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Rumi couldn’t sing again, and she was certain she knew why.
Zoey and Mira were at rehearsal; a rehearsal that Rumi would not be attending, claiming to have come down with a cold. In truth, she had been performing warmup exercises in the shower that morning, as she often did before rehearsals, and her voice had given out every time she tried to sing above the staff. Then her middle range went too, and her low range.
She currently couldn’t get her voice to produce a single note.
Now she sat on her bed, legs crossed, trying to meditate. She had a horrible, sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach that she knew the solution to her current problem, but she wasn’t sure she had the courage to go through with it.
A light knock on her bedroom door startled her. “Rumi?” came Mira’s voice. “Can we come in?”
“Please?” added Zoey’s voice.
“Come in,” Rumi said, and she inwardly cringed at the extra bass in her voice.
The door swung open. Zoey and Mira entered Rumi’s room, Zoey stepping tentatively, Mira trying to seem casual and failing. “We’re worried about you,” said Mira with her characteristic bluntness. “When we fought those demons yesterday, you kept throwing yourself into danger when you didn’t have to, and now suddenly you’re sick even though we haven’t heard so much as a sniffle from you.” Mira sat down across from Rumi. “Is there something you want to talk to us about?” she continued, her voice more gentle than usual.
“We really care about you,” Zoey added, sitting down beside Mira. “If something else is going on with you, we want to know.”
For a few moments, Rumi fought mightily not to cry, but she failed, tears spilling down her cheeks. “It’s a little sooner than I thought this would happen, but…” Rumi called upon the honmoon to retrieve her sword for what would be the last time. Trembling, she extended the hand holding the sword to Mira and Zoey. “I think I heal pretty fast now,” she whispered; she had incurred a slash wound on her calf the day before while fighting demons, when she had leapt in front of Zoey to take a hit for her because Zoey’s life—and Mira’s—was worth more than hers, even though Zoey might have had it handled. The wound was already almost healed. “So you’ll have to…to cut me in half. Or cut my head off. I just…I want to be facing you. I want the last thing I see to be the two of you.”
Zoey recoiled, gasping. Mira froze, but after a long moment of silence, she reached out and took the sword from Rumi. Mira stood, moving slowly, staring woodenly at Rumi. Choking back sobs, Rumi watched her bandmate; Zoey looked on, her eyes wide and her mouth agape.
Mira pointed the tip of the sword at the floor, holding her arm close to her side, the universal gesture of “I’m holding a dangerous blade and am actively trying to keep anyone from being hurt by it.”
“Mira?” Rumi hiccupped.
“Rumi,” said Mira, and her voice was low and hard, but Rumi could hear it beginning to quake. “I am going to hold this sword away from you, and I am not going to put a scratch on you or do anything else until you give us a fucking explanation.”
Rumi wrapped her arms around herself, sobbing openly, her voice reverberating with frequencies that weren’t ordinarily there. “I’m changing into a demon,” she wept. “I’m changing into a demon and I can’t stop it. Since the night of the Idol Awards, I…I can see in the dark. And I’ve started healing faster.”
“Rumi, those sound like helpful things,” Zoey insisted. She moved closer to Rumi, resting a hand on her shoulder; Rumi pulled away.
“Neither of those things sound dangerous,” Mira agreed. “You changed that night.” Her voice softened. “But it’s okay, Rumi. We still care about you. You’re still our friend.”
“That’s not all,” Rumi whimpered. She closed her eyes, unable to face her bandmates. “I…I love you both. Or…I wish I could say that, but I don’t think I can call it love. Not with what else I’m feeling.”
“What?” said Zoey blankly.
“What else are you feeling?” Mira asked guardedly. Rumi looked up at her, and Mira shifted position slightly, angling her body so the hand holding the sword was as far from Rumi as possible. “Rumi…please, tell us,” she continued. “Whatever it is, it’s okay. We’ll get through this. Together.”
“It can’t be worse than anything else you were keeping from us before,” Zoey observed. “We’re always on your side, Rumi.”
“It is worse,” Rumi sobbed. “Or at least as bad.” She covered her face with her hands. Her heart slammed in her chest. She had hoped to be able to end her life without her dearest friends knowing what she had been feeling and thinking about them. She didn’t want to see the looks on their faces when she gave them the explanation Mira had demanded. But they weren’t giving her a choice. So she forced the words out: “I…I want both of you. So badly. I’ve been having these dreams…and even when I’m awake, I can’t stop thinking about you…”
“You aren’t saying you want to eat us, are you?” Zoey asked, her eyebrows shooting up.
