Bruised, Not Broken

by TennisTurtle

Summary:

Rumi was always meant to be their fearless leader. The one who was strong, the perfect one, the one who never messed up and the one who was meant to fix everything. So why was she the one who was always broken, why was she the one who always needed to be fixed?

Set immediately after the movie. Rumi is struggling and still finding it difficult to express her feelings and not hide from away from the girls. Mira and Zoey are dating and Rumi feels left out wishing she could be apart of it or at least have someone that loves her the way they love each other. She meets a boy, and he's perfeccct, JK he's a piece of shit.

Mind the tags

Notes:

Hellooo. This is my first time writing a fanfic, and I am certainly no writer!
This is going to be a heavy angst fic with a fair amount of comfort but not for a little while, so be warned! if you don't like angst this is not the story for you. It gets much worse before it gets better. I have the whole story drafted so updates should be fairly regular depending on school. Looking at about 5-10 chapters if I had to guess.

Please mind the tags and please don't read if there is anything that will make you uncomfortable or unsafe. I will also post chapter specific tags at the start of each chapter, if you don't want spoilers just skip past the notes

Trigger warnings on this chapter: referenced past suicide attempt (canon)

 

love ya <3

Chapter 1

Mira and Zoey were curled up on the couch together, settling in to binge-watch their next god-awful reality show. Rumi didn’t know much about it, but from the title 'Too Hot to Handle', she had already gathered it was very American and very bad. The kind of bad that was so bad it circled back around to being good.  

The girls weren’t exactly on hiatus anymore. They still did interviews and the occasional sponsored ad here and there, but Bobby had made it clear they weren’t to push themselves too hard, too fast. He, like everyone else, still didn’t know about demons. Even after what had gone down at the Idol Awards and the Saja Boys concert, most of the public chalked it all up to an overly dramatic concept with impressive special effects. As for Rumi’s glowing patterns, people seemed happier believing they were tattoos or extreme stage make-up. Humans tended to see only what they wanted to.  

To Bobby’s credit, he knew something had happened that night. He refused to believe the onstage Huntr/x break-up was just a performance narrative, but he chose not to press. Instead, he focused on keeping his girls safe and assuring they got a much-needed break  

Rumi was in the kitchen, clearing up the mountain of snack wrappers they had ploughed through in just a couple of hours. She sighed, knowing these quiet, comfortable nights couldn’t last forever. Sooner or later, they would have to return to the stage.  

The Honmoon was still not sealed the way she had dedicated her entire life to making it. It wasn’t golden like she had dreamed—it was stronger than ever, now radiating a rainbow shimmer—but weaker spots still lingered. Demons could slip through. Without Gwi-ma they weren’t nearly as powerful, but they were still needed to be dealt with.  

Rumi inwardly winced at the phrase dealt with . She didn’t feel like she’d been “dealt with” either. Her patterns glowed as bright as ever, and while Mira and Zoey were trying help her through loving the real her, Rumi still struggled to undo years of shame and hiding.  

She filled the sink with water preparing to wash the dishes, another sigh slipping past her lips. Laughter from the couch pulled her attention. Zoey and Mira were play-fighting over the last chocolate-covered strawberry, Zoey pinning Mira down, straddling her around the waste with a mischievous grin. Mira surrendered, and Zoey claimed victory, popping the strawberry in her mouth. Mira leaned up to kiss Zoey on the nose, her eyes soft with pure devotion.  

 

Rumi’s ears burned pink. She turned back to the sink, scrubbing a dish with a little too much force. She was happy for them—she really was. When they had first confessed to her six months ago that they had started dating, she hadn’t been surprised. She’d seen the lingering stares, the way they brushed against each other in the halls and the way that their eyes lit up when the other would get home. Not to mention the countless hours they had spent at the bathhouse together - it had only been a matter of time.

But her happiness for them carried a shadow. She longed for what they had. She longed to share even a fraction of the warmth between them. But she knew it was too late. She had built her walls too high, kept them too carefully guarded ensuring the girls were always kept at an arms length, and now she couldn’t bring herself to intrude on what they had found together.  

The doorbell jolted her out of her thoughts. She glanced at Mira and Zoey, expecting them to know who it was. They only looked back, equally confused—Zoey mid shoveling another hand full of popcorn into her mouth  

Drying her wet hands on a tea towel, Rumi opened the door—and froze.  

Celine.  

Her adoptive mother/mentor stood there without her usual immaculate shield of professionalism. No blazer, no sharp heels. Just a loose sweater and hair tied back in a loose simple bun, the faintest trace of weariness in her eyes.  

“Hello, Rumi,” Celine greeted anxiously.  

For a moment, Rumi's composure faltered, her mouth hanging open in surprise and dread. The last time they had spoken, she had asked Celine to end her life. She quickly masked her emotions and greeted the older woman.  

On the couch, Mira and Zoey nearly choked on their popcorn, snapping in to perfect posture and brushing the popcorn crumbs off of their laps. No matter how complicated their feelings had become about their mentor, old habits ran deep. Years of strict training had drilled respect into their bones.  

“Come in,” Rumi said stiffly, stepping aside.  

Celine swept in with her usual elegance, nodding to the girls. “Girls.”  

 

“Miss Celine,” they replied politely, heads dipping.  

“I wasn’t expecting you,” Rumi said, tension coiled in her voice.  

“You weren't answering any of my messages,” Celine replied gently. “I wanted to make sure you were all right.”  

Rumi plastered on a smile usually reserved for interviews and returned to the sink. Her sudden stiffness made Mira and Zoey exchange a look.  

“Sorry—we’ve just been… busy.” Rumi’s eyes flicked towards the Netflix home screen still glowing on the paused TV screen and the snack carnage piled on the coffee table betraying her.  

Celine hesitated. “It’s all right, Rumi. I can understand why you might not want to talk to me.”  

Rumi scrubbed harder, though the dish was already spotless. “Of course I want to see you, Celine. We’ve just had a lot going on.”  

It wasn’t exactly a lie. She did want to see her, when things had started to fall apart, she had longed for the brief moments of motherly comfort she had once provided her in her youth. She just didn’t know how to face her now—not after what she had asked of her.  

From the couch, Mira and Zoey watched intently, their gazes flicking between the two women in the kitchen, Zoey absently stuffing popcorn into her mouth like she’d found a new reality show, live in their living room.  

“How have you been managing?” Celine asked carefully.  

“I’ve been fine,” Rumi answered too quickly, forcing another smile.  

Celine moved closer, lifting her arm as if to place a comforting hand on the younger girls' shoulder before thinking better of it. “I don’t know how you can be fine, after everything.”  

“I am,” Rumi insisted, her voice pitching higher than normal. She set the dish into the drying rack with a clatter and grabbed another, desperate to keep her hands moving. Her patterns pulsed, betraying the calm façade she was trying to maintain.  

“Rumi.” Celine’s voice softened, but her eyes were firm. “I know you’re not fine. And I know much of that is my fault. But I want to be better. I want to be here for you.”  

Rumi’s hands twitched. Her chest tightened. She wanted the conversation to end – like right now . “I really am fine—great, even!” She shot a pleading glance at Mira and Zoey, but they were riveted, eyes locked on the two of them.  

“Rumi, you are not fine.” Celine’s voice rose slightly. “We need to talk about this—after what you asked me to do—”  

The sound of breaking glass cut her off.  

“Stop!” Rumi shouted. “Stop talking!”  

 

The room went silent, save for Zoey’s audible gasp. None of them had ever heard Rumi speak like that before—not to Celine, not really to anyone for that matter – she was always the perfect model of politeness.  

 

Her wide, panicked eyes flicked between them before she forced a smile back onto her face. “S-sorry. I didn’t mean—” She carefully collected the shards of glass, her hands shaking. “Celine, please. Let talk about this another time.”  

Celine blinked, taken aback. “Oh… I thought they knew.” Her hand flew to her mouth. “I’m sorry, Rumi, I just assumed you would have told the—”  

“ Another time ,” Rumi said firmly, jaw tight.  

Celine inclined her head, retreating. “Of course.” And Rumi rushed her out, promising she would call and shut the door firmly behind her, momentarily bracing herself against it and drawing in a ragged breath to calm herself.  

When she turned back, both Mira and Zoey were staring at her.  

 

“So.... I’m a uh- a little tired,” she said brightly, smile too stiff. “I might just go lie down.”  

 

She made for her room, forcing her legs not to flat out sprint, but Mira caught her wrist. Rumi had to fight the urge to yank it out of her grip  

 

“Rumi.” Mira’s voice was steady. “What the hell was that about? Why was Celine being so weird?”  

“Oh, nothing. You know how Celine is—always intense .”  

“Rumi.” Mira’s tone hardened.  

“It’s nothing, really!” Her laugh was too loud, too forced.  

“No. She said something - ' after what you asked me to do'. What did she mean by that, what did you ask her Rum?” Zoey piped up from the couch, one hand under her chin as if she was trying to solve a particularly hard puzzle.  

Rumi faltered, her hands tugging at the hem of her shirt. “Oh that. . It was nothing really. You guys know I went to see her after the awards. And I just… asked her for help with... something.”  

 

“The night we- we raised our weapons at you?” Zoey asked, wincing at the memory.  

 

“Mm-hm.” Rumi said still smiling. Mira noted the way Rumi's eyes were looking anywhere but at her.  

 

“We said no more lies,” Mira said, voice low in warning. “What did you ask her to do that was so 'un-important' that you all but told Celine to shut up so we wouldn't hear it?” Mira was trying to keep her tone soft but was failing feeling the old resentment rising as she saw Rumi's walls building themselves back up brick by brick.  

Rumi flexed and unflexed her hands several time trying to fight the urge to run. She felt defensive at Mira's words. She hadn't exactly 'lied' to them. She just hadn't told them the whole truth.  

"It was nothing really." She said and gave another small laugh, weaker than the last. She heard Mira audibly growl and rushed to continue. "I just asked.... hertokillme."  

Mira froze.  

"Sorry you asked her to what?" Zoey asked, her brain not catching up with what Rumi had mumbled.  

Rumi let out a long breath, twisting her hands together. "I asked Celine to... kill me. The night of the awards."  

Zoey gasped, her hand clamping over mouth in shock. Mira remained frozen. Rumi's eyes quickly darted between the two girls noticing the tears that began to spill down Zoey's cheeks. The silence was suffocating, Rumi desperately tried to fill it, to undo the words that had spilled from her mouth.  

"I was being dramatic. I'm like, so fin-."  

"I swear to fucking god Rumi, if you say you're fine one more time." Mira's voice was low and rough trembling with a mix of fear and fury.  

"Why would you ask her to do that Rums?" Zoey stuttered through strangled sobs.  

"I-I just, You know...  thought you guys didn't want me anymore, and I had ruined everything and-and.... 'A demon with no feelings don't deserve to live... it's so obvious'." Rumi sung the lyrics in a whispered voice. Her smile had now vanished and she beginning to feel herself crack.   

It wasn't until Zoey threw herself into her arms, nearly knocking her off her feet, that Rumi finally shattered, sobbing into the shorter girls shoulder. Mira wrapped around them both, guiding them onto the couch in a tangle of limbs, Rumi in the middle.  

“I’m so sorry, Rums,” Zoey choked out. “I wish I’d never written that song, never made you sing it.”  

Rumi went to protest saying it was okay but Mira cut her off before she could get the words out  

“It’s not okay,” Her tears now falling freely too. “And I’m sorry too. We’re sorry. For everything that made you feel like that was the only way.”  

 

Rumi clung to them, shaking.  

 

“Rumi I'm so happy you didn't like, die.” Zoey whispered. “Please, please don’t ever try to leave us again. We love you so much.”  

 

Mira nodded in agreement into Rumi's hair, her tears falling silently.  

 

They stayed like that for hours, crying until exhaustion pulled them under. Rumi wasn’t okay. Not yet. But with her girls holding her, the weight she carried didn’t feel quite as crushing. For the first time in a long time, she allowed herself to believe that maybe just being here, was enough for now.  

Chapter 2

Notes:

Hello, me again.
Sorry this is still just a bit of a opening chapter before we dive in to the rough blood and guts of the story. I've come to realise I'm terrible at pacing but I'm trying to get better, apologies in advance.

This chapter is mostly light with brief mentions of past attempted suicide but nothing major, and only a touch of angst. Don't get used to it!

The next couple of weeks blurred into a haze of late-night talk show interviews, game shows, and photo shoots. The girls were slowly slipping back into the routine of idol life, and with that came less and less free time. Gone were the lazy days of snacks and endless hours sprawled on the couch together.  

 

Rumi had to admit—she was a little relieved. She loved performing, loved their fans, but lately the atmosphere at the Huntr/x home base had been… tense.  

No, not tense. Suffocating.  

Ever since she’d told the girls the truth about her and Celine's meeting, they’d been watching her like hawks. She’d catch them glancing at each other if she went quiet too long, or feel them hovering around her when she seemed even the remotely down or distant  

Even showers weren’t safe. If she stayed in there more than even a few minutes longer than her usual routine, suddenly one of them would appear outside the door with a question—something so obviously pointless it made Rumi grit her teeth. She knew they weren’t there to ask about toothpaste brands or lost hair ties. They were making sure she hadn’t decided to off herself on a casual Tuesday afternoon.  

Resentment bubbled in her chest, bitter and sharp. She tried to push it down, but God, sometimes she wished she’d never told them anything.  

Celine wasn’t helping either. The woman called every day now, suddenly soft-voiced, gentle, maternal.  

'Too little, too late' , Rumi thought,bitterly tossing her phone aside after another missed call. She flopped back onto her pillows, staring at the ceiling above, groaning at herself feeling another wave of guilt rush through her.  

Because she knew Celine was trying . And maybe she shouldn't entirely blame her for the years of cold parenting, sharp remarks, the constant weight of never being enough. Raising a child like Rumi—one whose arms carried the very patterns of the demons they had been trained to despise, couldn't have been an easy task  

 

She knew how hard it must have been to raise a child like Rumi, one who bared the constant reminder on her arms of everything a demon hunter despised. It was only natural that a small amount of that disgust for demons flowed onto Rumi through Celine. The woman couldn't even bare to look at her properly once her patterns were more fully developed. And how could Rumi resent the woman when she too, could still hardly bare to look at them herself.  

 

Her hands clawed through her hair, tugging painfully. She screwed her eyes shut, trying not to choke on the thought.  

She pulled from her thoughts when a heavy paw landed gently on her thigh. Then retreated. Then pressed again.  

Rumi cracked an eye open. Derpy. The demon tiger was testing his luck, pawing at her like he was politely asking to climb into her lap.  

“Not now, Derpy,” she muttered, though her voice lacked bite. “Can no one in this house give me one  moment of peace?” Still, she sighed and dragged him up, scratching between his ears as the deep purr vibrated against her. The stupid cat had an eerie knack for knowing when she was falling apart.  

