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Mira rested against the multiple cushions and pillows on her bed. She was placidly watching a compilation of their best performances on her phone, trying to get inspired as to what to bring next into their choreography. Something new, something exciting, something only the three of them could bring to life.
That was partially why Mira was so good at her craft, because she knew how to read people, especially Zoey and Rumi. She knew what moves fitted them best, when to throw the spotlight their way and when to give them a moment to catch their breath between sequences. Even if they were all performing the same steps, they all interpreted into their own bodies and the mismatched uniformity was something that made it beautiful. A chaotic harmony.
It resembled the way they fought side by side. If there was an opening one would take it while the other watched her back, if one needed to retreat, another would jump in front to take her place. When one moved, the others followed in tandem. Simple as that. One, two, three beats, all following the same pulse; the same heart.
If nothing else, Mira could thank her upbringing for making her that observant. She had always needed to read between the lines, knowing when a disguised frown was being shot her way in public, recognizing which tic, hand movements and tones meant to give a warning, sounding on silent alarms she learned how to avoid—until she decided to face them upfront, defying them instead of tiptoeing around them. That’s also why she was the most confrontational of the three, because subtleties vexed her. She grew up in a house of pretenses, so she rather get a straight up answer than a dance of avoidance.
Zoey was more of a mediator. She knew how to make everyone feel heard without taking sides. She could deescalate almost any situation, even at her own expense. She was the most accommodating, to a fault. It was one of Bobby’s main concerns regarding the young rapper during meet and greets, especially after a particular time when a fan had been too eager, too loud and leaning too close, to the point half their body was over the table and their face just inches away from hers. Zoey had been so amicable it was getting out of hand, so the manager had called for an impromptu break for them to go backstage. Zoey had insisted it was all under control, but none of them felt comfortable letting the interaction continue –not that they doubted she could fend for herself, she was the fastest of the three, not only singing-wise, but in battle. No one would have put a hand on her without her consent, but sometimes her eagerness to please pushed her to put up with things she shouldn’t have to.
Rumi was guarded. She kept her beliefs close to her chest and her words laced tight. At least before. Nowadays she made a conscious effort to bring her walls down, but it was evident she was cautious about it, as if fearing that is she let all those barriers down at once then everything would overflow, and she’d crumble. Years of bottled-up emotions were difficult to navigate, after all. It was a challenge to unlearn when silence was violent and when it was a peaceful pause.
Mira never bottled anything, she’d let the cork pop for her words to rain down, regardless of who would hear them. During their earliest days as public figures, Bobby went as far as to censor some of her comments on podcasts or TV appearances; needless to say, Mira didn’t care for it, so they doubled down and embraced that part of her personality, which had been graciously -if not eagerly- embraced by a numerous group of fans.
Rumi though? Sometimes it felt like she was still trying to find her own voice; without the cracks, without the lies. Sometimes it was strong enough to echo through the whole Honmoon, others it got lost under her breath, but at least she was speaking her mind, easing Mira’s attempts to figure out what thought was running through her head. Still, some days, Rumi just caught her by surprise, unable to read the open book in front of her, as if the words were there for her to read but they were written on invisible ink.
And that’s how she announced herself that night. Openly vulnerable yet hiding behind a genuine smile.
“Hey” Rumi called from the entrance of Mira’s room. The door had been ajar, so Rumi ventured to sneak her head in, “Can I come in?”
Mira gazed up at her, noticing the other girl was also in her pajamas and probably had already been in bed judging by how her always perfect braid had a few loose strands.
“Sure” Mira put her phone down, following her with her eyes until Rumi climbed the bed, settling on her left side, folding her arms neatly before herself to then rest her head over Mira’s shoulder, sighing wordlessly.
Those little moments of closeness had become easier with time. Before, there was always a door or a wall between them; In the dressing room, in the hotels during tours, in their own home. But now the space was shared, to the fullest extent of the word. It was magnetic, a pull drawing them all in. They fitted into each other’s lives and routines with such ease it felt fulfilling.
When Zoey was immersed in her writing, there was always a shoulder pressed to hers, offering nothing other than quiet companionship. When Mira went to the balcony to read a book or a magazine, a cup of her favorite tea would reach her hand when the wind started to howl and the sun set on the horizon. When Rumi closed her eyes during a movie night, there would always be an arm wrapping around her to anchor her to the moment, reassuring her she wasn’t alone.
So, Rumi cuddling next to her wasn’t foreign, it was welcomed, but the half-demon had never entered her room to do so. It wasn’t neutral territory, sort of speak. It was Mira’s domain in the sense it was her space, her rules, her corner of the world. So, Rumi being there was both an incredible show of trust and at the same time nothing short of alarming, because there must have been a reason for her to look for Mira.
