Tell Me You Meant It

by fromtheloo

Summary:

Rumi receives a call from Abby, who wants her to help take Jinu home after a night out drinking. She accepts and finds that Jinu is not only a very touchy drunk, he's also a helpless flirt. And lovingly clumsy.

Or:

basically just flufffff

Chapter 1

As the intro to Business Proposal plays on their tv, Rumi’s phone illuminates from where it’s resting on the coffee table. 

She reaches forward, expecting it to be Bobby, only to be met with “Abby”. Why is Abby calling her? She exchanges a puzzled look with Mira and Zoey—who have been fighting over the popcorn bowl. 

Swiping her finger across the screen to answer it, she brings it to her ear. 

“Hello?” 

The loud ambiance of people fills her ear, and her eyebrows knit. She can hear the sound of glasses clinking and what sounds like drinking games commencing in the background.

“Hey, Rumi,” Abby’s voice fills the receiver of the phone. She glances over to see Mira and Zoey motioning to put the phone on speaker—Zoey’s already clicked to pause their k-drama marathon. She complies. 

“So, I have an odd request.” 

“No. Huntrix is not doing the ‘Soda Pop challenge’.” Rumi answers automatically. Mira and Zoey simultaneously pout at her, and she sends them a wide eyed look. Both them and Jinu have been nagging her to have the group participate in the dance challenge, but there was no way she’d let ‘Soda Pop’ ever grace Huntrix’s Instagram page. 

Abby chuckles. “That’s not what I was referring to—but you absolutely should. I was actually asking if you’d be able to come get Jinu.” 

At the mention of a certain dark-haired lead singer, Rumi straightens while Mira and Zoey exchange conspiratory looks.

“What about him?” Her voice comes out a little too strained, and her cheeks redden. Thank god Abby can’t see her. 

Abby sighs into the receiver. “We’re out at a pojangmacha, and I think the suju and the makgeolli are getting to him. I was wondering if you’d be able to come get him. We’re not far from your apartment, and he’s kind of been asking for you.” 

If her cheeks were red a second ago, now, they’re flaming. Zoey and Mira now exchange raised eyebrows as Rumi jolts to take the phone off of speaker. Bringing it to her ear, she makes it in time to hear Abby’s “hey!” and what sounds like the phone moving—or being taken. 

“Rumiiiiii,” Jinu’s—drunk—voice fills her ear, and her skin prickles with goosebumps. It’s work to keep a smile from enveloping her face, especially as Zoey tries to lean closer to hear. 

“I misses youuuuu,” he wails. “Pleaseeee do the ‘Soda Pop challenge’.” 

Glancing up, Rumi rolls her eyes at Zoey who is making kissy faces, and Mira who is just smirking and making suggestive eyebrows. 

If she says no, she’ll be stuck with those two making goo goo eyes at her all night. 

“I’ll be there in ten,” she says while rising—avoiding eye contact as she does. 

 

---

 

Following the directions Abby sent her, she is able to find the outdoor cart with ease. With Romance’s bright pink hair, she is also able to locate them with no difficulty. Then, she takes in the drunk brunette who is currently cuddling up to Abby. 

Taking a breath, she moves closer. 

“So then I said, ‘you know, I’ve never done two at the same time, but why’—oh hey Rumi.” Abby pauses when he sees her. She waves as she nears, and the rest of the guys let out varying tipsy degrees of “hey”. 

Jinu shoots up when he hears her name, and turns to smile at her with a wide smile. Rumi’s heart does a somersault in her chest. He stands and she holds her hands up as he moves closer to her. 

“What…” she says as he gets nearer and nearer to her. She braces herself—what for, she isn’t sure. She realizes she’s closed her eyes when Jinu wraps an arm around her waist and she opens her eyes to squint at him. The scene of alcohol wafts off of him. 

“I knew you couldn’t resist me,” he teases, and she huffs. 

“For your information, I am here because you’re drunk and, apparently, you kept asking about me.” She defends, spearing a finger at him. 

In response, Jinu turns to the rest of the Saja Boys and loudly whispers, “Gentlemen, take notes. This is how you get a woman obsessed with you.” He hooks a thumb at her and Rumi—not so gently—turns them abruptly. 

