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Zoey couldn't stop pacing.
She walked back and forth on their Airbnb living room, hand slightly dampened, heart about to beat out of her chest, and nervousness like she had never felt before, making every cell in her body vibrate. Not even the two and a half cans of Monster she had yesterday in a span of an hour got her this agitated.
Because of their upcoming documentary — a behind-the-scenes look at their last tour — they were in the final days of their two-week trip to the U.S. for the international premiere. Being in Cali with Mira and Rumi allowed her to show them where she grew up, take them to touristy places in LA, and they even went to Disneyland for two days.
That's not what got her pacing, though. It was Rumi who did.
Zoey had gotten ready for their first date a while ago — earlier than necessary, unlike any other time — which gave her a good amount of time to you know… freak out about it. She kept checking her phone, half expecting time to move faster, half wishing time wouldn't move at all.
When she blurted out that Rumi should take her on a date, they had been 4 too many drinks in — damn Mira and her terrible bartender skills that she swears is good — on a late night as they played a dumb drinking game she didn't even remember anymore in their rented apartment. She expected it to land as a joke for them, even if she had been saying the truth. What she did not expect was for the singer to actually take her up on it.
She had only ever told her stuffed turtle plushie about the big fat crush she had on Rumi since the moment they met, God knows how many years ago. She had learned to live with it, mostly because the half-demon had always been so reserved that Zoey didn't even know if she liked women at all.
Well, that much had been pretty clear when the half-demon's patterns flared soft pink at her sudden burst. Or when she had said, 'I'd actually love to take you out on a date’, tilting Zoey's world off its axis as simply as that.
So here she was, nervously pacing back and forth like a cat trapped indoors, too restless to sit still, too anxious to do anything else. Any minute now, Rumi would come out of her room, probably looking effortlessly gorgeous, as she always does, and Zoey needed to have her shit together to at least pretend she wasn't freaking out.
She took deep breaths, which sounded more like she was fighting against her lungs than a proper breath, but it was all she could manage at the moment. A soft click of a door down the hall stole all the air out of her lungs, freezing her mid-motion, as if she stood still enough, no one would notice her just standing there.
Mira walked into the living room, pausing the second her eyes fell on Zoey. She quirked a brow, crossing her arms and popping her hips. Zoey stood still with an expression that she was sure made her look constipated.
"You look like you've got it together," Mira mused, a smug smile on her lips.
Zoey groaned, falling onto the couch. "I'll ruin it. I'll fuck it up because I am nervous, and she'll regret it!"
Mira let out a soft laugh as she approached Zoey, taking the seat next to her. "Zo, you could spend three hours sitting on the couch telling her random turtle facts and she'd still look at you like you hung the goddamn moon."
Heat crept up her neck, spreading across her face like a wave washing over the shore. "You don't know that."
"Uh, yes, I do," Mira countered. "She literally did that while we waited in line for the Guardians of the Galaxy ride at Disneyland. And that took us two fraking hours!"
"Maybe she is just interested in Green Sea Turtles," Zoey crossed her arms as if to say 'I dare you to deny that'. All it took was a look for the maknae to sag back against the couch. "Yeah, ok, fine."
"Where are you guys going?" Mira asked, copying Zoey's position, head thrown back and almost falling off the couch.
"There's a carnival I used to go to when I lived here," she said, feeling herself relax a bit. "Thought it would be a nice place to go."
"Okay," she nodded. "I like that."
"Are you sure you don't want to come?"
They had talked about it, of course. When Rumi agreed to go on this date, both immediately included Mira, because of course they would. This trip was, after all, for the three of them to enjoy. But the taller girl had insisted that they go on their own this time, which they reluctantly accepted.
If this date even turns into something more, they'll have to get used to it anyway. Plus, it wasn't like they didn't know Mira had been hooking up with the lead singer of another K-pop band. They all pretended not to know, for her sake. She'll tell them when she is ready.