“I think she’s talking about sex,” said Mira slowly. “Rumi? Am I wrong?” she asked, her voice still softer than Rumi was used to hearing from her.
“You’re right,” Rumi whispered, pressing the heels of her hands into her eyes. She felt filthy all over, like even if she showered, there wasn’t enough water in Seoul—in all of Korea—to wash her clean. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”
“Oh, Rumi…” Zoey murmured, sitting close to Rumi and trying to take one of Rumi’s hands; Rumi shied away again. “That’s okay,” she soothed. “So you have crushes on us. That’s not bad!”
“If you have sexual feelings, that’s common,” Mira added. “Maybe demons feel desire, but I promise, a lot of humans do too. Most humans, in fact. You wanting sex with us isn’t a demon thing.”
“But it feels so selfish,” Rumi argued. “Last night, when I was trying to sleep, I started thinking about…about you and…I wasn’t even touching myself, but…” Rumi dissolved into tears again, choking on her shame, feeling her throat grow thick as her demonic heritage made itself known, further impairing her voice.
Zoey pulled Rumi into her lap; Rumi struggled, but she was too distraught to put up much of a fight. There was a loud clunk as Mira let the sword fall to the floor; Mira climbed onto the bed and sat close to Rumi and Zoey, wrapping her arms tightly around them both. For Rumi, the warmth and closeness and the knowledge that her friends were trying to comfort her finally began to sink in. Her tears slowed, but didn’t stop.
“Did you come while thinking about us?” Mira asked, her voice almost a whisper.
Rumi nodded, her stomach churning again. “I’ve never felt anything like this before,” she mumbled. “It scares me. Jinu…he told me all demons do is feel pain and shame and other horrible things, so I thought…”
“If you’ve never felt sexual attraction before, you might be demisexual,” said Zoey.
“What does that mean?” said Rumi and Mira together.
“Demisexual people only experience sexual attraction if they feel really emotionally close to someone,” Zoey explained. “We went through a pretty intense bonding experience recently. That might be the emotional connection you needed to catch sexual feelings, Rumi.” Zoey rested her chin atop Rumi’s head. “It’s pretty rare, but not unheard of, and there are probably a lot of demi people who don’t know the word, so there are probably more demi people out there than we think.”
Rumi sniffled, turning over Zoey’s words in her head. “Maybe,” she said in a small voice. “But I have to wonder…I told you both that my father was a demon, right?”
“Yeah,” said Mira and Zoey; Rumi had explained her ancestry the night of the Idol Awards after the defeat of Gwi-Ma and the creation of the new honmoon, after they had returned home, victorious but shaken. Zoey and Mira had embraced Rumi and sworn to accept her as she was, patterns and all.
“That’s all Celine would tell me,” Rumi continued, her voice weak and shaky and still echoing oddly with additional layers. “So I had to wonder…I’ve wondered for years…if maybe…” Rumi gulped. “If I’m a child of rape. And maybe…maybe my father passed that to me, and I’m scared, I’m so scared that anyone I have feelings like that for, I’m going to hurt them…” A fresh wave of sobs overwhelmed Rumi at the thought of committing such violence against Mira and Zoey. “Please, I don’t want to hurt you!” she cried. “Mira, please, if you can’t do it, give me my sword so I can do it myself…”
Realizing what was about to happen, both Mira and Zoey tightened their grips on Rumi before she could break away from them and reach her fallen sword. Rumi struggled against Mira and Zoey, but their hold on her might as well have been steel. “Rumi! Rumi, listen to me,” Mira commanded, her sharp voice cutting through the dissonant harmonies of Rumi’s anguished wail. “Your heritage does not define you. I may be descended from humans, but believe me, I know.”
“I really don’t think you can inherit being…what you’re worried about,” Zoey insisted, locking her arms around Rumi’s waist. “It’s okay, Rumi. Please, stop fighting us. It’s okay.”
“Then why can’t I sing?” Rumi bawled. “I can’t sing a note. It’s my shame. My shame about these feelings.”
“Because you were hiding them,” Mira insisted. “You feel ashamed because you’re scared at how it feels to have sexual feelings for the first time, and you’ve been scared for years about what having feelings like that could mean. The shame is from the secrecy, Rumi. It’s not shameful that you want to sleep with me and Zoey.”
Self-hatred is a dirty fuel, burning hot and fast, and not as strong as love; Rumi slowly went limp, unable to fight against Mira’s and Zoey’s protective embrace anymore. “You really think so?” she whispered, and her voice was weak, but fully human.
