Chapter Text
It all started on a summer day.
For years afterwards, Rumi would feel this nagging anxiety as late summer grew closer. The memory of everything that had happened loomed in her mind, like some seasonal haunting—doomed to repeat eternally, like Sisyphus and his boulder.
But as difficult as that time was and as hard as it was for her to understand, she would later come to appreciate it. What she had perceived in the moment as a shattering of her existence—as a total annihilation of her future—was instead more like being broken open than being broken down. The future she'd been planning wasn't ash, but kindling.
Of course, it was easy to look back in clarity. In that moment, she felt like she was dying.
That night, she was nervous but excited. She and Jinu didn't often go out to dinner—not a formal, proper dinner at a nice restaurant. So when he asked her, several days in advance, it felt like fate. Like this had to be the night, the night he would ask her.
It was a question she had been waiting for. The timing made sense. Her degree was almost complete—just one more year to go. Plenty of time to plan. Maybe they could do it next summer? That would be lovely—a June wedding.
All these thoughts bubbled up inside her as she got ready that evening. She wore a nice dress. Not something she'd wear to court or to class, but a nice gown that rarely left her closet. She let her hair down, even though it made her feel a bit unmoored, her traditional braid almost like second nature. She had to stop herself more than once while sitting at her vanity from parting her hair and weaving the strands together as she did each day.
She did her makeup. She wore just a hint of perfume. A bottle of something nice that Mira had given her—a vendor gift she thought Rumi would like. She put on a nice pair of stud earrings, little diamonds from Celine. She wore her mother's necklace.
She did all these things to prepare. And she didn't wear a single ring or bracelet. Because she wanted to leave space for whatever he chose.
But she never thought to ask.
So that night, when he sat across the table from her and looked nervous, she assumed it was because he was afraid of what she would say. But she would say yes, of course, because that was all part of the plan. He never needed to have doubted it. It had all been laid out before her, long before they had even met.
High school. Valedictorian. College. Graduated with honours. Law school. Magna cum laude. Prestigious law firm. Fast track to partner. Married. Two kids.
Life, planned.
Sure, maybe it was a little strict in structure. And maybe things with Jinu had always felt a little… Perfunctory. He was nice enough. Smart enough. Driven enough. He didn't pressure her. He mostly left her alone, which she found she rather preferred.
She never suspected that what she perceived as ease was in fact detachment.
When the waiter cleared their plates that evening, she felt herself grow tense. Now was the moment. She looked down, expecting him to fumble for the ring box. He certainly seemed anxious enough. She could see sweat shining along his temples.
He started off a bit strangely.
"Rumi. There's something I've been wanting to talk to you about."
"Yes?"
"Well, I've been nervous. I wasn't sure how you would take it. But I feel like it's now or never. What with you finishing school soon and everything."
"Right." This was an odd way to begin, but Jinu had always been odd.
"You see… I've realized some things in the last year. About how I want my life to be."
Rumi was silent. Anxious. She took a fold of the fabric of her dress between her fingers and worried it beneath the table.
"I felt like it was only right to tell you as soon as I decided. So… I hope you can forgive me someday."
"Forgive you?"
That should have been the first clue. But she kept giving him the benefit of the doubt, for some fucking reason.
"Yeah. For… I guess. Wasting your time?"
"What?"
"Because, well. I think… This isn't working out. It isn't going to work out."
"Jinu, what are you talking about?"
"We… I think we should break up. I'm… I'm sorry."
What the fuck? "Break up? What? I don't understand. I thought—"
"I mean. I'm surprised to hear you disagree."
"Disagree? That we should break up? I thought you were going to ask me to marry you, Jinu."
"What?" He looked so genuinely shocked.
"You… We never go out like this."
"Yes, exactly."
"What the hell do you mean—" she stopped herself. She could feel her voice rising. She took a deep breath before continuing. "What do you mean by 'exactly'?"
