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When Zoey wakes up in the morning of her, Rumi and Mira’s six-month anniversary, she wakes up alone.
Immediately, she hates it. She rarely wakes up alone these days, with at least one of her girlfriends keeping her company despite her tendency to oversleep. But today, she wakes in a cold, empty, sad little bed.
There’s one small, little hope that Zoey clutches onto as she stumbles out of bed – maybe they’re preparing breakfast. It’s a Saturday, and they usually eat leftovers or order in for breakfast, but maybe they’re feeling extra kind because of the occasion.
She shuffles out of the room - Rumi’s room, the one they usually crash in - and down the hall, ears pricking for the sound of pots and pans clanging together. It’s completely silent, and Zoey feels a bit let down. She doesn’t want to be presumptuous, doesn’t think she deserves a freshly-cooked breakfast, but at least it would explain the absence of her girlfriends on their special day.
Instead of someone cooking, Zoey ffinds Mira sitting on the couch and reading a book, back turned to her. Zoey pouts. She’s allowed to be at least a little upset that she woke up cold and lonely and girlfriendless for no reason on the morning of her anniversary, right? It seems entirely fair to her.
She throws herself over the back of the couch, wrapping her arms around Mira’s shoulder and making a point to whine as loudly as possible.
Mira sighs in Zoey’s embrace, an exasperation she shouldn’t be feeling at only ten in the morning. Oh well — Zoey’s good at pulling that out of others. “What’s wrong, Zo?”
“I woke up alone,” Zoey stomps her feet for added effect. “On our six-month anniversary, I woke up alone. The only beautiful babe there was me, and that’s not right!” Mira stiffens under Zoey’s embrace. A vague sense of betrayal begins crawling up Zoey’s throat. “… You forgot.”
“No!” Mira immediately exclaims. She pulls out of Zoey’s arms, pulling out her phone as she jumps to her feet. She looks at her lockscreen, huffs, and crosses her arms. “Asshole. You had me genuinely worried.”
Zoey furrows her brows. “What do you mean? It’s our anniversary.”
Mira furrows her brows in return. “It’s August.”
“Yeah,” Zoey agrees, “six months.”
Mira rolls her eyes. “Our six-month anniversary is in September.”
Zoey stops. Thinks about it really carefully. Did she somehow get the math wrong? February 14th. Six months later would be August 14th — today. She’s not an idiot; she got straight A’s in high school, despite what her bullies said.
“Are you gaslighting me? You can’t gaslight me on our anniversary!” Zoey jabs a finger at Mira.
“You can’t keep accusing me of gaslighting you just because you’re losing an argument!” Mira rolls her eyes.
“But it’s funny,” Zoey retorts, “and also true this time!”
Mira puts her head in her hands and takes in a long, deep breath. Calmly, she says, “Our six-month anniversary is on September 3rd.”
Zoey scoffs. “What? No it’s not. That’s a stupid date.”
For a moment, Mira looks like she’s trying to explode Zoey with her mind.
“I’m serious, Miraaaa,” Zoey whines, “it’s today. I swear on my life.”
“Doesn’t mean much,” Mira jokes.
“I swear on your life.”
“Why am I the victim now?”
“I swear on Derpy’s life,” Zoey settles on. Mira pauses to think for a moment, before giving a sage nod.
“Fine, Zo. Today’s our anniversary. I’m sorry I got it wrong,” Mira acquiesces — and Zoey knows how much Mira hates being wrong, so her heart does roughly seven million cartwheels and she beams, climbing over the couch to wrap her beautiful wonderful girlfriend in a tight hug.
The elevator dings with a well-timed chime and the doors slide open to the very welcome view of Rumi in a sports bra and shorts, just returning from working out. If Zoey salivates a little, that’s not her fault.
Rumi steps out of the elevator, looks at them, and stops. She blinks. Shifts on her feet awkwardly for a moment. “... Is everything okay?”
“Perfect!” Zoey smiles, and Rumi’s lips twitch up into the cutest smile possibly ever. Zoey grabs Mira’s hands and drags her closer to their girlfriend, skipping all the way. “Rumiiii~! Do you have anything to say?”
Rumi blinks. She looks around the room carefully, like there’s going to be a teleprompter somewhere telling her what to say. She looks at the window, then at the two of them, and her eyes light up. “Good morning,” she says, so softly Zoey almost falls to her knees screaming and crying.
“Good morning,” Zoey returns, leaning forward to press a quick kiss to Rumi’s cheek. Rumi’s face flushes the same way it always has since they were teenagers, and Zoey grins. “But! Not what I was going for.”