"Yes," Mira said in that tone she uses when she wants to reassure her — soft, sure, and utterly genuine. "You go and get your girl, ok?"
"I'll try," Zoey smiled, bumping her shoulder against Mira's. "Thanks, by the way."
"What for?"
"For encouraging me, for one," Zoey said, counting on her fingers. "And for giving us the night. I'll make it up to you with endless video games, any game you want."
"Deal," Mira smiled.
It didn't take much longer for a door to open down the hall, making Zoey bolt upright and fix her outfit as if she were wearing a ball gown and not high-waist jeans, a band T.
"Breathe, Zo," Mira whispered with a chuckle.
Her heart nearly stopped when she got a glimpse of Rumi. Her hair was no longer in her signature braid, cascading down her shoulders in perfect curls. Her outfit was simple in a way that made it look effortless — dark, loose jeans and a burgundy crop top that hugged her frame perfectly. A golden chain sat around her neck, falling down her chest in three loops, one longer than the last.
"I— wow." Was all Zoey could manage.
"Hi," Rumi said, cheeks dusted with pink, as she stepped further into the living room and towards them. "I'm ready."
"You look… beautiful," Zoey said after a deep breath, looking at Rumi up and down as if burning the image to memory.
"Thank you," She smiled shyly. "You don't look too bad yourself. I like your hair that way."
Zoey would never wear her space buns again. She'd officially change her signature hairstyle for this — hair half-pulled up into a soft bun — if it meant Rumi would look at her life… that.
"Okay," Mira said, standing up from the couch and crossing her arms as her eyes shifted back and forth between them. "Will you two be just looking at each other like that the whole night?"
"Possibly," Zoey replied without tearing her eyes away. Like she'd look at anything else with Rumi right there. Rumi's cheeks turned that soft shade of pink again. Zoey loved it.
"You hopeless gays!" Mira huffed and disappeared down the hall.
"We should go," Rumi chuckled, though her eyes didn't leave Zoey either.
"The car is waiting outside."
Zoey had chosen to drive instead of being driven by someone from their team. It felt more intimate that way, more private. Rumi had put on music, and they belted the lyrics while competing to see who could sing more off-pitch. At one point, Rumi screeched a high note so awfully that Zoey said she sounded like a dinosaur giving birth.
"How do you know what a birthing dinosaur sounds like?" Rumi asked between giggles, wiping tears from under her eyes.
"I know dinosaurs pretty closely, actually," Zoey replied with a hum. "That was definitely what they sound like."
Zoey's stomach actually ached from laughing so hard when they finally found a parking spot after a while searching for one. They exited the car, and Zoey hated that she wasn't quick enough to open the door for Rumi, but she'd have other opportunities to do so, or so she hoped.
"I have never been to carnival before," Rumi said as they walked towards the entrance.
"I'm glad I get to be the one to bring you," Zoey smiled. "You'll have the full experience! Games and good food, and the Ferris Wheel!"
"Lead the way," Rumi prompted, gesturing at the entrance.
Zoey wanted to hold her hand, but Rumi had both her hands in her front pockets, much to her dismay. She kept trying to find ways to casually take it, but when she came up with nothing, she let out a frustrated huff.
"You ok?" Rumi asked at the sound, eyeing her a bit hesitantly.
"Yes, perfect," Zoey paused, then looked forward. "Do you mind like not having your right hand in your pocket?"
"Uh," Rumi chuckled confusedly, but complied. "Sure?"
"Good. That helps, thank you."
That was smooth… right? The way Rumi looked at her suggested otherwise, but she ignored it. She stepped a little closer, allowing their hands to brush softly before, very nonchalantly — she hoped — lacing their fingers together. She smiled proudly, but then Rumi laughed again, cute and warm, and Zoey knew none of it had been as smooth as she had expected.
"You just wanted to hold my hand, didn't you?" Rumi teased lightly. "You could've asked."