"We never go out. We never do anything. I don't even think you're very interested in me. We've been together for three years, and we've never even had sex. You've never even slept over at my place."
Rumi had to stop herself from scoffing. "What does that have to do with anything?"
"We're like… Colleagues. Going through the motions of a relationship."
"I don't understand. How long have you felt this way?"
Jinu crossed his arms and looked away. "A little while."
"Why didn't you talk to me?"
He sighed. "The truth is, I was right there with you. But then I met someone. And he—"
"He? He?"
"Yes, he," Jinu said coolly. "Don't tell me you're homophobic now."
"It's not homophobic to be angry that my boyfriend is leaving me for a man!"
Suddenly, the restaurant got very quiet. Rumi's cheeks burned with shame. She lowered her voice and continued.
"So, you're telling me this now. Why?" She hissed.
"Because you deserve to know. That… It's over. I'm sorry."
"Why… Why did you bring me here? To this place?"
"I thought—I guess it felt… Respectful?"
Respectful? Respectful? "Are you fucking kidding me?" She shouted.
The restaurant ground to a silent halt again. Someone at a nearby table cleared their throat. Someone else started recording with their phone. Rumi seethed, but went silent.
Jinu looked around and leaned forward, speaking quietly. "I didn't expect you to react this way. Rumi, honestly. This is the most passionate I've seen you in our entire time together."
Taking a shaky inhale, Rumi winced before speaking with as much control as she could muster. "Please. Leave."
Jinu blinked. He looked confused for a split second before standing. "Um. The bill is on me, so. Feel free to… Have whatever. And I'm sorry. Again. I guess."
Rumi nodded, grimacing. He gave her one last look before scurrying to the door.
She should have gone home. She should have called an Uber, gotten into bed, and slept for twelve hours. But instead she called the waiter over and said, "Can I get a bottle of red wine?"
The server looked nervous. "Of course. House red?"
"No. Whatever you have that's most expensive. Please."
Instead of wallowing in bed, she drank ₩800,000 worth of wine before the staff politely asked her to leave. Or, more specifically, they asked her who they could call to pick her up. Because she was deliriously, embarrassingly drunk. But she was a quiet drunk, at least. Mostly. Just crying silently at the table, drinking glass after glass.
She wasn't even sure why she was so upset. And maybe that in and of itself was upsetting. Because she didn't really care that Jinu had left. She cared what it meant for her plans. She cared that suddenly the equation of her life and her future was unbalanced. And maybe that's all he ever was. A tick box.
Was that so wrong? To have a plan?
She gave the staff Mira's number. Because she knew that she would come, no questions asked. She was just like that. She was a good roommate. And an even better friend. She would come to get her. She would soothe her. She would hold her hand.
And her hair.
Rumi didn't remember a ton of the rest of the night. She could remember Mira coming to get her, guiding her out of the restaurant and gently instructing her to keep her head out of the car window. But Rumi managed to make it into the apartment before running for the bathroom. Mira held her hair back as she emptied her stomach into the toilet bowl. She was never wearing her hair down again.
Her other roommate, Zoey, got home at some point and joined Mira in her vigil, checking on her periodically as she lay crumpled on the bathroom tile. She was marinating in tears, sweat, and wine. After a while, they convinced her to take a shower and tucked her into bed.
The next morning, she was finally able to explain herself. Through a pounding headache and still queasy, eating crackers and drinking tea, she told them what had happened. They exchanged a look.
"What was that look?" Rumi demanded.
"What look? There was no look," Zoey said, quickly.
"Zoey, you don't have to lie to her," Mira intoned, eyes sliding in Zoey's direction.
Zoey looked annoyed. "She's already upset, Mira."
"Can you both not talk about me like I'm not here?" Rumi snapped. Then faltered. "Sorry."
Mira shrugged. "It's okay. You're not feeling well. And I'm not trying to kick you when you're down, but… I'll just say I'm not surprised. Like, what he did was shitty. But your relationship always kind of… Confused me."
