#boyfriend!reader

[daydreaminginmonochrome]

Promises

Tagged: Rumi/Reader, M!Reader, Childhood Friends, Friends to Lovers, Lots of Time Jumps (From Childhood to Adulthood), Falling in Love, Fluff, Angst, Fainting, Hospitalization, Ambiguous/Non-Specified Illness, Cuddling, Dancing

WC: 22,300

Once again I had absolutely zero self control writing this.

Had to force myself to stop otherwise this would have ended up the length of a damn novel. So many more scenes I was going to write, and even with all the scenes that got cut, it still ended up ridiculously long, RIP 😭

It was a quiet summer afternoon.

Birds were chirping in the trees above, and a gentle breeze helped to stave off the summer heat, leaving branches swaying and clothes rustling. The clouds drifted by above at a lazy pace.

You had come over to Rumi’s house as you always did, intent on taking advantage of the beautiful day by spending it playing with your best friend. The two of you had spent the morning playing tag and seeing who could climb higher in the trees.

The morning had gone by quickly as they played, ending with them sprawled out beside each other on the grass, your precious tiger plush, Mr. Beom, cradled on your chest as the two of you stared up at the clouds, creating your own shapes out of the fluffy formations.

An open bag of gummy rings sat between you two.

“Let’s get married when we’re grown up,” you said suddenly.

Rumi tilted her head to look at you, “Married?” It was a strange declaration to make out of the blue like that.

“Uh-huh,” You nodded, stretching your arms up, reaching as far to the sky as a six-year-old could. “It’s what people do when they find the person they like best. They get married, that way they get to be together forever!”

Moving your tiger plush to sit beside Rumi’s own teddy bear, you rolled onto your stomach so you could look at her better, and gave Rumi a wide smile that showed off the gap from the tooth you lost a few days ago. She thought it was cute how it made some of your words whistle. “I like you more than anyone in the whole world, so if marrying you means I can stay with you forever, then I want to marry you.”

Because both of you were kids and didn't know the deeper meaning and logistics of a marriage, your logic made complete sense to Rumi. She followed your lead, rolling from her back to her stomach to face you, nodding along.

“I like you best out of everyone, too,” she agreed.

You were her best friend, after all. You always came up with the best games to play, and you always knew how to make her day better and cheer her up when she was sad. It was no exaggeration that the highlight of her day was always seeing you.

How could Rumi not like you best out of everyone in the world?

If you and she were each other’s favorite person, and if marriage is what people did when they found their favorite person, then of course, Rumi wanted to marry you. She wanted you to always stay in her life.

Laughing in celebration, you pushed yourself up, moving to kneel in front of Rumi as you had seen people do countless times on TV during proposal scenes. You had to do this right; you were proposing to your best friend, after all.

Grabbing one of the gummy rings from the bag of candy, you offered it up to her. “I promise that from now and forever that you'll be my favorite person in the whole world—no, the whole universe! I promise that I’ll stay by your side, forever, no matter what comes,” you proclaimed both loudly and confidently. “Will you marry me?”

The answer was an immediate yes, and with your stuffed animals as witnesses, you slipped the piece of candy onto her finger.

It was silly. The ring was sticky on her finger. And yet Rumi couldn’t stop laughing as she tackled you into a hug, the two of you rolling and wrestling in the grass in your excitement for the ‘engagement’.

The two of you didn’t stop until Celine stepped out of the house to check on you both.

Rumi wasted no time running up to her mentor to show off the ring, proudly explaining to her how you and she were going to get married once you were both all grown up, and how the two of you had it all figured out. Rumi was gonna be a world-famous celebrity, and you were going to be the stay-at-home dad raising the kids and pet tigers you two were going to have at the mansion that Rumi’s celebrityhood would get you.

It seemed to amuse the older hunter greatly.

Hiding a smile and laugh behind her sleeve, Celine ushered the two ‘lovebirds’ into the house to wash up for lunch. The promise of food quickly drew their attention, and they snatched their toys and scampered past her into the house.

Rumi didn’t want to think of herself as a jealous person.

But even so, she couldn’t help that angry, vicious twist in her chest as she sat outside most days waiting for you to come back from school, the way something sour settled in her stomach whenever you’d talk about your classmates, and all the kids you'd play with during free periods at school.

Did you like playing with them more than you liked playing with her? You probably did. Probably liked your school friends more than her—you got to spend more time with them, after all. Got to play with them more, got to share more experiences with them, got to spend all day with them, and share lunch with them every day.

She didn't even really know your ‘school friends’; they could have been the nicest, sweetest kids Rumi had ever met, but all she knew was that she already hated them. Hated them because they took your attention and your affection.

No, no, don’t think like that, Rumi! She was your bestest friend, not them!

You said it yourself: you liked Rumi best of all. Liked her enough that you wanted to marry her! You lent her your tiger plush whenever Rumi mentioned she had bad dreams, and you didn’t let anyone touch Mr. Beom! So she was sure you didn’t do that with the other kids.

…Right?

Right!

You promised, after all, you promised that Rumi would always be your favorite person in the whole universe, and you weren’t a liar!

…So why didn’t the sour feelings go away?

Rumi was trying hard not to let it show, but she was pouting as she sat at the bench, watching you play with the other kids—your school friends—as you ran around your backyard.

You had invited her to come and join you and the other kids, had seemed so eager to introduce her. So why did it feel like she was the only one left out?

The reason was obvious. Rumi didn’t know anyone here, only you. You had introduced her when she came by, but the other kids had seemed far more interested in playing with each other than the weird purple-haired kid you had dragged over.

She watched you run around the yard, laughing loudly as the other kids scattered about in a game of tag—wanting to join, but feeling like she would be an intruder if she did.

Eventually, one of the other boys came wandering up. He was taller than both Rumi and you, and despite looking incredibly plain, he was wearing the smuggest grin Rumi had ever seen on another kid.

“So who even are you?” the boy asked her, though it sounded more like he was asking, ‘Why are you here?’ like she was an outsider who didn’t belong.

Still, Rumi put on a pretend smile and gestured to where you were still playing. “I’m Rumi, and he invited me to come.”

“He invited you? Weird.”

Her smile was gone in an instant at the boy's accusation. “What’s so weird about that?”

Bland-face just shrugged, as if his ‘observation’ was the most obvious thing in the world. “Cause he said he was only inviting his friends, but I’ve never seen you before during school, and I know all his friends.”

Right. School. The prison that took your best friend away from you for eight hours every day. She hated school.

“I’m homeschooled, that’s why, but we’re neighbors. We play together all the time.” If there was a hint of boasting in her voice—well, Rumi was entitled to brag a little. Especially with how mean this kid was being. “Why would you know all his friends, anyway?”

“'Cause I’m his best friend, duh,” bland-face declared proudly, jabbing his thumb at himself.

In an instant, that vicious feeling returned at the other boy's audacious claim. Before she could stop herself, Rumi was already bristling, jumping to her feet as she shouted right back at him.

“No, you’re not. I’m his best friend!”

Bland-face sneered, arms crossed over his chest as he looked her over with clear judgment in his gaze. “Yeah? Then why doesn’t he ever talk about you?” he taunted—and Rumi flinched at the demand. “You don’t even go to the same school as us; there’s no way you could be his real best friend.”

“Well—I—” he was right, though, she didn’t go to school with you. She only got to see you after school and on days when there are no classes. Bland-face got to see you more than she did each day.

No! She can’t back down! She was your best friend, and that was that! “We are best friends! He even said I’m his favorite person!”

“Favorite person? You’re lying.”

“Am not!”

“Are too!” the boy shouted back, glaring at her. “I bet he only plays with you cause he pities you!”

Angry tears were burning in the corners of her eyes, her heart was beating loudly in her chest, and jealousy and fury were mixed inside of her. “Take that back!” You weren’t like that! You really were her friend; you weren’t just playing with her because you pitied her! “We really are best friends!”

“No, you’re not!”

The plain-faced boy shoved her when he said this, knocking her down with the force of his push, and Rumi felt a growl rippling up from her chest, felt a burning on her skin, and—

“Rumi?!”

At the sound of your voice,  Rumi instantly snapped back into focus.

She was on top of the boy now, and he was thrashing and crying beneath her as her teeth dug deep into his arm. Pulling and pushing at her, desperate to get free. Rumi could taste the hint of copper on her tongue.

Save for his crying, the yard was quiet. All eyes were on her.

But the worst part? The worst part was that you were there, just a few feet away, staring at her with wide eyes, like you couldn’t believe what you were seeing, what Rumi was doing.

Oh. Oh no. What was she doing? What did she do?

Tears were falling freely now as she let the boy go, stumbling back to her feet. Why did she bite him?

“Rumi, are you—”

Before you could finish what you were saying, Rumi took off running. She needed to get out of here, needed to go back to the safety of home before she made things worse.

“Did you see that? What is she, a feral dog?”

“Were her eyes always yellow? I thought they were brown earlier.”

“Do you think Minjun’s gonna need to get rabies shots now?”

With the other kids' voices in her head, Rumi kept running, running faster and faster until she’d made it up the road to where her own secluded home was.

She ignored Celine as she darted around the woman, rushing up the stairs and tackling her bed.

Her small body was a shaking, trembling mess as she buried her face into her pillow. You were going to hate her after that; she just knew it. She’d bitten one of your friends. Your best friend. There’s no way you could want to stay friends with her after that.