 

Just as she began to calm, a knock tapped at her door. Light. Hesitant.  

She groaned, ignored it.  

Another knock. “Ru-Ru, you in there?”  

Zoey.  

Rumi kept silent. Maybe if she stayed quiet, the maknae would leave.  

“Rums? Are you okay?” Louder this time. Then the jiggle of the door handle Rumi had locked.  

That did it. Rumi shot up too fast, poor Derpy tumbling off the bed with a grunt. She stormed to the door and wrenched it open. “What?”  

Zoey flinched. Her big eyes went wide, hurt flashing across them.  

Rumi felt Instant guilt.  

“S-sorry,” Zoey stammered. “I just wanted to check you were okay.”  

The guilt twisted into frustration again, hot and prickly. Rumi shoved past her into the hall. "I'm fine." Rumi answered through gritted teeth.  

“Are you sure?” Zoey followed, voice trembling.  

Rumi spun, hating how Zoey shrank back. “I’m not made of glass, Zoey!” she snapped.  

Mira’s voice floated in from the doorway as she arrived home. “What’s going on?” She asked hearing the raised voices. Rumi ignoring her as her eyes shot daggers into Zoey's.  

Zoey reached for Rumi’s wrist, but Rumi yanked it back. “That’s not what I meant, I—”  

“Really? Because from where I’m standing, it sure seems like you can’t trust me to be on my own for five fucking minutes!”  

Rumi stormed towards the front door.  

"Where are you going?" Mira asked, confused and shocked by the whole situation.  

“I’m going out. If that’s 'okay' with you two,” she muttered sarcastically, grabbing the handle without looking at either of them.  

“When will you be back?” Zoey’s voice cracked.  

Rumi scoffed, slamming the door behind her.  

 

The anger bled out immediately. She slid down the door frame, curling in on herself. Why did she always have to be such a bitch? Her fingers dug into her scalp, pulling hard enough to sting as she bit back a sob.  

She didn’t actually want to go anywhere. She just needed a second to breathe. And in joggers and a sports bra, stepping outside meant the paparazzi would have a field day anyway. She considered the gym, but the thought drained her before she’d even moved.  

Through the door, muffled voices. Zoey crying. Mira soothing her, saying Rumi just needed space.  

Rumi stayed there. Feeling the self-hatred bleeding through her bones. She wished she could for once just not fuck everything up.  

 

 

Two hours had passed, and Rumi stayed seated in the exact same position lost in her mind, before the door behind her opened suddenly, dumping her onto her back.  

 

“Rumi?”  

She craned her neck. “Hey Mira.” Her voice sheepish, small.  

“What are you doing?”  

 

“Oh, you know. Just having a lie-down.”  

 

Mira chuckled softly and helped her sit up, closing the door behind them both, and sank down beside her.  

“If I ask if you’re okay, are you going to bite my head off?”  

“…No.” Her voice muffled against her knees.  

Mira wrapped an arm around her shoulders, tugging her in against her chest. “Zoey doesn’t hate you, you know.” Mira was always so quick to read Rumi.  

Rumi whispered, “She must.”  

“Of course not. She’s just worried. We all are.” Mira’s voice softened. “But… we trust you, Rumi. We didn’t mean to smother you. We were just scared.”  

Rumi said nothing, leaning into Mira’s chest.  

They sat like that until Mira picked her up and finally coaxed her back inside.  

 

The days that followed were easier. They didn't follow her around like a puppy anymore, but she still caught them staring at her every now and then. She even found herself talking to Celine more on the phone. The conversations were mostly shallow, but she found them comforting nonetheless, a step in the right direction for their relationship.  

 

But still, something gnawed at her.  

She knew what. She just hated admitting it.  

Because while she scolded Zoey and Mira for hovering, she was guilty of watching them too. The way they moved around each other, brushing shoulders, fingers grazing. The love woven through every little touch.  

And when she’d walked in on them making out on the couch, she’d stood there watching with wide eyes for too long before awkwardly clearing her throat.  

They jumped apart, giggling.  

“It’s fine,” she muttered, cheeks blazing. “Maybe just… I dunno? Get a room? You’ve got two perfectly good ones right over there." Rumi said pointing down the hall.  

 

Zoey snickered. “You’re just jealous.”  

Her words lacked any actual malice, but the words still landed like a punch to the throat.  

 

“I am not!” she spluttered, turning redder by the second. But the truth clawed at her. She was jealous. She yearned to be a part of their intimacy. The comfort of being wanted. She wanted them to want her – not just each other.  

But more than that, she just wanted even a slither of the loneliness to go away. It didn't even have to be with them; she was just craving to be with someone that even wanted her half as much as she wanted them.  

 

That was why when she met Jake, she fell too hard and too quickly.  

Most of their security team was professional, distant- eyes always scanning the crowd for a potential threat – after all, Bobby would only allow them to have the best. But Jake was different  

She met him on a rainy day after a dance practice. Mira and Zoey ran ahead sharing the one umbrella they had thought to pack. Rumi opting that she would be fine with just her hoodie. He came up to her placing his own umbrella over them both pulling her close chuckling. "We wouldn't want our favourite popstar catching a cold now, would we?"  

She stared up at him, he was tall, maybe a couple years older than her, with messy dark hair and smile that looked easy, confident. Sporting a dimple on just the one side.  

"Uh—thank you." She stuttered out, embarrassed as she had stared a little too long.  

"No problem." He winked, like they were already in on some private joke. "I'll accept payment in the form of ramen. You look like the type who eats the spicy packets without even blinking."  

Her lips twitched despite herself. "Maybe."  

From that moment, Jake kept showing up. Little jokes between schedules, small comments that made her laugh when she didn't want to. He noticed things – like how she chewed on her sleeve cuffs when she was concentrating too hard, or how her ears would glow red when he teased her. But most of all, He wanted her, he was affectionate. She didn't have to feel ashamed of her patterns because of course he couldn't see them. And when he touched her arm in passing or slung an arm over her shoulder after a long day, it didn't feel careful or cautious. It didn't feel like he was afraid of her, or watching for cracks like Mira and Zoey did. It was just easy.  

So what if he didn't send her tummy into swirl of butterflies the way the girls did, so what if her heart didn't race in her chest when she saw him. He wanted her , only her. It felt normal. Like she wasn't broken.  

 

Within days, they were dating.  

Zoey was the first to notice. She stormed into the dorm one night, not bothering to greet either girl in the living room. "So, uh, why didn't anyone tell me Rumi's got a boyfriend?"  

Mira looked up from the TV. "Boyfriend?"  

Rumi missed the way Mira's posture stiffened, freezing mid sip of her tea, caught like a deer in headlights. "...oh."  

Zoey whirled on her, wide-eyed. "Oh? That's all you're giving me? 'Oh'?"  

Rumi's cheeks went red. "It's not a big deal."  

Mira's eyes narrowed. "Who is he?"  

"One of the security guys," Zoey answered before Rumi could, flopping on to the couch and taking her phone out to show a headline with a picture of the two of them smiling walking side by side. "Jake, tall, smirky. Hot"  

"Ew Zo." Mira said shoving the phone out of her face  

Rumi's ears were burning now. "It's not – he's just-"  

Zoey gasped, clutching her chest dramatically. "Oh my gosh, you like really like him!" Only Mira could see the way Zoey was trying just a little too hard to be positive of the situation and also saw the slight jealousy in her eyes.  

Rumi gave an embarrassed smile. "I guess I do."  

Notes:

Thanks for the comments and Kudos! Everyone says this but it really does mean the world to me to see what you guys think <3
Next chapter up tomorrow!

Chapter 3

Notes:

Hello, back again.
Hope you enjoy this chapter.

Not any major triggers - just leaning in to some non-con elements but it doesn't actually happen

Things with Jake had been going well. At least Rumi assumed they were, she had never really dated anyone before – Celine had always kept her schedule much too tight for that – as well as that Rumi had never really considered anyone would really want to date her before.  

But, they went on plenty of dates, which he would always show up with flowers or with a small box containing a new piece of sparkly jewelery in – Never mind that it was never even close to her colour – She still loved it.  

He had been insisting that they hang out at his place a lot recently, but Rumi always brushed him off offering some excuse of interviews or practice, which was often partly true, but also, she was nervous. She knew that it was abnormal for a 22-year-old to have almost no experience in the sex department, and she hardly felt that making out with one guy at at an awards after party really counted.  

She was keen however on introducing him to Mira and Zoey. They had of course met before, but not officially as Rumi's boyfriend. Jake had been subtly hinting that Rumi seemed a bit boring and she figured maybe if he had the chance to hang out with the two least boring people in her life he would see her as a little more fun, and thought that if he saw that they seemed to like keeping her around, maybe he would too.  

She often found herself daydreaming about them all getting along perfectly and maybe even going on double dates in the future, it would be nice not always feel like an unwanted third wheel intruding on Mira and Zoey's.  

That's how she found herself stress cleaning the apartment on a Friday night, she wanted everything to be perfect, but she couldn't help the way the nervous energy seemed to tick out of her.  

Zoey was just telling her for the fourth time that she needed to relax, 'We're just having a games night, you need to chill.' When the doorbell rang. Rumi tensed before shooting a sharp glance at both girls. "You guys will act normal right?" She asked seriously.  

Zoey giggled, "I never promised that."  

Rumi groaned and headed to the door plastering a smile on her face. She swung the door open to see Jake leaning on the door frame grinning, a brown paper bag dangling from his hand.  

"Hey, Baby," he said, leaning down to kiss her. He smelled like cologne and cigarettes.  

Rumi's pulse jumps at the term baby. She still doesn't quite believe someone is using that word to describe her.  

She smiles widely telling him to come in.  

Jake steps inside, lifting the bag to show everyone. "Brought something to celebrate." He pulls out a bottle of Jack Daniels and sets it on the counter with a clunk.  

Mira, perched on the couch with her legs tucked under her, raises a brow. Zoey, sprawled beside her, glances between Rumi and the bottle. They both had rarely seen Rumi drink alcohol, let alone whiskey.  

"Whiskey night?" Mira asks dryly.  

Jake smirks. "Why not? Let's turn this into a party!" He turns to Rumi. "Want me to make you one babe?"  

Rumi automatically shakes her head. "Oh – I don't really drink, I'm okay."  

Jake tilts his head, lips twitching downward like he's offended. "What, are you against having fun or something?"  

The words land sharp. Mira and Zoey both straighten slightly, their eyes on Rumi. Her throat tightens and she panics internally. She doesn't want to seem boring, this night was meant to show that she was fun, and two minutes in and she had already ruined it.  

She laughs a little too loud. "Of course not. Alright, just a small one."  

Jake grins, triumphant, and starts pouring.  

Mira and Zoey both exchange a look but say nothing, Rumi is after all, an adult. They open a bottle of wine instead pouring themselves a glass each.  

 

The four of them end up around the coffee table, cards scattered between them, snacks half-forgotten. Rumi laughs too loud when Zoey gets a bad hand. The whiskey burning hot in her cheeks. Jake keeps reaching for the bottle and topping up glass without asking.  

Zoey sips at her wine slowly, watching. Mira tries to keep her tone light, but her eyes stay sharp, tracking how quickly Rumi has begun to sway and monitoring the way her voice slurs more and more as the night goes on.  

She also notices the way Jake doesn't seem interested in the game at all. Every few minutes, he pulls Rumi against him, pressing his mouth to hers. The kisses are messy and seem to Mira to be more about showing possession rather than affection.  

Mira looks away, her jaw tight, but Zoey clears her throat pointedly. "Mmhmm, very cute," She says, trying, and failing, to sound teasing. "How about we actually play the game?" She says glancing at Jake before adding more softly "Your turn Rums." And nudges her gently.  

"Oh right." Rumi giggles fumbling with her hand, her head lulling to one side.  

Mira noticed when Jake reaches over to refill Rumi's glass again, the bottle almost empty. "Hey" She says, her voice firm. "I think Rumi's had enough."  

Jake looks up, his smile vanishing for a moment before carefully returning it. "What's your problem? We're having a good time"  

Mira clenches her fists, but before she can retort, Jake turns to Rumi. "You want another, babe?"  

Rumi hesitates. She feels a bit a sick. But when she looks up at Jake and can see the disappointment steadily increasing in his eyes, she wants to keep him happy, prove that she is fun. "Sure, why not."  

"That's my girl." He says pulling her into him once again while he pours.  

 

 

Not long after, Rumi's barely keeping her head up, resting it against the table, she's no longer capable of playing the game or even holding her cards up. Her hair has come loose and sticks against her forehead.  

The girls watch, disgust rising as Jake keeps pulling her against him to keep her upright, placing his mouth on her hair, her cheek, her lips. Rumi doesn't kiss him back, her eyes are half-closed, her body limp.  

Zoey's stomach twists. Mira, finally having enough, stands up. "Okay, I think that's enough for tonight." She says flatly.  

Jake blinks at her, irritation flashing across his face. "What? We're just getting stated, aren't we Rums?" Rumi only mumbles in response.  

"She is not okay," Mira says, glaring at him now. "She's done."  

Jake scoffs. "Man, you guys are so uptight. Whatever, let's get out of here Rumi."  

They all hear a very quiet. "mm-kay." Slip from Rumi's mouth, though her eyes didn't open. Jake swings her arm around his shoulder and hauls her up taking all her weight.  

Zoey rushes to her side to make sure she doesn't fall and Mira steps in front of him.  

"Uh-uh buddy. She's staying here."  

Jake's whole-body tenses, his free hand clenching into a fist. "She's my  girlfriend. She's coming with me." He says through clenched teeth.  

"Let. Go. Of. Her." Mira says, straightening up to match his height. "Or do I have to call your boss to escort you out of our  apartment?" She threatens.  

"Whatever, I'm out of here." He grunts and drops Rumi roughly. Zoey gasps, managing to catch Rumi before she hits the ground and pulls her into her side. She's whimpering something but neither girl can make it out.  

Jake mutters a low " Crazy bitch." Before slamming the door behind him.  

 

Mira's already by Rumi's side, sliding her arm around Rumi's waste, Zoey still on the other. "Come on, let's get you to bed honey."  

By the time they settle her on to the mattress, Rumi's groaning, her face pale and slick with sweat. Seconds later, she's retching into the bin Zoey shoves under her chin.  

"Shh, it's okay, you're okay." Zoey murmurs, while Mira holds her hair back and wipes her face with a damp cloth.  

Rumi mumbles something incoherent as tears track down her cheeks.  

"We've got you baby girl, you're okay." She says pulling the leader down and allowing her to snuggle into chest, Zoey on her other side.  

She out in seconds and the two girls exchange a serious look before settling into make sure Rumi doesn't choke on her own vomit.  