“You don’t want to hurt us,” Zoey soothed. “I think Mira’s right. You’re really, really scared, and the shame of hiding your sexual attraction is what’s hurting your voice. But there’s nothing shameful about what you’re feeling.”
With agonizing slowness, Mira unwrapped one arm from their embrace to lightly brush the back of one hand against Rumi’s cheek. “It’s not like your feelings are unrequited, either,” she said softly. “At least, not for me.”
Rumi blinked, her eyes focusing on Mira. “W-what?”’
The corners of Mira’s mouth turned up slightly. “Rumi…I’ve loved you for ages,” Mira murmured. She shook her head. “I love Zoey too. Both of you. I was afraid to say anything. I didn’t want to risk losing…my family.”
“Oh, thank g-d…you too, Mira?” Zoey burst out. “I’ve been in love with both of you for forever now.”
Rumi looked from Mira to Zoey and back again, gobsmacked. “Really?” Her voice was barely audible.
“Really,” said Mira and Zoey together. The two of them exchanged a glance that was almost shy but full of tenderness, then turned their attention back to Rumi, each of them taking one of Rumi’s hands. Mira brought Rumi’s fingertips up to her lips and kissed them; Zoey pressed a kiss to Rumi’s knuckles.
A few feet away, Rumi’s sword dematerialized. Rumi began to cry again, more softly and in a single frequency. “You both love me? I’m not dreaming, am I?” she whispered.
“You’re not dreaming,” Mira assured her.
Zoey spoke at the same time, saying, “This is real.” She and Mira both held Rumi closer. Rumi took a deep, shuddering breath, nestling her face against Zoey’s shoulder. “How can we help you feel better?” Zoey asked. “I mean, I have some ideas—at least twenty-nine of them—but maybe you should tell us what you need.”
Rumi swallowed hard, her eyes closing. As desperately as she wanted to believe the idea that her lust for the other Hunters was something that wasn’t shameful or dangerous, doubts lingered.
Maybe there was a way she could try to assuage those doubts.
“Please…” Rumi forced down another swallow. Her throat was dry, although it was starting to feel less constricted. “Can I kiss you?”
“Me? Or both of us?” Zoey asked, sounding more than a little surprised.
“Both of you,” Rumi clarified. “Either one of you, and then the other one of you, I mean.” She opened her eyes, risking looking at her bandmates’ faces. Zoey was smiling shyly; there was a touch of worry in Mira’s eyes, but a small smile on her lips. “I…um…” Rumi took a deep breath, steadying herself. “I’m probably a terrible kisser.”
“Wait, have you never kissed anyone?” Mira questioned, her eyebrows lifting slightly.
“I never really wanted to until now,” Rumi mumbled.
“Yeah, I definitely think you’re demi,” said Zoey. “But now we have to decide who should be Rumi’s first kiss.” She eyed Mira. “Mira? You want to? I’m nervous I would ruin it for Rumi.”
“What? Me?” Mira’s eyebrows climbed higher. “You’re the one who knew what ‘demisexual’ meant. And you’re the one who asked Rumi what she needs. It should be you.”
“I just want to kiss both of you,” Rumi sighed.
“I have an idea,” said Mira. “Rumi, Zoey and I can whisper in your ear when we first wanted to kiss you. Whoever has wanted to kiss you for longer gets to be your first kiss. Fair?”
Rumi nodded, still scarcely able to believe her ears. Mira leaned close, brushed one hand down Rumi’s face, and said softly, “It was last year’s Idol Awards. We had just won and you told me how much you thought my choreo had to do with our win. You gave me this big smile and I wanted to kiss you right there. I think I might have wanted to kiss you before that, but that night I was barely able to stop myself from grabbing you and kissing the hell out of you.” Mira punctuated the sentence with a light kiss on Rumi’s temple and leaned back.
Zoey shifted position so she could lean down and whisper in Rumi’s ear while still cradling her. She stroked Rumi’s hair as she spoke. “It was backstage before the first show of our world tour like two years ago. We were eating our pre-show ramyeon and you asked how mine tasted because you were curious about hamburger flavor. I almost offered to kiss you so you could find out that way. I was kind of joking, but then I realized I wanted to kiss you for real.” She dropped a gentle kiss on Rumi’s forehead as she sat up again.
Rumi struggled to form words. “I love you both,” she quavered. “Zoey has wanted to kiss me for longer.” She managed to sit up, looking hopefully at Zoey’s eyes, then letting her gaze travel down to her lips.
“Oh my gosh. Okay,” Zoey breathed. “Can I kiss you now, Rumi?”