Curled up under her blankets, hugging her teddy bear and pillows tight, Rumi closed her eyes and wallowed in the misery she felt.

It hadn’t even been an hour before there was a soft knock, and then her bedroom door quietly creaked open.

“Rumi?”

Your voice was quiet, small, hesitant in both your words and movement as you approached her. Rumi responded by burying herself deeper into her blankets.

“Rumi, are you okay?” you asked, taking another step towards her.

“Go away.”

She couldn’t see your expression, but she could hear the stubbornness in your voice. “I’m not going until you tell me what’s wrong. What happened back there? Are you okay?”

Was she okay? She wasn’t the one who got bitten by a demon! “Leave me alone,” she said again, more harshly this time. “You should go make sure your best friend is okay after getting bitten by the rabid weirdo.”

The bed dipped slightly at the edge as you sat down beside her. “What are you talking about?”

Rumi pulled the blankets tighter over herself. “That other boy. He’s your real best friend, isn’t he?”

“Do you mean Minjun? Was that what this was about—he was saying he’s my best friend?”

She didn’t say anything, but the silence was answer enough.

“We’re desk mates, and sometimes I share my snacks with him. But I wouldn’t call him my best friend,” your hand fell on the blanket lump that was Rumi. “Sides, why would I want another best friend when I already have you?”

“…Do you mean it?”

“Of course I do! I promise you’re my one and only best friend!”

Slowly, Rumi pushed the blankets off of herself so she could look at you, “I’m sorry for acting out. I—I don’t know. I just got so angry and I…”

You were smiling at her, warm as ever, as if Rumi had never done a single wrong thing in her life. “It’s fine! Knowing Minjun, he probably deserved to get bitten, and—" you cut yourself off, eyes going wide as you took in her appearance. "Rumi! Rumi, your eyes! Your arms!”

A sudden wave of dread surged through her when she saw you jump to your feet, throwing yourself to the other side of the room.

“My…” she touched her face and looked down at her arm. That dread turned into terror as she was met with the familiar dark vein-like patterns on her skin. They had grown. Spread. Peeking out past her sleeve now.

No. No, no, no. This couldn’t be happening. Why now? Why here?

A hand mirror was thrust into her face, and Rumi felt her stomach churn at the sight of golden eyes staring back at her in the reflection. Was this what that boy had seen when she bit him? What the other kids saw as she ran away?

Was this what you were seeing now? A monster sitting before you in your best friend's bed? A demon? A—

 

“You look like a tiger!”

 

She tore her gaze from the mirror to stare at you with wide eyes. “A…what?”

Grinning. You were still grinning. That wasn’t fear on your face; it was pure excitement over what you had seen. “You got tiger stripes, and your eye! It’s all yellow like a tiger's!” You lowered the hand mirror and dropped it onto the bed. “That’s so cool, Rumi!”

Cool.

No one’s ever called the patterns cool before.

“You…” her voice hitched a little. She wasn’t going to cry, she was not going to cry, not here in front of you, not over this. She wasn’t! “You’re not scared of them? You don’t think they’re ugly?”

“Why would I think that?” you asked in return, genuine confusion in your voice, as if the possibility that they could invoke anything negative just wasn’t a possibility in your mind. “My wife’s a tiger; that’s like, the coolest thing ever!”

Your wife?

Did that mean you still liked Rumi best, even after today?

She really was crying now as she threw herself onto you. “You’re a dummy!” she declared. A big fat dummy for still liking her after everything, for thinking she could still be something as amazing as a tiger to you. The biggest dummy ever.

She didn’t want you ever to change.

The two of you remained like that for a little while. You held Rumi until she ran out of energy, crying, letting her wipe her face dry with your sleeve. Rumi didn’t want you to ever let her go.

“So, why did you bite Minjun, anyway? You could have just hit him,” you asked suddenly when it seemed Rumi had calmed down. There was no malice or mockery in your voice, just pure, genuine curiosity. “Why go to biting right  away?”

Rumi flinched, looking away from you immediately. “Er…well…” she wasn’t really sure why she went right to biting, either.

The more frustrated she had gotten, the more worked up, the worse the ache in her jaws had grown, needing to dig into something. Biting had felt right. Simple as that. Even now, still feeling a little overwhelmed by everything, her teeth ached to bite.

Maybe it was a demon thing, but she was afraid to ask Celine.

You hummed, bringing your fist to cover your mouth as you thought it over. “It won’t be good if you keep biting other kids,” you said, and Rumi felt herself wilt in shame. She could already imagine the sort of reputation she’d garnered after today’s display with your classmates.

After a few moments, you seemed to come to some conclusion as you let out a quiet ‘Ah-hah!’ and slapped your fist down into your palm. “You should just bite me, instead.”

Rumi reeled back. “Bite you? What—?!”

“You should bite me!” Did you not understand what you were suggesting? But you were smiling so brightly at her, so certain in your decision. “Anytime you feel like you need to bite someone, you should just bite me instead. That way you won't get in trouble with other kids.”

Rumi shook her head, “I don’t want to!”

“Why not?” you asked back with a tilt to your head and an adorable pout. You almost seemed disappointed in her refusal.

“I don’t want to hurt you!”

You blinked, looking at her like she was the one who had said something strange. “You won’t hurt me,” you said, as if the very thought that Rumi could hurt you was impossible.

“It’s a bite! Of course it’s going to hurt you.”

“No, it won’t.”

“Yes, it will!”

You let out a sharp huff, your cheeks puffed out as you glared at her. “I’ll prove it!” you said, rolling up your sleeve and shoving your arm in her face. “Bite me!”

Maybe it was how badly her teeth ached to bite something again, maybe it was her own stubbornness refusing to back down, wanting to prove you wrong. But Rumi matched your glare as she snatched you by the wrist to hold your arm in place and bit down.

You flinched immediately at the contact, but didn’t pull away, biting your tongue to keep from letting out a sound. Rumi kept her jaws locked around your forearm, pressing harder with her teeth.

When she pulled back, she could see the indent of her teeth on your skin, the spot a deep red that would blossom into a bruise before long.

She knew she should hate it; if she’d bitten any harder, she would have certainly broken skin and left you bleeding rather than just bruised. But looking at the bite mark on your arm, Rumi felt a wave of pride, a rush of something possessive instead.

It was practically physical proof of whose best friend you were!

“See,” you said after letting out a low breath, still making no attempt to pull yourself free from Rumi’s hold. “That wasn’t so bad, was it? Didn’t hurt a bit!”

You were lying, Rumi could see it on your face.

But even so…

She looked away, glaring at her teddy bears, “It was…fine,” she conceded. More than fine. It had been soothing in a weird way. “…If you’re sure you’re okay with it. Then I’d be okay with it, too.”

Your smile was as bright as the sun. “Great! Then you got permission to bite me whenever!”

Eying the bruising bite mark on your arm, Rumi was sure that ‘whenever’ was going to become a frequent occurrence.

It hit Rumi when she was thirteen.

Celine had business to conduct in Seoul and, after Rumi badgered her, had taken you and Rumi both with her for the day. And so, while Celine was in boardroom conferences, you and Rumi had gone to the Seoul Grand Park Zoo in Gwacheon.

It had been a fun day. Any day spent with you was automatically a fun one in Rumi’s opinion, and getting to spend the entire day looking at animals, taking pictures, and videos? Even better.

Even now, late into the evening and back in her own bed, Rumi’s heart was still racing from the excitement of all they did. She smiled, cheeks warm, as she hugged the teddy bear you had bought her at the zoo’s gift shop. An adorable Asian black bear, with soft black fur and white on the chest.

She couldn’t stop looking at it while the two of you had stopped to get food while at the zoo, and you, of course, had noticed, and then insisted on buying it for her. She’d tried to assure you that you didn’t need to, but—she was happy you got it.

Today has been an amazing day.

Her smile grew softer as she thought back to you throughout the day. How excited you were at each exhibit, looking at each animal as if it were your first time ever seeing them, reading each placard, playing games with Rumi when they reached an exhibit where the animals were hiding to see who could find them first.

Burying her face in the bear plushie, Rumi muffled her laughter as she thought of how eagerly you grabbed her hand, pointing up to the trees of the bird enclosure when you spotted a hawk building a nest. And that adorable look you got on your face when you and Rumi reached the bear enclosure and got to see them playing.

Her favorite, of course, had been when the two of you had reached the tiger exhibit.

They were your favorite animal, after all; she was sure seeing Rostov and Penza had been the highlight of the trip for you.

The way your face had lit up when you saw the two tigers certainly had been Rumi's highlight.

“Did you know he gets his name because he was born in the Rostov zoo in Russia?” you had asked, staring through the glass wall that divided you from the tigers, your gaze on the aforementioned beast as the tiger wandered about. “His original name was Rostik. He and Penza were brought over here four years ago, and they’ve already had their first litter together. Isn’t that cool?”

She remembered that bit about their litter. You had been so excited to tell her the news that day, showing her photos of the three cubs. But even if you had already told her all this, she was happy to hear you gush about the tigers again, knowing how happy the animals made you.

As you continued to talk, Rumi found herself watching you rather than the tigers themselves. She liked the way you looked when you got like this. There was a sparkle in your eyes, your smile so wide, so brilliant it could burn. She wanted you to look like that, full of life and joy, forever.