Notes:

Let me know what you think please <3

Next chapter will be a couple of days because of school.
Love yas <3

Chapter 4

Notes:

Hello! I'm back.
Bit of a longer chapter, and quite heavy so please be warned

Skip past this if you don't want spoilers.
Trigger warnings: Very Dubious consent. A lot of manipulation and not listening when the other person is feeling uncomfortable. Please don't read if this will make you uncomfortable!

Sun filtered through the blinds, warm and far too bright. Zoey pads quietly into the kitchen, hair a wild mess, only one space bun still intact, while Mira nurses a mug of black coffee at the counter. They'd both woken up stiff and sore from the awkward sleeping positions on either side of Rumi, but neither had been willing to leave her alone after last nights events.  

Zoe groans as she sits, grabbing Mira's mug and stealing a sip, grimacing at the lack of sugar.  

"God, I hate him." Mira says deadpanned.  

Zoey smirks groaning in agreement. "Which part? The way he kept pouring her drinks? Or the part where he was trying to shove his tongue down her throat when she could barely keep her eyes open?"  

"All of it." Mira snaps. "And you're forgetting the part where he called me a bitch."  

"Oh my gosh that's right! How could I have forgotten that tiny little detail?" Zoey laughs.  

Mira softens, her voice taking a more serious tone. "I don't like it, if that's what he's like in front of us, what's he like behind closed doors. I don't understand how Rumi can want to be with someone like him."  

"I know but Rumi's never really dated anyone before, and with everything that's happened over the last month I still don't think her self-esteem is through the roof." Zoey says sadly before adding, "We just have to show her that she can do better – do you know anyone who might be better for Rumi?" She places her hand under her chin, pretending to be deep in thought. "I dunno, maybe two girls, one super cute and sweet, the other super hot, a badass, and the best dancer around.... Know anyone like that?" She asks innocently.  

"She's not into us like that Zo, and you need to accept it." Mira says with a laugh watching as Zoey's face turns dramatically glum.  

"Well, what we do then?"  

"I say we kill him." Mira offers, usual deadpan zone not wavering.  

"Ugh, you have no idea how close I was to taking that bottle of whiskey and smacking it over his head!" Zoey says smiling, swinging her arms like she had a baseball bat.  

"Or shove the whole thing where the sun don't shine."  

There laughs are cut off as they hear Rumi shuffling towards the kitchen, her hair tangled, face pale, one of Mira's hoodies drowning her frame. She looks miserable as she joins them at the counter.  

"Are you guys laughing about how god awful I look right now?" Rumi says, her voice rough.  

"You look beautiful." Mira says handing her a glass of water. Rumi grumbles something non-intelligible as she places her head against the marble counter-top groaning.  

"God, I totally embarrassed myself last night, didn't I? I hardly remember anything."  

Zoey exchanges a look with Mira. "You were pretty out of it Ru," She says carefully. "Jake kept pouring you drinks all night. You threw up, but that was after he left, and we looked after you. Nothing embarrassing."  

Rumi winces. "I'm sorry you had to do that. Jake probably thinks I'm an idiot."  

"He was the one who was an idiot, it was obvious you had had enough, you could barely hold your head up. He was acting like he didn't respect you, or us, at all."  

Rumi's stomach twists thinking about how clearly, she must have ruined last night and pulls out her phone seeing no messages from Jake, her chest tightens, and she begins to panic internally. She types out a message, her fingers trembling slightly.  

'Hey, sorry if I was annoying last night. I shouldn't have drank so much. Please don't be mad at me.'  

She hits send, then locks her phone immediately, shoving it back into her pocket like it's burning her.  

"He must have been having a bad day or something. He had been stressed and I'm sure having to deal with me didn't help."  

"Rumi, come on. That's not stress – that's him being a creepy dick. You deserve someone who treats you with respect every single time – not just when it's convenient for them"  

Rumi straightens, defensive now. "You don't know him. He's actually really sweet most of the time. He buys me things, takes me on dates all the time, and always tells me I'm beautiful even when I don't look it."  

Zoey tries to keep her tone softer than Mira had, seeing that Rumi was starting to put her guard up. "Sweet guys don't try to make out with you and feel you up when you're barely conscious Rums."  

Rumi frowns, she couldn't remember that happening. "I'm sure that wasn't his intention. Please can you guys just give him a chance? I promise once you get to know him, he's a really nice guy, this was just a once off." She hears Mira scoff in annoyance. She avoids eye contact choosing to stare at the condensation on her glass before adding weakly, almost pleading now. "Please? I really want this to work, I don't want to lose him and I'm sure he already knows he could get someone better than me, someone who isn't embarrassing."  

Mira growls at her last sentence but Zoey gives her a warning look. "You're not embarrassing Ru, and you deserve to be with someone who sees how amazing you are. But if this is important to you, we will try to give him a chance to prove he's worthy of you, wont we Mira?" Zoey says kicking Mira under the table when she doesn't respond, only then begrudgingly letting out a grunt of agreement.  

"Thanks guys." Rumi says softly allowing Zoey to take her hand for a moment before retreating to her room.  

She tried to do something productive with her day but the fact that Jake still hadn't responded to her message was gnawing at her insides, she checked her phone constantly as if it had perhaps all of sudden stopped alerting her to new notifications. The hours ticked by slowly as she lay on her bed, Zoey had come by multiple times offering her food but she felt too sick to eat anything.  

Finally at around 5 her phone dinged.  

Jake 💘 : 5:04pm  

'I'm not really mad at you, it was a bit of a vibe kill ngl. But it was more your 'friends', they don't like me and they were making it pretty obvious, was kinda uncomfortable how they were acting like they own you. Let's hang out at my place tonight yeh?'  

Rumi felt relief and shame wash through her at the same time, but then also nerves at the idea of going to his place – but after last night she knew rejecting him now was not going to go down well.  

She quickly typed out a reply.  

' Yeah sorry about that, I'm really embarrassed. And Mira and Zoey will get better once they get to know you, they're just protective. I'll come around 7? Xx'  

 

She got up and scrambled around trying to make herself not look so disgusting. She had a shower and was gathering up her things and putting on her favourite jacket, well, it was Mira's jacket which was clear from the way the way she had to roll up the sleeves several times for it to fit, but Rumi stole it so often that Mira had decided to let the girl just keep it, when Mira and Zoey knocked on her door to ask her about dinner but saw she was in the process of doing her make up.  

"Are you going out?" Zoey asked surprised.  

"Yeah, Jake invited me over." She said pausing, mascara wand in hand.  

"And you're going over there tonight?" Mira asked narrowing her eyes.

Rumi frowns. "Yeah, why wouldn't I?"  

Mira opens her mouth to argue, but Zoey gives her a look that says don't , not wanting to get in another argument. "No reason. I have to go make dinner." She stomps back off to the kitchen leaving Zoey and Rumi alone.  

Zoey shuffles further into Rumi's room, sitting by her dresser. "Hey, can I ask you something?" Zoey says lightly. When she sees Rumi posture stiffen, she adds quickly - "Just girl talk."  

Rumi eyes her wearily. "That sounds suspicious already."  

Zoey laughs softly. "Relax. I'm just curious... with you going over to Jake's tonight, it's pretty late already, are you, uh – planning on staying the night?"  

Heat floods Rumi's face instantly. She has an idea of where this conversation is going, and she instantly regrets ever telling them that she was virgin. "I-I don't know. Maybe. Why?"  

"Just wondering if you're ready for that kind of step, you know? Like, if things go there. No judgement, Ru. I just... care. And honestly, after seeing him with you last night, I kinda get the vibe that might be all he's got on his mind."  

Rumi's cheeks burn hotter. She pulls her jacket sleeves tighter around her wishing she could vanish. "I don't think it's like that. He likes just spending time with me too." She says, although her voice lacks conviction.  

Zoey's smile is gentle, but her eyes are searching. "I'm sure he does. I just want to make sure you don't feel pressured in to proving anything." Zoey said as she thought back to how quickly Rumi gave in to drinking when she didn't want to.  

Rumi swallows hard, chewing at her lip. She's quietly grateful Mira isn't here for this- she'd die if Mira were the one asking. Zoey's softness makes it bearable, even if her stomach still twists with embarrassment. "I just don't, you know... don't want him to think I'm weird because I've never done that before."  

"Rumi look at me." Rumi does although eye contact is difficult for her in her current situation. "There is nothing weird about it, everyone goes at their own speed and there's nothing to be ashamed of. And even if you want to keep it that way for a while, there's nothing wrong with that. Don't let him – or anyone – make you feel like you have to."  

Rumi looks down unable to keep the eye contact any longer, but appreciating Zoey's comforting words. "I don't think he would, he's honestly so sweet sometimes, I don't deserve him." She laughs softly.  

Zoey lightly brushes Rumi's cheeks where a stray eyelash had fallen, her eyes sad but gentle. "You deserve someone who goes at your pace Ru, no exceptions."  

Rumi nods, eager to escape. "I should... finish getting ready." She says as she makes a move to gather up her things.  

Smiling, satisfied with the outcome of the conversation Zoey heads out of the bedroom, pausing at the door frame and saying much too loudly over her shoulder. "Just so we're clear we were talking about sex Rumi!" She clarifies  

"Oh my gosh Zoey, shut up! I know." Rumi hushes, throwing a pillow at the other girl who's now laughing running out of the way.  

 

Rumi stands outside Jakes apartment after knocking, she's nervous and still trying to control her heart rate when answers, immediately pulling her into a hug. "There's my girl."  

She relaxes a little when it's obvious he isn't angry with her for last night. But then just as quickly as the relief is there, it's gone. He's now looking her up and down with a frown.  

"What, what's wrong? Have I got something in my teeth?" She says picking at her teeth self-consciously  

"That jacket, it's not yours. It doesn't fit you." He says voice flat.  

Rumi laughs. "Oh, it's Mira's but she gave it to me because I kept stealing it."  

"Take it off." He says, voice still flat.  

"What?"  

"Take it off." His voice now sharp and clipped.  

"W-what? Why? Do you not like it?" She asked eyebrows raised, genuinely confused. She thought she looked good in Mira's jacket.  

Jake's hands fly to his forehead rubbing them through his hair in frustration. "You shouldn't be wearing other people's clothes Rumi. It makes it seem like you two are like together or something."  

"Oh, no-no. The jacket doesn't mean anything, we all steal each other's clothes all the time. It's not a big deal really."  

"I shouldn't have to fucking explain this to you Rumi, it's embarrassing that you're out there walking around in some other persons clothes when we're the ones who are dating. What are people going to think?" His hands begin flying around as he gestures wildly through his anger.  

Rumi tries to stutter out a response, but Jake cuts her off. " Take it off, now." He growls. Rumi does so quickly, confused as to how things went so bad so quickly.  

Jake gives her a tight smile. "Was that so hard? You wear your own clothes, or you can wear mine. Got it?"  

"Got it." Rumi whispers, eyes trained on the floor.  

"Now come on, let me show you around." He says as if everything's fine now, taking her hand and leading her into the apartment.  

His place is big, Huntr/x must be paying he well, Rumi muses. It's everything Rumi would have expected from a bachelor's pad. His spare room has been converted in a gym. There's a PlayStation set up in the living room, his kitchen has a bar section lined with every type of alcohol Rumi can think of, and where one might normally put a dining table, sits a pool table that's been left as if a game had been played recently.  

"So what do you think? It's pretty sweet hey?" He asks, his usual smile back in place.  

"Yeah, it's uh – nice." Rumi doesn't hate it, but she can't help but feel the place could use a little decoration or colour – it just feels cold.  

Jake see's Rumi eyeing the pool table and suggests they play a game and teases Rumi when she says she's never played. She does find herself actually having fun though, Jake's silly, lightly teasing her total lack of skill but still teaching her. When she's struggling to hold the pool cue properly and still hasn't made a single shot, he comes up behind her, reaching around her and guiding her arms and body to hit the ball accurately.  

And okay, maybe Rumi is playing up how bad she is just a little bit. When she finally manages to sink a ball, they both celebrate triumphantly and suddenly they're kissing, and Rumi's actually enjoying herself.  

When he picks her and places her on the pool table, forcing her to straddle her legs around his waist, she feels the nerves kicking in and getting the better off her as she pretends to cough pulling away.  

"You uh-wanna watch a movie or something?" She says still slightly out of breath. Jake smiles placing his forehead against hers. "Sure."  

He leads them to the couch, pulling Rumi into his side whilst scrolling through streaming services. He lands on horror movie. "Oh! We should watch this! It's really good, really scary." He grins devilishly at her  

Rumi's smile drops. "Oh – a horror? I'm not very good with scary movies."  

"It's okay, I'll protect you baby." He says, rolling his eyes, and hits play.  

It's a typical Hollywood horror movie where the families home is haunted by demons and of course they can't just move. Rumi watches on becoming more and more uncomfortable with the general vibe of how demons are betrayed. Evil disgusting monsters who only exist to destroy. She subconsciously tucks her now exposed arms further under the blanket trying to cover the patterns Jake can't even see. Jake, thinking shes just scared, pulls her in closer.  

It's not long after when Jake's forgotten about the movie, his hand on the back of her neck, his mouth on hers. He pulls Rumi on to his lap so she's now straddling his waist. He tugs at her shirt trying to lift it up when Rumi suddenly pulls away.  

"I-I uh... have to go to the bathroom." She says quickly scrambling off him and darting down the hallway. She stands in front of the mirror staring at her reflection for too long.

Come on Rumi, you can do this. People do this all the time. It's totally normal.  

She splashes some cold water on her face and takes a deep breath before heading back out into the living room. Jake's at the kitchen counter, two drinks in hand. Rumi feels nausea rising in her throat just at the thought of alcohol after last night. He goes to hand her a glass.  

"Oh, I'm good actually."  

"Come on, one drink. You're too wound up, you need to relax."  

She sighs and reluctantly takes the glass. She feels herself gag a little at the smell, but it tastes nicer than the whiskey, sweeter, but still very strong. Some sort of vodka mix she figures  

They stand in the kitchen together for while finishing their drinks and talking softly over the music Jake must have put on when she went to the bathroom. The TV's off now so she figures they aren't going to finish the movie which she somewhat grateful for.  

"You know you're so beautiful Rumi." Jake says moving their bodies closer, hands at her waste. Rumi giggles, the alcohol has gone straight to her head, and she feels her cheeks flushing already.  

He picks her up easily placing her on the counter. They continue to kiss, faster than before, more feverish. Jake moves to her neck and pulls her shirt up over her head before continuing to kiss down her jar and moving towards her chest.  

Rumi can't help but push him away gently, panting lightly. "Jake..."  

"Ugh, what now?" But he continues to kiss across her collar bone. "Do you not want me or something?" He mutters against her skin but his tone is playful.  

"Of course I want you – it's just" She trails off, unsure how to continue.  