"What's the fun in that?" Zoey countered with a smirk, to which Rumi simply rolled her eyes, but there was no truth in the act.
The first wave of smell was strong and overwhelming in the best way — caramelized sugar and the molten butter from freshly popped popcorn, the greasy, sizzling musk of funnel cakes frying in deep oil, and the unmistakable sweetness of pink cotton candy. Beneath it, there was the savory scent of grill smoke and cheap sausage.
Zoey had missed this more than she thought she did.
The space is just as crowded as Zoey had expected, overflowing with people weaving through the place. The loud buzz of music mixed with laughter and someone speaking over the mic about something she wouldn't understand if she tried to fill the air around them.
"Do you want to eat first?" Zoey asked, feeling her stomach rumble as if it had been spoken to.
"Yeah," Rumi nodded. "That sounds great."
Fairy lights illuminated the food court in a make-shift tent, setting the place in a warm, comfortable glow. Zoey pulled Rumi towards the hotdog stand. It was a must at a Carnival.
She ordered for both of them, then found a table nearby. The perfect mix of ketchup, mustard, and questionable sausage coated her tongue in the most delicious explosion, stealing a satisfied moan from her.
Rumi chuckled softly, taking a generous bite of her hot dog with a grace Zoey only wished she possessed. How she made even eating cheap hot dogs look delicate, she had no idea.
Zoey went in for another bite, bigger this time, biting into where the most sauce sat, smudging it all over her mouth, though not really paying it any mind.
"You are such a messy eater," Rumi commented amusedly, reaching for some of the napkins. Had she been… watching Zoey's lips? "Come here."
Zoey leaned in on command, eyes glued to Rumi as the taller girl leaned in too. Over the overwhelming mix of aromas, Zoey caught the subtle note of something briny and cool, like ocean breeze. She leaned in further towards the smell, towards Rumi, as if compelled.
One of Rumi's hands found her jaw, thumb brushing shyly over her cheeks, while the other cleaned the corner of her lips with the softest touch. The music and loud murmur of the crowd faded to the background as Zoey looked deeply into those brown eyes infused with shimmers of gold.
Was she even breathing?
Rumi's eyes locked with hers, sending a flutter off on her stomach that felt like a million butterflies dancing all at once. She should be used to this feeling. Rumi was very unintentionally touchy with her, so this feeling came quite often, and yet, it always caught her by surprise.
"Got it," Rumi whispered, lingering for a beat too long before pulling away and getting back to her food.
"Thanks," she tried to make her voice firm and even, she really did, but it came out with a slight tremor regardless.
"What's your favorite part of the carnival?" Rumi asked before taking a bite. "You told me you came a lot when you lived here?"
"Oh, yeah," Zoey nodded. This she could do — talk about her favorite things with Rumi had always been easy. "I love the greasy food, for one."
Rumi laughed, shaking her head. "This stuff will kill you, you know?" She said with that teasing tone of hers, brows raised, paired with a subtle tug on her lips.
"Don't act like you are not loving it," Zoey huffed. "Anyway… There's obviously the game area. I had a collection of plushies from those booths, but my eyes were always on this huge turtle plushie I never scored enough to get."
"Of course you wanted the biggest one," Rumi smiled then, a smile so bright she is sure could light up the whole goddamn state.
"Rums, it's the size of my entire body, you don't understand!" She said, shaking Rumi's arm to make a point. The taller girl only laughed, not mockingly, no, but light and full.
"Then we will need to get that for you," She said it with so much determination Zoey'd have believed her if she didn't know it was completely impossible to get it.
"You wish," Zoey deflated. "In I don't know how many years, I've never gotten even close to getting it."
"We kill demons for a living, Zozo," Rumi said, brows raised as if daring Zoey to doubt her. "I will get you that turtle."