You were excited, eagerly explaining how tiger stripes were their fingerprints, each pattern wholly unique, and how that was used to identify them, and how cool it was that conservationists could remember as many patterns as they did to identify a tiger on a dime. Not only were the stripes crucial for them to blend in with their surroundings when they hunted, but you thought they were majestic.

Subconsciously, Rumi reached around to grab her arm. Talks of patterns always tended to make her feel uncomfortable, to make the purple markings on her flesh burn and itch in agitation, to make her feel exposed.

And you, wonderful, sweet, you, had noticed her shift immediately.

You turned from the glass to watch her. Tilting your head to the side, your smile didn’t falter; it only grew warmer as you regarded her.

“But,” you said slowly, drawing out the vowel and following it with a kind of genuine, warm sincerity that only you could say with such a straight face. “I still think you’ve got the prettiest tiger stripes out of all of them.”

And just like that, that rush of insecurity Rumi had begun to feel was burned away by a few simple words from you.

Oh, she had been so giddy and giggly for the rest of their time at the zoo, her chest had felt so warm and fuzzy, and she’d kept replaying your words as you continued to visit the other exhibits.

Even now, Rumi couldn’t even fight the smile as she thought of how you had smiled at her as you said that.

You thought her patterns were pretty, prettier than the tigers they saw today. She laughed, hugging the teddy bear tighter as she rolled on her bed. She liked it when you complimented her; it always made her feel nice, a different sort of nice than when Celine or any of the tutors praised her.

She liked a lot of things about you, really. You were always so sweet to her, always had been, and patient, too. She didn’t have to be perfect around you; she could mess up, make mistakes, and you’d help her back up, tell her that everything was fine. She could be as weird and unconventional as she was, and you’d still think she was the coolest person ever, because you were just that nice.

Nice, and cute, and always knew how to make her smile, make her laugh, just seeing you was enough to improve her day—

Rumi stopped.

Suddenly, she was acutely aware of how warm her face was, of the way her heart was still beating rapidly at the thought of you, of the memory of your smiling face.

…Oh.

Oh.

This was bad. This was wonderful. This was terrible. She had a crush on you, didn’t she?

Suddenly feeling shy, Rumi hugged the teddy bear tighter as she stared up at the ceiling, unsure what to do with this revelation or where to go from here.

Should she confess? It was hard to imagine you might feel the same, but it wasn’t impossible.  Rejection wouldn’t be too terrible if you could remain friends, but what if things got too awkward for you to even stay with her as her friend? Rumi wasn’t sure she’d be able to handle losing you.

No. It’s not that she wasn’t sure if she could handle it; Rumi knew she wouldn’t be able to. If having a crush on you caused her to lose her best friend, Rumi would be devastated.

Pulling her from her thoughts was the vibration of her phone. Celine was just in the other room, and it wasn’t as if Rumi had a lot of people who might text her, so she knew immediately who it was.

You must have been psychic, she thought, you knew she had been thinking about you and decided that was the best time to text her.

[Hey Rumi! I just wanted to say thanks again for inviting me to come today. I had a lot of fun!] [We should go again next time we’re in the area!]

You followed your text with heart emojis and a goofy little tiger gif that made her heart do a flip, and it was impossible for Rumi not to smile as she texted you back.

Tossing her phone to the side, she rested her hand over her chest and felt how hard her heart was beating. “This is going to suck,” she decided.

“Uuuugh! I am so tired!” Seong complained as she stumbled out of the building beside you. “Too many numbers, too many equations. I swear my brain is going to implode if I have to look at one more math problem.”

Hajoon yawned, dragging his feet as he walked, and looking more like a corpse than a thirteen-year-old boy. “Why do we even need to know all these equations? I’m not going to be a mathematician, damn it! I don’t need to know these formulas to be an artist!”

“Just because there are exams coming up, they think they can throw everything at us at once like this? They’re a bunch of sick bastards for doing that!”

You sighed as you staggered out, feeling completely drained both physically and spiritually. “…Yeah, it was a ton of work,” you agreed with a weak laugh. You felt like you hadn’t slept in days, and you desperately wanted to crawl into bed.

“Right!”  Hajoon shouted, “Even he says it’s too much, and you know it’s real when he says so!”

Seong let out a dramatic sigh as she leaned against you, hugging your arm to her chest as she rested her chin on your shoulder. “You’re probably more tired than any of us,” she reached out to take your other hand in hers, looking it over—her gaze narrowed into a sharp glare at the faded bite marks on the inside of your wrist—and pretended not to notice as she instead entwined her fingers with yours. “How do you not have carpal tunnel yet from all the typing and writing you do? It’s like all you’re ever doing is writing notes and going through practice workbooks.”

You offered a laugh while she played with your hand, “You know how it is… Good test scores mean good high schools, and I need to work hard if I want to get into a college in Seoul.”

Hajoon scrunched up his nose. “Why would you want to go to school so far away? I get that Seoul’s like the big city, especially compared to here. But… there are a lot of fine schools closer to home.”

Sure, there were plenty of universities on Jeju Island, and in any other circumstance, you probably would have aimed for one of them.

But, you had your own reasons for wanting to get to Seoul; primarily because that’s where Rumi was going to be living once she debuted as an idol.  Even if it wasn’t a SKY university, you just wanted to guarantee you were in the city. You didn’t want to live miles away from her. What if she ended up forgetting about you while she was in Seoul because you stayed here in Jeju? That’d break your heart!

“All that studying has me starving.” Seong’s declaration pulled you from your thoughts, and she pushed herself closer to you. Raising her head, she flashed you a smile. “How about the two of us go get some burgers before heading home?”

“Thanks, but I’m not hungry,” you said with a soft shrug and sheepish smile, “Honestly? I’d rather crawl into bed and sleep more than anything.”

“I’ll get burgers with you,” Hajoon offered immediately, patting his stomach, “I missed dinner, so I could eat a whole cow right now.”

She turned to look at him, lips curling back in disgust. “Why would I want to get dinner with you?”

“Ouch, right to the heart with that one, Seong.”

Rolling her eyes, Seong gripped your arm tighter as she promptly shifted her attention off Hajoon and back to you. “Well, it’s pretty late out. Walk me to the bus stop?”

Well, you were already heading to the same bus stop as her—though you weren’t sure why she’d even bother asking when she knew this already—so you didn’t see much reason in refusing her.

With that, the three of you began the slow walk to the bus stop, talking about the different classes from the day and the study session at cram school they’d just finished, lamenting the exams that were just around the corner. You didn’t necessarily mind all the schoolwork, but damn, it certainly left you exhausted.

Hajoon and Seong bantered back and forth, with you stuck between them in the more literal sense as they bickered over test scores and question answers. You laughed, interjected now and then, but mostly just let your thoughts drift.

You still had a year before you had to really worry about the competitive high school entry exams, and you hadn’t even decided which school in particular you wanted to aim for. There were a couple of schools you were looking at, but, silly as it was, you wanted to run them by Rumi before you made any decisions.

It kind of sucked that regardless of which school you went to, you wouldn’t be able to go with Rumi. You’ve accepted that Celine was adamant about homeschooling her, but that hasn’t made you feel any less sullen about it. You could only imagine how much more fun classes would be if you could have your best friend with you all day.

Though maybe it was a blessing in disguise. You probably wouldn’t be getting any work done or be paying attention to any of the teachers if you were in the same class as her.

A finger pressed into your cheek. “You’ve got that sulky look on your face,” Seong said as she pulled you from your thoughts. “What’re you thinking about?”

“Oh? Just thinking of my English homework.”

“Gross.”

You laughed along as Hajoon went into a tirade about how much of a nightmare it was to learn English, with Seong shooting back about how it’s important to learn, especially if he planned to ever travel.

In all honesty, you didn’t really have much opinion on the topic, but you played along as the two shot jabs at each other with practiced efficiency. You only paused when you heard your name called out in the distance, turning half a step to look back and—

Immediately, a wide smile spread across your face, your expression completely lighting up as you spotted Rumi waving at you from further down the street, Celine just a few steps behind her.

The group stopped as the girl sprinted to catch up to you, and your heart hammered with familiar excitement and joy at seeing Rumi unexpectedly.

“Rumi!” you greeted, still grinning when she approached. You hadn’t expected to see her, but by God, you were not going to complain. “What are you doing out so late? It’s like, half-past eight.”

Rumi had been smiling as she ran towards you, but the moment her gaze fell on Seong, took in the way the other girl was clinging to you—that smile tightened, and something dark flashed through her gaze. For a moment, you thought she looked positively pissed. But then her eyes were on you again, and it was like nothing was wrong at all.

“Celine and I were doing some errands,” she explained, adjusting the sleeve of her hoodie as she glanced at Seong again before looking at you again. “What…what are you doing? With…her?”

“With her,” Hajoon cackled quietly behind you, “am I just invisible?”

You ignored his prodding, your focus entirely on the girl in front of you. “We just finished our cram classes for the day and were walking back to the bus stop. These are my friends from school; Seong and Hajoon,” you said, gesturing to the two, and then you held your hand out to Rumi, your voice going softer. “Guys, this is Rumi. She’s been my best friend since, well, forever.”

Hajoon immediately stepped forward, “So you’re the mysterious Rumi,” he brought a hand to his chin as he looked her up and down. “He never shuts up about you at school, so it’s nice to finally have a face to put to the name.”

“He—he talks about me?” Rumi repeated, a light blush blossoming across her cheeks.