He removes his lips from her skin to look at her. He looks annoyed, impatient.  

"It's just what?"  

Rumi takes a steadying breath. "It's just... I've never. Never done this before." She quickly blurts out feeling the heat flush through her cheeks.  

He pulls back further. "What? You've never done this? Like – sex – before?" He asks, shocked.  

Rumi can only manage to shake her head 'no' quickly in response, her eyes tracked on a part of the kitchen counter.  

"You're like – what – 22? And you've never had sex?"  

She shakes her head again, shame building thickly in her chest.  

Jake laughs, his tone filled with disbelief and a harsher edge of annoyance. "God, you've never had sex, you can't handle a couple of drinks, you're scared of a movie. I don't want to date someone that's acts like a child. I'm not a babysitter."  

"I- I'm not a child. It just – just never happened for me." She trails off feeling a tears pool in her eyes and blinking them away, not wanting to add to what Jake's implying.  

He leans back in, placing his forehead against hers, face softer now. "Then prove it."  

He starts kissing her again this time moving quicker, pulling her thighs tighter into his waste. She shoves down the thoughts telling her this isn't right and tries to let her body go with the flow.  

Before she knows it Jake's carrying them to his bedroom laying her down on the bed and removing his own clothes. She hesitates but Jake stops her before she can say anything. "Just relax baby, you'll like it I promise."  

The rest is mostly a blur for Rumi, but she remembers the pain as he shoved into her and when she tried to speak up his lips were suddenly on hers shushing her. She finds herself grateful when Jake finally rolls off her, her body uncomfortably slick with sweat.  

She lays in his bed facing away from him but his arm is laid protectively around her waist, too heavy and too hot against her skin.  

She quickly wipes away the tears that track down her cheeks.  

'Why can't I just be normal?' She thinks before closing her eyes begging for sleep to take her.  

 

 

 

Notes:

How are we feeling?
I know I'm sorry. Definitely note the 'It gets worse before it gets better' tag as well...

Thank you guys so much for reading my terrible drabbles, it means so much. Please comment your thoughts <3

Peace

Chapter 5

Notes:

Sorry this took me a while to write. I've been really struggling feeling like I'm not good enough to write this story. And this chapter just feels blegh.

No Jake in this chapter (yay)
TW: Dubious consent aftermath.

Chapter 5  

In the early hours of the morning, Rumi arrived back at the Huntrix penthouse, exhaustion dragging her limbs. She opened the door as quietly as possible, as if the silence might hide the fact she hadn't slept. Her whole body ached, and Jake's snoring, plus the heavy, possessive weight of his arm pinning her to the bed, had only made it worse. He'd barely stirred when she'd told him she had to leave as she had dance practice scheduled with Mira.  

She shut the door behind her, leaning her forehead against the timber, inhaling deeply like it might ground her. Slowly she had shrugged off the leather jacket Jake had shoved at her that morning – too big, too heavy, reeking faintly of his cologne. Mira's jacket was tucked safely in her bag, Somehow, she didn't want Jake's scent and Mira's comfort tangled together.  

Rumi crept toward her room, hoping to disappear unnoticed. But then she froze. A muffled sound drifted from down the hall – a low moan. Her cheeks burned instantly. Against her better judgement, she walked closer, her head tilting towards Zoey's door, left slightly ajar. She stood their listening for too long  

" Fuck, Mira. That feels so good." Then followed by a higher pitched moan, Zoey this time.  

Rumi chest tightened as shame and something else twisted in her gut, and then she snapped herself out of it. Face flaming. What the hell am I doing? She spun and darted into her own room, shutting the door too quickly, creating a harsh noise, her stomach churning.  

She stripped fast and stepped into the shower, cranking the heat until the water nearly scalded. She scrubbed herself raw, harder than necessary, like she could scour away the filth clinging to her skin. But the rougher she went, the worse she felt. Her hips throbbed, her thighs stung where they'd been touched too roughly, and her wristed burned in memory of hands the hadn't held her so much as restrained her. Tears blurred her vision until she was gasping, pressing her forehead to the tile.  

When she finally dragged herself out, the mirror caught her. She tried not to look, but her eyes snagged on the bruises anyway. Purple fingerprints marked across her thighs, glaring at her even against her patterns, fading blue-yellow bruises traced her wrists up to her elbows. And the mess of blotchy purple circles climbing from her jaw to her collarbone.  

Her breath hitched painfully.  

Is it supposed to hurt this much? Her mind betrayed her with another thought - It certainty didn't sound painful for Mira and Zoey...  

Her chest collapsed inward as she wrapped the towel tight around her, staggering to her bed and burying herself face-first with a groan. Why can't I just be normal? Normal people enjoy it, normal people don't panic, normal people don't feel sick. 

She longs for her mum she never knew, she wanted someone to talk to about it. And talking to Celine was off the table. She'd probably have a heart attack at the first mention of sex. She wishes there had been someone to walk her through it, talk to her about how it was going to feel. She thought of talking to Zoey. It would be humiliating but she knew Zoey wouldn't be judgmental. Wouldn't call her a freak at least.  

She was so exhausted she felt her eyes fluttering, Derpy had appeared at some point, his low purrs lulling her into sleep. Then a knock. "Rumi – uh, we didn't realise you were home... Want some coffee?" Mira sounded hesitant on the other side of the door. Awkward. Thoughts of what she had overheard before flooded Rumi's mind and the flush returned to her cheeks. God, do they know I heard? Do they think I'm some creepy perv?  

"Uh-sure. I'll be out in a minute."  

She heard Mira walking away and got up to get changed, sighing as she realised she would have to go back to wearing hoodies or turtlenecks to cover the bruises. She did not want to have that conversation right now.  

She padded out to the kitchen and saw Mira and Zoey sitting at the counter. Their posture to stiff, too deliberate. Zoey's lips were twitching like she was trying not to laugh.  

Mira slid a coffee towards Rumi. "So uh-" She cleared her throat. "When did you get back? We didn't realise you were home until we heard the shower running."  

"About seven." Rumi said staring into her mug.  

"Oh. Uh-huh. Right..." Mira was fiddling with the handle of her mug. "You didn't – uhm.. Hear anything..?" Mira stuttered out. Rumi hated how cute her voice sounded when she was flustered.  

"What Mira's trying to ask is did you hear us having sex?" Zoey said as if it was the most casual topic in the world. Rumi choked on her coffee.  

"Zoey!" Mira exclaimed.  

"Gosh you two, it's nothing to be embarrassed about, it's just sex!" When Zoey saw how red the other two were she rolled her eyes playfully. She had always been the most comfortable talking about this topic. "We didn't think you'd be home that early, so, uh...volume wasn't a top priority." Rumi choked again  

"I-it's fine, I barely heard anything." Which was an obvious lie.  

Zoey just winked at her like she had just confirmed everything. Mira buried her face into her hands.  

The silence stretched until Mira tried again. "Sorry about that... anyway! So why are you back so early? You look exhausted." Mira's eyes narrowed as she properly looked at Rumi for the first time that morning, seeing the dark circles under her eyes and the way she shrunk just a little further into her hoodie than normal. Something was off and Mira could feel it.  

"Just didn't get much sleep. Jake snores." Rumi said not taking her eyes off the mug.  

"Did something happen? You guys get in a fight or something?" Mira pressed further.  

"What? No, of course not, I'm just tired." Rumi said, her words coming out more defensive than she had meant. Mira and Zoey shared a glance.  

"Why don't you get some more rest? We don't have dance practice until 11 anyway." Zoey offered  

"Mmm that might be nice. You guys will wake me up?"  

"Of course, now go, you're making me tired just looking at you." Zoey shooed her away.  

They waited for her door to shut before Mira spoke up. "I have a bad feeling about this. I don't like it, I don't like him." Her hands gripping the counter too tightly.  

"I know, I have a bad feeling too, but if we keep badgering her about it, she's just going to retreat from us, you saw how defensive she got. We just need to be there for her. Show her we support her no matter what."  

"I don't support him, Zoey." Mira said through clenched teeth.  

"And if you keep telling her that, you're only going to push her further to him."  

Mira growled. Zoey put a comforting hand on her back. "It'll be okay babe." She reassured, but if she was honest with herself, she had just as bad a feeling about it as Mira.  

 

It had just past one when Rumi woke up to a knock on her door. She groaned pulling the blanket tighter around herself, but the door creaked open anyway, Zoey peeking her head inside with a tray balanced carefully in her hands. "Rise and shine, sleepyhead. I brought lunch."  

Rumi pushed herself up quickly, panic flaring. "Lunch? What time is it?"  

"Past one," Zoey said cheerfully, setting the tray down on the bedside table. "Relax. Mira cancelled practice this morning when she saw how wiped you looked."  

Rumi's heart jumps into her throat. Mira never allowed them to miss practice, even when they were sick. "Wait-what? We're supposed to-"  

Rumi makes a move to get up but Zoey waves her off, settling Rumi back down onto the bed. "Don't stress. Mira doesn't mind at all, she went anyway saying something about needing to work out her muscles or she'd go crazy – but she didn't want you dragging yourself out of bed half dead."  

Rumi sinks back against the pillows shame filling her. God she was pathetic, can't even make it to dance practice. "I could've-"  

"Shh," Zoey interrupts, pushing a spoonful of noodles and kimchi toward her lips with mock seriousness. "Eat. Doctor Zo says so."  

Rumi huffs, but lets out a tiny laugh, accepting the spoonful. The warmth spreads through her chest, soothing if only for a moment.  

They eat in quiet for a few minutes, Zoey sneaking little glances at her. Then, casually, Zoey sets her plates down.  

"So..." She starts, her tone light and sing-song. "How was last night?"  

Rumi stiffens. "What do you mean?"  

Zoey wiggles her eyebrows dramatically. "What do you think I mean? You stayed over at Jake's. Don't tell me you just watched movies and held hands."  

Rumi's face burns hot. She buries herself deeper in the blanket. "Zo..."  

Zoey gasps, clasping her hands together in mock delight. "Oh my god – you guys so did it! Ru, you had your first time!" Her voice was loud, dramatic, and overly excited. "I can't believe it, our baby's all grown up!"  

"Zoey!" Rumi squeaks, horrified, dragging the blanket over her head.  

Zoey cackles, leaning closer, trying to coax Rumi out from under the blanket. "Okay, okay, sorry. I'll stop." She pauses, her tone quieter now. "But seriously Ru. How was it?"  

Rumi peaks out, her face still crimson. "It was... fine."  

" Just fine? That's all your giving me?" Her voice isn't accusatory or judgmental, just expectant.  

Rumi hesitates, and she looks away from Zoey. "It hurt. Like a lot. Is that... is that normal?"  

Zoey frowns, then leans in gently. "You're first time can be a little painful. My first time with dude was a little bit. But we took it slow, focused on foreplay. And we talked a lot, and it got better. Did you tell him it was your first time?"  

Rumi's face flames hotter, shame crawling over her skin, she hesitates, then nods.  

"And was he careful? Did he take it slow? Did he check in with you?"  

"Rumi's pulse spikes and she can't meet Zoey's eyes. "He was... caring." She says, her voice quiet. She feels Zoey stiffen at her hesitation and quickly goes to defend. "I just... I didn't say anything. That's on me."  

Zoey exhales sharply, fighting the urge to argue. "No, Rums. That's not on you. He should've been paying attention."  

Rumi fidgets with the corner of her blanket, shame creeping higher. "I'll... I'll be better next time."  

Zoey's heart squeezes. She tilts her head, softening her tone again. "Hey. You don't have to prove anything to him – or anyone. You know that right?"  

"Mmhm." Rumi says but lacking any conviction.  

Zoey sighs. "If you do want to try again, maybe you can try talking to him. Try extending the foreplay until you're ready, tell him what feels good and what doesn't. You can work together and see what works for you two. Sex is all about communication. And if it hurts, you try something else that doesn't. There's no one way to do it, everyone's different. And if you don't want to? That's totally okay too. You don't owe him that."  

For the first time, Rumi risks glancing up. Zoey's gaze is warm, steady, and it makes something deep inside her ache.  

"Thanks," Rumi whispers.  

Zoey grins, trying to lighten the mood. "Of course. Who else is gonna give you the awkward sex talk you never asked for?"  

Rumi actually laughs, small but real, and Zoey beams as though she had won a prize.  

Zoey leans back, smirking. "Oh, and another tip – get some lube. The more the better!"  

Rumi's entire face goes crimson. "Zoey!" She squeaks, shoving at her with both hands.  

Zoey giggles, darting for the door before Rumi can throw a pillow at her. "What? It's practical advice. Mira and I go through like a bottle a week."  

"Out!" Rumi hisses, burying her face in her blanket as Zoey's laughter echoes down the hall.  

Despite herself, Rumi feels the corner of her mouth twitch, the heaviness in her chest a little lighter than before.  

 

 

The afternoon passes them by quickly. Mira comes home and they spend the afternoon together on the couch. Rumi trying not to worry about the fact that Jake hadn't messaged her today. He's probably just busy, he does have a life outside of you. She tries to ignore the thought clawing at her chest that maybe last night was terrible, and he doesn't want her anymore. Who would want to be with a loser with no experience?  

She's broken out of her thoughts when she here a knock on the door. "Who's that?" Mira asks  

Rumi shrugs and gets off the couch to open the door.  

"Celine, hi I wasn't expecting you." Rumi says opening the door wider for her to enter.  

"Yes well, you haven't been replying to my messages again. And I was in the area and thought I would drop in and see how you girls managing. See for myself that you were okay Rumi" She says in her usual business-like tone.  

Rumi feels guilty, she knew she had dropped the ball. She had just been busy.  

"Oh. I- had been meaning to reply, I just... forgot."  

One brow arches. "Hmm."  Celine doesn't push, but the weight of her stair makes Rumi squirm.  

"Shall I make us some tea?"  

"Yes. That would be lovely."  

Rumi, grateful for a task, gets to work. She was always so on edge when Celine was around these days. They had talked, but there was still lingering tension in every conversation.  

They all make idle chit-chat, Celine asking Mira about her dance practice and the other girls about the general day to day of being an idol, making sure they were still keeping their training up and not letting there guard down now that the demons weren't as much of a threat.  

There was an awkward lull in the conversation after a while. Rumi playing with her braid as Celine tapped her foot on the chair leg.  

"So-" Celine starts suddenly making Rumi jump. "Rumi, when exactly were you planning on telling me you that you had a boyfriend?" Rumi chokes on her tea, Celine giving her a disapproving look until she manages to compose herself.  

"Oh- I-I assumed you knew, it's been all over social media." Rumi says tense.  

"You know I don't indulge in that stuff, rots your brain."  

Zoey muffles a laugh in her cup but stiffens when Celine's sharp gaze darts to her.  