This sends Jinu stumbling and the Saga Boys laughing. 

“I texted you our apartment and the code,” Abby holds up his phone and Rumi gives him a thumbs up, only to be interrupted by Jinu—who is suddenly so fascinated by her hand that he must compare it to his through interlocking their fingers. 

With her free arm that fits underneath his arm around her, she lightly taps at the back of his head. “I’ll make sure this idiot makes it back. Enjoy the rest of your evening,” she waves at them, and then pokes Jinu in the side to do the same. 

He flounders more than waves. The rest of the Saja Boys laugh and return the sentiment. Abby smirks at her when he sees her freeze as Jinu rests his face in the crook of her neck. She swallows against the feeling of his breath skating along her skin. 

Turning them, she heads them in the direction of the location Abby sent her. 

“You smell nice,” he murmurs into her bones.

Shamelessly, she plugs. “it’s Huntrix’s new scent ‘Golden’, now available at your local beauty store. Notable hints of warm vanilla and melted caramel. It also features golden flakes so that you, too, can be shining like you were born to.” 

“Sounds awful,” Jinu picks up his head and turns to squint at her. He stumbles on his feet, and this prompts her to drop her joke and ask her next question.

“How much did you have to drink tonight?” She asks as they near the apartment complex. 

Jinu holds up his thumb and pointer finger with an inch between them, only to almost walk head-on into a light pole.

“Okay, so a lot,” she grunts while she tries to support his weight. She somehow manages to get him into the building, and into an elevator. 

“Here, lean against the wall,” she tries to situate the drunkard into the corner of the elevator. Not account for him to open his arms, and try to lean back towards her. 

Taking him by the shoulders, she pushes him back to the elevator corner. “Just sit, for one second.” She holds her hands as if he were a dog that needs to stay—which is a fair comparison.

Then, he pulls the more powerful card in his arsenal. 

His lip curls downward in a pout and his eyes basically become huge begging emojis.

“Ugh. Fine!” She grumbles as she lets him fall back into her. She stumbles slightly, and straightens her neck when she feels his nose sliding up the column of her neck. She closes her eyes against his breath on the shell of her ear. She tips her head upward when she feels his traitorous hand slip under her hoodie and press into her waist. 

“Are you always this cruel to those who help you when you’re drunk?” She whispers without moving her eyes from the screen that displays the increasing floor levels.

His answer is whispered against her ear. “Only those whom I find to be irresistible.” 

She can survive this. She’s fought demons, for heaven's sake. She can handle a handsome 

drunk idol whose warmth she can feel mixing with her own.

Like the answer to a prayer, the elevator dings with the correct floor and the doors slide open. Wrapping her arm around his back, she conjoles him out of the elevator of hell.

“Be good,” she warns him as she half leans him against the doorframe so that she can get out her phone to check the code. 

She shivers against the feeling of Jinu’s hand slipping up the line of her spine. The connection is so delicious that she momentarily forgets what she’s doing. Until her phone darkens from inactivity. Groaning at the feeling of his nails against gently retracing the path he made with his fingertips, she manages to think past the fog that is his touch, and enter the code to. 

“You are awful,” she pushes open the door and not-so-gently propels Jinu inside. When he stumbles and looks at her forlorn, she takes pity and guides him to one of the island stools. She slips out of her own shoes, into a pair of what looks like spare slippers, and then works to get Jinu out of his shoes and into what she guesses is his slippers—is the yellow color with a cartoon of a blue tiger that looks like Derpy is any indication. She steps over a pile of what looks like laundry, and heads over into the kitchen area.

She searches for a cup. Once she’s found one, she fills it with water, and then plunks it down on the counter beside him. 

“Drink,” she urges. 

He eyes it through lowered lids. “What do I get if I do?” 

“Less of a headache,” she says. 

“Pity,” he goes to grab it, only to almost spill it. “Here I thought you’d pat my stomach and call me a good boy.” 

Sighing, she grabs it and brings it to his lips. “Keep your kinks to yourself, Jinu.” 

Jinu smirks at her before complying, “you are my kink, Rumi.” 