Still, the purple-haired girl didn’t utter a word, her eyes just fluttered shut, keeping herself from touching Mira other than the point of contact of her temple against her shoulder.
Mira gazed curiously at her, she couldn’t outright say something was wrong, but there was a slight tension between Rumi’s brows, “You okay?”
Rumi kept quiet, her frown deepening for a second, having an inner dialogue she wasn’t quite ready to share, “Just need your company for a second” she decided to say, and Mira tilted her head, her chest tightening. It had been cryptic; it had been honest.
“Okay” she mumbled back, unable to keep her eyes away from her, trying to decipher her. It was almost as frustrating as before not to be able to tell when something was wrong with her, because at least now Rumi didn’t mean to be secretive, she just couldn’t navigate through the knots in her throat and that was somehow worse, because she was reaching out and Mira didn’t know how to take her hand.
So, the silence stretched, and Mira could do nothing more than to literally be there for her; motionless. Rumi had been deliberate when she settled next to her, she had kept her arms around herself instead of taking her arm as Zoey would have. If she had wanted comfort, she would have wrapped her arm around Mira’s middle. She had said it up front; she needed her company. So, Mira provided.
It was perhaps seven minutes later when Rumi’s lips finally parted and the breath that had been caught in her throat was exhaled into Mira’s skin. Her eyes opened halfway, her hand pressing more firmly into her own bicep. “I…I have to make a decision” she finally shared before her mouth dried and she had to cut herself out to swallow, “I-I…need you to have my back” she all but begged, and Mira understood something fundamental. Rumi was literally leaning on her. She needed her to be the pillar because she didn’t know if she could hold herself up.
So Mira adjusted her position, lacing an arm around Rumi, her hand sliding under the fabric to touch the skin on her back, to the patterns she knew by heart, the ones that welcomed her with a pulse of light, as if greeting her home once more. The touch grounded Rumi, finally letting her settle into her own skin, draining the tension from her shoulders at the notion of having someone holding her, keeping her from crumbling down.
“Always” Mira said, and Rumi finally tilted her head up, meeting her eyes.
“Celine is coming to visit.”
Mira’s hand tensed and Rumi’s muscles reacted the same way under her touch, so the taller girl had to remind herself Rumi needed her to be the strong one, so she couldn’t react with anger or hurt. So, she rubbed soothing circles on her back, prompting her to continue.
“You talked to Celine?”
Rumi shook her head, “Bobby received a message from her” her sight dropped “I’m…I’m not sure I’m ready to see her again” she pressed her nails deeper into her flesh and Mira feared she might draw blood.
The unspoken reason weighted in the room. When Rumi had shared that last secret -the unthinkable request she had begged Celine to grant- it had shattered something precious, but they had been able to rebuild from those broken pieces. But Celine’s presence felt like a glooming shadow that threatened to block the sun that had been shining over them.
“Do you want to?” Mira asked directly “Do you need to?”
“I don’t know what I’d say” her voice quivered “she will come regardless, I just…I don’t know if I should be there because I’m…I’m tired of running” her patterns stressed in a light that felt too soft, too hurt “Running from her judgment and running into her arms, because I… I miss her” the admission came unexpectedly “For so long it was just the two of us, she was the only person that truly knew me and yet the only one that made me hide. She’d keep me at arm’s reach, but when she slipped and I could crawl into the cracks, she’d tell me stories about my mom, of how wonderful she was” she inhaled sharply “and the way Celine smiled when talking about her, how her face came to life and her eyes would lit up, it…it made me yearn she’d would wear that same expression when talking about me, when seeing me and not whatever promise she made her. I wanted Celine to make me feel I was my mother’s daughter, not her sin” the tears started to roll “I just could never be what she expected of me and now I know for certain it will never come to be” her eyes shut tight “so why do I still yearn for her to love me?”
Mira’s arms wrapped her against her chest the moment Rumi felt like she was going to fall apart. The hold was so tight Rumi could hear her own heartbeat bouncing back to her ears against Mira’s skin; it sounded broken. The sob ripped through Rumi’s chest, tearing away at her heart as Mira provided shelter for her to let it all out. She’d stand tall so Rumi could finally break down.
She cradled her, one arm firmly laced over her back, pressing her against her body while one hand gently held her nape, running her thumb up and down, easing the way the words had burned her throat. The patterns flickered with each gasp of air, and Mira felt each tremble shaking her to the core, each ragged breath hitting her skin like a blaze of fire she wished she could appease.