She then focuses back in on Rumi. "I heard about it from Bobby, I would have much rather found out from you Rumi." She says, voice filled with disappointment. Rumi just looks away under her intense gaze. "Never mind. So, tell me about him"  

Rumi stiffens. "About... Jake?"  

"Yes. His Family? His background? What sort of man is he? Where did he grow up? What are his ambitions beyond being security staff?" Each question drops like a bullet point on an agenda.  

Rumi blinks, fumbling. "I-I don't know all of that yet. We haven't really... Talked about, um, long-term stuff." She tugs at her sleeve, cheeks hot. "I just... like being around him."  

Celine tilts her head, unimpressed. Her silence makes Rumi squirm harder.  

Then, with the same blunt tone: "I admit, I was a little surprised to hear you had a boyfriend. You've never shown any interest in anyone before. To be frank, I assumed..." She gestures between Mira and Zoey, "The three of you were already together."  

Rumi almost drops her mug. "What? No! No, no, no! It's not like that, I mean obviously Mira and Zoey are together, but n-not me, not with me!"  

Zoey raises her brows, lips twitching at how flustered Rumi is. "Gee, Ru, you don't have to protest that much." She says, mock offended.  

Celine takes another sip of her tea watching the three.  

"N-no I didn't mean it like-like that . It's not that I don't – That I wouldn't want – I just meant that – God! It's just not like that, okay?!" She says beyond flustered. Even Mira giggles a little bit now. "We get it Rumi, it's okay." She says, trying to put the girl out of her misery.  

"Just to be clear, I wouldn't have minded if you were. The way you act together, the closeness – it would make sense." Celine says evenly.  

Rumi flames hotter, feeling like she was going to combust with embarrassment. "Well, were not!"  

Zoey beams, clearly enjoying her fluster.  

Rumi shifts again, scratching at her neck, too hot. Celine's eyes narrow instantly. "What in God's name is that?" Making a move closer to Rumi, who in-turn steps back, hand freezing mid action over the hickey on her neck.  

"It's – uh – it's nothing." Rumi blurts, yanking her collar higher  

Zoey perks up, a laugh bubbling out before she can stop it. "This will be good." She whispers to Mira amused. Mira's jaw tightens, her expression shading darker, but says nothing.  

"Are they hickeys?! Rumi!" Celine chastises. Reaching to pull down on the collar to get a better look.  

Rumi doesn't answer.  

"Well, I hope you are planning on covering them for interviews-" Celine stops abruptly, the words hanging too close to years of ordering Rumi to hide her demon patterns.  

The effect on the room is immediate. Mira and Zoey both stiffen, any laughter forgotten. Rumi visibly flinches and takes another step back shrinking into herself.  

"That was out of line. It's not my place. You can do what you like with your body."  

Rumi shifts awkwardly from one foot to the other. "It's okay, I know you didn't mean it like that. I wasn't planning on broadcasting my hickeys to the world anyway."  

Celine smiles softly. "Good."  

The rest of the conversation flows a bit easier than before, more casual. When Celine rises to leave, she smooths her coat. "I would like you to arrange a time for me to meet him," she says briskly, as though scheduling a contract review. "Properly. Soon."  

Rumi blinks. "Meet... Jake?"  

"Yes." Celine's tone is cool, professional. "I'd like to see what he's like for myself. Make sure he is good enough for you." She then gives a polite nod to the girls and leaves.  

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Notes:

The next chapter is ready to post and should be up pretty soon.
I hope you guys are still at least somewhat enjoying the read
Love ya <3

Chapter 6

Notes:

Please read!
So this one is very heavy, heavier than any of the last so please take caution reading this. It's really only angst and sadness in this chapter.
If you want to stop reading now that's absolutely so fine, don't push yourself for the sake of my shitty writting
I promise it will start to get better but we have at least another 3 chapters of things absolutely sucking for Rumi
Through this chapter I'm trying to get across that even with Jake aside, Rumi isn't doing well in herself, she still struggling deeply with the shame and self-loathing that came for years of being told that their was something wrong with her, she was a mistake, and something to be fixed - not enough as she is. And thennnnn we have Jake on top of all this, proving her insecurities. Rumi still is terrible at listening to Zoey or Mira, and also very reluctant to share her emotions with anyone.

Trigger warnings: Self-harm. Domestic Violence, Rape/Non-con. Similar to chapter 4 but the themes are stronger in this chapter

The three girls arrived home late in the afternoon the next day, all three exhausted from filming an ad for a skin care company. Rumi trailed in last, lingering behind the other two. Her shoulders were tight, her oversized hoodie swallowing her frame. The sleeves tugged so low they nearly hid her hands.  

The shoot had been bad from start to finish. She had to spend an extra half an hour in makeup than the other girls as they required a specific outfit that wouldn't cover her neck or wrists – she was grateful she had her own private booth for that, and even more grateful when the companies makeup artist didn't question, just covered them without looking Rumi in the eye. 

The filming itself was painful. She'd stumbled over the same line over and over until the director's polite smile had thinned into something tight and brittle. The girls had reassured her it was fine, of course, but Rumi knew she was holding everyone up and that made matters worse. Each failure was carved deep into her chest, a reminder that she wasn't good enough – not as a singer, not as a performer, not even as a person. 

She had been hoping to see Jake there as a part of their security detail, but he mustn't have been rostered. She hadn't heard from him since the last night, and anxiety was clawing at her chest. 

Zoey groaned into a pillow as she collapsed on the couch. "That was brutal." 

"You were fine," Mira said, tugging the pillow away from her face and offering a kiss to her temple. "It was still fun."  

Rumi forced a sharp laugh, but it cut too high. "Yeah, real fun. Watching me screw up for two hours straight." 

Zoey blinked up at her, brows knitting. "Ru, it wasn't that bad -" 

"It was." Rumi cut her off flatly, bitterness dripping from her words. "I couldn't even get one stupid line right." 

Mira's arms folded across her chest, her eyes narrowing as she studied her. "You're exhausted. You're being too hard on yourself." 

"I'm fine." 

"You don't look fine." Mira leaned forward now, voice softer. "You've barely spoken since we left the studio. What's going on?" 

"I am fine ." 

"Rumi-" 

"I said I'm fine!" The words ripped from her throat sharper than she intended, slicing through the room like glass, Zoey flinched, but Mira remained unfazed, her analysing gaze not shifting from Rumi.  

The shame hit instantly, hot and choking. Rumi dropped her gaze, voice crumbling. "...Sorry. I didn't mean that." 

Zoey quickly scooted closer, looping an arm around her shoulders, trying to diffuse the situation, she was always the glue trying to keep everyone together, everyone happy. She felt she wasn't doing a good job of it lately. "It's okay. We know you didn't mean it." 

Mira's eyes softened, but the worry didn't fade. "You don't have to snap at us just because we care, Ru. That's all this is – we're worried." Her voice dropped lower. " I'm worried. You haven't been yourself for a while now." 

When Rumi didn't respond and continued to stare at her feet, she continued. "I know what it feels like to always think you need to be perfect. I grew up like that too – always competing, always knowing it would never be enough. It nearly broke me. But it's okay to stuff up, Rum. It doesn't make you any less." 

Rumi gave her a jerky nod, but it was hollow. She didn't believe her. Not really. Because Mira was strong, talented, someone who carried love and care in everything she did. Mira had every right to stumble sometimes – she was already enough. Rumi wasn't. Rumi was the mistake, the half-demon who should've never existed.  

She let Zoey tug a blanket across all three of them as they pressed into a heap of tangled limbs. Rumi allowed herself to relish in their warmth on either side of her. She knew she wasn't supposed to be thinking like this anymore, she was supposed to be better. Zoey threw out silly suggestions about dinner (pancakes and ice-cream, one big bowl of cereal with three spoons), she was clearly trying to make Rumi feel better, and it sort of worked, Rumi offering a weak laugh. 

But the ache never left her chest. Every few minutes her eyes flicked down to her phone, thumb hovering over the black screen. He still hadn't messaged her. Her stomach knotted tighter with every minute.  

Without even realising it, she dug her nails into the soft flesh of her arm beneath the hoodie, pressing crescents into her skin until it hurt. The sting kept her grounded, punished her for being so pathetic. 

Mira noticed first. Her hand shot out, catching Rumi's wrist gently but firmly. "Hey, don't do that." Her voice was steady, but her eyes were wide, pained. 

Rumi froze, caught, shame flooding her face. She tried to yank her arm back, but Zoey had already reached for her other hand, sandwiching her between them. 

"Ru," Zoey murmured, her thumb rubbing lightly over Rumi's knuckles. "You don't need to hurt yourself." 

"I wasn't -" Rumi started, but the lie tangled in her throat. She dropped her head instead trying to hide her face in her hair. 

Mira's voice was gentle, almost breaking. "You don't have to punish yourself just for being human. You messed up a line. That doesn't mean you're worthless." She tugged her closer until Rumi's head rested against her shoulder. "It doesn't mean anything except that your tired." 

The blanket seemed heavier now, their hands anchoring hers, warmth pressed into her sides. Rumi wanted to believe them. She wanted to sink into it and let herself be held. But underneath the soft touch, the sting of her nails still pulsed, and the heaviness that had settled in her chest wouldn't leave her. 

Her phone buzzed then, shattering the fragile moment. Rumi's heart lurched and wrenched her hands out of both girls grasp so quickly they jumped. 

Jake 💘 : 5.35pm:  

Hey beautiful, sorry I haven't messaged you, been busy. Been thinking about last night all day. Come over tomorrow night. Dinners on me."  

Relief washes over her so quickly it makes her dizzy. He still wants me. He cares.  

 

The next night, Jake greets her at the door with open arms, kissing her temple. "There's my girl. God, I missed you." Rumi smiles and kisses him, tasting beer on his breath but doesn't think much of it. 

Instead of ordering takeout, he leads her straight into the kitchen, handing her a beer from a 6-pack in the fridge and cracking it open for her. She takes it automatically. "We're cooking tonight, Italian!" he announces proudly, pulling out pasta along with other tins and vegetables. 

Rumi laughs, tying her hair up as he thrusts a wooden spoon at her. It's messy, silly – flour dusted across the counter, Jake showing off his knife skills and sneaking kisses whenever he got the opportunity. She finds herself smiling to herself. 

Music hums from his speaker, some bright pop hit. When she recognises the chorus, she can't help herself – she starts humming, then softly singing along. 

Jake leans against the counter, smirking. "So, anything new with you, apart from being the hottest idol on the planet?" 

Rumi feels her cheeks warm. She hesitates, then smiles. "Yes actually, Celine wants to meet you. Wants to find out who I've been spending all my free time with." 

Jake stiffens, then sets his knife down with a sharp clink. "..What?" 

"She found out about us the other day. She wants to meet you properly." Rumi fiddles with the spoon, eyes darting down. Was it too soon? Had she blown it?  

He groans dramatically, rolling his eyes before forcing a smile. "Of course she does. Fine. I'll do it. See how good I am? I didn't even complain." 

Rumi blinks. "...You did complain." 

"Yeah, but only a little. Most guys wouldn't even agree to it." He winks. "I'm great with mums anyway, don't worry – I'll charm her." 

Her stomach twists. "She's not my mum. I told you that." 

Jake shrugs unbothered. "Close enough." 

The comment stings, but she swallows it down, forcing herself to smile. "Thanks... I appreciate it." 

"Anything for you, baby." He says kissing her cheek. 

 

Dinner is almost ready, it smells good, the laughter bubbles up again and Rumi allows herself to relax back into the casual night. The song on the speaker changes, another pop hit that had just come out and had immediately topped the charts. Without thinking, she drifts into singing again, voice slipping into the chorus effortlessly. 

"Alright enough." Jake snaps the lid on the pot too hard and turns around to face her. 

Rumi falters mid-line. "-What?" 

"Do I have to hear you singing here too? Isn't it enough that you're on every damn station, every time I turn on the TV, when I'm working? Give my ears a break." 

Her chest squeezes. "Y-you don't like my singing?" 

"It's fine on stage. That's your job. But this is my house. I don't want to feel like I'm at a concert every time you open your mouth." 

The words cut deep. She tugs at her sleeves. Even the one thing I'm good at annoys him. "...Sorry. I didn't know you didn't like it." 

There's a brief silence, Rumi blinks away a tear quickly.  

"Come on, don't pout. We were having a good night." He comes over hugging her from behind and placing a kiss on her hair.  

She nods, swallowing the ache. 

 

They have dinner, it's a little quieter than normal but Jake fills the silence like nothing's wrong. She clears the plates, stacking them into the dishwasher. Jake comes up behind wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her into him. He kisses her neck and pulls her around to face him. "How about we have some dessert?" He whispers 

"Oh, did you make something?" She asks innocently and then from his reaction she realises what he meant. "Oh- oh, right."  

He laughs, pulling her into a deep kiss, not waiting for permission to slide his tongue into her mouth.  

He lifts her easily on to the counter again and goes straight to removing her sweater. Taking even less time than the first. She lets it go on for a while before she builds up the courage to talk to him, thinking about Zoey's advice. 

"Wait," she says quickly pressing a hand to his chest. "Jake, can we... talk for a second?" 

He quirks a brow. "Talk? Baby we talk all the time." 

Her stomach knots but she tries to be brave. "It's just that... last time... it hurt quite a bit-" 

"Baby, that's normal. You'll get used to it." He cuts her off. 

"I-I know-" She smiles, feeling awkward at expressing herself, her cheeks flaming. "It's just that, I was talking to Zoey about it and-" She doesn't notice the way Jake stiffens. "-she was saying that if we um- try talking about it, about what feels... good... It might help." She dares a glance at his face. 

His smile is tight, eyes narrowed. "You've been talking to Zoey about our sex life?" His voice is low, dangerous. 

Her throat goes dry. "N-no, not like that-" She scrambles to explain herself, but he cuts her off with a low laugh.  

"You think that's okay, sitting around gossiping about me with your little friends?" 

She feels a spike of anger flare up in her chest, feeling defensive at the tone he was using when speaking of Zoey. "We weren't gossiping. She my friend, she's just trying to help." 

His grip on her tightens. "Oh yeah? You think that's what she's up to? Trying to help us? She doesn't want to help! She just wants you for herself!" He's yelling now. But Rumi doesn't want to back down. 

"We are just friends. How many times do I have to explai-" She's cut off with a sudden powerful slap to her cheek. 

Silence.  

Tears pool to Rumi's eyes at the sting. But she doesn't notice. She's too surprised. The anger she had felt before drains out of her body instantly and she feels nothing.  

Then Jakes hands are on her cheeks, wiping the tears. She flinches.  

"Oh god baby, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean it." He says frantic. She just stares. 

"Please, please don't hate me." He's crying now, ugly sobs. "You just make me so crazy. You know I'd never hurt you on purpose." He leans his forehead into hers. 

