel a little less cold by the time they go back inside and Rumi insists on making them both something hot to drink to warm them up.
By the time she’s finished drinking the hot chocolate Rumi made for her, Zoey stops thinking about Burbank entirely.
And then it happens again.
And again.
And again.
And again.
She doesn’t start keeping track, not intentionally, but Zoey finds herself lingering by the window that looks out into the clearing directly in front of the hanok, and she can’t help but just...watch. She’ll watch Rumi and Mira run out the front door, she’ll see them shoving each other and elbowing each other as they make their way deeper into the compound, she watches as they laugh and she listens when they talk to each other, though she hears very little, and she can’t stop the howling storm in her mind that insists that she’ll never be good enough for them.
Because if she was, if she was good enough or even close to it, wouldn’t they ask her to come with them? Wouldn’t they want her out there, too? And, yeah, okay, if they catch her by the window they’ll make some kind of motion for her to join them. Rumi will wave and gesture for her, Mira will smile a little and then do that little incline of her head followed by her raising her eyebrow—and Zoey has noticed, actually, that she only ever raises her left, and she kind of wonders if Mira only knows how to raise her left, and also that’s super fucking weird of her to notice so she tries to forget she ever realised that at all—and it’s really sweet, but...is it what she wants? She likes it, she really likes it when they seem to want her with them, but...
It’s not the same. It’s not the same at all, is it? Because there’s a difference between them realising that she’s not there after they’ve already left versus them actively asking her to join them before they go. Zoey knows she’s not like them and that she’s weird and she, she knows that. She knows all of that. She’s always known that she’s not like everyone else even if she’s never been able to pinpoint what it is exactly that makes her so different and not enough, but she gets it. She hates being reminded of it even here, with the two people in her life who seem to be too nice to call her out for it. And she knows they’re actually nice and they’re not just pretending, which is...that’s something, right? That’s more than she’s ever had before. Rumi and Mira are more than she’s ever had, they’re more than she ever realised she could want.
But she’s not. She’s still not enough. She’s still not good enough, or maybe she’s too much? Maybe it’s a mix of the two? Like, Zoey thinks she’s maybe too loud, but then Rumi and Mira are just as loud as her, so maybe she’s doing it in the wrong way. Or—
Zoey groans and drops her head to the kitchen table. She winces when that results in her chin hitting the wood, throwing her arms over her head as she presses her nose harder against the table. Like always, Rumi and Mira are out of the hanok, but they didn’t even say anything before they left, which feels ten billion times worse and sucks a lot, and Zoey doesn’t even know what she did wrong. Did she even do something wrong? This is how it always goes, this is how it always happens, and she just...she doesn’t know what she’s doing.
She especially doesn’t know what she’s doing wrong when it comes to them. She knows that she doesn’t make Rumi laugh in the same way Mira does, and she’s not as good at figuring out what Mira’s feeling, not like Rumi, but neither of them have ever treated her the way people back home used to. Rumi still laughs at all of her jokes and she’ll smile and bump up against her, ‘cause that’s the only way she knows how to show affection; Mira still listens to her talk for way too long and she won’t interrupt, but she’ll ask questions and sometimes she’ll give Zoey stuff, like her gloves, which Zoey still has, like a freak.
They just seem like they actually like her, and then they go and do something like this, and Zoey just...she doesn’t get it. She doesn’t know what she’s done or how to make it stop, and she hates that she feels this way with them. They’ve both been so nice to her, they’ve always been really sweet and kind, and now what? It’s not even that they started being mean, or whatever. And it’s...it’s not like they have to tell her that they’re leaving, she’s not in charge of them, but it’s—
Zoey shoots straight up in her seat when she hears the front door open. She feels the harsh sting of the wind against her face for all of two seconds before the door is shut, and then she hears Rumi’s footsteps followed by Mira’s scoff, followed by the sound of Rumi nearly tripping and eating shit and dying when Mira totally shoves her. By the time Zoey gets any of her bearings and manages to actually look over to where they’re both at, she’s struck with the vision of Rumi crouching down to take off her shoes while Mira haphazardly balances on one foot and has her other leg awkwardly twisted up in the air as she attempts to take off her boots, her free hand planted against the wall in an attempt to steady herself.