Rumi’s brows furrow. Slowly, cautiously, she asks, “Is this for some TikTok or something?”
“No, but that would be funny,” Zoey says with a smile, but her heart kind of feels like it’s slowly deflating in her chest. “Do you know what day it is?”
“Saturday,” Rumi instantly replies. Her eyes grow wide with panic. “Did we have plans that I forgot about? I’m so sorry, Zoey, I didn’t–”
“No, Rumi, not that,” Zoey laughs, but it comes out sounding hollow. “It’s… you know. A pretty important day.”
Rumi smiles, but it’s one of those smiles. Category two: the kind that stretches a bit too wide, shows a bit too much teeth — the kind that means she has no idea what’s going on but is desperately trying to pretend like nothing’s wrong.
(There are three categories of Rumi Smiles; Zoey has each and every one of them memorized, marked down in a notebook that’s been steadily filling up ever since her patterns were revealed.
First, there’s Rumi’s stage smiles: the faces she schools her features into whenever she’s performing, whenever they’re singing and dancing on stage or interacting with fans. Expressions Zoey’s seen her practice in mirrors until she mastered them, alluring smirks and the slightest upward tick of her lips that made Zoey’s head spin.
Then, there are the… smiles. Zoey doesn’t really know how else to describe them. The ones that kind of make Rumi seem like an alien poorly trying to imitate a human. It’s honestly kind of baffling, how Rumi can practice such enticing expressions and pull them off on stage, but she can’t master smiling like a normal human being.
(“… Why do you look like that?”
“Mira, oh my god!” Zoey hisses, because this is their first time meeting the Ryu Rumi, the final member of their trio and daughter of Miyoung of the Sunlight Sisters. “You can't just ask someone that.”
“Yeah, but,” Mira gestures vaguely to Rumi, and Zoey looks at her. She can’t help but agree. She doesn’t think she’s ever seen anyone smile like this before. She wonders, briefly, if this is one of the so-called ‘demons’ that apparently exist, but then she figures that if demons are this bad at pretending to be human, they’d surely all be found and defeated by now.
Rumi hesitates, mouth still curved in that strange smile. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be — Mira! Apologize!” Zoey hisses, and Mira groans and rolls her eyes.
“I’m sorry,” she grits out through clenched teeth. Zoey nods, pleased. “But, like, she’s smiling like it hurts—”)
Don’t get Zoey wrong – Rumi’s strange, honestly slightly off-putting smiles are extremely endearing. Zoey loves them, despite how often she and Mira tease her for them. They’re cute; they make Zoey want to pinch her cheeks or kiss her forehead or squeeze her until she pops.
Finally, and best of all, there are the genuine smiles. The small ones that Rumi offers in the comfort of their home, seemingly unknowingly. The soft curve of her lips when she pushes Mira’s glasses back up the bridge of her nose, or the way she looks whenever Zoey’s rambling on about something and she just sits and listens.
Those ones are Zoey’s favourites.)
“… You forgot about our anniversary,” Zoey realizes, her heart dropping to her stomach. She doesn’t know why she’s so disappointed; it’s only their six-month anniversary, and not everyone keeps track of those things. It’s not like she forgot their one-year anniversary, and Zoey knows it’s unreasonable to be upset that both of them forgot, but her eyes still burn anyway.
Rumi blinks. Her smile falters. She pulls out her phone, looks at the date, and only seems to grow more confused. “Zoey,” she starts, looking almost concerned now, “it’s August.”
Zoey nods her head, lips pressed together. “August 14th,” she confirms. Six months since Valentine’s day. Six months since the three of them started dating.
Rumi only seems even more baffled by this. She looks to Mira like she’s searching for help, but Mira only shrugs. “Zoey,” Rumi repeats, slow, cautious, “we debuted in May.”
Zoey blinks once. Twice. Three times. “What?” She looks up at Rumi to see if she’s making some kind of weird joke, but Rumi’s staring right back at her like she fears Zoey’s lost her mind. Now Zoey looks at Mira, who only shrugs again. “I know that! I don’t mean HUNTR/X’s anniversary, I mean ours!”
“I told you,” Mira muttered under her breath, “it’s not for another few weeks.” She pulls out her own phone and opens it to the calendar, where September 3rd is marked with a little banner reading ‘ANNIVERSARY 💜🩷💚’.
“It’s in your calendar?” Zoey says, heart doing roughly a billion flips in her chest.