“A little too much if you ask me,” Seong rolled her eyes, a dangerous edge to her voice. “Honestly, it’s kind of embarrassing how much he yaps. It’s always ‘Rumi this’ and ‘Rumi that’. I was starting to think he’d just made you up.”

You laughed sheepishly, feeling put on the spot all of a sudden. “Come on…” You murmured, pulling yourself out of Seong’s grip, “At least wait until I’m gone to start gossiping about me.”

“And badmouth you behind your back?” Hajoon let out an offended gasp, hand over his heart. “Never!”

By that point, Celine had reached your little party and regarded the group with a steady gaze, though there was that hint of familiar warmth when her eyes glanced over you. “It’s good to see you again, studying hard as ever, I take it?”

You smiled back at her, “As hard as I can. We’ve got exams coming up, so it’s been nonstop review day and night.”

“I can’t say I miss those days, myself,” Celine said, her expression shifting into a slight grimace at the memory of her own school days, before softening once more. “Rumi and I were about to have a late dinner; you’re welcome to join us. I can give you a ride home after, if you’d like, too.”

“Really?” you asked, perking up immediately, your gaze drifting back to Rumi. “I’d love to join you two; I’m absolutely starving!”

Hajoon raised a brow, “Didn’t you say earlier that you were—”

“Absolutely famished,” you cut him off, elbowing him hard in the side, rushing your words in your eagerness to split from them. “I’ll see you guys in class tomorrow, okay?”

Bidding your school friends goodbye, you were finally able to give Rumi all your attention.

Immediately, you noticed the funny look she had on her face, like she was trying hard not to look at you as she tensed up. It was kind of weird, you thought, she’d been getting like that a lot more often recently.

“I missed you,” you said, bumping your shoulder against her. “I haven’t seen you in ages!” In reality, it was just a few days, but the sentiment still stood.

Rumi glanced up at you, a smile forming. “Well, whose fault is that, Mr. ‘I can’t come over, I need to study’?”

“The education system, that’s who.”

To that, Rumi let out a laugh. One of those small ones where she tried to hold it in, and it came out with a small snort to it. You found those laughs to be positively adorable.

You found everything about her to be adorable, if you were being honest.

It was a shame that she was so far out of your league. Like, come on! Rumi was a celebrity-to-be, already the coolest girl you’ve ever met. Once she was out of hiding, she was going to have guys and gals coming out of the woodwork asking for her number. She was pretty, funny, and so incredibly nice.

And you were just. You.

You were lucky enough to just be best friends with her, and there was no way you were going to risk ruining that.

“Come on,” Rumi said, interrupting your thoughts as she reached out to snatch your hand in hers, giving it a tug, and you hoped she couldn’t feel how your pulse quickened at that one simple motion. “There’s this amazing all-you-can-eat barbecue place just down the street!”

You were helpless to do anything but follow, grinning like an idiot as you stumbled after her. “Lead the way, boss!” And if she felt the need for you and her to slip away from Celine for a minute so she could leave fresh bitemarks on your arm after meeting your friends, you weren’t going to kick up a fuss.

“Thanks again for letting me sleep in here tonight,” you murmured as you pulled the blankets tighter over yourself.

Rumi smiled as she sat back in her desk chair, “It’s no problem at all. But really—” her tone turned teasing as she regarded you, “I thought you said you could handle horror movies?”

“I can handle gory stuff, but you didn’t tell me there were going to be ghosts! Ghosts are terrifying!” you defended yourself with a whine. “They walk through walls, you can’t even see them unless they want you to, and they can possess people? How is that not terrifying?!”

She could see your point, though if you were this scared of ghosts…she wondered if she should hold off on telling you about demons.

Telling you about demons, about the Honmoon…she had been debating it for a while. You had been so receptive to her patterns when you saw them, even if you didn’t know the full truth of them.

She wanted to believe you’d still find them to be something beautiful once you learned of their demonic heritage. But…she was afraid. Afraid it’d change how you saw her. That she’d lose you over them. That she’d…

“You’re thinking too hard,” you called out, voice already thick with sleep as you yawned. “I can see it written all over your face.”

Rumi forced a smile and a laugh. “You got me. My thoughts just started wandering.”

“Want to talk about it?”

“Mhm…maybe another time.”

You hummed, watching her still. “Hey, Rumi…” you said slowly, as if you knew what had been bothering her, “just so you know…you’re still my favorite tiger.”

It just wasn’t fair how such a simple, silly confession could make her heart twist into knots, could chase away those worries that had begun gnawing at her. Her shoulders sagged, and Rumi smiled softly. “Promise?"

"Promise," you murmured sleepily.

Her heart melted in her chest, "And you’re still my favorite person," Rumi said in return.

You were both fourteen now, and this was probably going to be your last sleepover together. Rumi wanted to blame it on both of you getting older.

In truth, it was that Rumi just didn’t have as much time to spend with you anymore. Celine had begun her training in earnest for both her debut as an idol and as a hunter, and that meant early mornings, late nights, and a lot of bruises that she didn’t want you to start asking questions about.

But just like how Rumi was training hard for her future, a lot of your time was now spent studying, giving Rumi new reasons to hate the idea of a school.

Gone were the days when, as soon as you were back from school, you could run to Rumi’s house and play until the sun went down. No, four days a week, as soon as class was over, you’d be at a cram school and not get back home until late evening, and even then, your nights were consumed by more studying, all for the purpose of getting into a good high school.

Rumi had been horrified when Celine told her that how much time you spent just studying alone was pretty normal for students. You seemed so exhausted most days, too, because of it.

The reality was that you were both growing up, and Rumi hated that it meant she saw you less and less as your lives began to diverge.

“Is the light okay?” Rumi asked as she turned back to face her desk; the only light in her room came from the table lamp and her computer screen. It was a soft glow, but not too intrusive. “I need to make a few more edits to this song before going to bed, or Celine’s going to be mad.”

Yawning again, you tucked your head into her pillow, “The light’s fine, you’re fine,” you murmured.

The claim of having work to do before bed was a bit of a lie. She didn’t need to finish anything; Celine certainly hadn’t put a deadline on the song she’d been creating. But Rumi wasn’t sure her heart could handle sleeping in the same bed as you just yet. Not when you were still awake and could see her.

She still hadn’t gotten over her crush on you, after all. If anything, Rumi feared her feelings only grew stronger over the last year.

Rumi liked to think she was doing well at playing cool around you, but she couldn’t lie and say that she didn’t get butterflies when she saw you smile and laugh, or that every time you gave her a touch felt electrified.

But it didn’t matter. You were her best friend, and she couldn’t ruin that.

All Rumi needed to do was bottle these feelings for you up and bury them deep, deep down to never see the light of day. Just like Celine does. It was working out great for her mentor; Rumi was sure everything would be fine for her, too.

Just ignore them, and the feelings would pass on their own, and then everything could go back to how it should be.

Turning back to her computer screen, Rumi slipped on her headphones and began playing with the different notes in the audio software, trying to let the music drown out thoughts of you.

It was easy to get lost in the music, to let time melt away, once she started working.

But it was only a temporary distraction; there would always come a point where Rumi couldn’t fiddle with the notes anymore and expect something new.

At three in the morning, it was time to call it quits.

Leaning back in her chair, she stretched, feeling her joints pop and crack from the movement before turning around.

Immediately, her gaze fell to you. Fast asleep, tangled up in her blankets. Save for your quiet breaths, you were silent as death.

It was hardly the first time Rumi’s seen you asleep. She would often watch you during sleepovers when you were both little. Watch the way your chest rose and fell with each breath, or the way your expression would twitch, wondering what dreams you were having.

But watching you now…it invoked something in her. A mixture of yearning and possession that coiled like hot iron inside of her.

This isn’t fair, Rumi thought as she moved to crouch beside the bed.

Even in your sleep, your expression was still troubled. She supposed that was warranted, considering you were only in her room instead of the guest room because of the nightmare that woke you.

You breathed softly, and every so often, you’d let out a quiet sound as you shifted on the bed. Rumi kept watch, chin propped on her fist as she stared, trying to memorize every change in your expression, every sleep-born noise you made, every detail of your face.

It wasn’t fair how pretty you were, even asleep. You were beautiful, even without trying. Radiant. Full of life and blinding to look at. She wanted to be able to watch you all the time.

Her hand reached out, wanting so badly to touch you, to cup your face, run her fingers through your hair, to feel the warmth of your skin on her own. She wanted to carve a hole in her own ribcage that you could call home. To hold on to you and never let go.

She stopped herself before she could, trembling fingers curling into a fist as she brought her arm back to her own chest, trying to will away those viciously possessive thoughts. You were her friend, not something to hoard and possess.

Sighing, Rumi let her head drop. This really wasn’t fair.

How was she expected to control herself knowing you were just out of her reach? When seeing you here made her heart ache painfully in her chest?

“I don’t know if you know this,” she whispered to you, running a hand down her face. “But crushes really are the worst.”

Even as she thought that, even as her heart hurt for what she couldn’t have, Rumi still crawled into bed beside you. A soft smile formed as she curled into your side, greedily soaking in your warmth.

Here, in the quiet of the night, in the dark of her room, she could at least allow herself to pretend.

You mumbled something, still asleep, and Rumi found herself smiling softly as she rested her head against your shoulder.

Even if it wasn’t fair, she’d take what little of you she could get.