Rumi’s using both hands to untie her shoes, but she has about a dozen bags wrapped around her arms alongside the backpack she almost always leaves with. Zoey feels beyond fucking weird for noticing that Rumi has Mira’s little purse wrapped around her other arm, mostly because, well, okay, it’s obviously Mira’s purse and it’s obviously right there on Rumi’s arm and there’s kinda no other way of looking at it, but she still feels like a creep and a weirdo and okay great now her mind is unhelpfully playing out a riff, and—
“Zoey!” Rumi calls out, raising her head just enough to flash her a wide, crooked grin. Her hair falls in her face just a little. Zoey can’t really take her eyes off her. “Hi! Did you eat yet? We brought back, uh, some food from that one cafe you like. Mira was gonna make lunch, too.”
“Yeah, ‘cause I knew you’d skip breakfast,” Mira adds. She casts a look over to Zoey’s direction that almost has her withering, but she’s struck by the fact that Mira just said—she...she would know? She knew? What? Why? “Come here, we have stuff for you.”
Rumi quickly makes a noise of dissent. “No, stay there, it’s wet and snowy over here.” She makes a show of hoisting her arms, bags and all, high up in the air so they don’t touch the floor. “I don’t want any of this to get wet.”
Mira snorts. “Yeah, whatever.”
“Don’t ‘yeah, whatever’ me, I’m being serious!”
“Okay, princess. I believe you.”
“Mira,” Rumi warns, but Zoey can see the way Rumi’s grin doesn’t falter for even a second, or how when she rolls her eyes she does it in such an obviously fond way that it’s clear she’s happy.
Rumi sighs and shakes her head, fully pushing herself back up to her feet. She makes her way over to the table, setting her dozens of bags in front of Zoey before she pauses. She gently sets Mira’s purse in her chair, and then she casually slides her backpack off her shoulders and tosses it out toward the door. Zoey doesn’t miss the way Mira immediately picks up Rumi’s backpack and hangs it up on the rack.
God, do they even realise how ridiculous it is when they both try and pretend like they don’t like each other? Zoey swears she’s never seen two people so perfectly in tune with each other even when they’re doing their best to act like they aren’t.
Mira comes into the kitchen a second later, winding around Zoey before she hesitates. Zoey nearly yelps when Mira suddenly drapes an arm over her head and leans over her, a sly smirk on her lips when she asks, “Your favourite colour is still teal, right?”
“Cyan,” Rumi corrects with a wave of her hand. “It’s more green.”
“That’s not true,” Mira immediately protests. “Teal is way more green than teal, you’re colourblind, shut up. Let Zoey open her bags.”
Rumi snickers. “Okay, but I’m right.”
“You’re not.”
“Anyway,” Rumi says. She grins at Zoey, all bright and sharp, and gestures out toward the bags. Mira still hasn’t moved her arm off of Zoey’s head, and Zoey decidedly hasn’t processed anything either of them have done within the last, what, three minutes? Something like that?
Zoey blinks at the same time she rapidly shakes her head back and forth, trying to gather her bearings. “Um,” she says, very succinctly. “What?”
Rumi’s grin drops into a far softer smile, her eyes crinkled at the sides. She settles in her chair, drumming her fingers against the table before she says, “Oh, you know! We, um, we went shopping!”
“Yup,” Mira agrees. She finally moves away, padding closer to the sink. Zoey winces when she yanks open the curtains and light floods the room more than it already had been. “We got, uh...we got stuff. Just open the bags.”
Zoey stares at said bags for what feels like an eternity before she manages to work out the thought process that she should open them like both Mira and Rumi have told her to do. She breathes out slowly before gingerly pulling them closer to her.