Not even ten minutes later, they both sat at the ring toss stand, rings in hand. Rumi focused on the bottles in front of her like they were the demons they fought, tongue poking out in concentration. The person responsible for the booth — a slim dude who looked anywhere between twenty-five and forty — explained to them how the game worked, but they were barely listening.
"Got it," Zoey said once the man stopped talking. "Let's do this."
They started to toss rings, most falling between the bottles rather than where they were supposed to go, but that didn't deter them. Rumi actually managed to get a lot of points, but not enough to meet her goal. She huffed in frustration as the last ring flew all the way across the table and directly on the floor.
"I hated this," Rumi's lips formed the most adorable pout — a pout Zoey very much wanted to kiss off her. She laughed instead.
"You got 50 points," The dude said with so little enthusiasm, Zoey had to hold back a laugh. "You can choose one of those."
He motioned to a wall with smaller plushies, the ones that made up more than half of her collection in her old bedroom in her father's house. She eyed the wall, hoping to find exactly what she was looking for. Then her eyes fell on it — a small, light pink and purple tiger with darker purple stripes that reminded her of Rumi's patterns.
Perfect.
"I want that one," She pointed at it.
She accepted the tiger, thanking the dude and immediately turning to Rumi with a shy smile. Her heart beat a bit faster as she looked down at the stuffed animal in her hands. She offered it to Rumi then and looked up to meet her eyes.
"For you," Zoey said with a soft smile. "It looks just like you, both in cuteness and the patterns."
Rumi's blush this time wasn't subtle. The flushed redness took over from her neck to the point of her ears. She eyed the tiger, studying it for a beat before looking up to look at Zoey again.
"Y-you think I'm cute, then?" She asked, bottom lip pressed between her lips as if trying to stop a smile.
"The cutest," Zoey nodded.
The smile slipped through, and Zoey could only stare. Rumi's eyes lit up with the small praise, crinkling in the corners as she didn't only smile, she beamed, brighter than the sun, Zoey was pretty sure. And she was the cause of it. That smile was because of her and for her. It nearly made her dizzy.
"I love it," Rumi finally said, hugging the plushie tightly. "Thank you."
"No need to thank me," Zoey said, already tugging her into the next booth.
She dragged Rumi to the duck pond next, where they were handed a plastic fishing rod and told to try and find the golden duck for a thousand points. After fishing for five red ducks — the one with the lowest amount of points — Zoey was convinced there was no golden duck. Rumi managed to fish three green ducks, giving her points to win a ginormous bouncy ball.
They laughed at it, picking the most ridiculous one for the hell of it. Zoey scored enough to get a whistle. A WHISTLE. She groaned so loudly that Rumi was sent into a fit of laughter until actual tears formed in her eyes. Zoey blew on her newly acquired trinket, snapping the half-demon out of her laughter for barely a second before she fell right back into it.
"Mira will be so pissed off," She choked out, head thrown back.
"I intend to use this a lot," Zoey smirked, blowing on it again for good measure.
They moved through the booths, amplifying their collection of bouncy balls and temporary tattoos of random cartoons. They always competed to see who could find the worst tattoo, unable to hold back a new fit of laughter when the person from the booth eyed them like they were lunatics.
Zoey was pretty sure she had never laughed this much before. Not so carefree and unapologetically. She knew Rumi was funny, but her witty comments and jokes made her laugh so much her stomach hurt from the effort. She wouldn't trade this for the world.
"Oh my God!" Rumi gasped, eyes wide and lips slightly parted. "Zoey, that isn't just a big turtle! That is literally bigger than you."
There, in all her glory, sat the plushie she never could get her hands on. The turtle's face was the size of hers, its shell so big that if they were flying commercial, she was sure it would need its own ticket to board.
"Isn't she perfect?" Zoey sighed.
"She?" Rumi mused.
"Of course she is a she, Rums." Zoey propped her hands on her hips. "I'd not spent years trying to win over a man now, would I?"