Rumi furrowed her brow. "What?"
Zoey looked at Mira sharply. "What she means, Rumi, is that you never seemed particularly interested in Jinu. At least from the outside looking in."
Mira shrugged. "However you want to say it. He seemed more like your coworker than your boyfriend."
"That's…" Rumi shook her head. "He said that, too."
Mira and Zoey exchanged another look.
"Stop doing that!" Rumi whined.
"Sorry," Mira and Zoey said in unison.
"Look," Rumi began, closing her eyes. "Just… Tell me the truth. Was I being naive or something? I thought we were fine."
Mira looked at Zoey and then back at Rumi. She took a deep breath, looking away before saying, "It's like we mentioned. You didn't seem very interested in him. Like, did he ever even sleep here?"
Rumi flushed. "No, but—"
"Sorry," Mira interjected. "I get that it's kind of personal. But, like… Did you two ever…?"
"Mira!" Zoey snapped. "You don't have to answer that, Rumi."
"No, no. It's fine." Rumi chewed her lip. "Um, no. We never slept together. We had like… Kissed some. I guess."
"You guess?" Mira asked, seemingly in disbelief.
"We did! We kissed a few times. We would kiss occasionally."
"Rumi, you were with him for what… Three years?" Mira asked, looking skeptical.
"Yeah." Rumi felt suddenly self-conscious. Why hadn't she and Jinu done more? "I mean, he did… He did say he was leaving me for, um. A man."
"What?" Zoey and Mira asked in unison.
"I guess he met someone else. And they happened to be a guy."
"So he's gay?" Mira asked, confused.
"He could be bi!" Zoey pointed out.
Rumi folded her arms on the table and buried her face in them. "This is so embarrassing."
"Why is it embarrassing, Rumi unnie?" Zoey asked, placing a hand on her arm.
"Because I thought he was going to propose," Rumi mumbled into the fabric of her sleeves.
"Oh, Rumi. I'm so sorry," Zoey said, genuinely.
"I'm not," Mira said, bluntly.
"Mira!" Zoey snapped.
"What? Look. She clearly wasn't that into him. She shouldn't marry him! She should be with someone who—who really appreciates her! And who's interested in her! Rumi, you're beautiful. Anybody would be lucky to be with you. You should pick someone who will worship you."
Rumi lifted her head and looked at Mira. That was a lot more than she usually said about anything. "Thank you. I think."
"You're welcome," Mira mumbled, looking anywhere but Rumi's face.
So Rumi was… Single. For the first time in three years. That was fine. It didn't actually feel that different. Which, maybe in retrospect, was another sign.
So her relationship had been sexless. And sort of… Boring. Wasn't that normal?
Mira never really got into relationships. She just occasionally dressed up nicely and disappeared for a few days. Coming home in the same rumpled clothes she left in, sometimes with a mark or two on her neck or her thigh. The thigh marks made Rumi look away, cheeks warm.
Zoey dated some. There had been a guy or two in the years they'd lived together. Seok something. Rumi couldn't quite remember.
After a few weeks, Rumi felt ready to try again. Try to figure out if it was just her who was incapable of passion. Or whatever it was Jinu had said.
But she had no idea how to begin. She and Jinu had met at a mixer for incoming law students. She hadn't really looked at anyone twice during her undergraduate program up until that point.
So she asked Zoey and Mira. How did they find their… Connections?
"First off, don't say connections," Mira said, leaning back into the sofa, arm across the headrest. "It makes it sound like you're trying to buy drugs or something."
"I'm glad you're ready to get back out there, Rumi," Zoey said, gently ignoring Mira's comment. "To be honest, I meet people mostly on the apps."
"Apps?" Rumi asked, genuinely unsure.
Zoey started to turn her head towards Mira, but Rumi made a sound, waving her hand. "No looks!"