It wasn’t as if Rumi had never been to charity events before.

Celine had brought her to quite a number of them growing up, so she could grow accustomed to the environment, so she could get familiar with who she would see most often at the events and how to handle them, so she could learn how to act to both maintain her spotless image and gain the attention of those around her.

But just because this was familiar territory didn’t mean it was territory Rumi enjoyed being in.

She hated the clothes she would wear. They were always top-tier designer outfits that fit the event's aesthetic, but they were also always customized to cover as much skin as possible to hide her patterns. Rumi always felt so…confined in them.

Then there were the other patrons who all seemed so arrogant. Acting like because they’ve been in the industry for so long, they were entitled to whatever they wanted. That wasn’t even getting into the ones who’d stare and ogle at Rumi in ways that made her skin crawl.

And yet she had to smile and play along for the entire night, pretend that she wasn’t bothered, pretend that everything was okay, because she had an image to uphold as Celine’s protégé.

Celine had insisted that it was especially important, now more than ever, that Rumi start forming connections with others in the industry now that Huntr/x was close to being finalized. There were only a few more candidates left to go over, though her mentor seemed confident in her two leading picks. This time next month, she would begin training with two strangers, both as an idol and as a Hunter.

It was kind of scary to think about, if she were honest.

Rumi sauntered away from another group of ‘interested’ producers and made her way to the bar where you were waiting patiently for her.

“They’re like a pack of feral dogs in heat,” you murmured when Rumi slipped onto the stool beside you, head propped up on a hand. “Get one look at a pretty girl, and they all start barking.”

“Oh? You think I’m pretty?” Rumi asked, batting her eyelashes.

You gave a laugh—it didn’t go unnoticed by Rumi how strained it was—as you lightly knocked her with your elbow, eyes giving her a pointed once over “I’m not blind, you goof.”

Rumi smiled, stomach filled with butterflies at the compliment, at knowing you noticed, especially when she’d dressed up hoping you would, before she pushed those feelings aside. Leaning forward, Rumi took a closer look at you.

“Are you okay? You look…” Terrible. You’d gone rather pale since Rumi left you for a brief bout of networking; there was an obvious tension in you, like it was taking all your concentration just to stay upright.

But you just smiled, waving her concern off with practiced ease. “I’m fine, just started feeling lightheaded,” and that did not sound like something that constituted an ‘I’m fine’. But you continued. “I think it’s just the stress from preparing for the CSAT. Lots of sleepless nights, lots of studying, lots of mock tests… can't remember if I ate anything today, either. You know how it is.”

No, she really didn’t, but she understood the importance of the exam; if you got high enough marks on it, you’d be living in Seoul next year like her. You two wouldn’t have to be separated, not right away, at least.

Still…

“I really wish you'd take better care of yourself; you need to stop pushing yourself so hard,” Rumi scolded, turning to wave down the bartender. “Could we get a couple of juices? Non-alcoholic. Doesn’t matter the kind.”

The last thing you needed if you were already feeling dizzy would probably be alcohol, and Celine would skin you both alive if she found out either of you had taken advantage of the open bar to drink alcohol when neither of you was old enough yet.

The bartender returned with two glasses of apple juice, and Rumi waited until she saw you taking a small sip before she began drinking her own.

“So,” you said as you lowered your glass. “How’s it been out there in that sea of…what would you even call them? Media heads? Celebrity sharks?” Your face furrowed as you tried to think of a name to call them.

Rumi chuckled, taking another sip of her juice. “It’s…about how you would expect. Celine’s always said that it's like swimming with an open wound in shark-infested waters at these events, and she was not exaggerating.”

“Heh, you’re never going to catch me saying I envy you for dealing with this.”

“I’d have to think something was wrong with you if you did,” Rumi countered. “But…I know it was short notice, but thanks for coming to this event with me.”

You smiled back at her, that same bright, unfair smile that always made her feel so weak. “Thank you for inviting me. I never thought I’d get to attend one of these events before, certainly not as the plus one to Korea’s next biggest star.”

“Oh, don’t worry, I’ll be dragging you to far more of these once Huntrix debuts.”

Her threat was met with laughter.

Their conversation, unfortunately, was cut short, and Rumi quickly shifted her expression into a more practiced poise as someone approached them.

“Hello, are you Ryu Rumi, Celine’s protégé?” an older man asked as he leaned against the counter on Rumi’s opposite side, hailing down the bartender for a drink. He had a smile like a honeytrap, and Rumi felt her skin crawl when his hand brushed against her arm as he reached for his own drink.

On her other side, she could feel you shifting even without seeing, that subtle tension, ready to spring forward the moment Rumi signaled she needed help.

But she didn’t. She navigated a polite, if not short and curt, conversation with the man before he wandered off in search of more receptive companionship. Unfortunately, he was only the first.

A few others approached, interrupting you and Rumi each time. Sometimes, with prying questions about what the Legendary Celine was like off camera, sometimes trying to poach the upcoming talent, promising better opportunities for Rumi, as their labels were far more established than the still relatively new Sunlight Entertainment.

Sometimes, it was just older, intoxicated men trying not-so-slyly to hit on Rumi, not knowing or caring that she wasn’t quite eighteen yet.

You stayed at her side each time, remaining quiet while Rumi navigated the social aspect of this event, and then poking fun at each one of the interlopers the moment they walked away, taking away Rumi’s tension with a few simple words, as always.

On occasion, she could see Celine gliding across the floor, flowing from one group to the other as she met up with familiar faces and networked with newer ones with ease. Wondered to herself if she’d ever be as much of a social savant as her mentor was.

“Hey,” you murmured, nudging her arm just a bit. “Do you want to maybe get away from all of this for a minute? Maybe get some air?”

That wasn’t a bad idea, really. Rumi could honestly go for a little break from it all, and an excuse to get away from being treated like a show dog by everyone who came over. Besides, how could she possibly say no to more time spent with you?

“Lead the way,” was all Rumi said.

Smiling, you took her by the hand and began to lead her away. Rumi tried not to show just how excited she was as she followed you, but she was sure the grin she was wearing looked positively goofy. Briefly, she caught Celine’s gaze, the familiar raised eyebrow, a silent appraisal of what was going on.

You were careful, weaving past other patrons, leading her into the narrow halls until you found the glass door to one of the estate’s many balconies.

This one felt more private, being so far from the rest of the event; it was just you and Rumi present, and yet you were not so far away that you couldn’t still hear the music from the main room drifting by quietly.

“So much better out here,” you sighed, leaning against the railing. The night air was cool, and beneath the quiet swell of music, Rumi could hear the chitter of cicadas and the occasional call of a bird.

“Beautiful out here,” Rumi agreed, though her eyes had remained on you as she said that.

It was peaceful, and for a moment, Rumi finally felt fully, truly relaxed for the first time since she’d set foot into the building. No cameras flashing, no strangers wanting to talk to her. It was just her and you, and she couldn’t want anything more.

The music was quite nice, even muffled and from a distance, and Rumi hadn’t really had a chance to really enjoy herself yet...

Feeling bold, she stepped closer to you. “Would you like to dance?” she asked. They were out of sight here, no one to bother and interrupt them, and there wouldn’t be dozens of gazes staring at them. They could just have fun.

You turned your gaze to her, blinking owlishly. “I…you know I’m not too great at dancing. I might step on your toes,” you said warningly, a sheepish smile on your pretty lips, and Rumi privately chastised herself for staring at them for so long.

“Then you’re lucky that I’m plenty great at dancing,” Rumi countered smoothly, “I can live with a few stepped-on toes.” She offered you a hand as she said that. Please accept, please accept, please accept!

Laughing, you rubbed the back of your neck, ears pink and smile wide. “Well, then—yeah. I’d like that.”

Inwardly, she was jumping for joy that you had accepted, but on the outside, she maintained her composure as she took your hand in hers, leading you to the center of the balcony so you would have more room. It was only when the two were face-to-face that Rumi found herself hesitating.

It was you who took the next step, slowly placing one of your hands on her hip, hovering over her for a moment as you waited for approval before letting it settle on her, before threading the fingers of your other hand together with hers. Swallowing, Rumi followed suit, letting her hand fall on your arm.

The two did a very simple waltz, following the pace given by the piano melody that drifted in the air. You were counting under your breath to match your steps to the beat, staring down at their feet as you both moved together.

Rumi’s toes did not get stepped on as much as you had warned, and slowly you found your rhythm in the dance, looking away from the floor to instead watch Rumi as the two of you moved.

You were a far cry from the most graceful dancer, but Rumi wouldn’t want any other partner.

And you were looking at her so tenderly, your expression so soft. Like she personally hung the moon and each star in the sky, like she was something precious, something to cherish. It was hard to meet your gaze when you were like that.

“You keep staring at me—do I have something on my face?” Rumi asked, hoping her blush wasn’t too visible in the dim light of night.

You only laughed, maintaining rhythm as you two continued to dance. “No, I’m just…awed. Yeah, that’s the right word. Awed,” you said softly. “Kind of crazy that before we know it, the whole world’s going to get to see just how great you are.”

This time, Rumi stumbled a half-step, catching herself on your foot before recovering just as quickly. Her face was feeling even warmer now. “You’re just trying to flatter me into free concert tickets. I’m not that great.”