This time, the blush in her cheeks extends all the way to her toes. But, as if to remind her that he is drunk and just speaking off the top of his head, he suddenly jerks back and makes a beeline towards what appears to be the bathroom. 

Setting the glass down, Rumi hurries after him, and finds him heaving into the toilet. He’s shuddering at the force of his heaves when she kneels down beside him and gently rubs his back. He takes a breath when he’s done, and turns away from the toilet. 

Wordlessly, Rumi reaches to shut the lid, and flush the toilet. She then coaxes him to sit on the toilet seat. 

He leans his head back, but has his eyes closed. She takes in the way that his long lashes flutter. 

Stepping back, she rifles through the cabinets to find a wash cloth. Wetting it with warm water, she gently brings it to his mouth. 

At the touch of the cloth, he suddenly bursts into tears. 

It is so jarring that she steps back in fright, half scared that she hurt him somehow. 

“What—what—are you okay?” Her eyes flint back and forth over Jinu, looking for the source of his agony. 

“I never told you,” Jinu chokes out, “but you looked really hot at the Idol Awards.” 

The sigh that she lets out probably hosts half of her soul. 

Rumi has to bite back her laughter, relieve breaking and pouring over her like a bucket of water, as she tries to console him. 

“Thank you, baby.” She resumes her ghosting of the cloth over his mouth. Once she is sure that she’s wiped his mouth, she folds it over and brings it to his brow.

Jisu sobs, gripping her hand. “I felt like my heart was going to explode when I saw you go out on stage.” To punctuate this, he jerks their connected hands and pressing it against his chest. “Can you feel it?” 

“No.” 

“That’s because my heart isn’t in my chest anymore. It’s yours. It was yours the moment I saw you.” His eyes flutter open, and she’s met with a dazed dark-eyed stare.

She freezes. 

“I–I–I meant because my hand is on the left side and your heart is on the right side.” 

He glances down to find that their hands are indeed pressed to the left side of his chest. He frowns. Sliding their hands to the right side, she’s met with the pounding of his heart. 

She doesn’t register it, though, for she is turning over his words. Are drunk words sober thoughts? Or is he just saying anything? Does he truly mean it? 

Pulling away from his touch, she leans back—needing space and distance. It feels as though she is the one who’s drunk too much. 

He’s drunk. That’s all that this is. Do not get your hopes up, Rumi . He’ll forget about this in the morning . 

Taking a breath, she steels herself once again. One day, her hope will kill her. It festers within her and spreads all across her body, filling her brain and altering her memories so that she struggles to remember what was real and what wasn’t. She wonders if it leaves marks on her. If Jinu could see the way it eats everything he gives her. 

“Stupid human anatomy,” Jinu mutters, still looking down at his chest as though it’s personally offended him. 

Using her finger to tilt his chin up, she finishes wiping his face. Once done, she hooks a hand under his arms and helps to get him to his room. She is pleasantly surprised to find it neat. No dirty clothes lying around, floor is neatly vacuumed, and she notices a drawing pinned to the cork board above his desk. She takes in the large windows that take up one wall of his bedroom. 

He collapses on the bed as she leans over to click on the lamp on his nightstand. He lays still as she works to remove his slippers and socks. She freezes, unsure if she should help him change into his sleeping clothes. When she glances up at him, he is nuzzling into his pillow. 

Rumi steps away, to retrieve the forgotten water cup so he has it when he wakes, but she is stopped by a hand around her wrist. She glances down to finally notice the familiar purple and blue knot bracelet wrapped around the wrist. She swallows and it feels as though she’s swallowed the sun. 

“Stay with me,” he pleads. His eyes sliding open. “Please.” 

How can she say no when he asked so politely? 

“Okay,” her voice is hoarse for some reason. “Let me grab your water.” 

He nods, and reluctantly relinquishes her wrist. She walks on wobbly legs 

back to the kitchen, refills the glass, and heads back towards the bedroom. Setting it down on the nightstand, she turns to the bed, and finds that Jinu has already scooted across the bed to give her room. 

Removing her own slippers and socks, she settles into the bed on her back, hands clasped over her stomach. 