"Sorry," Zoey said, tucking her hair behind her ear. "Um. Well, there are a bunch of dating apps. They're all kind of similar, but some are for more specific things. There's Tinder, Hinge, Bumble. Any of those could be a good starting place. But, Rumi, just a warning—"
"A lot of guys on these apps suck," Mira interjected. "So, just be prepared to block people."
"Are they like... Jerks or something?" Rumi asked, slightly fearful.
"Yeah. And other things," Mira muttered.
"Let's make you a profile! It'll be fun." Zoey smiled and held up her phone.
"Yeah. Okay." Rumi wasn't sure, but she was willing to give most things a try.
Making her profile was intimidating. Mira and Zoey helped her pick out a few cute pictures. The other part—trying to sound funny, clever, or even just interesting—was hard. How was someone supposed to decide she was worth talking to from just a snapshot like this?
"Okay, the last bit is easy. What are you interested in?"
"Uh…" Rumi blinked. "What are my… Options?"
"Well, you can choose men or women," Zoey began.
"Or both," Mira added.
"Right! Or both. So, what do you think?" Zoey held the phone out to her, showing the options.
"Um. Men. I guess."
Mira huffed very softly.
"What?" Rumi asked, a flicker of anxiety passing through her.
"Nothing. You just didn't sound very sure." Mira brushed some hair behind her ear and pulled out her own phone, looking interested in something on the screen.
"Okay," Zoey continued, glancing between them. "What about age?"
"Um. Maybe three years younger or older? I think outside of that, maybe we would be too different?"
"Sounds good!" Zoey tapped a few things, then turned the screen back to her. "Okay! Now for the fun part." She handed her phone back. "Swiping!"
"Okay. What do I do?" Rumi stared down at the photo on her screen of a generic-looking man in glasses.
"If you like them, you swipe right. If you don't, you swipe left."
"Oh. Just like that?"
"Just like that!" Zoey said with a smile.
Rumi swiped through a few profiles. Left. Left. Left. Finally, she came to a guy who was maybe kind of cute. He had a dog in his photos. Rumi liked dogs.
She swiped right. Her phone vibrated. "Oh! Something happened."
Zoey glanced over her shoulder. "Oh! You matched! That was fast."
"What does that mean?"
"You both swiped right, so now you get to message each other."
"Oh!" When Rumi looked back at the screen, there was a message.
a24fan: hi cutie
rumi1998: hi!
rumi1998: how are you?
Three dots appeared. Rumi was feeling confident so far.
"Oh! They sent a picture." Rumi's finger hovered over the image prompt.
"Rumi, no, don't click—"
But it was too late. She tapped the image, and a fucking penis appeared. "Ugh! What the hell?" She threw her phone across the sofa, outraged. "Seriously? My first match?"
"Sorry, Rumi," Zoey said, genuinely. Mira, however, was barely restraining her laughter. Rumi hit her with a pillow, and she cackled.
Rumi had had enough of the dating world for that day.
The following evening, she tried swiping again, but after her first encounter, every man looked like a potential creep. She sighed. She remembered Zoey mentioning there were other apps. Maybe she just needed to find the right one for her.
She tapped into the dating category on the app store. Everything looked kind of the same. Then she saw it. A small tag beneath the name displayed a rainbow icon and the text LGBT. She bit her lip. Maybe she was looking for something different.
The app's headline read: Peaches🍑 the app for women who love women.
Rumi flushed scarlet. She looked around, as if anyone was going to be in her room, watching her. She tapped the app's peach-shaped icon and held her breath. A screen appeared with a peach emoji surrounded by hearts.
Ready to meet your match?
The text above the image read. Below that, it continued:
Whether it's forever or just for right now…
Rumi tapped the arrow to progress. She reassured herself that she could stop and delete the app at any point if she felt uncomfortable.