“Well, that’s also true,” another huff of laughter, “but I’m serious. You’re amazing, Rumi. You’re so skilled and confident, you’re talented, sure, but you’re also one of the hardest-working people I know. You don’t let anything stop you from achieving your goal. You’re insanely brave, beautiful, basically a goddess among mortals and—"

“You think I’m a goddess?” Rumi asked, cutting you off.

The dance came to a stumbling halt, and you stared at her with wide eyes, as if you hadn’t even realized what you’d said.

Slowly but surely, your face began to burn. “I—uh—” you stammered, searching desperately for the right words. “I mean, well, yeah?”

She didn’t miss the fact that even though the dance was over, you hadn’t let her go.

Rumi found herself feeling ridiculously flattered, ducking her head to stare at their shoes and smiling widely to herself, even though she felt embarrassed by the praise.

Swallowing, you tightened your grip on her, pulling Rumi just a little closer. “I’m serious. You’re…incredible doesn’t even begin to describe you,” you insisted, your voice going quiet, afraid. “Honestly…some days I don’t even get why you put up with me. I’m just…nobody special, meanwhile, you’re so, so wonderful. You kind of feel out of my league.”

“I’m not,” Rumi said quickly, maybe too quickly, “a-and you’re not. Not a nobody, not to me.” She tightened her grip on your hand and took a fraction of a step closer to you.

“You’re my best friend. You’re the one person I could always count on, no matter what. You didn’t turn me away when you saw my patterns, you didn’t turn me away when you learned about demons, you…you’re the kindest, most open-hearted person I know,” Rumi was aware that her voice was trembling now, that her body was trembling. She let out a soft, wet laugh. “I’m the one who should be asking why you still put up with me.”

You pressed your forehead to hers and sighed, “So I think you’re amazing and too good for me, and you think I’m amazing and too good for you. But we’re both still here. So I think that cancels it out. Or something.”

“Or something,” Rumi agreed.

They were close. So close. Sure, they’ve been tangled together before when playing and goofing off, wrestling each other over insignificant things. But this felt different. Electric. She didn’t want to pull away; she wanted to pull you in closer.

Her hand moved from your arm to cradle your jaw. Her voice trembled softly as the words tumbled out. “Can I kiss you?”

Your answer was a slow, subtle nod.

Before Rumi’s confidence could leave her, before she could talk herself out of it, she leaned forward and closed the distance, her lips connecting softly to yours.

In movies and books, when characters had their first kiss, there were fireworks and explosions. Usually, a dramatic romantic song would be playing in the background (Though she supposed the musical accompaniment from the charity gala counted).

As Rumi kissed you, all she was thinking was; Why did I wait so long? I could have been doing this sooner!

It was awkward, neither knowing exactly what to do, but it was endearing. Fumbling hands, teeth clashing, and mumbles of ‘sorry’ cut off by laughter as they pulled away and dove back in for more. It was you and Rumi and nothing else in the world.

Time melted away, and all Rumi knew was that she wanted to keep kissing you until she died.

You tasted like apples, she was sure she did too from the juice, and it was something Rumi couldn’t stop smiling about as she felt your hand move from her waist to rest on the small of her back. Your lips were soft, fitted perfectly against her own, as if you two had been made for each other.

When the two of you part, you’re both panting, breathing hard, and blushing harder.

The two of you looked at each other, and wide smiles broke across both your faces as you began to laugh, still clinging tight to each other, never wanting to let go.

“Promise you won’t regret this?” Rumi asked as she rested her head against your shoulder.

You pressed a kiss to her temple, nails scratching lightly at the nape of her neck. “Only if you do the same.”

In the blink of an eye, two years had passed.

It had taken no time for Mira and Zoey to carve a spot in her heart, for them to find a balance between their fighting styles and voices. Huntr/x, still newly debuted, was already off to a strong start.

And you… You were a secret.

As much as Celine was happy for the two of you, she had made sure Rumi understood that they couldn’t afford to let the public know she was in a relationship, not yet, at least. It’d go against the image idols had to uphold, and would cause fan backlash if they knew.

After a few years, once Huntr/x had gained a strong enough presence in the music industry and were no longer rookies, then they could consider making your and Rumi’s relationship public. But for the time being, if you two were to date, you had to be a secret.

It was a good thing that keeping secrets came naturally to Rumi. Twenty-four months, and Mira and Zoey still had no idea you existed. If not even they hadn't caught on to you, then she was confident the media was just as in the dark.

Still, she did hate that your time together was far and few between. You two texted and called every chance you got, but actually being together? A rare treat.

There had been more than a few occasions where Rumi, feeling particularly dangerous, had snuck you into her house during training, and then into the Seoul penthouse after debuting.

More than a few nights you spent hiding out in her room until Mira and Zoey left, so you wouldn’t get caught, having to crawl under the bed or hide in the closet at a moment’s notice because Zoey liked to just barge into rooms without warning. They always ended with you and Rumi barely able to keep from laughing at how many close calls you’d have.

But recently? Even that was getting harder to do. Not because Mira and Zoey were more vigilant, but because neither of you had the time anymore. University kept you busy, and idolhood and demons kept her busy. It was hard to find a time when you were both free.

That only meant that the time you two did get together was cherished that much more.

Today in particular was one such moment. It was a pleasant Sunday afternoon, a rare day when you were both free from prior obligations and could spend the day together doing whatever you two wanted. Such as sitting on a bench and eating corn dogs together.

“I told you this is the best corndog stand in all of Seoul,” you said as you and Rumi ate.

Rumi moaned into her bite, hand to her cheek. “It’s so good.”

You smiled as she quickly finished hers off. “Want to get the dog of the day, too?” you asked, earning a nod from her.

Between wearing one of your old baseball caps and an oversized hoodie she’d stolen from your closet, it seemed no one had given her so much as a second glance.

A victory in her book, less chance of being spotted, less risk of her first date with you in over a month would be interrupted, and less risk of a photo of the two of you together showing up in the tabloids.

Wolfing down her third corndog, Rumi glanced at you and raised a brow. “Is that all you’re going to eat?”  You had barely even eaten half of the one corndog you got.

You shrugged, “Yeah. I just don’t have much of an appetite right now. I’ll just take the rest home with me and finish it later.”

Rumi frowned, reaching up to poke at your cheek. “You better not be skipping meals,” she warned you, it was a bad habit you had subconsciously picked up, where you'd get so invested in your school work and studies, you'd forget to take a break and eat of you didn't set a reminder, “You look like you’ve lost a little weight since I saw you last.”

“You’re just imagining it, I promise I’ve been eating,” you assured her, nudging her hand aside. Rumi wasn’t sure if she entirely believed you, but…well, she trusted you to take care of yourself.

You didn’t let her sit on that thought for long, already switching the subject as you nudged her foot. “So, your first world tour is coming up, right? Pretty exciting stuff.”

Perking up at the reminder, Rumi couldn’t fight off the grin. As you said, Huntr/x will be departing for their first tour soon, taking them all over Asia to perform. It was more than exciting; it was a marker of just how much progress Huntr/x had made since debuting.

There was one major downside to the tour, however. Rumi’s smile dropped, and she pulled her gaze down to her lap as she reached out, fingers fumbling to find your own in quiet clinginess. “We’ve never been apart for so long before…”

Sure, there were times when the two of you hadn’t seen each other for days because of your busy schedules—but this was different. Rumi won’t just be down the street from you or across town. She’ll be across the country. Sometimes across borders. Sometimes across seas.

The separation made her feel uneasy.

You let go of her hand—and Rumi felt the briefest moment of panic, quelled only when that same arm wrapped around her shoulders, pulling her against you in a side hug. “You’ll be fine, you’re going to do great,” you assured her, pressing a kiss to her cheek.

“You’ll call me, right?” Rumi asked.

“Every day,” you promised.

Rumi softened completely, melting against your hold. “I’ll hold you to it,” she smiled. “If you miss even one day—oooh boy, there will be trouble.”

It was a hollow threat, of course. The most Rumi would do as ‘punishment’ for you would be denying you kisses and cuddles. And even then, she would cave before the punishment ran its course. Because why would she punish herself when all she knew she’d want when she came back from tour would be to smother you in kisses?

But you played along like the good sport you were, promising that you’d be a good boy and call and text her while she was gone, promising that even if you couldn’t be at the concerts in person, you’d be watching the recordings as soon as they dropped online.

You already knew what songs they were planning to play, of course; Rumi had given you a sneak peek at their track list as soon as they finalized the tour.

Not only that, but Rumi had a habit of sharing their songs with you in advance, letting you be the first to hear them before they were released.

Celine would undoubtedly be shaking her head and scolding her for it if she knew, but Rumi thought it was worth it.

She loved seeing the way your expression would light up like the sun itself when you were listening to their new albums, and it always gave her a major ego boost whenever you started gushing about how good her parts were.

Nuzzling against your shoulder, Rumi glanced up at the sky, it was still late afternoon. Plenty of time, still, for the two of you. “Want to go to your apartment for a bit?” she asked, her smirk giving away the not-so-pure thoughts running through her mind at the moment.

You laughed, hand over your heart. “Why, miss, are you trying to proposition me?” you asked, putting on a voice. “I’m afraid I can’t, I’m a taken man, after all.”

“You are?” Rumi asked, playing along as she pressed herself closer to you. “Well, don’t be shy, what’s she like?”

Oh, the little sneak; fishing for compliments. But you weren’t going to leave her wanting.