Should she just lay here until he goes to sleep? Surely he didn’t mean the whole night? 

Digging her phone out of her back pocket, she is unlocking it when the bed shifts. She freezes, unsure what to do. 

The mattress dips beside her as weight falls upon it, and something pushes her arms up. Lifting them, she is surprised to find Jinu wrapping himself around her. One of his legs hooks around hers as one of his arms wraps around her middle and slides underneath her. His head falls on her chest, just beneath her chin—his hair a cushion for her jaw. His other arm slips underneath her head and pillow.

She blinks. A minute ago she was laying by herself, now she has a Jinu-blanket wrapped around her. 

Lowering her arms back down, setting her one elbow on his back, she sends a text to the group chat she has with Mira and Zoey: Going to be home tomorrow. Don’t worry about me . 

She closes it when she gets an indicator that they’re texting—right now she does not need whatever they think is happening. 

Placing her phone on the nightstand beside her, she stretches slowly towards the lamp. Jinu lets out a sound, and she pauses on her movement. When he merely moves his head, she finishes reaching, and clicks it off. Engulfing them in darkness, save for the silver light filtering in through the window. 

Uncertain, she settles her hands on his head. When he doesn’t protest, she runs her hands through his hair, letting her nails gently scrap his scalp. He lets out a soft groan. 

His breathing smooths out, and Rumi assumes that he’s fallen asleep, when he speaks again.

“I meant it.” 

The words cut the silence so abruptly that she thought that she imagined them. Except, the words were murmured right above her heart. 

“Meant what?”

“What I said.” He shifts, cheek still pressed against her chest, “You have my heart, Rumi. It’s always been yours.” He lets this confession go with a sigh, as though it was a weight lifted.

She is stunned. 

“It’s not the alcohol talking,” he answers her silent wondering. “Although, it has definitely helped me to admit it.” 

Still, she doesn’t fully believe this. It’s too good to be true. But maybe. Just maybe. 

“Okay,” she whispers. 

A puff of hair against her skin is his chuckle. “Don’t worry about saying it back, we both know that you love me, too.” 

Wonder fills her with his implication that he loves her, while annoyance also fills her with his cockiness. 

“You being drunk and having just puked your guts is the only reason I don’t dump you on the floor, and leave your sorry bum.” 

He chuckles again, and then they slowly lapse into silence. 

“Sing me ‘Soda Pop’,” the little sucker asks. 

She rolls her eyes. “No.” 

“Because you love me?” 

“I don’t know if I do anymore.” 

“Pleaseeeeeee.” 

A groan. “Fine.” 

“Yayyy.” 

She tips her head back to look at the ceiling as she drums up the lyrics. Humming, she begins to softly sing the words. She is a bit embarrassed to admit that she knows all the words to the song, but, thankfully, Jinu has fallen asleep before he can tease her on it. 

Sighing, she continues to comb through his hair. Soothing herself in the process. Her eyes begin to grow heavy with the promise of sleep. The soft bed beneath her with the warm body around her helps to drag her into the lullaby of sleep. 

She’s fallen enough into the embrace of sleep that she won’t remember how Jinu scooted closer to her as if touching her was his purpose in life—what he was born to do.

 

---

 

In the morning, she will wake to a sunlight filled room, an empty glass on the nightstand, and kisses against her spine.

Notes:

if i had a dollar for every time i wrote a rujinu fanfic that was romantically charged and ended when they kissed, we'd have two dollars towards KpDH 2

Chapter 2: Tell Me You Believe It

Summary:

thought i'd write a little special smtg smtg where rumi is the drunk one and jinu is the yeaning one

Notes:

enjoy!

To celebrate “Golden” being certified RIAA Gold in the U.S.—both album and single, the girls of Huntrix decided to go drinking.

And, naturally, this ends with them getting absolutely wasted. Drinking games hate to see them coming. They’d migrated past the classic drinking games, such as Bottlecap and Titanic, and were now just taking turns taking shots and laughing. 

“Do it! Do it!” Zoey squeals at Rumi, who is holding her hands up in front of her as a shield while she giggles. 