It asked for a few basics: her gender, her age, and her location. It asked her what she liked, to describe herself in a few words, and to enter what she was interested in. She hesitated before writing her bio, simply putting, "I'm a girl trying new things." She tapped a few other options. Basically, exactly what she'd told Zoey earlier, except… For girls. There were some tags for… Sex things she didn't recognize, so she just avoided them.
The app asked for at least one photo. Rumi hesitated. She looked through her camera roll. It was mostly pictures of pretty sunsets and cups of coffee with fun latte art. God, maybe she had become boring.
She scrolled, looking for images of herself. There were a few, though most were selfies with the girls or… He who shall not be named. Besides that, she wondered if she should really be putting her face on something like this anyway.
She thought for a few seconds. She sat up in bed again, leaning against the headboard. Beside her, Mr. Bear shifted, falling against her hip.
Oh! She carefully took her stuffed bear, placed him neatly in front of a pillow, and snapped a photo. Satisfied, she set it as her profile image.
Perfectly normal profile picture for a twenty-six-year-old woman on a lesbian dating app. Right?
The app asked her to choose a display name. She hesitated. Glancing back at Mr. Bear, she typed "bearwithme". She huffed softly in amusement at her pun. She tapped to complete her profile.
Time to meet cute!
The app showed her a woman. She was sweet, with short dark hair, smiling at the camera. She liked K-pop and travelling. Rumi swiped right.
Another woman appeared. She was more masculine. She was holding a fish for some reason? Rumi hesitated. She swiped left.
After a few dozen profiles, Rumi sort of felt like she was getting the hang of things. But she hadn't matched with anyone yet. She realized she was starting to feel hungry, anyway. She put her phone in her pocket and wandered out into the kitchen. Zoey was there, putting some rice in the rice cooker.
"Hey, Rumi."
"Hey, Zoey. What are you making?"
"I got some bibimbap toppings at the store, so I'm just prepping some rice. Would you mind frying some eggs for us? Mira will be home soon."
Rumi nodded, turning to the fridge to grab the carton of eggs and some green onions, setting them wordlessly next to Zoey. She put a pan on the stove and turned on the gas.
"Having any luck with the apps, yet?" Zoey asked.
Rumi froze as she was cracking an egg into the hot pan, bits of shell falling in. She carefully picked them out before answering. "Um, not yet. Still getting a feel for it."
"Yeah, it's definitely an adjustment."
Rumi fried the eggs, careful not to break any yolks. Just as she turned off the gas, she heard a soft chime and her phone vibrated in her pocket. It wasn't her usual text notification alert. She pulled out her phone and saw a bright-pink banner alert from Peaches. She'd gotten her first match!
"What was that sound?" Zoey asked from the sink where she was washing the green onions.
"Nothing!" Rumi said quickly. "Just an… App alert."
"I see," Zoey said quietly, smirking at her.
"I have to, um. Go to the bathroom. I'll be right back." Rumi scurried away, phone still clutched tightly in one hand.
When she was safely inside her en suite bathroom, she opened the app.
It's a match!
She'd matched with a woman named Yuki. Her profile photos all included a grey tabby cat.
You both love:
reading, movies, and cats
moonandstars97: hi!
bearwithme: hi!
Rumi stared at the screen. Several seconds passed, but the woman didn't message again. Rumi hesitated, then typed another message.
bearwithme: how's your day going?
Was that too casual? Did she need like… A "line"?
She waited, at first patiently, then not so patiently, for the woman to reply. Nothing. A minute went by, then another. Rumi huffed, annoyed. She supposed this was better than an unsolicited dick pic, but getting immediately ignored wasn't particularly nice either. She sighed, putting her phone back in her pocket and returning to the kitchen.
Dinner was nice. Mira was a little late getting home, but Rumi waited patiently to eat with her. When she walked in, a bit flustered, Rumi said, "Hi!"
Mira's face immediately transformed into a smile. "Hey."