The first bag she opens must be what they got from the cafe. Zoey lets out a bark of laughter when she pulls out the chocolate latte followed by at least, bare minimum, ten yukjjok maneul-ppang, which she didn’t even...she doesn’t think she’s ever told Rumi or Mira that she loved those. Did she? Did she just forget? Like, yeah, she buys them every time they go out and they’re available, but that doesn’t mean anything. Right?
And then Rumi is giving her another one of those crooked grins, rapidly gesturing to the next bag. “Open that one next!”
Literally what is Zoey expected to do other than listen?
So she reaches out and ignores how her hands are trembling just a little, feeling her heart stutter in her chest at the sight of quite possibly the prettiest necklace she’s ever seen. Zoey is grabbing it so quickly she barely realises she’s moving it all, holding the sea glass turtle up to the light, watching as it sparkles and glimmers, and...
“Oh my god,” she whispers. She gently rests the necklace onto the table before she makes it weird and immediately bursts into tears.
Zoey doesn’t even get the chance to apologise or tell them that they’re good tears before Rumi is practically lunging across the table to grab her hands, rapidly thumbing across her knuckles as she rushes, “Do you not like it? I told Mira we should have gotten the one that was more cyan! But she said, she was so insistent because she sucks, and—”
“Rumi, oh my god, back off of her,” Mira says. Zoey doesn’t really process the semi-loud smack of Mira’s palm to Rumi’s forehead, but it clearly gets her to shut up. She definitely processes Mira’s hand on her shoulder, squeezing almost hesitantly. “Take a second. You’re okay.”
“Sorry,” Rumi sheepishly apologises. She doesn’t let go of Zoey’s hands. “We found him last while we were out. We wanted to get you something like that for a while, but nothing ever seemed right, you know? But he was at the very back of the shop in the light, like, he was pretty much glowing.” Rumi ducks her head and laughs. “It was like fate, I guess.”
Zoey sniffles. She tries to open her mouth to laugh or make some kind of comment, but all that comes out is a strangled sort of sob, so she snaps her jaw shut and decidedly doesn’t try again. She tries to focus on Rumi’s hands on her, on Mira’s hand on her shoulder, on how both of them are still there and they’re not rushing her or freaking out—other than Rumi for two seconds, but that’s okay—and how they just...
They got it for her. It’s so beautiful. She wants to tell them that so badly, but she doesn’t think she can speak without sounding like a total fucking idiot, and that’s if she manages to convey any actual words instead of just sounds, so Zoey sits there and cries and focuses on both of them. It’s—it’s so gorgeous, she can see the little turtle through her tears there on the table, catching the light and reflecting it all around them. The whole kitchen is practically lit up teal.
And god, Zoey thinks she might be in love with them. She thinks she has to be in love with them, and they’re both so nice to her, and they’re also kind of beyond ridiculous, because the turtle is absolutely teal, but Rumi was right—cyan is way more green than blue, and they’re just, they’re so...
Zoey swallows and tries to even out her breathing so she can actually relay any of that to them. She draws in a series of trembling breaths that don’t get her very far. She feels a little stuck in her own chest, but before she gets the chance to freak out about that at all, Mira is squeezing her shoulder again.
Zoey only has maybe a second to process that, and she has way less time to process Rumi tentatively adding, “Um, everything else in literally all of those bags is also for you, so if you need to take a break, um...” She sucks in a breath. “Maybe we can go through everything later.”
“N-no, I’m, I’m okay,” Zoey tries to get out. She doesn’t even need to be able to see to know that both of them are totally looking at her like she’s stupid, because it’s not exactly hard to hear the stupid tremble in her voice. “I-I just, no one’s ever, this is, um, it, it...” God, can she speak at all? Zoey breathes out harshly and attempts, “Thank you. Th-thank you, you guys, I really—”
“Take, like, five more seconds,” Mira gently urges. Zoey doesn’t think she’s ever heard Mira speak that softly to literally anyone, least of all her. She’s definitely never spoken to Rumi like this. “We can go through everything else after you eat. We got those last. They’re still warm. Or. Well. They should still be warm, but someone dropped that bag, like, five fucking times, and—”
“And guess who caught the bag all five times?” Rumi demands back, letting out an incredulous-sounding laugh. “They never touched the ground! I made sure—I made sure that the bag never hit the ground, ‘cause I’m literally just that good, and you—you wouldn’t even hold the bag! You made me do it!”