“No, no, no. Absolutely not.” She shakes her head so furiously, the bar begins to blur in her vision.

Reaching over the table, Mira grabs the phone in Rumi’s hand. “Fine. I’ll do it.” 

“Yes, yes!” Zoey giggles behind her alcohol glass. 

“Mira, noooooo.” Rumi tries to take her phone back, but suddenly there’s two Miras. 

She is met with an evil grin from Mira as she clicks on the phone. The tell-tale sound of ringing fills the empty silence, and Rumi groans into her hands. And then she gets distracted by the plate of fried chicken. 

“Hello?” They all freeze at the voice, despite the fact that he can’t see them, and that they were the ones to call him. 

“Rumi?” 

Mouth stuffed with chicken, she sends Mira and Zoey a caught expression. Instead of answering, they all sit frozen. 

“Rumi?” The voice asks again, this time with a sigh. “Why did you call me?” 

“She listened to “Your Idol” 30 times this week!” Zoey suddenly blurts out. Rumi whirls 

on Zoey, her betrayal leaving her with a gaping mouth. To think, this had once been her best friend. The traitor shrugs sheepishly. 

“That’s—that’s not true!” She is quick to amend. “I just like the opening line.” 

This time, Jinu chuckles into the phone. “I’m glad that you like it. Are you guys out drinking?” 

They all nod. 

“I’m going to take the silence as a yes?” 

Rumi offers the plate of chicken to Zoey, “do you want any of this?” 

Zoey shakes her head, sudden tears welling in her eyes. “I prefer Abby’s abs.” 

“They are really good, aren’t they?” Rumi glances to find that Mira is now also crying. Of course, this causes Rumi to burst into tears. 

Through tears, she says, “they’re just so perfect. I mean, Jinu is cute, but he doesn’t have abs like Abby does.” 

“I’m right here, guys.” 

“I just want to touch them,” Zoey wails. 

Mira ferociously nods her head in agreement. “I bet they’re all buttery and soft.” 

A cough. “How are abs buttery and soft, exactly?” 

They all respond at the same time. 

“Lotion?” 

Another sigh. “Okay, where are you guys? Do I need to come and pick you up?” 

Mid-crying, Rumi turns towards the phone, “you are not going to ruin our fun just because you are jealous that Abby has better abs than you.” 

Reaching over the table, she hangs up the phone. Once she has leaned back into her seat across from Mira and Zoey, the two girls let out claps and cheering. With pink cheeks, Rumi bashfully accepts the bravos. 

Then, another plate of chicken and more alcohol is brought to their table and all thoughts of boys and abs are forgotten. 

“I say, we alternate couch and bathhouse for the next few months. Couch one week, and then bathhouse the next. And so on.” 

An idea pings in Rumi’s mind, and she slaps her hands down on the table. “What if we did both!” 

Mira and Zoey turn to her, eyes wide and mouths agape. “You’re a genius, Rumi.” 

“We turn our couch into a bathhouse!” 

Zoey supplies, “or we bring our couch to the bathhouse.” 

Mira digs for her phone, “do they have waterproof couches? We should buy one and then 

we’ll bring it to the bathhouse! 

“This is why we keep you around, Mira.” Rumi leans back, and finishes her glass of alcohol while peering out the window next to their table. 

She squints as she spots an approaching figure. How odd, it looks a bit like Jinu. He is even wearing the same white shirt with a pink undershirt. Pink looks good on Jinu, it brings out his skin tone and his eyes. She should book a color analysis. Is she a winter or a spring? Hopefully spring. Spring is a good season. Do they have spring rolls at home? 

“Rumi, Rumi,” Mira’s hissing of her names draws her from her sporadic train of thought. She glances up to find that Zoey and Mira are leaning over the table towards her while sending glances over their shoulders. 

“What? What?”

Instead of answering, they point—not so subtly—to the side of the table. When she turns her head, she is met with an eyebrow-raised Jinu. 

“Why’s he here?” She turns back to their little huddle. 

Mira shakes her head. “No idea.” 

“Maybe he’ll leave if we ignore him?” Zoey asks. 

“I can hear you. You’re not even whispering.” 