Mira wanted to assure her she hadn’t failed Celine, but the other way around. She wanted to curse out the woman, fight her, make her feel the hurt she had inflicted on Rumi, but that was not what the girl in her arms needed, she had been earnest when she walked through her door, she needed her to be there. “I’ve got you” Mira said, running a hand up and down her back while the other tangled into her braid. “I’m here with you, Rumi” she whispered into her hair. “I’m here for you” she emphasized “We love you. All of you. Every single part. The bright and the broken.”
Rumi cried harder against her chest, clenching into the fabric of Mira’s pajamas, hiding under the crook of her neck. Was it so hard to believe or was it just too foreign for her to hear those words?
“Girls?” Zoey’s voice softly called from the door, her eyes were akin to those of a deer. Rumi hadn’t heard her over her own sobs, but Mira met her eyes and nodded for her to come into the familiar room. The younger woman reached the bed, gently piecing herself behind Rumi, fitting there as if the space had just been waiting for her to take her place. She wrapped an arm around Rumi’s stomach, pressing her close to her as she rested her chin over her shoulder. Rumi opened her eyes, fully realizing Zoey was there and unclenched a hand form the fabric to intertwine it with the one holding her middle.
Zoey didn’t need an explanation as to what had transpired there, she just knew she was right where she needed to be. She closed her eyes, feeling every bit of Rumi’s pain as her own and the urge to ease it made everything in her ache. She began to hum softly, gently emitting a sweet vibration that caressed Rumi’s exposed shoulder. She adjusted herself a bit higher to despite her height, be able to encompass her completely as the soothing hum began to lure Rumi away from the tormented sea of tears, calling her like a siren’s lullaby.
Zoey didn’t coax her to stop, she didn’t mean to keep Rumi from expressing her pain, she just offered something to go home to whenever the tears had run out. Providing the promise that when she opened her eyes again she wouldn’t be in the same dark place as before. And that’s exactly what happened. Rumi felt that armor softly pressing her, making her feel again -feel something other than suffering. That was Zoey’s core, when she hugged her, the outside world didn’t matter. When Mira held her, then she didn’t have to fear the fall. They were her family, and she was safe inside the home they built with her arms.
Eventually Rumi’s breathing began to settle, the patterns fading into the dimly lighted room. She felt exhausted. More so than any other day in her life: more than when training to become a hunter, more than during the aftermath of defeating Gwi-Ma. This was something she had been dragging like chains for years. Every muscle hurt from all the contractions, her eyes stinged like hot iron, her strength was gone physically and emotionally. She was drained. She was empty. And for the first time, the thought that maybe she could be filled again with something other than hurt, blossomed.
Her eyes tiredly gazed up, finding Mira’s face holding a soft look, she ventured to glance to the side where Zoey kept on humming for her, noticing the well-concealed worry she was trying not to articulate.
Rumi wanted to say something, but she couldn’t bring herself to “I’m-” her voice died down, raw and frail after having shred every vocal cord.
“It’s okay, Rumi” Mira said, pressing her forehead against her head’s crown.
“You can rest” Zoey said, running her thumb across Rumi’s ribs, tracing a pattern she knew all too well “we’ll be here when you wake up.”
Rumi’s eyes shimmered with a glow so pure, it hurt a little to witness it. As if the thought alone was something she wouldn’t allow herself to crave for.
“Whatever you need, whatever you decide, we’ll be with you every step of the way.”
Zoey didn’t need to know more before nodding along, pressing her a little tighter. “For now, let us stay here. We’ll make sure you are safe, so you can close your eyes.”
Rumi frailly smiled, her eyelids fighting to stay open long enough for her to say something that didn’t come to be. Her body gave into the exhaustion and whatever tension was left finally melted away as her figure went limp and the two sets of arms held her closer.
That night had been peaceful and chaotic. Rumi fell into a sleep so deep her patterns turned a shade of lilac they’ve never seen. That’s when the whispers echoed in the room at wee hours, as Mira shared what had happened. What Rumi had said. What Celine had made her feel.
The younger woman had clenched her jaw as her eyes watered. She pressed a kiss over Rumi’s shoulder and gazed into Mira’s eyes with the same resolve the dancer held.
“Celine’s never hurting her again” she mumbled into the night.
“But Rumi needs to heal first.”
And that had been the real struggle. Because they knew that Rumi still needed Celine in a way that went beyond reason and understanding. She was the closest thing to Rumi’s actual mother and the bond that had tied them together, broken and messed up as it was, was still the only one that Rumi could hold onto to keep her memory alive. And the same could be said for Celine.