“She’s the prettiest girl I’ve ever met, the prettiest in the whole world,” you said lightly, resting your hand over Rumi’s to thread your fingers together. “I’ve thought that much since the day I met her.”

Rumi let out an embarrassed little twitch next to you, “P-Pretty, huh?” she asked, trying to sound teasing, though her face was growing red.

“Pretty, adorable, cute, beautiful. All of them can describe her,” you nodded your head. “She’s incredibly patient with me, and brave even when she thinks she’s not, braver than she knows.” Oh, Rumi’s blush was spreading; what a pretty sight.

You leaned closer, chin resting on her shoulder. You could feel the way she was squirming now. “She might get a little too eager when it comes to biting me, likes to mark her territory like that. But in all honestly? That’s part of her charm.”  To finish it off, you blew a puff of warm air against her ear.

In an instant, Rumi was on her feet, face red as a tomato, “Oh, look at the time! We should really get going if we don’t want to be late,” she declared, her voice loud and strained.

You had to fight back your laughter and the urge to teasingly as ‘late to where?’

Face still red, Rumi reached out to tug you to your feet, “Come on, race you to the subway?”

It was a desperate attempt to change the topic and pull the focus onto something else, and you supposed you could give her this, and soon you were both jogging down the street.

There wasn’t a chance you’d be able to beat her in a race; you and Rumi both knew this. You did not have the stamina of an idol, let alone of a hunter. But that wasn’t going to stop you from giving chance, laughing as you sprinted after her.

Rumi kept her pace purposely slower so she wouldn’t leave you completely in the dust, every so often looking back at you to throw you a playful wink and teasing grin as she taunted you for being so slow.

It was fun, and you couldn’t help but laugh as you ran, feeling like a little kid playing tag with Rumi back on Jeju Island again.

The dizziness hits you like a wall.

One moment, you were sprinting, not a care in the world. The next, your lungs felt empty, your head woozy, faint—

You were on the ground.

Still dazed, it took you a moment to even process the pain from your scraped hand or the throb in your knee as you slowly moved from your stomach, pushing yourself up to sit.

“A-are you okay?” Rumi was at your side in an instant, panic in her voice and her eyes as her hands began patting you down for injuries. “What happened?”

You weren’t really sure, actually.

“I, uh, tripped,” you said instead with a sheepish laugh.  Maybe you just got lightheaded because you hadn’t eaten much today. That was probably it. “It’s nothing serious, I promise.”

Rumi’s expression remained furrowed, but you did your best to assure her that you were perfectly fine. You just tripped; it happens. It wasn’t something to make a fuss over, though you did appreciate her concern.

Your legs felt unstable as you stood, but you pretended otherwise as Rumi helped you to your feet.

It was nothing, you told her. Told yourself. You’d just…tripped. That’s all. You got dizzy because you hadn’t been eating and tripped. Nothing to be worried about.

So why did you feel so uneasy?

“…Right… I understand…”

Rumi tilted her head as she stepped into the room; you were seated on the couch, phone in hand, and didn't even look up at her. “…Yeah, that time works fine… Mhm…right… Thank you.” Your voice was so quiet, almost dejected. It immediately raised concerns.

A quiet click as you placed your phone on the coffee table, running a hand down your face, your shoulders sagged as you let out a long sigh.

“What was that about?” Rumi asked as she sat down next to you, resting a comforting hand on your back. “That didn’t sound like a good call.”

You didn’t answer right away, like you were trying to sort out what you wanted to say. But then you were looking at her with that smile that said everything was okay.

“Eh, just the doctor's office being a pain,” you answered with a shrug, and before Rumi could voice her concern, you leaned over to rest your head on her shoulder. “Trying to get in for the flu shot, and they’re being difficult. You know how it is, it’s nothing to worry about.”

“You know that saying ‘don’t worry about it,’ doesn’t actually make me worry less.”

You responded with a quiet laugh.

Okay. This was weird, this was really weird, Rumi decided, something was definitely off with you today, and she did not like that.

“What’s wrong?” she asked, cupping your face in her hands, turning you to face her so she could look at you properly. You looked…tired didn’t quite describe it. Sullen? Broody, maybe? “You look miserable.”

You smiled, leaning into her touch. “You’re flying out for your first tour tomorrow morning, and I won’t get to see you again for months. I think I’m well within my rights to be feeling miserable.”

Oh. Was that what this was? You were sulking because Rumi was going to be leaving soon, and you already missed her?

That was adorable.

“We’re still going to talk. Calls and texts every day, and I’m going to be sending you photos of everywhere we go, too,” Rumi reminded, rubbing gentle circles into your cheek with her thumb. “It’s going to be lonely without you.”

“Mhm…” you murmured, nuzzling into her palm. “Promise me that you’re not going to fall madly in love with someone new while on your tour?”

The idea that she could fall in love with anyone else when she already had you was hilarious. But if that’s what you needed to feel better about the separation, “I promise.”

“I dunno, so many people are going to fall head over heels in love with you on this tour,”  you said slowly, a forced playfulness to your voice. “What if one of them comes and sweeps you off your feet, too?”

“Never going to happen,” Rumi answered back, adamant. “They can try, but I’m not giving you up for anyone.”

As if to prove the point, she pulled you in again, pressing a kiss to your cheek. “Doesn’t matter how handsome or pretty they are—” a kiss to your other cheek, “—no amount of flowers or love confessions—” a kiss to your forehead, “—will be enough to make me turn from you.” She went lower, kissing the tip of your nose. “Why would I downgrade when I already have the best?”

“You got some weird tastes if you think I’m the best.”

“Hush. My tastes are perfect. You’re perfect.”

Slowly, Rumi moved until she had crawled into your lap, pressing another kiss to your cheek. “I’m going to miss you,” she mumbled, bringing her kiss lower, pressing her lips to your jaw. “Going to miss seeing your smiling face, feeling your soft skin, getting to cover every inch of you in kisses…” Each sentiment was punctuated with another kiss as she dipped lower and lower.

You should have expected it—but the feeling of Rumi’s teeth sinking into your neck still took you by surprise. It didn’t hurt, at least not much, but she had intentionally placed it right over a still-healing bruise.

“R-Rumi,” you stuttered out a laugh as she shifted her head, tracing her teeth along your skin, searching for another spot to bite down.

Her hands were on your shoulders, holding you in place as she continued to nip and kiss at your neck. “Don’t mind me, I’m just marking what’s mine,” she smiled into your throat as she left another bite mark. “With how long I’m going to be gone for…can’t let all the other girls think you’re suddenly available.”

“Terrible,” you chided as you tilted your head, giving her more access to the sensitive flesh. “Absolutely terrible.”

“The worst,” Rumi agreed with a laugh.

You were so used to being Rumi’s chew toy that this was familiar territory, enough so that you just settled into your spot, tracing random patterns into Rumi’s hips as she carefully devoured your neck like she was trying to cover every available inch of skin with a hickey.

There was no way she would have been satisfied with just your neck, Rumi would have kept going, kissing and marking the expanse of skin currently hidden by your clothes—had her phone not started going on.

Tilting your head, you glanced to where she’d left the device. “You can go get it; it might be important.”

Rumi didn’t even try to hide the look of irritation on her face, glaring at her phone like it had committed the greatest crime against her, personally. But that look only lasted for a minute before she was looking down at you again, wearing that familiar, apologetic smile.

“I’ll be right back,” she murmured, giving you a quick peck on the lips before she climbed off you and stepped out of the room to take her call.

The call itself wasn’t particularly long; Bobby was checking in to see if she’d finished packing everything she was taking with her, reminding her of what time they would be leaving tomorrow, and suggesting she get to bed soon so she’d be awake in time. The usual check-ups he’d make before Huntr/x went on any out-of-town trip.

It had only taken a few minutes, but that was plenty long enough for you to get up from the couch and start moving around—meaning no more biting for Rumi, much to her chagrin.

You smiled when you saw Rumi coming back, holding a small gift bag in your hands. “So…I actually got you a little gift for your tour,” you said with a sheepish smile, holding up the bag.

“You really didn’t need to,” oh, she was feeling flustered now as she took the bag from you. Always did when you gave her impromptu gifts like this.

“I know, but I wanted to,” you insisted, still smiling oh so softly at her as you reached out, tucking a few flyaway strands of hair back behind her ear. “It’s just…I wanted you to have something to remind you of me while you’re gone. Consider it my stand-in during the tour. ”

Inside the bag was a teddy bear. A very soft, plush, huggable teddy bear wearing a positively adorable black and orange tiger onesie.

She understood why you called it your ‘stand-in’.

“I love it,” Rumi murmured, hugging the plushie tight to her chest. The perfect gift. A perfect combination of two things you both loved. It’d be impossible for her to look at this teddy bear and not think of you. “He’s perfect, he’s going to come with me for every leg of the tour.”

You smiled back, relief written plainly across your face. “I’m glad,” you murmured, stepping closer, cupping her face in your hands. “Every time you’re feeling lonely, or you’re missing me, give him a nice big hug and pretend you’re hugging me.”

Leaning into your hand, Rumi laughed, “I’ll be hugging him for the entire tour if I do that.”

“Is that supposed to be a bad thing?” you asked, and before Rumi could answer, you pressed your lips to hers, stealing her words with a kiss.

It was a gentle, slow kiss. Nothing like the way Rumi had been kissing your neck earlier. Rumi savored the feel of your lips on hers, reaching up with one hand to hold onto you.