“You just kept taking them before I could!” Mira laughs back. “What was I supposed to go, beg you to let me carry something?”
“Like you’d ever beg,” Rumi scoffs.
Zoey can practically hear Mira’s stupid, sly smirk when she drawls out, “Well, I guess we’ll never find out now, huh? You lost that chance, princess.”
Rumi grumbles something that Zoey doesn’t quite make out, but she definitely hears her say, “Shut up,” loud and clear. And then Rumi gently squeezes her hands again and leans closer than she had been, staring at her with soft eyes. Zoey has to bite back her gasp of surprise when Rumi reaches out and brushes away some of her tears, hand lingering against her cheek for a little longer than strictly necessary, probably. “Are we helping at all?” she cautiously asks. “Or should we actually shut up?”
Everything you do helps, Zoey wants to say. She bites her lip on that front, though, because that’s probably a crazy thing to say and she doesn’t want to ruin anything that’s just happened to her in the last ten minutes. Has it even been ten minutes? Longer, maybe? It feels like Rumi and Mira came back to the hanok a whole lifetime ago. It feels like it’s been a thousand years since she pulled that little turtle necklace out of its bag and immediately broke down to tears.
She eventually manages to muster up a nod. It’s a little funny to see the way Rumi deflates, and while Zoey can’t see her, she hears Mira’s shaky exhale from beside her.
“Cool,” Rumi murmurs. “Cool, cool, cool. Um, like Mira said, we went to the cafe last. The turtle was second to last. And also Celine’s car wouldn’t start, so we were just standing out there for twenty minutes until she caught us and jumped it—which I know how to do now, by the way—so, uh, I’m sorry, because she’s totally going to make us run laps for that. But Mira said it’d be ‘totally fine’ to not go as early as I wanted, which clearly wasn’t true, and—”
“Because nothing would have been open if we went when you wanted to go!” Mira protests. “Are you fucking serious, Rumi? What stores are open at four in the morning? Literally none of them. None of them open that early, and if they do, they’re insane, and we’re not buying from them.”
Rumi just purses her lips and rolls her eyes. “It’s not my fault that you have a shitty sleep schedule, Mira.”
“Oh, and Zoey doesn’t?” Mira demands. Zoey can hear the teasing lilt in her voice, can practically see her wide grin in her mind’s eye. “Zoey goes into a coma every single time she falls asleep.”
“Yeah, but she can’t help that!” Rumi defends. “If she’s in a coma, that’s out of her control! Do you know who does have control over when she wakes up? Yup, uh-huh, it’s—”
“I’ll kill you,” Mira warns. “Right now. Right here. I will kill you.”
“I’ll kill you first,” Rumi immediately shoots back. “What’re you gonna do? Trip all over me? Actually, Zo, guess what? As soon as we got out of the cafe, Mira—”
“Shut up,” Mira interrupts. “Shut up. Shut up. Shut up.”
Rumi just presses on, “Mira tripped on a curb and nearly fell into the road and died. If I hadn’t heroically saved her, that’d be that. I think I’m kinda the best to ever do it.”
Zoey lets out a slightly less watery bark of laughter, dropping her head as she grins so hard it hurts. God, they’re so stupid. She immediately tramples down the thought that crops up about kissing them in favour of focusing on how much she likes them, of how much she really, really adores them both.
And...