The hours passed them by. Sleep eluded them until both felt reassured enough that the woman between them wouldn’t go anywhere. Still, they woke up at odd hours making sure that their arms still were holding her there, cuddled in a fortress of their affection.
By the time it was Rumi’s turn to open her eyes, the sun had already walked inside the room through a gap in the curtains. Her eyelids opened slowly, her thought still lost inside the fog of the oneiric until she attempted to move and felt every point of contact in her body. Her legs were messily entangled between four others; her right hand was holding another while the left rested against her own chest. A warm breath was tingling her clavicle as Zoey’s face was pressed against her shoulder blade, snuggled into her back while Mira’s steady heartbeat was mumbling directly into her ear.
They were there. Encompassing her. There was not a part of her that wasn’t being cradled. She felt safe. She felt vulnerable. She felt loved. She closed her eyes, holding onto every part of them, resting into the sensation.
She smiled to herself, letting a single tear roll down before inhaling deeply and sighing slowly.
“You up?” Mira’s drowsy voice called in a mumble.
Rumi nodded in return, not wanting to disturb the moment, but by the way Zoey pressed tighter, rubbing her face against her back like a cat trying to block out the sun, she knew she was at least half awake too.
“You both stayed” Rumi whispered. Not a question, not quite an observation either.
“Of course we did” Mira said, leaning back just enough to meet her eyes.
“We told you we would” Zoey added sleepily, resting her chin over her shoulder to be properly heard.
Rumi just smiled, her left arm reaching behind her to touch Zoey’s cheek while her right graced Mira’s “Thank you.”
Zoey leaned into the touch, while Mira grabbed her hand in return. The peaceful moment existed before the reason behind it made itself present in their thoughts.
“Rumi” Zoey called gently “what do you need?”
How effortlessly she offered her support made Rumi’s throat knot. She wasn’t used to being someone’s priority the way she was Zoey and Mira’s.
“This helps” she said, knowing there was more to be addressed, “Celine is visiting” her voice faded.
Zoey nodded almost apologetically, “I know.” She started running a finger over the patterns. It had grown into a habit -or rather a ritual. Sometimes, Zoey would follow with her index after the light running through Rumi’s patterns, and others, the glow would only come to live where Zoey had touched. It was curious. It was intimate. It was theirs. It didn’t need an explanation, and no one was expecting one. “Are you ready to see her?”
Rumi exhaled, she didn’t want to let go, but she rolled to be face up, fully able to look both in the eyes and be seen in return. She wasn’t about to shy away from them now, not after they’d stayed by her side. But the other two just readjusted their hold, not letting go for even a moment.
Rumi rested her hands over the ones holding her, trying to anchor herself and find the words. “I…I don’t…want to” she bit her lower lip, the words there, hesitant to take the jump, “I don’t want to disappoint you” she finally said, holding her breath, waiting for them to flinch, but the blow never came.
“Last night you came here already having made a decision” Mira said softly “you want to see her.”
Rumi swallowed thickly “It’s stupid, isn’t it? I should cut her off my life, I shouldn’t want her near, but—”
“But how do you even turn those feelings off, right?” Zoey said gently, not meeting their eyes, “she’s your parent” she shrugged her shoulders defeatedly “She’ll always have that place in your life, even if she messed up, she’s still the first person you learned to rely on” she finally gazed up, her eyes shimmering with something that looked dangerously close to tears “that’s the thing about parents, your first instinct is still look for them after you get hurt. Even if they are the ones who hurt you.”
Rumi nodded in return, sharing an understanding Mira couldn’t sympathize with.
“If you need to see her to have closure or work through—” Mira couldn’t bring herself to name it. The moment where a line could have been crossed. Where Rumi could have died at Celine’s hand because they had pushed Rumi to her lowest “we’ll be there” she said instead “but remember, we know the truth now” she held her tighter, “we won’t give her a free pass anymore. We know what her presence in the apartment meant now. She kept you from reaching out once, no way in Gwi-Ma’s hell we’ll let her isolate you again. If she crosses that line, we’ll have Bobby straight up ban her from ever seeing you again.”
Rumi chuckled despite herself because otherwise she’d probably cry all over.
“We mean it” Zoey said, “the moment we see any trace of fear or hurt, we cut her out” Rumi understood how fully she meant it, because Celine was one of Zoey’s idols as a member of the Sunlight Sisters and now, the mediator of the team was not about to negotiate regarding that, “so you have to let us know when enough is enough.”