“Maybe if we close our eyes and count to three, he’ll be gone?” Rumi offers a possible solution.

Zoey and Mira nod. Jinu lets out a sigh. 

“Okay,” they close their eyes. “One. Two. Three.” 

They open their eyes and turn to find Jinu is still standing there. Looking unamused.

“Ta-da. I’m still here.” He puts his hands out near his shoulders in a “jazzy hands” motion. “Now, clearly you’ve all had way too much to drink. C’mon, I’ll take you home.” 

Rumi shakes her head. “No! No! You can not just take me from my girls and my chicken.” She leans over the table and clasps hands with Zoey and Mira—who are wearing similar expressions of drunken stubbornness. 

Jinu sighs as he digs out his phone. He presses some buttons and then brings it to his ear. “Hey Myst, can you, Abby, and Rom come help me get the drunk Huntrix back to their apartment?” Silence, then he nods. “Thanks, man.” 

Pocketing his phone, he turns to the girls. “Have you paid already?” 

They nod, tear stricken. 

“Okay, so Mystery, Romance, and your precious Abby—whose abs are just as good as mine—are going to come for you two, since three drunk singers is a handful. So, do not move a muscle.” He lays them with a serious expression, daring them to do otherwise. 

“He’s going to make a great dad.” Mira whispers from the corner of her mouth. Zoey and Rumi nod from where they’re still looking at Jinu. 

Jinu smirks. “Only if the child has their mother’s stubbornness.” 

Reaching forward, he gently grasps Rumi’s arm and pulls her to a stand. She stumbles, and lands in the perfect cushion of his chest. 

Mira and Zoey let out twin squeals. Rumi turns towards them, and gives them a big thumbs up while a grin spreads across her face. 

“Good lord,” Jinu leans over her and grabs her bag. She reaches for it, but he holds it above her head—just out of reach. 

“I’ll handle this,” he tuts as he slips it over his shoulder. Wrapping an arm around her shoulder, he guides her out from the booth. 

“Don’t move,” he instructs the rest of Huntrix. “Wait for Romance, Abby, and Mystery to get here.” Zoey nods while Mira salutes. 

Hands on her shoulders, Jinu leads a stumbling Rumi out of the bar and onto the sidewalk. Cars whirl by and people mill around the streets. Jinu gently pulls the hood of her sweater up and over her head before doing the same for himself. 

“I’m fine.” Rumi wiggles her body out from underneath his grip. “I can walk on my own.” 

“Okay.” Jinu says, yet he rushes to walk behind her with his hands out on either side of her—ready to catch her. 

To everyone’s surprise, she makes it a few feet before she trips, and ends up flopping into a heap on the sidewalk. 

“Rumi.” Jinu groans as he kneels down beside her, cupping the back of her head to just her face towards his. His eyes roam over his face as he tries to gauge her emotional state. 

Once he’s sure she’s not going to cry, he glances down to make sure that she didn’t mortally wound herself. He brushes some dirt off of her pants, and adjusts his grip to help pull her back to her feet. 

“Here, climb onto my back.” He turns and presents his back to her—leaning down so that it is at a level that she can reach. 

“I am not climbing on your back.” He glances over his shoulder to find Rumi with her arms crossed.

He responds with an eyebrow raise. “Clearly you can’t walk, and I am not carrying you bridal style. So, we’re at an impasse then.” 

“Ask politely.” Rumi raises her eyebrow. 

“Wha—what?” Jinu turns around so that he’s facing her. 

Her jerks her chin, “you heard me. Say ‘please’.” 

He straightens and turns back towards her. “I don’t think you’re the one who should be negotiating, right now. Seeing as I was the one that interrupted my busy evening to come help you.” 

Rumi shakes her head. “I didn’t ask you to do that.” 

He’s still looking at Rumi, but he also seems to speak to himself when he says, “You don’t need to.” He turns to look down the sidewalk, running a hand through his hair as he seems to ponder something. 

She watches the way the lights from the city illuminate Jinu’s skin. She glances up to find that his hair looks impossibly soft. But, would it feel as soft as it looks? 