Rumi always got a little thrill when Mira smiled at her. She was a really good friend.
The rest of the week passed quickly. Rumi got a few more matches on Peaches, always desperately scrambling to grab her phone when the notification chimed. She had a few pleasant conversations. Nothing really "sparked".
On Friday, the weather turned sour. Humid and thunderous, but no rain fell. Rumi spent most of the day at the law library, skimming case briefs for her upcoming tort law research paper. When she finally got home, she flopped on the sofa next to Zoey.
"Just a sec, I have to kill this guy," Zoey said before letting out a little squeak of rage. "Come back here, motherfucker."
Rumi watched her out of the corner of her eye, amused. She scrolled on her phone for a bit, swiping on Peaches. She gently angled the screen away from Zoey, just in case. Sometimes the pictures were a little risque.
Half an hour later, Mira appeared. She groaned as she stepped through the door. "It's so fucking muggy outside." She chucked her work bag to the floor before carefully removing her boots. She grabbed a glass of water from the kitchen and walked over to the sofa, sitting down hard next to Rumi.
"Hi," Rumi said with a gentle smile.
Mira made a soft grunting sound. She settled next to her, tipping her head on Rumi's shoulder.
"Have an okay day?" Rumi asked.
"Yeah, it was fine. Just long."
"Yeah," Rumi breathed. She turned her attention back to Zoey's game, watching as she started a new round. Rumi was about to speak again when she heard it.
In the short time she'd had the Peaches app, she had developed an almost Pavlovian response to its new message sound effect. It was a soft little sound, but it made her face flush. But in her pocket, her phone was still.
Rumi tried very hard not to react physically as she slowly came to the realization. Just as she began to doubt what she had heard, Mira shifted against her. She reached for her phone, and Rumi watched as she dismissed the distinctive peach emoji notification from the lock screen.
Mira was on Peaches—beautiful, untouchable, model-level gorgeous Mira.
How was Rumi supposed to compete with someone like that?
Why would someone like Mira be interested in Rumi?
Mira snuggled against her shoulder, sighing.
Later that night, Rumi settled in bed for another round of swiping. She was getting a little discouraged. She wasn't at the point of believing she was destined to be alone for the rest of her life. Still, she had happened to read an article about escheatment earlier that day, the process by which the state inherits assets left by individuals who die with no living partner or relatives, and wondered for a moment if it would ever be relevant to her.
She swiped left on another mostly empty profile.
Then a new image appeared on her screen.
It was a woman's… Chest. She was technically wearing a shirt, but the cut was so low that Rumi could see almost everything. She sat up in bed, suddenly deeply interested. She slowly, carefully scrolled through the profile's other photos. There was a picture of the woman from the neck down in a dress with a high slit. Her legs were so long. The last photo was taken in bed—the camera angled down at the woman's body in a complete set of lacy black lingerie, lying on her back.
Rumi felt her face heat up, her stomach clench. This was the most beautiful woman she had ever seen. She shook her head. She knew she didn't stand a chance, but she swiped right.
It's a match!
Rumi choked on her own saliva. Spluttering for a moment, she dropped her phone. After coughing a few times, she recovered, grabbed it again, and rolled onto her stomach. She unlocked the screen.
An animation of an avalanche of peach emojis played. Rumi rolled her eyes. She'd already seen that enough.
The next screen popped up, showing their profile pictures side by side: Rumi's bear and the stranger's… Cleavage… Rumi swallowed nervously.
You both love:
kimbap, Jihyo, and dogs
Get chatting!
onthewall: hi
bearwithme: hi
bearwithme: you like jihyo?
onthewall: yeah. she's hot
onthewall: wbu
bearwithme: oh. yeah I like her too
onthewall: no I mean are you hot?