“Of course,” Rumi turned to her, smiling softly “I’m a walking mood ring, remember? Nowhere to hide” she pressed her cheek over her forehead and Zoey exhaled a laugh.
The day came, unannounced int their calendars but still heavily marked on the air they were breathing, a quiet expectation.
Bobby had arranged the meeting per the girls’ request. It couldn’t be in a public place because what they needed to talk about wasn’t something anyone else was meant to know or understand. So, Bobby hired a catering service to bring a proper meal that was left inside their penthouse. If the reunion had to happen at least it was going to be on their terms, in their territory.
Bobby didn’t have the full picture, but he could feel the tension, read between the lines and generally understand that it was not a social visit.
“Celine’s car just pulled up” he said, “her driver mentioned she doesn’t have a reservation at any hotel, so I don’t think she intends to stay the night, it’s just a quick check in.”
“Thank you, Bobby” Mira said, her arms folded, her eyes fixed on the elevator doors with unwarranted intensity.
“Call me if you need anything, girls. Anything.” He stressed, “I just want to make sure you know you don’t have to go back on tour just yet, there’s no reason to shorten your hiatus. You deserve your rest.”
“Don’t worry, Celine is not about to force us to do anything we don’t want to” Mira answered, the connotation heavy but not explicit.
Bobby stared at Mira’s decisive gawk, Rumi’s unsure look and Zoey’s apprehensive glance. Nothing about that gave him peace of mind, but he was not there to demand an explanation. “All right then” he mumbled, heading for the exit.
“One last thing, actually” Mira called after him, “Celine’s full access to the penthouse?”
“Yeah?”
“Revoke it. She has taken it for granted. She’ll have to ask before walking into our lives.”
Bobby noticed how Zoey immediately held Rumi’s hand and the way the taller dancer was stepping in front of both like a shield. He didn’t need any context to understand what that request meant. “You got it.”
The moment between Bobby’s departure and Celine’s arrival felt eternal. But then, the elevator rang, and the wait was over as the doors slid open. Everything became a blur for Rumi from the moment Celine’s eyes landed on hers and drifted to the patterns. She wasn’t sure if she had uttered a single word and didn’t register anything anyone else said. She just knew they were suddenly sitting across from her with all the catering food between them. Her eyes hadn’t left those of Celine, but the woman hadn’t looked back since that first glance.
Rumi’s mind took her hostage. Back to that night, to that plea, to that moment of weakness. Her hands started to sweat, and her pulse quickened. Her mouth dried while her breathing got slightly jagged. Rumi had wanted Celine there, right? So why was her body reacting like that? Why was she feeling overwhelmingly hot while a shiver ran down her spine?
She swallowed hard trying to focus, she could see their lips moving but they were just making incoherent sounds. Rumi tried to force herself to be in the moment, to concentrate, to talk, to heal, but her heartbeat was doubling its efforts, pulsing in her eardrums in full force. She knew this feeling, she could remember being prey to it before and she finally recognized it for what it was. Fear.
“…okay, Rumi?”
The half-demon snapped out of her realization, turning sharply towards the source of her name, finding Zoey’s expression ridden with worry.
“Wh-what?” Rumi asked completely lost as to what the conversation was about.
That’s when Zoey placed a hand over her leg, pressing tightly. The sensation on her skin managed to anchor her. She wasn’t alone, she had them. She would never have to go back to that plea, to that desperate cry to end it all. That’s when it hit Rumi. She wasn’t seeing Celine, she was seeing her judgment as the final one.
“Are you okay?” Mira repeated what Zoey had asked and the purple-haired girl found herself at a loss. She dropped her eyes down at herself, finding the patterns were a deep and unsettling shade of purple. The same color she had displayed when she met Celine after the Idol Awards. She hugged herself, not sure if concealing the patterns or trying to keep herself together, but the abrupt movement made her notice how her nails were turning claw-like, piercing through her skin. She didn’t wince, if anything, the little pinch of pain managed to send a signal for her body to wake up and unfreeze.
“I-I need a minute” Rumi said, standing up in a jolt, her posture hunched forward in a protective manner, her patterns in full display and a glimmering touch of golden on her eye. The half-demon didn’t wait for an of them to answer, she just needed to get out of there; away from Celine’s gaze to remind herself who she was when the woman wasn’t looking.
Zoey was already in Rumi’s pursuit when Mira caught her wrist, searching for her eyes. “Give her a moment” she whispered “we’ll check on her when she’s got a chance to settle.”
“Is that normal? Celine’s voice echoed in the room, and both turned to her with something raw in their expressions.