That stole a whole new bark of laughter from the singer. "I love whatever is wrong with you. Please never change."
Zoey's smile faded as she watched the half-demon shake as she continued to laugh, though Zoey couldn't hear anything but the loud thud of her heart in her ears, as she replayed what Rumi said over and over in her mind.
She loves the way Zoey is.
Never change.
Warmth spread across her entire body in a rush, eliciting goosebumps in its wake. Zoey is pretty sure no one ever told her this before. It had always been 'you're weird' or 'why do you say things like that?', never a genuine laugh followed, not this light and bright and real.
Rumi probably noticed Zoey's change in expression, because she looks at her in a mix of confusion and worry, head leaned to the side.
"I—" Rumi began. "Did I say something wrong?"
"No!" Zoey said quickly, then cleared her throat. "I mean, no. You said the perfect thing, actually."
"Oh," Pink dusts her cheeks as she brushes a strand of hair behind her ear. "I meant it, too. I really think you are perfect just the way you are."
It was Zoey's turn to turn red, if the heat against her cheeks was any indication. "No one ever said that before."
"Then I'll say it every chance I get," Rumi stepped closer, but apparently thought better of it and took Zoey's hand instead. "Let's go get you your girl."
Zoey hoped Rumi knew the only girl she ever wanted was her.
They walked to the basketball booth with such determination, the woman in charge's eyes actually widened as they approached. Rumi put her tiger down and eyed the basketball hoop as if it were Gwi-ma and she was about to slash him in half with her sword. She fished for a few dollars in her pocket and slammed it down on the table.
"How many points do I need to get that turtle?" She pointed towards it without taking her eyes from the woman. God, she looked so hot getting Zoey what she wanted. She couldn't look away if she tried.
"At least 500," The woman replied, gulping as if scared.
"That'd be at least thirteen shots," She said after a quick math. "How many do I get?"
"Fifteen."
"Great."
Believe it or not, Rumi managed to get eleven shots through the hoops. It was not enough, and there were beads of sweat on her temples, but goddamn, she looked so hot as she played. Zoey was entranced, unable to even blink as the haf-demon gave her life for a plushie, just because Zoey wanted it.
"You can try the moving hoops," The woman suggested when Rumi groaned in defeat, pointing to three hoops that spun in circles on the wall. "Each hoop has a different score: twenty, thirty, and fifty points."
Rumi cracked her neck, flexed her fingers, and nodded. "Let's do this."
Zoey continued to stare. How Rumi could make a dumb carnival game look so sexy and hot was beyond her, but she wouldn't complain. She was quite enjoying the view, actually. Rumi fiercely walked in front of the moving hoops and positioned herself.
"Whenever you're ready."
Rumi got the first ball, testing its weight in her hands as she tossed it up and down. She nodded then, as if concluding something in her mind, then fixed her stance, cracking her neck once more.
She threw the ball, in a perfect arc, missing it by so little that Zoey isn't sure how it didn't go in. The next shot set the hoop's red blinking light, and a loud buzz followed. The score changed to twenty. The hoop buzzed again, before Zoey even realized Rumi had shot again. Another thirty points were added.
She kept shooting, her stance and calculation nearly perfect. Her next shot dropped both Zoey's and the woman's jaw. The ball went through the thirty-point hoop, and when it fell, the fifty hoop was just below it, getting one shot in two. Eighty points were added. Zoey wooped, cheering Rumi on as she kept playing.
"Come on, Rums!!" Zoey cheered as she jumped up and down like she was watching the final play of the Super Bowl. "Only seventy more points!"
Rumi got another thirty, then another twenty. The next ball hit the hoops and fell to the floor without going in. One ball left. The air seemed to still around them, and all Zoey could hear was the beat of her heart and the heaviness of her breath. Rumi wasn't doing much better — her own chest rose and fell unevenly as she moved her head from one side to the other and rolled her shoulders back.