"Please, please say something. I'm sorry! It's never going to happen again. You just made me so angry, I don't know what came over me." 

You just make me so crazy. You just made me so angry. She made him do this? 

He continues to cry, his head rested over her heart, making her chest uncomfortably wet. She sits frozen until, despite herself, instinct drags her arms up to comfort him. "...it's okay. I'm sorry too."  

He clings to her tighter, his lips finding hers. She flinches away, but he whispers against her mouth, "Please, I just need to feel close to you to you. Please Ru." 

She doesn't move, doesn't react. But she doesn't stop him either. 

They end up in his bed again. Like before, there's no gentleness, no pause to ask what she wants, no attempt at the communication Zoey had told her about. Jake just takes, and she lets him. She lies still and just stares at the ceiling, counting the beats of her own heart until it's over.  

She doesn't feel the sting on her cheek anymore, or the ache between her thighs. She feels nothing but the shame deep in her chest. 

You did this, you made him do it.  

She wonders idly if it's the demon blood in her that made him do it. Maybe, even if he doesn't know, he can sense it. The evil inside her.  

Notes:

offt this was hard to write
I PROMISE at some point soon, we will beat up Jake, and everything will be okay.

Chapter 7

Notes:

Short and angsty - just the way we like it

TW: previous domestic violence referenced

Rumi woke to the smell of sweat mixed with cologne and the weight of Jake’s arm pressing too heavily across her ribs. She lay there for a long moment, staring at the ceiling, feeling nothing and everything all at once. There were feelings buried deep somewhere—anger, shame, something that wanted to claw its way out—but they were muffled, unreachable. Just a hollow space in her chest where something should be.

She shifted slightly, careful not to wake him, but his grip only tightened.

Jake stirred, groggy, pressing a kiss to her shoulder. “Morning, baby.” His voice was scratchy, still heavy with sleep.

She hummed something noncommittal, pulling herself out of bed. She could feel the bruise throbbing faintly on her cheekbone beneath the makeup she’d slept in. The memory flickered through her mind, but it was like watching it happen from a distance. Not real. Not hers.

“Where are you going?” Jake’s voice was rough with sleep, but the suspicion in it was already sharp.

“Home,” Rumi said quietly, reaching for her hoodie. “We’ve got practice with Mira later. I need to get ready.”

Jake pushed himself upright, scrubbing a hand over his face. “It’s six-thirty. You could stay a while longer. You hardly spend any time here as it is.”

Rumi froze with her hoodie halfway on. “I know, I just… need to shower. And grab some stuff before practice.”

His eyes narrowed slightly. “Is this about last night? Rumi, I said I was sorry.”

Her breath caught. Heat crept up her neck, but she forced herself to shake her head. “No. It’s not that. I just need to shower, that’s all.”

“You can shower here,” he said, irritation flicking into his tone. “I’ve got hot water too, you know.”

Rumi’s fingers twisted in the fabric of her sleeve. “I—I don’t have my stuff here. Clothes, makeup, everything I need. It’s easier if I just go home.”

Jake let out a short, sharp laugh. “Sounds like excuses to me.”

“They’re not,” Rumi said quickly, her voice pitching higher than she wanted. “I just don’t have any of my things here. That’s all.”

Jake leaned back against the headboard, crossing his arms. For a moment he looked ready to argue again, but then his face smoothed into a softer expression, a smile tugging at his lips. “Alright. Then go get your stuff. Bring it back here after. Problem solved.”

Rumi hesitated. “I… I don’t know if that’s—”

“Baby,” Jake cut in, his voice dripping with exaggerated patience. “Come on. What’s really the difference? You spend all your free time with Mira and Zoey anyway. Don’t you think they’d rather have some space to themselves? They’re a couple, Ru. You’re always third wheeling.”

The words lodged sharp in her chest. She opened her mouth to protest, but nothing came out.

Jake reached over, brushing his knuckles against her cheek as if to be comforting. “With me, you’re not a third wheel. You’re the only one I want around.”

She said nothing

"Go there, grab everything you need, and come back." He brushed a soft kiss against the side of her mouth.

Rumi just nodded, agreeing to his command.

Jake smirked, satisfaction glinting in his eyes even as his tone turned syrupy sweet. “That’s my girl. I’ll cook us breakfast while you’re gone.”

 

⸻

 

Rumi slipped quietly into the penthouse, the weight of her bag tugging at her shoulder. She kept her hood up, and her eyes down. But Mira was there — sitting stiffly at the counter, flipping through a notebook with unfinished song lyrics, coffee in hand. Her sharp eyes flicked up instantly, a surprised smile lighting up her features.

"Hey Rum, you're back early." She said pleased.

Rumi froze mid-step. “Yeah...Hey.” Her voice was quiet, she had been hoping to slip in unnoticed.

Rumi kept her gaze down but as she passed, Mira’s eyes narrowed studying her more closely before she pushed back her chair and walked closer. “What happened to your face?”

Rumi’s heart hammered. She tugged the hood tighter, but Mira reached out, catching her chin gently and tilting her head, Rumi tried not to flinch but her body acted on it's own. Even through the makeup she had applied this morning, the swelling bruise was faintly visible. Mira’s eyes darkened. “Who did this?”

“I—it’s nothing. Just… a stray demon. On the way to Jake’s.” The lie tumbled out too quickly, her throat closing around the words.

Mira’s jaw clenched. “You're lying to me.”

Zoey appeared then, stretching and yawning dramatically, unaware of the tense scene unfolding in front of her. "Rumi! You're home" She made a move to run and hug their leader but faltered inches away staring at Rumi's face, eyes clouded with worry. "Your face... Ru-Ru, what happened?"

"Nothing." Rumi said tightly.

Zoey made a move to brush her thumb over the bruise but Rumi jerked her head away quickly.

“Ru… please. Talk to us. Whatever’s going on, we can handle it together.” Zoey said softly

Rumi’s mouth opened, and for a second the truth clawed its way up her throat. But then she saw the fear in Zoey’s eyes, the fury simmering in Mira’s, and shame crushed her flat. She snapped her jaw shut, staring at the floor.

“Rumi,” Mira pressed, softer now, but desperate. “Please. Tell us.”

“I did tell you.” The words were brittle, breaking as they left her. She turned and headed for her room, shutting the door behind her.

Mira stood there, fists clenching and unclenching. “She’s lying. I know she’s lying.”

Zoey rubbed her back gently. “I know. But pushing her—she’ll just shut us out more than she already is.”

Neither of them noticed the sound of zippers behind Rumi’s door, the shuffling of clothes into a bag.

 

 

Rumi emerged from her room not long after with two duffel bags slung over each shoulder, hood pulled low. Her eyes were fixed on the floor as she moved quickly toward the front door.

Zoey spotted the bags instantly. “Rumi… where are you going?” Her voice was shaky, the question pleading.

Rumi didn’t slow. “Out.”

Zoey stepped forward following her, panic edging her voice. “You’re not going back there, are you?" And when Rumi didn't answer "When are you going to be back?"

Rumi froze. Her shoulders tensed, "I don't know." Her voice barely audible. She kept moving.

That was enough for Mira. She moved before she even thought, planting herself in front of the door, arms crossed tight across her chest. “No. You’re not going back to him.”

Rumi stopped short, her throat tightening. “Mira, move.”

“Not until you tell us the truth.” Mira’s voice was fierce, but her eyes shone with fear. “What happened to your face? Did he hit you?”

Rumi’s hands clenched around the strap of her bag. “I told you. It was a demon—”

“Bullshit!” Mira snapped, her voice breaking with fury. “After how many years you’ve spent lying to us, do you think I can’t tell the fucking difference?”

 

Zoey’s chest seized at the sharpness. She couldn’t take it anymore. In two strides she slipped between them, her small frame standing as a buffer. “Hey—hey, it’s okay!” she rushed out, her words tumbling over each other. “She fought a demon, fine, we’ll go with that. It’s okay, Ru. You’re safe now. Let’s just sit down and talk, please—”

Her eyes darted desperately between them. She knew Rumi was lying. She knew Mira knew it too. But all she wanted was to stop the shouting before it tore the air apart. The tension twisted her stomach, dragging her straight back to every screaming match she’d tried to mediate as a child, her parents never listening no matter how much she begged.

But this time, it was like she wasn’t even there.

Neither Rumi nor Mira moved their eyes to her. Rumi’s jaw trembled, Mira’s glare burned hot, voices cutting sharper and sharper, like Zoey’s words hadn’t even landed.

“Move, Mira.” Rumi’s voice cracked on the word, raw and desperate.

“No.” Mira’s voice was firm. Final.

Rumi’s chest burned, shame and fury tangling until she couldn’t tell which was which. “You don’t own me!” she shouted, the sound hoarse. “You can’t keep me locked up here like a child!” Her patterns were flaming magenta now but neither girl flinched at harsh colours.

“Not until you tell us the truth,” Mira shot back, softer this time but unrelenting.

“I can’t,” Rumi whispered, her voice small, strangled. She almost broke then—but shoved it down, blinking hard. Her grip tightened on the bag, and with a sudden force she shoved past Zoey and Mira both, yanking the door open.

“Rumi, please!” Mira’s voice cracked, raw now. “You’re not okay, you’re falling apart and you’re running straight into his arms like he’s the answer when he’s the fucking problem!”

Zoey stumbled, her hand shooting out to catch Rumi’s sleeve. “Ru—please. Don’t go back to him. Just… stay. We’ll figure this out together. Please.”

For a heartbeat, Rumi stilled. Her hand trembled on the doorknob. But then Jake’s words echoed cruelly in her head They don’t want you. You’re just a third wheel.

She tore her sleeve free and stepped into the hallway. The door slammed shut behind her.

 

 

The harsh sound echoed around the apartment and then plunged into to silence. For a beat neither of them moved, as if the shock of it all had pinned them in place.

Then Mira exploded. “What the fuck are we supposed to do now?” Her voice cracked under the weight of it, raw with fear and fury. She paced the living room in sharp lines, hands tangling in her hair. “She’s walking straight back to him—straight back to whatever he’s doing to her—and we just let her go!”

She turned, eyes burning, voice rising. “Do we follow her? Do we call Bobby? Do we just sit here like idiots while she—” She cut herself off, chest heaving.

Zoey still hadn’t moved from the door. Her arm was half-extended like she could still catch Rumi if she reached just a little farther. But her hand shook, her face pale, her eyes wide and glassy. She looked frozen in place, as if she’d been carved into the wood of the frame.

“Say something!” Mira snapped suddenly, whirling on her. “Don’t just stand there!”

Zoey spun and flinched so violently her back hit the door. Her hand dropped limply to her side, fingers trembling.

The sight hit Mira like a fist to the gut. She’d been so wrapped up in her own panic she hadn’t seen it—hadn’t noticed how stiff Zoey’s posture was, the blankness in her face, the way her breaths were coming shallow and too fast. God, of course. She should have known. Zoey had grown up surrounded by screaming matches, parents tearing into each other while she stood in the middle begging them to stop until they divorced and split her between two countries. Mira’s own voice had just become another echo of that, another sharp sound dragging her back into the past.

“Shit. Zo.” Mira’s tone broke, all the rage draining away. She crossed the room quickly, cupping Zoey’s face with both hands. “Hey. Hey, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to yell at you. Breathe with me, okay? You’re okay. You’re safe.”

Zoey blinked, finally focusing on her. Her lip quivered. “She just—she just left,” she whispered.

“I know,” Mira said softly, pulling her into her chest. “I know. We’ll figure it out. But right now, you’re safe. I’ve got you.”

Zoey clutched at her shirt, nodding into her shoulder, the tension still shaking through her small frame.

Mira closed her eyes, holding her tighter, fighting back her own tears. Because Zoey was right. Rumi had walked out that door. And Mira had no idea how to get her back.

 

 

Rumi arrived back at Jake’s not long after, her duffel strap cutting into her shoulder. She was still trembling faintly, though she tried to hide it.

Jake opened the door with a wide grin, pulling her in instantly. “There’s my girl.” He kissed her cheek, too eager, too sweet. “Missed you. Breakfasts ready”

The words cracked something loose inside her, and before she could stop herself the tears were slipping hot down her face.

Jake stilled, pulling her back just enough to see her expression. “Hey—hey, what’s wrong?” His voice was low, coaxing. “Talk to me, baby.”

Rumi shook her head, choking on the words. “We… we just argued. Mira and Zoey. It got bad.”

Jake’s mouth tightened, but his hands smoothed up and down her arms, gentle, lulling. “Of course it did. I told you they're not good for you baby. They don’t want what’s best for you—not really. They just want to control you.”

Rumi flinched as he tilted her chin up, but he continued anyway, kissing the tears off her cheeks. “You don’t need them. You’ve got me. Okay?”

She swallowed hard, the hollowness inside her swallowing everything else. “…Okay.”

“Good girl.” Jake smiled, pulling her fully into the apartment. “Now, let’s forget about them. You’re here with me. That’s all that matters.”

And just like that, the trap closed tighter around her.

Notes:

The girls are going through it.
They're getting through to Rumi though, slowly

You're comments mean the world to me - please keep them coming - <3

Chapter 8

Notes:

Sorry it's been a little bit - High school is...hard

Sorry if this chapter feels a bit rushed - I originally had it planned over a couple of chapters- but I figure we have all had enough of Jake and are ready to get things moving away from that shit bag.
Very trigger heavy chapter:
TWs: Homophobic slurs, Rape, Domestic Violence.

The next week blurred together. Rumi stayed at Jake’s, the walls of his apartment closing in like a cage. Practices came and went without her; no one outside her inner circle questioned it yet, not with no events scheduled. 

The days all started to look the same—Jake, the apartment, the same four walls. He always had something in his hand, a beer cracked open before noon, a glass of whiskey by dinner. At first, Rumi hadn’t liked the way he’d push one toward her too, how casual he made it seem. She’d sip reluctantly, wrinkling her nose at the taste. But lately, she caught herself reaching for the bottles on her own, pouring a glass without being asked. The burn dulled the edges of everything, made it easier not to think. She was beginning to understand the appeal. 

 Zoey’s messages were consistent. Mira hadn't messaged her since their argument, but Rumi understood that Mira was just as much involved in the messages as Zoey was. 

 

 “Morning, Ru. Hope you slept okay. Don’t forget to eat breakfast.” 

“We miss you. I’m sorry we fought, I promise Mira and I aren’t mad. Come home when you’re ready, we can talk or not talk, whatever you want. Just come home.”  

'Derpy misses his Mumma, he's barely left your room.' 

 

 Rumi replied at first. Short, vague answers that looked cheerful but felt like lies as she typed them. 

 'I’m good, promise!' 

'You don’t have to worry about me, Jake’s keeping me fed.' 

'Miss you guys too, I just need a little space right now'. 

'Awww, give him a scratch behind the ears for me.' 