“Normal? Yes.” Mira said, “Usual? No. But if you call someone a monster enough times, they start to believe it.”
Celine exhaled, pinching the bridge of her nose, “I’ll talk to her” she was halfway up when Mira shot her a dangerous look.
“Sit. We have a lot to talk about first.” Celine’s brow furrowed in a concealed way, and just how similar of a gesture it was to Rumi’s made something in Mira ache at the learned behavior.
“Regarding what?” Celine asked, her tone centered. Not polite, not confrontational, just pointed.
“How about we start with you never telling us the truth?” Mira leaned to the front, resting her elbows on her knees, defiantly.
“Would either one of you have agreed to join Huntrix if I’ve said you’d be fighting alongside what you vowed to destroy? You’d never built the trust needed to face what you did.”
“As opposed to us finding out years later? Feeling betrayed and deceived?”
Celine shut her eyes tight, taking a deep breath “You were not meant to find out.”
“That doesn’t make it better” Mira said through gritted teeth “and in case you haven’t noticed, we restored the Honmoon and the patterns didn’t fade away” she gazed at her with something close to hatred “and just what made you so confident they would? What if the Honmoon had sealed Rumi too? You were willing to sacrifice her?”
“The Honmoon wouldn’t have taken her away, she’s her mother’s daughter, a hunter.”
“Yeah, and her father was a demon. She’s both. You don’t get to pick and choose which parts to love and what can be expendable. You took that chance without any regard for her life!” she stood up towering over the imposing figure that had been her mentor, “what the hell is wrong with you?!”
Celine stood up slowly, meeting her gaze. “You don’t know the sacrifices I had to make. You don’t get to judge my decisions.”
“Of course, since you have a monopoly on all judgment.”
“I didn’t come here to justify my actions.”
“Then why?” Mira challenged, “Why are you here? After everything that has happened, what gives you the right to just show up?”
Celine’s fist tightened, “The Honmoon still—”
“Don’t you dare use that as an excuse” Mira warned coldly, “It might not be golden, but it’s restored, no thanks to you” Mira’s breathing quickened, “and make no mistake, no thanks to us either” Mira felt Zoey’s hand on her own as the younger girl stood next to her.
“We know that Rumi went to see you because we pushed her to do so. We turned our backs, we raised our weapons and broke her trust. We broke her” Zoey swallowed the salty admission “and we know what she asked of you.”
Celine flinched, her face showing genuine pain. “Then you know I would never hurt her.”
“I pointed my woldo directly at her heart” Mira said, every word weighting on her tongue, dripping with guilt, “I saw a demon instead of my friend” her eyes reddened “and even then, she knew I couldn’t do it. So, she turned to you. Just what does that says to you?” she felt her heart beating heavily against her chest, “You hurt her plenty, enough for her to actually believe you could take her life, Celine.”
“But I didn’t, I would never!” the woman’s voice quivered.
“Are we supposed to thank you for not killing your daughter?” Mira challenged, taking a step closer that Celine counter with one of her own.
“She’s not my daughter!”
“Then whose?!” Mira fired back, looking down on her, “the only thing she ever had was you, she never knew her mother like you did. And you- you made her feel like she owed you and the rest of the world something just for being born! That she couldn’t ask for anything in return because she had stolen her from you! She felt shame and hatred and you couldn’t –” Mira shook her head sharply, unable to even put it down in words “she needed you Celine, especially since you taught her she couldn’t rely on anyone else. Not even the people she fought side by side with” she pressed Zoey’s hand tightly “she would have died protecting us and she was willing to die by our hand.” She felt the hot tears rolling down, her ire mixed with a sadness she couldn’t fathom. “We pushed her to her lowest, that’s on us. But you never taught her how to get back up. Rumi is not alive today because you spared her life. She’s alive because despite all of us, she’s the strongest person I know.”
All that could be heard after that was the ragged breathing, as the unsettling statement made itself king, ruling over their thoughts relentlessly.
“If that’s really what you think, why let me near her?”
“Trust me, if it were up to us, you wouldn’t see Rumi’s face, not even in a billboard.”
“But she asked us to let you in,” Zoey continued, “she needed to see you even if she knew she wasn’t ready.”
“Why?” Celine’s brows knitted.
“Because she misses you” Mira said and out of all the things the taller girl had said, only that managed to throw Celine off center. Her eyes crystalized as she stumbled one step back. In that fracture, both managed to recognize something they had seen in Rumi’s eyes the night prior. A fear. A yearn.