Her step forward draws Jinu’s attention, and he turns back towards her. His eyes are not quite as serious as they were before. Rather, they look bottomless. She wonders what it would feel like to lose herself in them. 

She suspects that once she lets herself fall, there would be no coming back. 

He watches her, warily, as she lifts her hand towards him. She expects him to pull away, or look at her strangely, when he realizes what she wants. 

That doesn’t stop her, however, from still bringing her arm up towards his face. Her gaze bounces between his hair and his eyes. She braces herself for the pull back. 

What she doesn’t expect, however, is for him to lower his head into her touch. 

He tips his head forward, and her fingers go from cold to cocooned in a soft material. She 

expresses delight at the feeling of his soft waves. Her fingers glide through his hair, and she misses the way his eyes droop. 

For the next few minutes, she grooms his hair—brush it this way and that. Jinu leans almost completely into her touch, and has to brace himself on the wall beside her. 

When she grazes her fingernails against his scalp, he lets out a low sound that almost sounds hurt. She jerks her fingers back, fearful that she did something wrong. 

“Are you okay?” She asks as he lifts his head. He pins her with a half-pained expression. Her eyebrows knit in confusion. There is a need inside her to soothe his pain, but something is telling her that she is the pain.

Leaning closer, her eyes flutter closed as their breaths mingle and his nose brushes against hers.

Her mouth parts and she breathes in his long exhale. They’re dancing along the edge of a point of no return. This is something they can’t come back from. This is something that will change everything.

This is something that needs to happen. 

In a moment of gusto, Rumi leans forward and cups Jinu’s face to hers. Their lips slot against each other, and Jinu surges to meet her. He moves against her as though to keep her from running from this. 

His teeth catch on her bottom lip, nipping gently at the skin there, and she runs her hand up through the hair at the nape of his neck. She responds in kind; opening her mouth wider and sliding her tongue past his lips. He groans, and devours her. 

They finally break as her lungs burn for oxygen, and she leans back to take in a mouthful of air. A glance at Jinu tells her that not only are his lips puffy and begging for another kiss, but he also is panting just as heavy as her. His gaze is unfocused. 

Then, his eyes snap towards hers, and dread fills her stomach like lead. She can see all Jinu begins to build up a wall between them. 

“You’re drunk.” He says.

She nods. 

He huffs a laugh, but it is a strained thing. 

“Don’t worry, I won’t hold…what we did,” he pushes off of the wall behind her, and runs a hand through his hair, “against you.” Yet, when he turns to look at her again, his gaze fixes her on her gaping lips. He bites his own. 

She blinks. Her head is spinning, and she isn’t sure what’s going on. If she squints hard, there are three restless Jinus. 

“What?” 

He swallows, like the words are painful for him to say. “I know that you’re drunk, so I don’t expect you to mean it.” 

She argues. “But what if I do?” 

He merely shakes his head, not even listening to her. “It’s okay. I understand that things happen, and you get swept up in the moment. So, we can just forget it happened.” He punctuates this with a smile that is like bile on her tongue. 

Maybe this was his way of getting out of the implications. Blame her drunkenness and escape all ramifications. She has to hand it to him, it’s genius. 

She swallows back the feelings that she’d lined her lips with before kissing him. Evidently, they’d left a sour taste on his tongue. 

“Fine.” Rumi shrugs. She turns to look down the street, feeling his gaze on her like lips against the cheek. She closes her eyes against the sensation. 

“Okay.” He says slowly. “Can you walk?” 

She nods. Out of the corner of her eye, she sees him nod and run another hand through his hair. 

Leaning down, he collects her purse from where it fell during their lip mashing. He pulls back from her when she moves to take it back. 

Exhaustion washes over her, and she doesn’t care enough to fight him anymore. She turns on her heel and walks towards home. 

Jinu is kind enough to allow her the small mercy of not forcing her to endure walking beside him. He walks behind her slightly, and she can almost pretend that he isn’t here. 

 

---

 

By the time they make it back to the penthouse, Rumi has no fight left in her. She is heartbroken, haggard, and hungry. The worst offense of all. 

Slipping on her slippers, she grumbles as she makes her way to the kitchen.