“Please,” Rumi begged.
And then Zoey’s lips were on hers, wonderfully, impossibly soft, and warm, and sweet. Rumi’s eyes drifted shut as Zoey’s lips met hers again and again, alternating quick little pecks with longer, deeper kisses. It took Rumi a few moments to adjust to the rhythm of Zoey’s kisses, but she managed, copying pressure and tempo. Rumi felt her heart begin to race again, but for a very different reason this time, and she whimpered as she felt an ache rise at the notch of her.
Zoey immediately stopped kissing her. “Are you okay?” she asked anxiously.
Rumi forced herself to take a deep breath. “Kissing you is…exciting,” she said.
“It is for me too,” said Zoey with a smile. She kissed Rumi’s forehead.
Rumi turned her gaze toward her other bandmate, who was still smiling, and there was only a hint of concern still in her eyes. “Mira, can I kiss you?” Rumi asked softly.
“Of course,” Mira murmured. She cupped Rumi’s cheek in one hand, then leaned down to press her lips to Rumi’s. Her kisses were slower than Zoey’s, and steadier; where Zoey’s were like the color and texture of a percussion part, Mira’s were the foundation. Her lips were just as soft and warm as Zoey’s, but the kisses were uniquely hers, more soothing than exciting, but equally addictive.
Even as Mira’s tender lips met hers again and again, Rumi could hardly believe that she had gone from fearing there was something inhuman about her desire for her bandmates to kissing them.
That thought gave her a sharp, painful twinge in her chest, and she gasped aloud. Mira instantaneously leaned back from their kisses to ask, “Did I hurt you?”
“No,” Rumi panted. “I just…I think I’m having trouble…really accepting that you both are okay with me wanting you. That…there’s nothing wrong with me wanting you.”
Mira brushed the ball of her thumb over Rumi’s left cheekbone, and Rumi felt her eyelids flutter. “Is there anything else we can do to help?” Mira asked.
“I…I don’t know.” Rumi closed her eyes. “I think I need to feel close to you and know that it’s okay…but I’m not sure how…um…” she trailed off.
“Can we try one of my twenty-nine ideas?” Zoey queried.
“Okay,” said Rumi throatily. When Zoey had that many ideas for something, usually several of them were off-the-wall and unrealistic, but at least one could be effective. And Rumi was willing to try anything.
“What if we cuddled with you?” Zoey suggested. “I know we already cuddle sometimes, but maybe this time we can undress—not all the way, but maybe just down to undies—and do skin-on-skin. Skin-on-skin cuddles are really nice.”
“They are,” Mira agreed. “Rumi? What do you think?”
“I’m willing to try it,” Rumi mumbled. Zoey and Mira helped her to her feet, then began stripping off layers of clothing. Rumi’s hands shook as she did the same. That day, she had chosen to wear jeans and a crop top, but the crop top had a turtleneck and she also wore a hoodie over it. She had wanted to see as few of her patterns as possible. She got the jeans and hoodie off, but her hands stilled at the hem of the crop top.
Mira noticed her hesitation. “You don’t have to take off anything you don’t want to,” she soothed.
Rumi inhaled deeply, closed her eyes, and tugged the crop top off over her head, leaving herself standing in just a sports bra and panties. She felt exposed—she had spent so many years wearing turtlenecks to hide her burgeoning patterns—but Mira’s comment had made her feel safe. Rumi climbed into bed, followed shortly by Mira and Zoey. She risked looking at her bandmates; both of them were almost completely bare, wearing only sports bras and panties—plain, comfortable choices that had been suited to the rehearsal they were currently skipping—but Rumi still felt her knees go weak looking at their beautifully shaped forms. They were both lean and strong, with subtle but perfect curves, and Rumi felt the ache inside her grow stronger.
She dropped her gaze, cheeks burning, and Mira and Zoey both nestled close to her, Zoey facing her and cradling Rumi’s head against her chest, Mira fitting herself against Rumi’s back like a shell. A long breath escaped from Rumi’s lips as she took in the sensation of so much of Zoey’s and Mira’s tender skin pressed against her nearly bare body. Rumi felt utterly surrounded by warmth, and softness, and care, and she blinked rapidly as tears came to her eyes again.
“Rumi?” Zoey kissed her forehead. “You okay?”
“You both feel so good.” Rumi’s voice was a low moan. She had never heard that sound emerge from her mouth before. She felt Zoey leave kisses on her hair, and one of Mira’s hands lightly stroke her hip. Rumi let out a sigh. “Can I kiss you more?” she mumbled. “Both of you?”