Mira’s cheeks grow a deep red as she quickly tucks her phone away. “That’s not the point!”
“What are you guys talking about?” Rumi cuts in. When Zoey looks back at her, she finds Rumi looking beyond confused, almost distressed.
“Our six-month anniversary,” Zoey states with a vague motion between the three of them. “It’s been six months since we started dating.”
“Almost six months,” Mira wrongly corrects.
“We’re dating?” Rumi asks.
Zoey’s brain stops working. Just, like, complete radio silence - which is new, she thinks, and incredibly unpleasant. She likes her loud, jumbled thoughts.
“Ha,” she croaks out, pulling her lips into a smile that feels more like a grimace, “weird joke, Rumi!”
But Rumi doesn’t look like she’s joking. No, Rumi looks entirely, 100% serious, and Zoey suddenly feels dread building up in her stomach.
“Rumi,” she says, heart dropping to her feet, through the floor. “Rumi,” she repeats. Rumi stares at her like Zoey just told her Gwi-Ma was coming back. “Rumi!”
Zoey looks at Mira once more, hoping she’ll offer more than a shrug this time. Mira is standing stock-still, eyes wide, mouth slightly agape. Zoey’s glad they’re on the same page.
“Rumi…” Zoey murmurs.
“Please stop saying my name,” Rumi says, sounding completely shell-shocked.
“But – but - Rumi!” Zoey exclaims, hands raising to the sides of her head. “Rumi, what – like – what?”
“How did you not know?” Mira asks.
Rumi sputters, cheeks flushing red with embarrassment. “I - you guys were acting how you always do!”
“I called you babygirl last night,” Zoey points out. Rumi only flusters further.
“Rumi,” Mira mutters, head in her hands, “what the hell did you think was going on when I kissed you last week?”
Zoey frowns. “You guys kissed without me?”
Rumi’s face flushes red. “I thought it was a friend kiss!”
“Oh my god. Oh my god. Oh my god,” Mira groans.
“Dude,” Zoey says - which is kind of an absurd thing to call her girlfriend, but apparently Rumi’s not her girlfriend, so who cares? - “you’ve just been acting like that without knowing we’re dating?”
“What does that mean?” Rumi defensively asks.
“It means we’ve been sharing one bed for months,” Zoey points out.
“That’s just for convenience, with all the nightmares.”
“I’m always sitting in your lap.”
“You’ve done that since before we debuted!” Rumi defends.
“You have,” Mira tiredly agrees, seemingly entirely against her will.
Zoey huffs out a sigh. “I called you my girlfriend.”
“American girls call their close friends ‘girlfriends’ all the time,” Rumi retorts.
“You told us you love us more than anything three days ago — after we went on a date!”
“That was a party for our upcoming album release,” Rumi says. “And I do love you. I say it all the time.”
Zoey feels kind of out of her element. There’s no way Rumi can be this dense, right? Or were Zoey and Mira just delusional and making things up?
“But you've been so much touchier…”
Rumi blushes darker. “I just like touching you guys…”
“Awww,” Zoey coos, her chest feeling all warm and fuzzy.
“Not awww,” Mira cuts in with a shake of her head. She points at Rumi, then at Zoey. “Not awww, Zoey.”
Zoey clears her throat, stands up a bit straighter. “Right. Not awww,” she agrees, but her heart is still singing. “Rumi. I spoonfed you so many times.”
“We have matching rings,” Mira points out, the amethyst and emerald ring glinting on her left hand.
“You came into my room and kissed me on the head while I was playing on my Switch.”
“You’re always wearing my clothes.”
“Have you seen the choreo for Comeback? It’s – I mean, c’mon.”
Mira shrugs. “Not the first choreo I’ve made like that.”
“This is all stuff we’ve been doing since we debuted!” Rumi exclaims, thoroughly flustered.
“Oh my god,” Zoey whispers, “have we been dating since we debuted?”
“Damn,” Mira mutters. “That puts a lot into perspective.”
“I’m even more confused,” Rumi mournfully says.
Zoey takes in a deep breath, trying to reach complete zen. She wills away all of her loud, jumbling thoughts that she’s not as fond of now as she was before. She fails miserably.
“Rumi,” Mira sets her hands on Rumi’s shoulders, and Zoey wonders how much restraint it’s taking to not shake her aggressively, “do you like Zoey and I?”
“Of course I do!” Rumi instantly responds, almost defensive.
Mira releases one of Rumi’s shoulders so she can pinch the bridge of her nose. “Rumi,” she slowly repeats, “are you in love with Zoey and I?”