Rumi took a deep, steadying breath and then sent the ball flying towards the hoops. Everything moved in slow motion. Rumi held her hands in the throwing position, Zoey held her breath, and the woman's hand flew to her head as the three of them followed the ball with their eyes. It rolled in the air, slow and precise, until it hit the right side of the hoop, then the left, the right again, then up in a perfect straight line.
And in.
For a moment, not even the hoop light blinked. There was no buzz, only the muffled sound of people passing by. Some had stopped to watch, forming a small crowd around the booth. When the buzz went off, everyone erupted in cheer.
"OH MY GOD!" Rumi yelled, turning to Zoey.
"You did it!!" Zoey screamed over the loud noise. "You fucking did it!"
In a quick, swift movement, she was on Rumi, arms around her waist, lifting her off the ground and spinning her around as the patterned girl giggled, hooking her own arms around Zoey's neck and holding tight.
"I told you I'd get it," Rumi chuckled as Zoey put her down.
"And you looked so hot doing it, baby," Zoey grinned, but when the words caught up to her, her eyes grew so wide she could feel them nearly popping off her face.
"Did—" Rumi said, red to the tip of her ears. "Did you just call me hot and baby in one single phrase?"
"I— It, uh…" Own it, Zoey. "I did. Is— is that ok?"
Rumi smiled then, bright and amused, and a soft laugh followed, quickly becoming Zoey's new favorite sound. "Yeah. It's okay. I like it, baby."
Zoey's heart stopped completely for at least three too many beats, then she stepped closer, chest on chest, hand finding the taller girl's jaw and angling it so that their eyes met. "Please, say that again."
"Baby," Rumi repeated, slow and drawing it out like honey, eyes never leaving hers.
Zoey wanted to kiss her right there and then, in front of all those people, to let everyone — including Rumi — know how deeply she felt for the woman in front of her. She would have if the woman from the booth hadn't hit her head by accident with the giant turtle they now had to walk around with.
Rumi stepped back with a soft laugh, reaching for her tiger before gripping the turtle's head while Zoey held it by the tail. They waved goodbye and wandered back into the blur of people, hitting one or two with the giang plushie. Three annoyed looks too many made them take Sir Turtles-a-lot back to the car, so they could continue to explore the carnival.
They weaved through the shopping tents hand in hand, stopping every so often when something caught their eyes. They got Mira a moon necklace, Celine an opalite stone for her collection, and Bobby a crafter leather bracelet they know he'll love, then went towards the Ferris Wheel.
Zoey paid for their ticket before leading Rumi into one of the cars, closing the door behind her, and taking a seat to Rumi's left. The way up was charged, silent, anticipation building inside Zoey as if she were standing on the edge of a cliff staring at the bluest and clearest water below, ready to take the jump.
"I don't think I've had this much fun like ever," Rumi said, cutting through the silence, though her voice was barely a whisper, almost shy.
Zoey turned to face her fully, the movement slow. The gentle sway of the Ferris wheel car was the only motion between them. "Me neither," she admitted, her voice equally low. She reached out, her fingers just brushing a loose strand of hair behind Rumi's ear, then finding the curve of her jaw and tracing the line of her smile with exquisite care. "This is possibly the best date of my life."
They fell back into silence, and none of them moved. They stayed there, eyes glued to each other and with a distance that at the same time was close enough, Zoey caught that wiff of sea breeze, it felt like oceans apart. She shifted closer, but just slightly, just enough that their thighs touched.
"Zo," Rumi whispered, a breathless plea against the silent night.
"I—" Zoey said, eyes dipping to the patterned girl's lips, then back to her eyes. Rumi's patterns flared, a mix of blue and pink that almost created the most beautiful shade of purple, electric and alive. "You're glowing." She noted, eyes following each jagged line across Rumi's face with reverence.