“Of course!” said Zoey brightly.
At the same time, Mira said, “Want to take turns kissing us?”
“Yes. Please,” Rumi whispered. She moved to lie on her back, turning her head to one side, facing Zoey, who captured Rumi’s lips in a soft kiss. Rumi kissed her back, more easily following the cadence of Zoey’s kisses this time, following each light, quick kiss with a firmer, longer one. The kisses came to a natural end, and Rumi turned to her other side to receive more kisses from Mira that were steady and comforting yet burning with a low intensity. Rumi felt one of Mira’s hands rest on her cheek, running her thumb over Rumi’s cheekbone, and then Mira’s teeth closed over her lower lip with agonizing slowness. Rumi made a tiny noise of pleasure against Mira’s lips.
“This okay?” Mira murmured.
“Yeah,” Rumi sighed. She felt Mira take her lower lip between her teeth again, and she was almost disappointed when that gentle pressure let up. The next time Mira took Rumi’s lip between her teeth, though, she applied just the lightest bit of suction, and the sensation shot directly to Rumi’s core. Rumi whimpered, her hips rocking forward reflexively.
Mira slowly leaned back. “How was that?” she asked.
“Really nice,” Rumi breathed. She caressed Mira’s cheek with a shaking hand, then turned back to Zoey. Zoey eagerly pressed her lips to Rumi’s again, and Rumi lost herself in Zoey’s sweet kisses for another long moment. Zoey kissed Rumi’s nose, then lay back on the pillow, blushing and smiling. Rumi turned back to Mira to receive more slow, loving kisses from her.
Rumi let herself savor the way she got caught up in the delicious loop of kissing Zoey and then Mira, Zoey and then Mira, until finally, Rumi heard herself say, “Can I have more?”
“What do you want?” murmured Zoey, her lips moving against Rumi’s.
“Mmm,” replied Rumi, turning that question over in her head.
Mira kissed Rumi’s shoulder. “Do you have any fantasies?” she cooed.
“I do…” Rumi trailed off. “I’m…I’m not sure I’m ready for sex, though.” She craved Zoey’s and Mira’s touch, and she ached to make love to them, but the kisses alone were intense enough that she wasn’t sure she could handle sex yet.
“Okay…anything that isn’t sex but that you’ve been thinking about doing with us?” queried Zoey.
Rumi gulped, still timid when it came to voicing her specific desires. “Uh…”
Mira trailed a gentle stream of kisses down Rumi’s neck. “How about this: is there anything you see me or Zoey do that turns you on?”
“When you dance,” Rumi whispered, the words falling from her lips almost of their own volition. “I love watching your hips when you dance. And Zoey…when you rap, I think…I think about what else you could do with your tongue.” She flinched slightly at the explicit nature of her own words. “And sometimes when you two are hugging or holding hands, I wish I could watch you kiss. And…do more than kiss.”
“Oooh, can I kiss you with tongue?” Zoey asked enthusiastically.
“When you’re done kissing Zoey, I’d love to dance a grind with you,” Mira murmured. “And after that…Zoey, if you want to kiss me…”
“I’d love to!” Zoey blurted out with a wide smile.
“Yes,” Rumi gasped out. “Yes, I want all of those things.” She kissed Zoey hungrily, and this time she felt the very tip of Zoey’s tiny, slick tongue touch hers. Rumi trembled, letting her lips part to invite Zoey in, and she moaned as she felt Zoey’s tongue glide slowly over hers. She felt the throb of desire between her legs grow stronger. She wrapped her arms tightly around Zoey, who embraced Rumi, cradling the back of Rumi’s head in one hand.
Rumi lost track of how long she spent sharing deep, passionate kisses with Zoey, letting their tongues caress each other, but then she had to pull away and whisper, “I need to stop.”
Zoey dropped a quick kiss on Rumi’s cheek. “Okay. Was it too much?”
Rumi shook her head no, then lay down on her back. “I’m just…not used to this. It felt really good, though.”
She felt Mira’s lips on her forehead. “Let me know when you’re ready to dance with me,” Mira cooed.
Rumi took several deep breaths. Once her heart rate had slowed to merely faster than usual, she whispered, “I’m ready.” Mira kissed her cheek and got up, beckoning to Rumi, who stood beside the bed.
“You’ve probably never done a grind before, right?” Mira asked, cupping Rumi’s chin in her hand.
“No,” Rumi muttered. “I hope I’m not terrible at it.”
Mira pecked her a kiss. “I’ll show you.” She turned around, standing with her back to Rumi. “Stand right behind me. If you want, you can put your hands on my hips.”