 

Her words looked light on the screen, but each one scraped against her chest. 

 It didn’t take much. A wrong tone, a look he didn’t like, her phone lighting up at the wrong time. Every little thing felt like a test she kept failing. His temper would flare fast and sharp—shoving her against a wall, squeezing her wrist until her fingers went numb, striking out when his jealousy snapped too tight. And when she tried to push him away in bed, whispering no, his weight pinned her still. The sound of her own voice went small and useless in her ears. She learned quickly that protests only made him rougher, that silence made it end faster. 

 And yet, the very next morning he’d appear at her side all over again, his arms full of roses or some sleek little box tied with ribbon. A silver bracelet slid onto her wrist, his fingers grazing the bruises he’d left the night before as though he couldn’t see them. 

 Part of her wanted to scream at the contradiction. To shove the flowers back at him, to throw the bracelet across the room. But when his eyes softened, when his smile curled tender and adoring, the anger sank like a stone into the pit of her stomach. Instead of rage, guilt took its place. Guilt for doubting him, guilt for making him angry, guilt for not being enough to keep him calm in the first place. Guilt that maybe, she was the one making him like this. The evil that ran in her blood corrupting his too. Who else was going to love her if she didn't have him?

 And so, she stayed. Caught between flinching at his touch and craving the sweetness that followed it. Every kiss, every gift, every “good girl” blurred the line until she couldn’t tell where the violence ended and the love began. 

 

One evening, Jake leaned over from where he sat beside her, his eyes flicking to the phone in her hand. Zoey’s contact name glowed on the screen. His smile thinned. 

“You don’t need to keep running to them every five seconds,” he said casually, though his voice was sharp beneath it. “Makes it look like you’d rather be with them than me.” 

 “I don’t—” 

 "Baby.” He softened his tone. “If you want this to work, you have to stop letting them interfere. You’re mine. Not theirs. They don’t even want you, Ru. They’ve got each other. You’re just… extra. You don't fit. You’re lucky you have me, I’m just saying, not a lot of people would put up with your shit.” 

 He said the words like they were a joke but they sank like stones in her chest. She nodded, tucking her phone away. 

 After that, she stopped replying. 

But at night, when Jake’s snores rattled against the silence and the apartment finally went still, she’d unlock her phone and read the messages again. Over and over, until the words blurred. 

'We love you.' 

'You’re safe with us.' 

'Come home when you’re ready.' 

She clutched the phone to her chest, tears stinging her eyes, but in the morning she shoved it back under her pillow and pretended it wasn’t there. 

---

 

Zoey sat on the couch, her phone clutched tight, eyes flicking over the unanswered messages. Her thumb hovered like she might type again, then fell uselessly against the screen. Behind her, Mira loomed, arms crossed, jaw tight. 

 “That’s it,” Mira said, her voice low but dangerous. “I’m done waiting. I’m going over there.” 

Zoey’s head snapped up. “We don’t even know where he lives.” 

“Then we’ll find out.” Mira’s arms uncrossed as she started pacing, her voice rising with every step. “Bobby must have a file on him, he can tell us. We’ll track her phone if we have to.” 

Zoey shot up from the couch suddenly. “Mira, no. If we show up uninvited, it’ll just make things worse. She already doesn’t trust us right now.” 

Mira spun, eyes blazing. “She should trust us!” The words cracked out of her like lightning. “She should trust us more than she trusts him!” 

Zoey’s own voice cracked, anger spilling up to match hers. “Why? Why should she trust us?” Her eyes shone, wet but fierce. “We raised our weapons at her when she needed us most. We turned her away. We're just as bad as him." 

The words hit like a punch. Mira froze, her mouth parting, but nothing came out. The truth of it echoed too loudly. 

Zoey’s shoulders slumped, her anger crumbling into something rawer, shakier. “God, Mira,” she whispered, her chest heaving. “Everyone Rumi’s ever loved has betrayed her. Celine was supposed to love her, and instead she made her hate herself. We threatened to cut her down like she was just another demon. And now she’s with Jake, who’s hurting her, and—” Her words broke into a sharp gasp. She pressed her fists against her eyes, panic clawing up her throat too fast to contain. 

“Zo.” Mira rushed forward, catching her wrists gently, pulling them down, her voice softer now. “Hey. Breathe. It’s okay.” 

Zoey shook her head, trembling. “What if we lose he?” 

 

“We won't.” Mira’s tone was steady, even as her chest ached with her own doubt. She wrapped her arms around Zoey, pulling her close. “I know we screwed up before, but we have to do something. And if we can't drag her away by force then I think we need to get someone else involved.” 

Zoey blinked up at her through glassy eyes. 

Mira swallowed her pride before she said it, the words tasting bitter in her mouth. She hated the thought of relying on Celine, of admitting they weren’t enough. But Rumi’s face—the bruises she tried to hide—burned in her mind. “I know Celine fucked up, but she's the closest thing Rumi's ever had to a mum. We won’t tell her everything—we won’t betray Rumi like that—but just enough to get her to act. If anyone can break through, it’s her.” 

Zoey sagged against her, exhausted. “…Okay.” 

Mira held her tighter “We’re getting her back, Zo. One way or another.” 

---

 

Jake had stormed out an hour earlier, slamming the door so hard the frame rattled. He’d been shouting at her over something small—something she couldn’t even remember now, maybe a headline online of Rumi talking to another guy, maybe just the way she looked at him. His voice had filled every corner of the apartment until she thought her head would split. Then he’d grabbed his jacket and left, muttering about needing a drink. 

Now the silence pressed in heavy, broken only by the hum of the fridge and the ringing in her ears. Rumi sat curled on the couch, her knees drawn tight to her chest. Her hands still trembled from the aftershocks, faint bruises blooming under the skin where his grip had been too hard. Her throat ached from swallowing back words she hadn’t dared to speak. Even breathing felt fragile, like it might set something off again if he came back. 

Her phone buzzed where it lay on the cushion beside her. For a long moment she didn’t move. Her body felt carved from stone, her mind drifting somewhere far away from the four walls of Jake’s apartment. At last, her hand twitched toward it, fingers slow, unsteady. 

Celine. 

Her thumb slid across the screen on instinct. “…Hello.” 

The word barely carried. It was flat, hollow, like she wasn’t even there. 

“Rumi? How are you?” Celine’s voice was clipped, brisk as always, but there was a tremor underneath. 

Rumi blinked, pulling herself a little straighter. “I’m fine. Been… doing fine.” The words felt stiff, like they didn’t belong to her. 

“You don’t sound well,” Celine said quietly, her tone tightening. “You don’t sound well at all.” Then, more cautiously: “Rumi, you sound like you've been drinking.” 

Rumi’s gaze flicked to the half empty glass on the table. Her throat tightened. “No. Just been sick, that’s all.” The lie was weak and she knew it, but she forced it through. 

There was a silence, too long, then Celine’s voice again—firmer now. “Rumi, I’m worried about you.” 

Rumi’s chest knotted. “Is this because I haven’t set a time for you and Jake to meet yet? I’ve just had… a lot going on.” Her words stumbled, fragile. 

“It’s not about that,” Celine cut in. She hesitated, just a beat, then exhaled shakily. “…Mira and Zoey called me… They're worried about you too.” 

The bottom dropped out of Rumi’s stomach. “They—what?” Her voice cracked, sharper now, breaking through the fog. “They told you?” 

Her pulse spiked—hurt, betrayal, panic twisting together. Of course they’d go behind her back. Of course they didn’t trust her. 

On the line, Celine pressed on, voice shaking now, feeling that Rumi had confirmed her suspicions. “They didn’t tell me everything. Not exactly. But I can put the pieces together. And Rumi—please, listen to me—you don’t deserve this. Whatever’s happening over there, whatever you think you have to endure, you don’t need to.” 

Rumi’s throat closed up. She pressed her fist to her mouth, breathing ragged, silent. 

Celine’s words tumbled faster, control slipping. “Honey—please. I know I wasn’t what you needed growing up. I know I failed you. I know I made you hide pieces of yourself that you never should have had to hide. But if anything happened to you—” Her voice broke fully now, raw and unguarded. “If I lost you, I don’t know how I’d live with myself. I can’t lose you, Rumi. I can’t.” 

Her breaths hitched audibly through the phone. “You don’t have to trust me. God knows I don’t deserve it. But trust your girls. Mira and Zoey love you. They would burn the whole world down for you. Go home to them. Please. Whatever this is, we’ll fix it. Just… don’t stay there. Don’t let him take you from us.” 

The line went quiet except for Rumi’s shallow breaths. Her vision blurred. Honey. She hadn’t heard that word from Celine in years—not since she was a child, not since before everything soured. It cracked something open in her chest. 

Her lips trembled; the whisper almost lost in static. “…Okay.” 

 Rumi sat frozen, phone still pressed to her ear long after the call ended. Her chest rose and fell too fast, the hollow thud of her pulse rattling in her throat. 

Her eyes burned. She shoved the phone down beside her, forcing herself upright. Her body moved stiffly, like it didn’t belong to her, but she went to her closet anyway, dragging an old duffel out from under the bed. 

Her hands shook as she started stuffing clothes into it. Every zip, every fold was heavy with panic. She told herself not to think. If she thought too much, she’d stop. If she stopped, she’d never get out. 

Her gaze caught on the dresser—on the sleek little boxes lined up from the last week: bracelets, necklaces, trinkets Jake had pressed into her hands after every bruise. She shoved them away, refusing to look at them any longer. 

She heard the lock rattle. Her blood went cold. 

The door swung open hard enough to bang the wall, and Jake stumbled in, the stink of alcohol hitting the room before he did. "Hey baby, I'm home. I brought us ice-cream, you're favourite-"

He cut off when his eyes found her—her bag, her hands frozen on the zipper. 

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” 

Rumi’s mouth opened and closed but nothing came out. 

Jake crossed the room in a few strides, ripping the duffel from her hands and flinging it across the floor. Clothes spilled everywhere. His face twisted. “You were gonna leave me?” 

She forced sound past her shaking chest. “…I just—I was going home.” 

“Home?” He barked a laugh, ugly and sharp. “That’s not your home. This is your home. They don’t want you. They never did.” 

He bent, snatching up her phone from where it lay on the couch. The screen lit in his hand, scrolling to find Zoey's messages instantly. Jake’s eyes narrowed. He scrolled once, twice, and his lip curled. "What have you been telling them? Making up lies about me?" 

Rumi's voice was weak. "No, I haven't told them anything." 

"Bullshit!" His voice turned venomous. “They're just a couple of dykes playing house. That’s who you’d rather be with? That’s who you’d leave me for? You think they love you? You’re just another toy for them to pass around.”  

The words sliced through her, white-hot. Something in Rumi snapped.  

“Don’t call them that.” She said low and dangerously. 

Jake’s eyes went flat. “What did you just say to me?” 

Before she could answer, he hurled the phone against the wall, narrowly missing her. 

Then he was on her. His hand lashed out, seizing her arm, his grip like iron. He shoved her once, hard enough to rattle her against the dresser. When she staggered upright, he was already there, his face inches from hers, spit flying as he snarled. 

He shoved her again, harder this time, until she was pressed up against the wall, her head smacking painfully into the brick behind causing her to see stars. His palm slammed against her chest, pinning her in place. Then it slid up, wrapping around her throat—not squeezing yet but warning.

“Say it,” he hissed. “Say you don’t love them. Say they mean nothing to you.” 

Her lips trembled. She shook her head, the smallest whisper escaping:

“…No.” 

Jake’s grip tightened instantly. Her airway cut off, pressure crushing down. Her vision blurred, sparks exploding at the edges. She clawed weakly at his arm, nails scraping skin but never enough to break free. 

Her training screamed at her—block the wrist, drop her weight, break the hold. She’d practiced it a thousand times in drills. But now, faced with him, her arms stayed limp. She couldn’t bring herself to fight back. Not against him. Not against a human. And not when that voice inside her whispered that maybe she deserved it. 

Darkness closed in and Rumi embraced it. Until suddenly he let go. 

She crumpled to the floor, hacking, gasping, clutching her throat. Every swallow was fire. Her ears rang, muffled like she was underwater. Her eyes streamed, tears blurring her vision.

Above her, his voice landed like a blade. “We’re done. You hear me? We’re fucking done. Run back to your little dykes. See how long they keep a mistake like you around.” 

The door slammed hard enough to shake the frame. Then silence. 

Rumi lay there shaking, air scraping painfully into her lungs. Each breath sounded too loud in the stillness, ragged and raw. Her body curled in on itself, knees pulled to her chest, fingers clawing at her own hoodie as though she could hold herself together.  

Around her, the room looked wrecked—clothes spilled from the duffel, flowers Jake had given her days ago wilted in their vase, petals littering the floor. 

Her phone lay inches away. The glass was cracked, but the screen still glowed faintly when she picked it up. With trembling fingers, she clicked Zoey’s contact. 

It rang once. Then— 

“Rumi?” Zoey’s voice, frantic, tinny in her ear. 

Rumi choked, barely able to form words. "…Please. Come get me.” 

The line crackled, Mira’s voice rising faintly in the background. But Rumi couldn’t hear anything else. She pressed the phone to her chest, her sobs breaking free, her face pressed into the cool floor below, before blackness took over. 

Notes:

She's getting out! Things will be perfect now right? ... right?

Very little Jake screen time left and what is left is more...fun. Next chapter, Mira might just finally get to beat his ass to a pulp.

This is as heavy as it's going to get. Uphill from here. But Rumi's still gotta hurt, sorry Rumi.
Let me know what you thought!
<3

Chapter 9

Summary:

The girls find Rumi and Mira pays Jake a little visit

Notes:

I had a lot of fun writing this, I hope you have just as much fun reading it

Zoey’s phone buzzed violently in her hand, the screen lighting up with Rumi’s name. Her stomach dropped. 

She’d been on edge all evening, waiting for this. If Rumi was calling, it could only mean one of three things: Celine had gotten through and convinced her to leave, Rumi was furious with them for going behind her back, or something bad—something very bad—had happened. 

Her thumb trembled as she swiped to answer. “Rumi?” 

There was silence for a moment then: “Please. Come get me.” The words were so faint Zoey barely caught them, choked through static and sobs. 

Zoey bolted upright. “Ru? Oh my god—what’s wrong? What happened?” 

All she got in reply were broken sobs. She pressed the phone tighter to her ear. “Ru, what's the address?” 

The crying faded, quieting into ragged breaths—and then nothing. 

“Rumi?” Zoey’s voice pitched high, panic spiking sharp. “Rumi!” 

Mira was already moving, taking the phone from Zoey's shaking hand. “Rumi, say something! Where are you?” Silence. 

Mira’s chest heaved, her jaw locking. She didn’t hesitate—she hit another contact, He picked up on the second ring “Bobby. I need Jake’s address. Now.” She barked down the line, cutting off his greeting 

On the other end, Bobby sounded startled. “Mira? What—why?” 