"Yeah," Rumi replied, chest rising and falling rapidly. When Zoey continued to just stare, hesitating to close the final distance between them, Rumi groaned. "God, Zoey, will you please just kiss me already?"
She didn't have time to question the urgency in Rumi's voice. She closed the small, necessary gap between them, her free hand coming up to cup the back of Rumi's neck. The first contact was a desperate pressure, a fierce, sudden claim fueled by the fear of all that joy. Zoey kissed her, pouring all the dizzy anticipation and every ounce of that urgency into the press of her mouth.
It was tentative at first — there was no rush, just the pressure of their lips brushing together. But then Zoey finally took that jump off the cliff, pressing closer, growing slightly more desperate. Rumi gasped against her mouth, parting her lips and granting Zoey full access. She reveled in Rumi's taste — something sweet like caramelized popcorn with a hint of something that was so uniquely Rumi.
The half-demon let out a throaty noise, low and needy, and Zoey swallowed it, hand tangling in soft lavender curls on the base of her neck. When they finally pulled away just enough for air, lips still ghosting each other, they were both panting. Zoey's lips tingled from the kiss as butterflies swarmed her stomach with more force.
"My stomach is fluttering," Rumi said with her eyes closed as she pressed her forehead to Zoey's, a lazy smile on her lips.
"That's how you always make me feel," Zoey confessed quietly, hand still cupping her cheeks.
"Always?" Rumi pulled away enough to look at her, brow furrowed slightly in question.
"I, uhm," Zoey bit her lower lip, words failing her for a moment. Rumi didn't push. She gave her time, though she reached for Zoey's hand, intertwining their fingers.
Rumi's hand was smaller, more delicate, so Zoey's wrapped around hers perfectly. Rumi studied the tangle of fingers for a moment, then looked back up to meet Zoey's eyes with a soft, shy smile on her lips.
"I always wondered what your hands would feel like against mine," She confessed, voice barely above a whisper. "They just… fit." She added, mesmerized. "Like they belong like this."
"Always?" Zoey mimicked the question, quirking a brow at her.
Rumi chuckled, bumping her shoulders against Zoey's with an eye roll. "Shut up."
They sat in silence for a moment longer, not charged or awkward, but light, warm. Zoey brushed her thumb over a pattern on Rumi's hand, watching as the jagged line seemed to respond to her touch, flaring in a honmoon blue hue that followed her thumb's path.
"Always," Zoey murmured, keeping her eyes on their hands.
"What?" Rumi asked, and Zoey could feel her eyes on her.
"You have always made me feel like this — seen, like I matter," Then quieter she added, "Like I am enough and never too much."
"Zo," Rumi said, lifting her face with a finger under her chin, the two letters setting a whole new flutter on her chest.
"I've always had a crush on you," She confessed, eyes searching Rumi's like she was afraid to miss a single flicker of her reaction. "I really, really like you, Rumi. And if you'll let me, I'd like to show you just how much. I'd spent my life proving it to you."
Rumi's eyes softened and glistened against the lights from a world apart that the carnival had become. She let out a nervous, wet laugh, sniffing as she looked back at Zoey. "You have no idea how hard it has been to keep these feelings at bay whenever you so much as looked at me," Rumi says, chuckling through her words like she couldn't believe they were being spoken out loud. "Whenever we have movie nights and our thighs brush, it feels like I've been struck by a lightning."
"Wait," Zoey said, shaking her head. She surely misheard it. "I— What? I need you to say all of that again."
Rumi laughed again, sure and bubbly. She did not repeat her words, instead, she pulled Zoey close again, then she kissed her again. This time, there was no hesitancy, no fear, just reverence in the way Rumi's lips brushed against hers. Zoey melted into her, her one and only focus was the way everywhere they touched tingled, the press of Rumi's mouth against hers, the taste of her, the smell of her.
Her.
Yeah. This was, without a doubt, the best date Zoey had ever been on.
And hopefully, the last one she’d ever need to go on.