Rumi’s breath hitched, but she did as she was told, stepping closer to Mira and resting her trembling hands on Mira’s hips. Her face was nearly resting against the back of Mira’s neck, and she felt as though she was immersed in the heady scent of Mira’s perfume.
“I’m gonna bend to you now,” said Mira, her voice warm and low. “When I start dancing, just try to move with me. Okay?”
“Okay,” Rumi rasped.
Mira bent her knees slightly, dropping her center of gravity. Then she leaned forward, her spine gently arched, the curve of her backside just barely touching Rumi’s hips. She began to dance, moving her hips in a slow, mesmerizing, seductive motion.
Rumi thought for a moment that she might pass out, but she wanted very much to stay conscious and enjoy the moment. Without thinking, her grip tightened on Mira’s hipbones, and she moved forward a centimeter or so, pressing her hips against Mira’s ass. Her own body began to move, her hips working in time with Mira’s. “Ohh,” she breathed. “Mira…”
“You like this?” Mira crooned.
“Yes,” Rumi whimpered. As she gazed hungrily at Mira, she found herself imagining what it would look like to do this with Mira if both of them were fully undressed. How similar or different Mira’s movements would be if Rumi were wearing a strap-on. The sounds Mira might make as Rumi took her… “I feel dirty,” Rumi whined, closing her eyes but unable to let go of Mira or move away.
Mira covered Rumi’s hands with hers. “There’s no shame in this, Rumi,” she soothed. “Tell me what you’re thinking about.”
“You…” Rumi breathed. “You riding my strap-on…” Instinctively, she was about to apologize, but Mira cut her off.
“Sounds amazing…we’ll have to try it sometime.” She squeezed Rumi’s hands. “Relax and dance with me. You can think about anything you want while we dance.”
So Rumi did. Mira had always had impeccable rhythm, and this sort of dance was no exception; it was easy for Rumi to match her hypnotic movements. The intimacy of their physical closeness felt incredible, but so did the fact that it was so natural for them to move in synchrony.
“I think I need to stop,” Rumi said eventually.
Mira turned around, pulling Rumi into her arms and kissing her. “You did great,” she said. “And you were worried about being terrible at it.”
“That was really, really hot,” Zoey sighed.
“It was.” Rumi’s voice was tremulous.
“You ready to watch me and Zoey?” Mira queried, and Rumi nodded emphatically.
Mira pecked Rumi a kiss and helped her back onto the bed; Rumi was trembling so hard she was having a little trouble maneuvering. Rumi lay on her back, watching as Mira cupped Zoey’s face in her hands and murmured, “Can I kiss you?”
“Please,” Zoey begged.
Mira kissed Zoey hard. Mira and Zoey embraced, holding and caressing each other as they shared fierce but sweet kisses. Rumi couldn’t help but notice how much more passionate, almost rough, they were with each other than they had been with her; they must have been more careful and gentle with Rumi because of her inexperience. She thought she could watch Mira and Zoey kiss, their lips meeting again and again and their tongues tangling with each other, for hours.
“You’re a good kisser,” Zoey mumbled against Mira’s lips.
“So are you,” Mira replied softly. She moved one of her hands to the hem of Zoey’s bra, murmuring, “Would you be okay with a little breast play?”
“Oh, yeah,” Zoey sighed. “Please.”
Mira kissed Zoey again, and Rumi watched hungrily as Mira slowly slid a hand beneath Zoey’s bra, and Zoey moaned.
“That feel good?” Mira cooed.
“Yeah,” Zoey breathed. “Can I touch yours too?”
Mira pecked Zoey a quick kiss. “I’d love that.”
Rumi felt her heartbeat quicken as she watched Zoey reach beneath Mira’s bra, and Mira made a little noise of pleasure against Zoey’s mouth. “You two are so beautiful together,” Rumi whimpered.
“Now you know how I felt watching you dance with Mira,” said Zoey in between sharing kisses with Mira.
“And how I felt watching you make out with Zoey,” added Mira before re-dedicating herself to kissing Zoey ardently and massaging her breasts. Zoey gave a soft cry, appearing to copy Mira’s gestures, cupping and kneading Mira’s breasts, returning her kisses enthusiastically.
Rumi’s hips flexed upward, the sight of Mira and Zoey so intensely arousing that she couldn’t stop her body from moving, and she made a whining noise. Mira and Zoey stopped kissing and looked at her. “Rumi, would you want us to give you some privacy so you can masturbate?” Zoey asked.