“It’s Rumi,” Mira snapped. “She’s hurt. She called us and now she’s gone quiet. We don’t have time for questions—give me the address.” 

“Mira, you know I can’t just hand out—” 

“This is serious!” Her voice cracked with the weight of it. “Please, Bobby. She’s not safe.” 

The silence on the other end lasted just long enough to squeeze Zoey’s heart, before Bobby’s tone dropped into something more panicked. “Alright. Hang on.” Keystrokes. A muttered curse. Then an address. 

“Got it,” Mira said, already grabbing her jacket. She didn’t wait for another word before hanging up. 

 

 

The ride over blurred past in a haze of red lights and pounding hearts, Zoey clinging to the phone like it might still tether them to Rumi. 

When they reached Jake’s apartment, Mira didn’t hesitate. One sharp kick to the lock and the door banged open, splintering against the wall. 

They called for their weapons as soon as they passed the doors threshold, scanning the room for a threat. The living room was a mess, glass shattered, clothes and other belongings strewn in every direction. 

And there, on the floor, they found her.  

She lay crumpled in a heap, her face pressed into the floorboards, her body folded in on itself. Her hoodie was twisted, one sleeve raised to her elbow, and bottom hem pushed up exposing part of her waste. Every part of body they could see had some form of bruise on it, some yellow a few days old, others darker, fresh. There was blood matted at the back of her head, a stark contrast against her violet hair. But her neck was by far the most horrific, dark purple and with a clear outlined print of a hand.  

 For one breathless second, Zoey thought she wasn’t breathing—then her chest rose shallowly, painfully slow. 

“Rumi!” Zoey dropped to her knees, hands hovering helplessly before she dared touch her. “Oh my god, Ru—wake up, please—” 

Mira knelt beside her, placing a hand on her shoulder she shook her as lightly as she possibly could. “Sweetheart? Can you hear me? It’s Mira and Zoey. Baby you gotta wake up, open your eyes.” 

Rumi stirred faintly, a weak groan escaping her. Her eyelids fluttered as she blinked blearily up at them with bloodshot eyes, voice rasping like it had been dragged through broken glass. “…You came.” 

Zoey’s breath hitched, tears spilling fast. She brushed the hair from Rumi’s forehead. “Of course we came, baby. Of course.” 

Mira’s voice was urgent, firm. “We’re getting you to the hospital. Right now.” 

Rumi’s fingers twitched, catching Zoey’s sleeve weakly. Her voice cracked, frantic. “No… no hospital. Please. I just want to go home. With you. Not there.” 

“Rumi, look at you—your head’s bleeding, your ribs might be—” Mira’s voice shook, her fear bleeding through. “You need a doctor.” 

“No-no please, I’m okay,” Rumi whispered, though her lips trembled around the lie. She tried to push herself up, only to sag against Zoey again. Panic flickered in her eyes, her breaths quickening. “Please, don’t make me go. I can’t—Mira, I can’t.” 

Zoey cupped her face gently. “It’s okay, Ru. Breathe. You’re safe now.” 

Mira’s chest ached as she watched the fear unravel Rumi’s face, her breathing bordering on hyperventilating. Every instinct screamed at her to fight harder, to drag her to the care she needed. But Rumi was breaking apart in front of her and forcing her would only shatter her further. 

“Okay,” Mira said at last, her voice low and unsteady. “Okay, no hospital. But you have to stay awake. Do you hear me? You don’t close your eyes until we’re home.” 

Rumi gave a jerky nod, barely holding on.  

Mira gathered her scattered belongings back into the duffel bag, while Zoey steadied Rumi against her shoulder. Together, they lifted her carefully and carried her out into the night. 

 

Mira drove like she was possessed. The city blurred past in streaks of light and shadow, every yellow light taken a little too late, every turn sharper than it should have been. Zoey didn’t say a word. Normally she’d scold her, tell her to slow down, but not tonight. Tonight, she understood. 

In the backseat, Zoey cradled Rumi against her, keeping her upright as the car jolted and swerved. Rumi’s head lolled against her shoulder, eyelids fluttering. Every few minutes her eyes would slip shut.  

“No, Ru.” Zoey’s voice was soft but urgent, her hand brushing against Rumi’s cheek. “Stay awake for me, baby. Just a little longer.” 

“…Tired,” Rumi mumbled, her words slurring. 

“I know, I know baby.” Zoey kissed the top of her hair. “But you can’t sleep yet, not until we can check you out for a concussion. Please. We’re almost home.” 

 

When they finally made it back to the penthouse, Mira helped Zoey guide Rumi inside. The two of them moved like they’d done a hundred times after battles with demons—each knowing their role, each too practiced at patching each other up.  

In the bathroom, they sat Rumi gently on the edge of the tub. Mira knelt in front of her, steadying her chin as Zoey carefully cleaned the blood from her scalp. The wound was messy but shallow. They ran Rumi through some basic concussion tests and there were no signs of one, at least as far as they could tell. Relief, small but something. 

Then Mira’s gaze fell to Rumi’s hoodie. The way she hunched into it, sleeves fisted tight, shoulders trembling. “Ru,” Mira said softly, “You’re doing so good honey, but we need to check the rest of you. Can you take this off?” 

“I’m fine.” Rumi’s voice cracked as she shook her head. “I don’t need—” 

“You do.” Mira cut in, but her tone was gentle, coaxing. “Whatever we see we’re not going to judge you, we just want to make sure you’re okay.” 

It took minutes of quiet words, Zoey rubbing her back, Mira’s steady patience. Finally, Rumi nodded, tears welling as they eased the hoodie off. She flinched when her shirt followed, leaving her in just her bra, her arms crossing over her chest instinctively. 

The sight made Zoey gasp. “Oh, baby girl…” 

Her ribs were a map of deep, spreading bruises, blotched with older sickly yellows and fresh vibrant purples. Finger-shaped marks climbed her arms, clustered at her wrists and shoulders, then fanning out across her collar bone, each one screaming the story of cruelty she had experienced in just the last week. 

“I’m sorry,” Rumi choked out suddenly, tears spilling fast. “I’m sorry—I’m so sorry—” 

“No,” Zoey whispered fiercely, placing her forehead against Rumi's. “Please don’t apologise. None of this is your fault.” 

But next to her, Mira didn’t move. She stood rigid, fists clenched at her sides, eyes locked on the bruises like she could burn them off Rumi’s skin with her fury alone. Zoey glanced up, and what she saw in Mira’s face made her chest seize. Rage. Pure, unfiltered rage, trembling on the edge of snapping. 

“Mira,” Zoey said quietly, locking eyes with her while still holding Rumi. She shook her head once. Not now. 

Mira ground her teeth so hard Zoey heard it. Her shoulders shook with the effort of restraint. But after a long moment, she exhaled, crouching back down. Her hand cupped Rumi’s cheek, her voice tender now. “You’re safe. We’ve got you. Just let us take care of you.” 

They finished patching her up as best they could, cleaned her skin, gave her water. Finally, they led her to bed, laying her down with Zoey curling against one side and Mira against the other. Zoey stroked her hair until her breathing evened, exhaustion dragging her under. 

But Zoey didn’t dare sleep, her gaze locked on Rumi even in the darkness, watching her chest rise and fall with every breath, worried that if she dared to even blink, it might stop. She felt the shift when Mira slid from the bed, quiet but deliberate. 

“Where are you going?” Zoey whispered, eyes snapping open.  

Mira froze, then whispered back, “I'm going to find him.” 

Zoey eased herself off the mattress, careful not to wake Rumi, and followed her into the living room.  

The apartment was quiet except for the faint sound of Rumi’s breathing down the hall. Mira’s hands were already busy—jacket shrugged on, boots laced up. 

Zoey caught her arm, her whisper sharp. "Do you really think now is the best time for this?" 

Mira’s jaw locked. “He did this to her. I can’t just sit here.” 

“And then what?” Zoey’s voice shook, fierce and terrified all at once. “What are you going to do, Mira? Kill him?” 

The taller woman shrugged. "Maybe.” 

Zoey’s chest seized. “You’ll go to jail. And then what? What happens to Rumi when you’re gone?” 

Mira’s hands trembled, fists clenching until her knuckles went white. “You’ll be here to take care of her, I don’t care what happens to me. I care that he’s breathing freely while she—” Her voice broke, fury cracking to something rawer. “While she looks like that.” 

Zoey reached out again, softer this time, gripping Mira’s sleeve. “Mira please. We will get him, we will find him together and we’ll make him pay for what he did. But right now, Rumi needs you more than Jake does. Stay with her. Stay with me. I can't handle this by myself.” 

Mira’s throat worked, her eyes flicking toward the bedroom door. For a heartbeat, Zoey thought she’d listened. But then Mira shook her off gently, a quiet apology in her touch. 

“I can’t,” she whispered. “Not while he’s still out there.” Her voice was steady, but her eyes burned like fire.

“Mira—”  

“Zoey. I have to do this,” Mira said, and this time the words were final. She pressed a kiss to Zoey’s forehead. “Look after her.” 

Zoey stayed there in the living room for a moment, contemplating following Mira.  

But ultimately, she trusted her to handle this. She went back to Rumi, curled up at her side, and prayed Mira wouldn’t go too far. 

 

---

 

Jake wasn’t home. 

Mira didn’t mind. 

 

She paced through his apartment like a wolf in a cage, her Gok-Do humming faintly in her grip, the blade glowing blue where it cut the air. She’d materialised it as soon as she stepped in, something to keep her hands busy. 

Boredom struck fast. Her eyes drifted to the flat-screen TV and the PlayStation beneath it, lights still blinking faintly. Her lips curved. With one smooth slash, the glowing blade cut straight through both. Sparks spat, glass cracked, and the room smelled of burning plastic. 

“That’ll do,” she muttered, dragging a chair into the middle of the carnage. She sat, legs crossed, weapon laid casually across her lap and waited in the dark. 

The key rattled in the lock. The door swung open. Jake stumbled in, too drunk to notice the door hanging off its hinges. His arms were full—flowers in one hand, a glossy box in the other. He stopped short at the sight of his ruined TV, the PlayStation cleaved in two. 

“The fuck?—” he hissed, dropping the gifts with a clatter. His face twisted, ugly. “That fucking bitch.” 

 

“Hi, Jake.” Mira’s voice sang out, sweet as sugar. 

 Jake jolted, spinning toward the voice. His eyes widened when the lamp flicked on, revealing her lounging in his chair, Gok-Do resting across her thighs. 

“What the fuck are you doing here?” he snarled. “Get out of my apartment.” 

Mira tilted her head, eyes glittering. “Alexa, play How It’s Done by Huntrix.” 

The speaker obeyed, bass thundering through the room. The opening lines filled the air like a battle cry. Mira’s lips curled into a smile, mouthing along to the chorus as she rose to her feet, blade glowing brighter. 

Jake tried to laugh, but it cracked halfway. “You’re fucking crazy." He smirked looking her up down. "You think I’m scared of you? You’re just some girl with a toy sword.” 

The glow of the weapon reflected in his wide eyes. “Not a toy,” Mira said sweetly. “But you’ll learn that soon enough.” 

He lunged first, sloppy with drink and arrogance. Mira sidestepped effortlessly, the blade flashing close enough to sheer a lock of his hair. She danced around him, every swing calculated, every move making him look smaller, weaker. 

He swung again, wild but ungraceful. She caught his arm, twisted, and he yelped as she sent him sprawling into the couch. 

“Pathetic,” Mira spat, stalking closer. “Do you know how easy it would’ve been for Rumi to squash you? She could’ve ended you with one hand tied behind her back. But she didn’t. Because she’s better than you’ll ever be. But me?” She leaned down slightly, smiling sharp. “I’m not so kind.” 

Jake scrambled, red-faced and panting. “Fuck you—” 

Mira snorted, sidestepping his next lunge with ease. “It that the best you can do? You think beating up girls makes you a man? You’re nothing but a pathetic baby throwing tantrums.” 

He roared, grabbing for her wrist. For a moment, she let him. His fingers clamped around her arm, triumphant—until she started laughing. Low, sharp, unshaken. Slowly, deliberately, she pried his hand off her, finger by finger, her grin widening as his face drained pale. 

“Aw, how cute,” she mocked. “Thought you had me, didn’t you?” She shoved him backward. “Try harder.” 

Her boot connected with his stomach, sending him flat to the floor. Before he could recover, she pinned him, straddling his chest, Gok-Do resting by her side. 

Her fists rained down, one after another. His nose broke with a crunch, blood spraying across her knuckles. He howled, begged, but she didn’t stop—not until his face was swollen and his arms trembled uselessly at his sides. 

 

Finally, she picked up her weapon and pressed the blade to his throat. One slice and it would be done. His wide, terrified eyes reflected her fury back at her.  

“Apologise.” she hissed, baring her teeth in a grin that wasn’t a smile. 

"-What?!" He stuttered out. 

"Apoligise! Tell me you're sorry for what you did to her." She yelled. 

Jake whimpered, blood bubbling at his lip. "I’m sorry." He shut his eyes and she felt his breathing quicken under her. 

"Louder! I want to hear you choke on it. Beg like coward you are." She put more pressure on the blade. 

He was openly sobbing now. "I-I'm sorry! I'm so sorry. Please, please don't kill me! I-I'm begging you, please." 

She lowered her face closer to his, a cruel smile tugging her lips. Her voice was low, venomous, her breath hot against his ear. “Here’s what you are gonna do, Jake. You’re going to disappear. Move far away. If I ever see your face near Rumi again—if I even hear your name or smell your filth—I’ll finish what I started tonight-"

Slowly, deliberately, she traced a finger down his bloodied jaw, then dragged it lower, across his throat, trailing down his chest as if marking out the places she could cut. Jake shuddered beneath her, frozen in terror.  "-And I promise…” she dragged the blade lightly across his skin, just enough for a small bead of blood to trickle down his neck “…I’ll make it slow. Torturous. Painful. You'll be begging for me to end it.” 

 Jake sobbed, nodding frantically beneath her. 

 Then, Mira pushed off him, stalking toward the door. His broken whimpers filled the room. Her hand lingered on the knob. 

 “Just one more.” she said brightly. She turned, swung her boot back, and drove it hard between his legs. Jake’s scream tore through the air as he curled in on himself. 

 Mira smirked, then bent to scoop the crushed bouquet of flowers from the floor. She twirled them once in her hand and looked back at him. “Oh, and thank you for the flowers. You really shouldn’t have.” 

 Weapon dissolving into light, she left him a bloodied, blubbering mess on the floor of his ruined apartment. 

Notes:

I’m sorry Zoey didn’t get to help, but someone’s gotta look after our girl! 😭

Leave me ya thoughts.
Be safe out there
Love yas <3