“Make no mistake, the door might be open now, but we won’t let you cross that threshold so freely” Mira warned “We all might owe you a great deal regarding where we are today, but we don’t owe you our lives, especially not Rumi. If she wants you in it and you show you deserve that second chance, then we won’t stand in the way. But if you even dare to look at her with disgust or even just a trace of apprehension, I’ll raise my weapon. I will have to carry the regret of pointing it at her once, so I’ll do whatever it takes to protect her with it. Even if it's against you.”
Celine stared at her— or rather, appreciated her closely, and then Zoey. There was something burning in their eyes, something untamed and pure. “You love her.” Out of all the things she could have said, that was not what they had expected “I loved her mother just as much,” she mumbled, “she died in my arms” her voice lost its strength, “she pushed Rumi against my chest and made me promise” she gazed down at her empty hands “I would have traded places. I would have died so she could have raised Rumi, but the demon that took her wasn’t chasing after me, it was punishing her for bearing a child that should belong to them” her lips trembled. “That first night, Rumi’s crying made the Honmoon bleed red around her. I…I couldn’t bring myself to hold her” she shut her eyes tight. “but, soon I realized we didn’t have anyone else but each other. I was the sole survivor of our trio, and this child was all I had to ensure the Honmoon would survive” she inhaled deeply “I did the best I could and that’s not an excuse, just the truth. I loved her with whatever my heart could offer. It might not have been enough, but it was broken, so there was not much left to even give her.” She said hollowly “but then Rumi would smile in that same way her mother did and…and for a moment I knew I hadn’t completely lost her. I thought…that if I could erase the things that didn’t belong to my friend then…her memory could live on” her jaw clenched, “I realize now that in doing so I was also erasing who Rumi is.” She met their eyes. It hadn’t been an apology and it would never be, but something else filled the room after her words. Not approval, not justification, but perhaps a glimpse of acknowledgment, if not understanding.
Celine turned around, grabbing her handbag.
“You are leaving?” Zoey asked, confusion and relief mixing in her chest.
“That’s what you’ve wanted since the moment I’ve arrived.”
“It’s not about what we want, it’s about Rumi.” Mira stressed, frustrated.
“She might miss me now, but she doesn’t need me. She has you.”
“Are you seriously going to abandon her like that?”
“No.” she said, “If she wants to meet, I’ll wait until she calls me.” She gazed away “just…tell her I’ll wait for as long as she needs. Even if in the end she doesn’t need it anymore.”
“And what will you tell her when you finally see her?”
Celine just stared back, no words, no farewell. She took her leave, disappearing behind the elevator doors.
Celine walked through the hallway, seeing her car parked outside. That’s when she heard it behind her, the unmistakable sound of Rumi’s voice, accompanied by that of the portal of smoke that brought her there.
“Celine!” the named echoed, holding the woman in place, not turning around. Rumi inhaled sharply, not missing how she refused to meet her eyes. For a couple of seconds all that filled the room was Rumi’s elaborated breathing as she fought to find what to say. Unsure if that would be the last time she’d ever want to see her again. “I… I shouldn’t have asked you to kill me.”
Celine’s shoulders tensed and Rumi wondered what expression was worn on her face. “You really thought I could?” her head turned slightly, not enough for her features to be properly seen over the strands of hair.
“Yes” she swallowed “It would have hurt less if it had been you” she confessed to her own sin, “I couldn’t bear to ask them” because even if Mira and Zoey wouldn’t fight her, she could have begged for the request, “So, I came to you.”
The woman stood frozen in place, fully contemplating what that declaration meant. How Rumi truly saw the broken relationship they shared. If it had been built upon something, it had been suffering. “I can’t hold that against you” she said over her shoulder before taking another step towards the exit.
“Even if you can’t love all of me, I love you with all of who I am” Rumi said, shooting the words like a flair in the middle of the night, hoping to be seen “Do you…do you think that maybe one day you’ll look at me and not see a demon or my mother? Do you think you can ever just see me?”
Celine’s head tilted up, her shoulders dropping under the weight “…maybe one day” the whisper reached Rumi, “but I’m afraid it’s not today.”
Rumi stared at herself in the mirror, because Celine hadn’t been strong enough to do it herself. She looked at the reflection, piecing what belonged to her mother, what probably was her father’s and whatever was left in the in-between that she could consider her own.
And all she could tell was just how much the patterns burned. They abrasively torched her skin in a way that was almost painful, but not quite. Each trace scorched her, urging her to follow the path to the source, the root. So, she did.
She discarded the shirt, seeing the knotted vine of patterns that resided over her heart. It was pulsing. It was calling. It was mourning.