“Hang on,” said Mira. “Rumi, I’m glad—I’m really glad—you’re enjoying this, but you basically tried to kill yourself less than half an hour ago. We have to know you’ll be safe if we leave you alone.”
“Oh,” said Zoey softly. “Yeah. We need to keep Rumi safe.”
Rumi, touched by the care Zoey and Mira were showing for her, felt tears come to her eyes yet again. “It’s okay; I don’t need to masturbate. I’d rather cuddle with you more,” she mumbled.
Mira and Zoey shared one more kiss and settled down on the bed beside Rumi, who nestled her head beneath Mira’s chin, and she felt Zoey curl up behind her and leave kisses on the nape of her neck. “This is so nice,” Rumi sighed, and she meant it; as arousing as it was to be pressed up against Mira’s and Zoey’s bare skin, the heat and softness of their bodies was also wonderfully comforting. “I could just lie here forever,” Rumi breathed. She felt Mira’s fingertips trip down her arm, and she trembled as she realized Mira was tracing one of her patterns.
Rumi’s stomach grumbled, loudly and emptily.
She groaned. “Ugh, not now!”
“How much have you eaten today?” Zoey asked.
“Nothing,” Rumi answered guiltily. Her stomach had been churning too much for her to eat breakfast after she had lost her voice during her morning shower, and she had skipped lunch as well.
“Well, you need food,” said Mira matter-of-factly. “I’ll order something for us. Seolleongtang, kkakdugi, and eomuk bokkeum. Sound good?”
Rumi felt a smile come to her face; those were the same dishes that Mira and Zoey ordered for her on the night she panicked over losing her voice and missed the first scheduled live performance of “Golden.” “Sounds really good,” Rumi murmured.
“Oooh, can we get oi kimchi too?” Zoey asked.
“Sure.” Mira leaned over to kiss Zoey’s cheek, then kissed Rumi’s forehead. “I’ll call in the order. Zoey, can you keep an eye on Rumi?”
Zoey hugged Rumi protectively. “Of course!”
Rumi watched Mira dress again and leave the room, pausing at the door to blow a kiss to her and Zoey. Then she nuzzled close to Zoey, resting her face against Zoey’s chest. Zoey kissed her hair and lightly ran her fingertips over the patterns on Rumi’s back. They didn’t speak, but they didn’t have to; their closeness said everything that needed to be expressed.
Mira peeked back into Rumi’s room. She had changed into her pajamas. “Food should be here in twenty minutes. You two might want to get dressed.”
“I never want to wear clothes around you two again,” Rumi mumbled. Zoey laughed; Mira smiled.
“I’m sure we’d both love that, but we should probably wear something to eat,” said Mira. “Spilling hot soup on bare skin would suck.”
“Okay, fine,” Zoey sighed. She kissed Rumi’s forehead and got up. “I’ll go get changed.”
“I’ll stay with Rumi,” said Mira. Zoey paused in the doorway to give Mira a quick kiss. Rumi dug through her wardrobe and withdrew a white tank top and a pair of pajama shorts patterned with orange tabby kittens and pink balls of yarn. She paused before changing, but then again, Mira had seen her completely naked in the bathhouse. She pulled off her bra and exchanged it for the tank top, then stepped into the shorts and pulled them up.
“You’re so damn beautiful,” said Mira wistfully.
Blushing, Rumi walked to Mira and kissed her. Mira embraced her and kissed her back, steady and sweet.
Mira’s phone chirped. “Dammit!” Mira snapped, pulling out her phone. “Food’s on its way,” she reported, looking at the screen. She kissed Rumi’s forehead, near her hairline, where Rumi knew there was an iridescent mark on her skin. “Come on.” Mira took Rumi’s hand and led her to the kitchen, where Mira and Zoey set the table while Rumi sat quietly, watching them and turning over the events of the last hour in her head. Mira and Zoey filled the silence, chatting about choreography and lyric ideas. The food arrived shortly, and Mira ran downstairs to receive the delivery; Zoey took the opportunity to share a few warm, gentle kisses with Rumi.
Five minutes later, the food was portioned out, and Rumi was stirring a spoon around in her seolleongtang. It was delicious, and comforting, but her stomach was rumbling with both hunger and anxiety now that she wasn’t lying in Mira’s and Zoey’s arms anymore.
Mira stroked Rumi’s cheek. “I’m sorry about the whole babysitting you thing,” she said, “but it’s important to me and Zoey that you’re safe.” She took a deep breath. “My parents were…strict. Controlling. Toxic. I externalized it…Minsuk—my brother—internalized it.”