And maybe, Zoey thinks, maybe they like her the same way. Maybe she was wrong. No one else has ever even come close to doing anything like this before. No one has ever even attempted. No one’s ever known how to help her when she gets like this, when she’s so overwhelmed she can barely speak or make an effort to. No one has ever talked her through it like Rumi, no one has ever touched her like Mira.
The turtle necklace glows in the sun. It’s just inches away from her, just like how Rumi and Mira are. They’re so close that she can barely stand it.
Zoey breathes out, laughing softly under her breath. “Thank you,” she whispers. She looks at Rumi, then cranes her neck over her shoulder to grin up at Mira. “Thank you so much. I love it. Um.” She clears her throat and sniffles, laughing again. God, she’s never been happier in her life. “Do you um, do you wanna eat with me? And then we can go through everything else?”
Mira lets out a hum of agreement. She moves away to sit at her spot at the table at the same time as Rumi swoops up the remaining bags into her arms and deposits them into the living room, on the coffee table. Rumi gets back into the kitchen when Mira asks, “Do you—uh. Uhm. Do you want, like, do you want me to put it...on?” she offers. “You can say no. Um, you don’t, like, have to, or whatever. You have...you have hands, you can do it yourself, I just—I figured I’d offer, I mean, it wouldn’t be that, like, um, it wouldn’t be a big deal. So. Just. Let me know.”
Zoey stares at her. Luckily for Mira, the noise in her head is enough to muffle Rumi’s genuine howling laughter from beside her, and—is Mira blushing, or has her face been this red the whole time? Probably the whole time, right? Because she was just outside in the cold, and she gets crazy red whenever they’re outside together, so it’s probably totally just the leftover cold and definitely not her blushing over the idea of putting a necklace on Zoey, because...
“Yeah,” Zoey says. She’s crazy proud of how her voice doesn’t crack obnoxiously despite how it absolutely should have. “Yeah, no, I’d...I’d like that. If that’s cool.”
“T-totally cool,” Mira quickly agrees. “Uh. After we eat.”
Rumi starts laughing even harder. “After we eat!” she cheerfully repeats. Zoey ducks her head and grins right after she catches Mira’s scathing, downright furious glare sent in her direction. “This is the latte you like, right?” Rumi asks. “I was pretty sure it was, but I just want to make sure. For next time.”
For—for next...?
Zoey feels nothing but absolute warmth coursing through her veins. It takes a grand amount of effort for her to raise her head and look at Rumi again, but in the end it doesn’t actually that nearly as much effort as expected, because Zoey loves to look at her and would arguably do it all the time. Or, well, maybe fifty percent of the time, ‘cause she wants to look at Mira all the time, too.
She grins, reaching out to thumb over the sea glass turtle.
“Yeah,” she whispers. “Yeah, it is.”
Zoey really can’t believe how much it snows here. She also can’t believe that Rumi has managed to convince Mira to go out into a literal snowstorm, but it’s not like she can say very much, given how she’s two seconds from putting on her coat and going out the door.
Her new coat. Mira apparently took issue with her old one and bought this new one for her. It’s a thousand times heavier and infinitely softer, and Zoey practically is swimming in it, but she’s not complaining. She would wear it literally every single day of her life if she wouldn’t overheat and die.
She figures she’s compromising well enough by wearing the turtle necklace they got her. She hasn’t taken that off even once since Rumi and Mira brought it back home for her, since Mira put it on her. Zoey still can’t believe she did that, and she can’t...god, she barely survived any of that encounter. It was only a little more bearable getting to watch Rumi grin progressively harder and harder the longer Mira fumbled with the clasp and failed to get the necklace around Zoey’s neck, but even that made Zoey feel like she was going to explode with how hot her face was getting over the fact that Rumi was grinning at both of them like that.
They managed in the end, though! And so help her god, Zoey is not taking that fucking necklace off even if it’s a life or death scenario, she’d genuinely actually for real rather die than ever take off this necklace. Maybe she could be coaxed into doing that if Rumi promised to put it back on her. Maybe. That isn’t something she thinks she’ll have to worry about for a while, though.