It hurt. Not physically- not just. It was eating away at something inside of her. As if the marks had memory of their own and knew they had been observed by that who hated them the most. Rumi understood the sudden ache for what it was, and her eyes shed the tears the patterns could only embody in that deep purple light. She was heartbroken and the patterns were showing all the cracks her heart couldn’t.
Rumi’s trembling hand reached for that original pattern, trying to appease the hurt irradiating from it. Her fingers barely traced the skin on her chest before she felt the sharp pain, resenting her own touch. Her hand recoiled and the tears rolled down. She was hurting herself. Not intentionally, not even aware that her patterns could incarnate her own inner demons; but there they were.
“I’m sorry” she said, holding into the edges of the dressing table, hanging her head in shame. She wasn’t sure who she was apologizing to; maybe herself. For having put up with so much, for having bottled up so many feelings that now her patterns had the need to bleed out through her skin just for them to finally get out.
The burning spread through her, following every edge, every turn, every path her patterns took across her flesh. She was agonizingly aware of every pore, every muscle tensing at the sensation, every curvature of her body begging her to curl and hide. That’s all she could concentrate on, all she could feel, until a cooling sensation against her back pulled her from the grip the pain had on her, a hand resting steadily there. She snapped her head up, seeing Mira and Zoey in the reflection. She hadn’t heard them come in.
Her mouth opened, but nothing came out, it couldn’t. It had been her decision to see Celine, even when both had been reluctant to agree, she had no right to cry about it now, she couldn’t feel torn and couldn’t ask to be cared for when they had tried to spare her from this since the very beginning. Rumi truly thought she could handle it. She actually hoped the encounter would mark the end and a new beginning, but there was just too much history there and too little time to rewrite it, because as long as Celine saw the patterns as something unchangeable, then it was all written in stone.
Rumi dropped her gaze, ashamed, unable to meet their eyes. Not like this. Not when her patterns looked exactly like those of a demon, wild and dangerous. She held tighter into the dresser, her nails leaving claw marks.
“—please, don’t look at me” Rumi pleaded, because if Celine couldn’t stand the sight of her, why should they have to?
“All we see” Mira took a step closer “is you.”
“And you are hurting” Zoey pointed gently, “so we are not going anywhere.”
“We’ve got you” Mira simply rubbed her back, breaking her down with just how much her touch alleviated the burn.
Zoey rested her head over her left shoulder, wrapping her arms around her, every point of contact dimming down the flames that were consuming her. Mira followed in swift, holding her tight, noticing the raw appearance of the core pattern over her heart. It was pulsing restlessly as a wounded creature gasping for air. Mira’s palm softly glided to it, to hold it, to patch it with nothing other than her touch. The broken cry that escaped Rumi at the sudden contact almost made her retreat, but then she felt Rumi’s hand over her own, holding it tight right there, the sob ripping through her chest, making them feel every shiver and trembling motion, every plea, every feeling that was overflowing her.
Zoey’s hand found its place with theirs, holding the pattern down, cradling it into gentle submission under their care.
“It’s okay, we’ve got you” the soft whisper echoed in the room, Mira’s hand running up and down her bare back, fingers sometimes gently tangling themselves into her hair, Zoey’s palm rested over her ribs, pressuring just enough to prompt her to take deep breaths while their thumbs carefully ran along the patters on her chest.
They held Rumi, resting her weight against them, letting her crumble down, and feel everything so she could be left with nothing. Nothing that should be carried over her shoulders, nothing stuck inside her chest, nothing holding her down when all she yearned for was take flight.
“I wish” Zoey mumbled “we had been strong enough to do this the first time we saw your patterns” she gently traced over one “So please, Rumi. Don’t ever feel like you have to hide them from us. Not when they glow or when they turn dark” she buried her face in the crook of her neck. “it’s just how you feel, not who you are.”
A drowned sob caught in Rumi’s throat. Sometimes it was just so unfair how Zoey could rebuild her with only her words. She allowed her arms to go limp, her shoulders to crumble at the lack of tension keeping them upright. She tilted her head back, gently leaning against them.
“I…” her voice quivered “I wish I had met you both before I started to believe the worst of me” she swallowed thickly “but at the same time I only started to know myself the moment I met you” the tears rolled from her cheeks down to the throat to finally graze their hands “Celine built Huntrix around me like a golden cage, but I don’t think she truly understood what she was giving me. You are my family. Celine just happened to be the person that was there to give me to you. In every sense, if I belong to anyone, it’s to both of you” she placed her hands over the ones tending to her heart “I’m yours.”