“What are you doing?” Jinu finally breaks whatever quiet game they’d been playing.

“I want ramyeon.” She replies without looking at him. She goes to the cabinet and opens the doors. 

“Wow, that is a lot of ramyeon.” The entire cabinet, both sides, if filled by cups—both normal types and the special Huntrix flavors.

She takes her favorite flavor—her own of course. “You can have one, if you want.” She offers because she is a nice person, after all. 

When she almost drops the kettle, Jinu rushes forward to grab it.

“Here, I’ll do it. Go sit on the couch.” He motions towards the large sofa that overlooks Seoul.

She shrugs and slouches towards the couch. Laying down on it, she clicks on the television. Behind her, she can hear water running and then what sounds like the metal top snapping back onto the kettle. 

A second later, Jinu crosses her field of vision. She leans to the side so that she can see past his long legs. 

“You’re interrupting my nature documentary,” she informs him. She chances a glance up. Their gazes connect, and he quickly glances away as he places a glass of water on the coffee table. 

Interesting . He’s the one struggling with eye contact. 

“Drink.” He commands. 

Pulling herself into an upright position, she complies. The water slides down her throat easily, and she doesn’t realize how parched she is until the bottom of the glass greets her. 

Jinu reaches out his hand and takes the glass back from her. She expects him to move, but he just stays there. 

When she glances at him, he is chewing on his lip. Thinking. He opens his mouth when he realizes that she is looking at him. 

She will never know what he wanted to say because at that moment the kettle began to whistle. Closing his mouth, he steps away and into the kitchen. 

Rumi didn’t know you could grieve the loss of something that hadn’t existed. 

Juni returns with two purple ramyeon cups—each labeled as “Rumi” flavored. He clears his throat. 

“What does “Superstar Flavor” taste like?” 

She accepts the cup and then the chopsticks. Sliding down from the couch, she settles in front of the coffee table. 

She motions to him with her hand, “you’ll find out.” 

They eat in silence, and Rumi closes her eyes against the familiar blossom of flavor. Her eyes snap open when she feels something light press against her lips. Jinu is leaning across the table with a napkin pressed to her lips. 

He wipes at her lips with such reverence it makes her want to cry. She stills against his touch, and he moves to the other side of her mouth. She wants to lean into his touch, but she doesn’t want her drunkenness to be blamed once again.

So, when he pulls away, she lets him. 

“You know, it’s not bad. I’ll have to try all of them before I can tell my definite opinion.” Jinu says from the kitchen after taking their empty cups and dirty chopsticks. She is resting with her back to the couch; her head tipped back to rest on the cushion. He appears with another glass of water, and she sucks it down. 

“Time for bed.” She accepts his arm as he leads her towards her bedroom. She pushes past him once they step past the doorway. Tipping forward, she lands on her stomach on the mattress. Toeing off her shoes, she holds still as Jinu peels off her socks. 

She expects him to leave. 

The bed dips on the other side. 

A light touch has her turning her head to find her purple braid between his fingers. Nimbly, he works to pull the band from the bottom of her braid. With all the care in the world, he undoes the braid. 

“I didn’t just kiss you because I’m drunk,” she watches as his fingers pause over top of her purple hair. 

“Rumi,” he seems to brace himself. 

She shakes her head and pulls herself up on her elbows. Taking a breath, she meets his eyes. They are as dark as the sea. 

“You don’t have to feel the same, but I kissed you because I wanted to. Not because I was drunk or swept up in the moment. I kissed you because I’ve wanted to for a while. I can be myself around you.” She flops back down, feeling tears filling her eyes. 

“I want you so bad I feel like I can’t breathe.” 

Jinu appears over top of her, blurry in her vision. 

“Then, you have me,” he says as he leans down and presses his lips to hers. She lets out a sigh. Circling her arms around his shoulders, she pulls him down further. He stakes his hands through her now unbraided hair. She finally gets her breath back.

“Stay,” she gasps for air once they break apart. 

The gentleness in Jinu’s eyes is the softest thing to ever exist. “Oh, Rumi, all you have to do is ask.”

Notes:

thank you so so so much for all the comments and the kudos and the bookmarks - y'all are awesome