Zoey and Rumi exchanged glances. Mira had referred to her brother before, but only rarely, and never by name.
Mira went on. “I thought he was just handling it better than me, until the day I had to literally talk him down from jumping off a bridge.” She closed her eyes. “He begged me not to tell our parents. And I got why. He didn’t have that many friends, but he had a few, so I made sure one of them was always with him when he wasn’t at home. And when he was home, I stayed on his ass and made sure he didn’t sneak kitchen knives or cleaning products or anything to his room. He was pissed at me, but he finally got on antidepressants—without our parents knowing, of course—a few months before I got kicked out. It’s better to have someone you love pissed at you and alive than for them to be dead.” She sighed. “So, Rumi…for at least a little while, I’d feel a lot better if me or Zoey or both of us stayed with you as much as possible.” Her voice suddenly sounded choked. “We don’t want to lose you.”
Rumi and Zoey immediately moved to embrace Mira; she wrapped her arms around both of them, kissing Rumi’s cheek, then Zoey’s. “I promise I won’t hurt myself,” Rumi vowed. “I want to be here. If only so I can kiss you both more.” They all chuckled softly, even Mira. “But I get it,” she continued. “We can work out a schedule. And…I’d really, really like it if you could both sleep in my bed. I want to sleep between you.”
“Oooh, I’d love that!” said Zoey.
“I would too,” Mira said.
Rumi took a trembling breath. “I…I love you both. So much.”
“We love you too,” said Zoey and Mira in concert.
Hearing those words made Rumi feel stronger. She leaned back from their embrace, closing her eyes. Since that morning, there had been a rough feeling in her throat, like her patterns were strangling her. Now…now, it was gone.
“Think the pitch…start the air…sing,” Rumi breathed, and she sat up ramrod straight, in perfect singer’s posture, and began to sing.
Rumi’s voice was hesitant at first, but then grew stronger as the words and melody came more easily to her. She sang a new verse, one full of fear that had been assuaged and relief that she was loved and felt love in return. By the time she reached the last lyric, her voice was full and strong, completely restored. She let out a gasp of relief. “My voice is back!” she cried out. Mira and Zoey pulled her into another hug.
“Did you just come up with that? And you always say you can’t freestyle,” said Zoey. She kissed Rumi’s cheek.
“I did,” Rumi mumbled. “It needs work, though.”
“Who cares? It was beautiful,” said Mira, lightly tracing a pattern on Rumi’s cheek.
Rumi’s stomach growled again. “Ugh, my stomach needs to stop interrupting us!” Rumi grumbled.
“It will stop interrupting us if you actually eat,” Mira pointed out. She kissed the top of Rumi’s head and sat back down.
“Rumi, do you want some oi kimchi?” Zoey asked, sitting down and reaching for a container. “I don’t mind sharing.”
A small smile came to Rumi’s face. “Sure.” She paused. “So, um…are we a throuple now?”
“A triad,” Zoey corrected. “I would love to be in a triad with you two!”
“Same,” said Mira emphatically.
Rumi felt her smile widen. “I’d love that too.” Her grin seemed stuck on her face, even as she dug into her soup, finally feeling able to eat.
“Now, Rumi, we may be officially together, and we know you have sexual feelings for us, but, like…no pressure, okay?” said Zoey.
“We’re happy to go at whatever pace you need,” Mira added.
Rumi felt herself blush, but her smile stayed in place.
Zoey giggled. “Rumi, your demon smile is so cute!”
Rumi’s eyebrows shot up. “Demon smile?” she repeated.
“You’re smiling way wider than any human should be able to,” observed Mira. “And it is cute.” She reached over and squeezed Rumi’s hand.
Rumi took a tremulous breath. “You…really accept me.”
“Well, yeah,” said both Mira and Zoey, like it was obvious.
“Watch Zoey try to use your patterns as a night light to write lyrics,” said Mira. Zoey elbowed Mira’s shoulder, giggling.
“Mira’s probably going to wake you up to use your night vision to help her walk to the bathroom at night,” Zoey countered.
“Like you wouldn’t also do that!” said Mira, laughing.
Rumi couldn’t help but laugh as well. Everything was different now, but she had Mira and Zoey, and Mira and Zoey had each other, and they had her.
Still smiling, Rumi returned her attention to her dinner, humming the melody she had just invented to herself, mentally repeating the lyrics:
I was afraid and I couldn’t sing a single note.
I was ashamed, I had given up all hope.
My heart was chained, but then the chains all broke.
You made me feel saved when you kissed me, held me close.