It’s been about two weeks since they brought her back the turtle necklace and a dozen other things—that new coat, a new pair of earbuds and a matching case with a set of sparkly stickers that Zoey remembers mentioning offhandedly months ago, the most pathetic looking shark stuffed animal that Rumi loves more than she does, and little fish converse charms that Mira has been very obviously trying not to take back.
Zoey loves them so much it has her head spinning near-constantly.
She doesn’t feel even a little bad that they’re both outside first. It’s early, she wanted to stay in for a few minutes longer, because she knew as soon as she went out, she’d be there for the rest of the day. They promised they’d wait for her right out in the clearing and wouldn’t go farther than that. Really, Zoey thinks, that’s all the confirmation she needs that they both like her.
She grins a little to herself as she finally gets her coat on. She pauses right as she crouches down to grab her boots, reaching up to mess with the turtle necklace. She doesn’t think she’s stopped touching it ever since Mira put it on her. She knows she probably shouldn’t mess with it too much, but...whatever. Zoey manages to get her boots on with one hand, stubbornly holding onto that godforsaken turtle, and springs back up to her feet a minute later.
She spares one last look at Rumi and Mira through the window. She snorts when Rumi instantly slams Mira in the face with a snowball, and she can hear Mira’s irritated scoff followed by her very creative threats about what she plans on doing to Rumi.
They’re so...unbelievable. Zoey can’t wait to spend the rest of her life with them.
Zoey opens the door and stumbles out into the cold. The wind bites at her cheeks, but she’s distracted from the chill immediately once Rumi yells out, “Zoey!” while Mira just turns on her heels and waves at her with a soft smile on her face. That only lasts for another two seconds or so before Rumi nails her in the face again, and then they’re going at it like rabid squirrels.
Zoey breaks out into laughter and rolls her eyes, jogging over to meet them. They kept their promise—they didn’t go very far at all.
So maybe she was...wrong. Maybe she was wrong about them not liking her as much as she likes them. The more time she spends looking at them and watching them, really going over how they interact with each other and how they interact with her, Zoey is realising that it’s effectively the same. It’s technically different—Rumi and Mira like to get physical with each other way more than they do with her—but it’s ultimately the same. It all stems from the same place, is what she means. Rumi and Mira play fight with each other all the time because they love each other and that’s how they express that. They’ve had more time to get to know each other, they’ve had longer to understand each other, how to better read one another.
With her, they like to buy her things. Mira likes to cook for her, Rumi likes bringing her whatever she needs. Zoey is realising now that Mira explicitly keeps avoiding even the mere mention of her gloves because she wants Zoey to have them without having to say all of that. Rumi waves at her from outside and bounces on her heels because she’s desperately trying to convey that they should hang out without outright saying it, which...okay, maybe she should have figured all of that out sooner, she’s just—no one else has ever been like that for her! No one’s ever actually wanted her around!
Not like Rumi and Mira.
Zoey wraps one of her arms into Rumi’s, grabbing Mira’s hand with her other. She gets right in the middle of them, and she swears she can’t feel the cold at all once they lean into her, too. For all she cares, they could be in the middle of a blizzard and Zoey doesn’t think she’d even so much as notice.
She can’t take her eyes off of them. She can’t look away from the red on Mira’s cheeks or the sparkle in Rumi’s eyes.
Zoey thinks she might have to reconsider her feelings about winter. Maybe she doesn’t mind it nearly as much as she thought she did. Maybe it’s not actually that bad. Maybe, maybe, maybe.
And maybe—instead of convincing herself that it must be some sort of mistake, that they can’t possibly want her in the same way she wants them—the way Mira looks at her means something more. Maybe the way Rumi holds onto her tighter, like she’s afraid of letting go, means something more.
Zoey can’t be certain of any of that, but she’s certain that, despite everything else, she doesn’t have to worry about them liking her or not.
Zoey smiles and holds onto Mira and Rumi a little tighter. The turtle charm stays warm against her chest.