Rumi blinked. She supposed it wasn't entirely surprising that someone with pictures like this person would be a bit forward.
onthewall: kidding
onthewall: maybe
onthewall: I don't usually match with people with no pics, but you seem sweet
Rumi blushed. Blushed! At that? She wasn't sure if Jinu had ever said anything that made her blush.
bearwithme: oh. thank you. I like your pics
Was that pervy? All her pics were basically partially nude.
onthewall: I bet you do
Rumi shrank a bit into herself.
onthewall: kidding
onthewall: could I see you?
bearwithme: um. I don't know if I have any good pictures
onthewall: you could take some now?
Rumi sat up in bed, her heart racing. She looked down at what she was wearing—a hoodie and shorts. That didn't feel very sexy.
onthewall: I could trade you some fun ones of me
Rumi pulled the phone very close, as if it contained something secret and precious.
bearwithme: fun?
onthewall: more fun than my public ones
Rumi whined. What was this sound? How was this person doing this to her through the phone?
bearwithme: what do you want to see?
onthewall: you said on your profile you do yoga
onthewall: do you have abs?
Rumi didn't spend a ton of time looking at her body. She appreciated it, what it did for her, that she was generally healthy and able to do the things she needed to do. But she wasn't sure if she could pinpoint her best feature. And that felt especially true when subtracting her face from the equation.
She pulled up her hoodie and examined her stomach. She wasn't shredded or anything, but her abs were visible beneath the surface. She flexed them a little and took an awkward selfie below the neck.
She pulled it up on the app. It asked her if she wanted to send a vanishing photo. She tapped yes, not exactly sure what that meant.
Three bubbles appeared.
onthewall: oh
onthewall: so you are hot
The phone slipped out of Rumi's hand as she moved to cover her face. This profoundly gorgeous stranger thought she was hot? Was this some sort of… Catfish or deep fake scenario? She wasn't super clear on what either of those things meant, beyond reading about them in the news. But it seemed more plausible than reality.
bearwithme: um thank you
A new photo prompt appeared from onthewall. She tapped it. And she almost passed out.
The stranger was on her knees on a hotel bed, the photo cropped just below her neck. She was in another complete set of black lace lingerie. Something about seeing her this way, her pale skin exposed, made Rumi's teeth itch. She wanted to consume her.
Then the photo vanished. She tapped to open it again, at first casually, then frantically.
bearwithme: it disappeared
onthewall: yeah that's how the vanishing photos work haha
onthewall: you wanted more hm?
Rumi covered her face with one hand.
bearwithme: maybe
onthewall: not so shy after all huh?
Rumi exhaled, not realizing she had been holding her breath.
bearwithme: you're really really pretty
onthewall: that's probably the sweetest compliment I've gotten on this app
onthewall: usually people are spicier
bearwithme: you are those other things too… I just… when I look at you, that's what I think about first. how pretty you are
onthewall: ok sweet talker
onthewall: one more
Another photo prompt appeared, and Rumi almost choked on her saliva.
She tapped the disappearing photo. Briefly, a set of perfect breasts appeared on her screen. She had to grip her phone tightly to resist throwing it across the room, feeling overwhelmed. She took a moment to fully appreciate the soft curves and the dark, blush nipples before the image vanished. She could actually feel her mouth watering just thinking about kissing them. Was she becoming a pervert?
bearwithme: wow
onthewall: something to remember me by
bearwithme: where are you going?
onthewall: need to sleep. early morning tmrw
bearwithme: can we chat more tmrw?
onthewall: we can. I'm M by the way
Rumi hesitated. She supposed her first initial couldn't hurt to share.
bearwithme: I'm R
onthewall: nice meeting you R
onthewall: sweet dreams
bearwithme: you too
Her bubble turned yellow as she went offline. Rumi lay back on the bed, putting her phone face down on her chest. She was still breathing quickly. She stared at the ceiling for a minute in silence before kicking and waving her legs and feet like crazy. She had never felt so alive in her entire life!
Was this what flirting was supposed to feel like? God. She had been doing it horribly wrong.