Rumi’s eyes grow wide once more, as if they haven’t been talking about this the entire time. Her gaze flicks to meet Zoey’s, and Zoey bats her eyelashes in the most enticing way possible. “I – um. That’s…”
“All cards on the table, Ru,” Zoey starts, “I’m, like, desperately, completely head-over-heels in love with you. Like, when I see you my eyes turn into hearts and I start floating in the air towards you like a good-smelling pie.”
Rumi looks a mixture of embarrassed, pleased, and baffled. “... Is that a reference, or–”
“Doesn’t matter,” Mira cuts in before they can get off track – which is good, because Zoey knows she would’ve gone down an entire rabbit hole explaining American cartoons to Rumi, and Rumi, as always, would be a willing participant. “I’m also,” Mira’s eyes shift to the side, her cheeks tingeing pink, “like, in love with you both, or whatever. Like… a lot.”
“ But I–” Rumi eyes flick between Zoey and Mira, “I’m a demon.”
“We know,” Mira says.
“It’s hot,” Zoey says at the same time.
“I don’t think you’re taking this seriously enough,” Mira turns to Zoey, but the corner of her lip is ticked up just the slightest bit and her eyes are so warm and fond that Zoey’s breath stutters.
“I’m doing my best with what we’ve got,” Zoey motions to Rumi. She turns her attention back to the third girl. “Rumi. We know you’re a demon. We’ve known for, like, almost a year now, remember? Or did you forget the whole Namsan Tower-Saja Boys thing?”
“Can’t blame her,” Mira mutters.
“That doesn’t mean we love you any less,” Zoey continues, finding one of Rumi’s hands and clasping it between her own. “It doesn’t mean anything. You’re still our Rumi. Nothing’ll change that.”
Rumi blinks a few times in quick succession, and Zoey pretends she doesn’t see the glassy glaze over her eyes. She thinks Rumi’s already been dealing with enough emotions right now.
“Are you sure…?” she asks, so hesitant and nervous that Zoey thinks she might start biting anyone who’s ever hurt Rumi in her whole life - even if that includes Zoey herself.
“Ru,” Mira sighs, “we literally thought we’ve all been dating for almost six months. We’re sure.”
“Can’t help but notice you said almost,” Zoey says, and Mira rolls her eyes. “I thought we agreed that today is six months?”
“Apparently Rumi had no idea we were dating at all, so I think the date needs to be edited,” Mira says, which is definitely true. But if that’s true, doesn’t that mean today will still be an integral part of their anniversary? Their one-year anniversary? Still a good date.
Zoey blinks.
“Where did you even get September 3rd from?”
“You don’t need to say it like that,” Mira scoffs. She crosses her arms and averts her gaze as her cheeks flush a pretty pink. “March 3rd was the first day you called us your girlfriends. So I just figured… that’s when we became official.”
“Awww,” Zoey coos, reaching out to pinch Mira’s cheek. Mira slaps her hand away with a scowl. “That’s so cute, Mira. I’ve always known you’re just a big soft lovergirl deep down.”
“I’m not,” Mira stiffly states, pulling out her phone. “I’m deleting it from my calendar and never adding it back.”
“No, wait!” Zoey reaches for Mira’s phone, but Mira just holds it up above her head. Zoey curses her girlfriend for being a beautifully tall model. “You have to add today as our anniversary. ‘Cause we’re dating for real now, right?”
Mira and Zoey’s eyes fall on Rumi, who’s smiling fondly at the two of them (a category three smile!). She tenses under their sudden attention.
“You never did answer my question,” Mira points out. Her hand, still on Rumi’s shoulder, squeezes lightly. “There’s no pressure, Ru. If you don’t feel the same, that’s perfectly fine. If you do and you’re not ready yet, that’s okay too. Nothing has to change if you don’t want it to.”
Rumi’s throat bobs as she starts fiddling with Zoey’s hands, still encasing one of her own. “I do,” she quietly says. “Love you like that. And want it to change. A lot.”
Zoey grins, her heart doing a trillion backflips. She releases Rumi’s hand to wrap her in a big hug, absently searching for Mira with a hand before pulling her in as well. Zoey squeezes them as tight as she can, an attempt to convey all her love and joy and affection to the two people she loves most in the world.
“I’m totally talking about this at our wedding, by the way,” she says. Rumi makes some sort of squeaking sound, and Mira laughs, low and rough. Zoey’s happier than she ever has been before.