When you pulled away, you kept your forehead pressed to hers. “I’m going to miss you,” you murmured softly. “I’ll be thinking of you every day that you’re gone.”

“I’ll miss you, too, just as much,” Rumi swore, gripping you tighter. She didn’t want to let go, didn’t want to have to leave, even if it was just temporary. “Promise me that you’ll tell me everything that happens while I’m gone? What you’re doing, what you’ve been eating, how your studies are going, everything you’ve been up to?”

You moved, shifting from pressing your head to her forehead to instead bury your face into her shoulder. “…I promise.”

-Month One-

 Rumi already missed you fiercely.

“I’m hugging Hodori every time, just like I promised,” Rumi said during one phone call, the teddy bear held tighter to her chest. “He does help to take the edge off, but I’m still left missing you.”

“I know what you mean,” you said over the phone. “I miss you so much. I’m focusing more on my studies than ever to try to keep my mind off it, and I'll listen to your songs when I really want to hear your voice."

“Wouldn’t the songs just make you miss me more?”

“Mhm~”

Rumi laughed at your response; she could easily imagine the mischievous smile you undoubtedly had on.

After a moment, you continued, pivoting the conversation with ease. “I saw the clips of your Hong Kong concert. You looked absolutely gorgeous on stage—whoever did the costumes for that show deserves a raise.”

“You’re exaggerating,” Rumi countered, feeling warmth spreading from her chest to her cheeks. “I was so sweaty because of how hot it was up there, and the lighting was so terrible that there’s no way any of us looked good in the clips.”

“Nope~! Wrong. You looked gorgeous.”

-Month Two-

Coming back from a long, grueling interview to find text messages from you on her phone was a surefire way to re-energize Rumi as she collapsed onto the hotel couch.

Her smile only widened as she saw the pictures you had sent her.

—Missing you like crazy ❤️—

—I went up to Namsan Tower and look what I found!—

And then you had sent a photo of the chain-linked fence, covered in brightly colored padlocks. The one taking the focus of the photo was a pale purple padlock with little white patterns painted across it and familiar handwriting on its surface.

The love lock that the two of you had placed during your first year of dating. She could still remember how happy and excited you both had been, making a game out of finding the best spot to place the lock among the sea of padlocks already present.

Your hand was also in the picture, right beside the love lock, curled into the shape of a half heart.

—Missing my other half 🥺—

Her heart swelled, and she was still grinning like a lovesick fool by the time Mira and Zoey returned to the hotel room with takeout, having to come up with a lie to explain her giddiness.

-Month Three-

“Good night, aein.”

She pressed play again.

“Good night, aein.”

Your voice came through her earbuds, soft, gentle, and full of so much love. Rumi smiled as she lay in her hotel bed and pressed play on the voice memo again. Your voice drowned out the sound of Tokyo’s nightlife outside the window, and the muffled chatter of Mira and Zoey as they stayed up in the next room over.

“Good night, aein.”

“Good night, aein.”

“Good night, aein.”

God. She missed you so much. Rumi pulled the teddy bear into her arms, curling around the plushie and hugging Hodori tight as she let your voice message loop on her phone.

“Good night, aein.”

“Good night, jagiya,” Rumi murmured in reply.

-Month Four-

“Are you okay?”

Rumi frowned as she heard you coughing on the other end, wheezing for breath.

After a minute, you managed a response, your voice raspy and terrible: “I’m…I’m good,” you huffed. “Just coming down with a cold.”

“Are you sure? I can call Celine, ask if she can bring you some medicine.”

“Don’t worry, I don’t want to bother her—Seong is going to swing by with some food and meds when she drops off her notes from class today.”

Ah, her.

Rumi tried not to let the irritation show in her voice. Sure, Seong didn't seem interested in you anymore, but Rumi still felt a rush of jealousy whenever you brought her up. “Well, at least promise me you’re going to get some rest rather than work.”

Another coughing fit, a pained wheeze, sounds that made Rumi want nothing more than to cross the ocean and be there with you.

“I’ll… I’m probably going to take a nap in a bit,” you promised, swallowing hard over the line. “Tell me about how things are going for you. I keep seeing online that someone tried to propose to Mira during the after-show event at your last concert. Did that really happen?”

Rumi laughed at the reminder.

Under most circumstances, something like that would have been uncomfortable, especially with how adamant the fan was about how he wanted to marry Mira. He even had a ring with him. But it had turned out to be a rather adorable interaction, and Mira had handled it like a pro.

Grinning, Rumi leaned back in her seat. 

“Well, to start with, he was just nine years old…”

-Month Five-

“What if I took a gap year for it?”

“Absolutely not.”

“I mean, it’s pretty normal—a lot of my classmates are planning for their service to start after two years of school.”

“That’s still two years you’ll be away from me for. So, no. Not happening.”

You laughed over the line, soothing Rumi’s nerves. “It’s not like I can just not enlist,” you pointed out. “Either I do my mandatory military time during college, or I wait until I graduate. Personally, I’d rather not wait until graduation. I keep hearing about how much harder it is to get a job when you do that.”

Rumi pouted, crossing her arms over her chest. You weren’t wrong, but that didn’t mean she had to like it. “Well, you don’t need to worry about a job. Just do what you want, I’ll support you completely.”

More laughter, “Are you asking to be my sugar mommy, Rumi? Rather risqué, whatever would Celine say?”

She smiled back this time. “Hey, don’t you remember? We agreed that I would be the breadwinner while you’re the stay-at-home dad taking care of the kids and, if I remember right, pet tigers you insisted we would have.”

A quiet groan, “Nooo, why do you have to remember that? That was like…over a decade ago.”

“How could I forget that? It was the day you proposed to me, after all. I’ll remember that day until I die.”

-Month Six-

“You look like shit.”

You forced a smile as you leaned against the wall. “Thanks, Seong. You’ve always had such a way with words.”

Seong frowned as she adjusted the strap to her bookbag. “No, not like that. You genuinely look terrible—are you okay?” She looked so concerned as she reached up and pressed a hand to your forehead. “You looked like you were about to pass out during class. Maybe you should take the rest of the day off.”

“Can’t…we’ve got a study session for an exam today.”

In all honesty, Seong wasn’t wrong. If you looked half as terrible as you felt, well…if you were in her shoes, you’d be insisting they go home, too.

Your head hurts, every muscle and bone in your body hurts.  Your whole body was one big mess of pain. Everything had been hurting for days. Even your lungs hurt if you breathed too deeply; they’d burn and leave your chest tingling.

Seong watched you before sighing, “Fine, but at least try to take it a little easy, okay? I’m sure your girlfriend won’t be too happy if she finds out you collapsed because you’ve pushed yourself while sick.”

“Good thing I’ll be fine by the time she’s back,” you countered, and tried to sound like you believed it.

“I'd better not see you complaining tomorrow if you feel even worse.”

You just smiled in answer as you followed her through the hall, letting her lead the way to your next shared class, walking like she owned the entire campus. Her confidence was enviable sometimes.

The chatter in the halls was a mangled murmur in your ears, and just ahead of you, Seong was talking as well. You were only partially listening to what she was talking about—something about classes, or maybe drama with her newest flame.

It wasn’t as if you were ignoring her on purpose, you really were trying to listen, to pay attention—but it was all drowned out by a thick layer of fog in your head.

Truth be told, you hadn’t been feeling ‘good’ in a while.

It started with dizzy spells and sudden fatigue, and then it got worse and worse. Eventually, you saw a doctor.

The results…hadn’t been ideal. But Rumi was leaving for her tour when they came in, and you didn’t want to distract her. So you’ve been pretending everything was fine when she called, hoping you could make that a truth by the time her tour ended.

For the most part, things had been…not okay, but not as bad as they could be. But today? Today was proving to be a nightmare.

The migraine had been going on for forty-eight hours now, at least, and there was no sign it was going away anytime soon.

Your brain hurts, a ball of pain in a fuzzy skull. Every so often, you’d have to stagger to a stop, the world around you blending into a dizzying swirl of black and white, then snapping back into focus with a burst of painful stars.

One of your books tumbled out of your arms when another student bumped into your shoulder. Slowly bending over to pick it up, you nearly fell right over. Your head felt woozy, pounding like a drum as your vision blurred, turning black at the edges.

A hand was on your shoulder. “Hey, are you sure you’re okay?”

Forcing yourself back to stand on unsteady legs, you smiled brightly at Seong. “I’m fine, just…just got a little lightheaded for a moment there. It’s passed, now,” you lied. You felt like your lungs were in a necrotic state; dry and empty, leaving you breathless in the worst ways. The throbbing in your skull didn’t seem even slightly willing to stop.

Seong gave you a good, long look, like she didn’t quite believe you, but didn’t want to fight you on the matter, and settled for giving a short huff. “Just be more careful, okay?”

You would be, at least, you’d try to be more careful. And you really were trying. Trying to stay on your feet, trying to pay attention to what was happening around you, trying to get through the day.

She started walking again, heading down the long flight of stairs to take you back to the first floor. You lingered behind for a moment longer, taking in a deep breath, scrunching up your face.

Just a little longer. Just a few more hours. You only needed to make it through class and your study session, and then you could go home. Crawl into bed. Sleep this misery off. It should be easy. But it wasn't.

This wasn’t fair.

You’ve been good.

You’ve been taking the meds the doctors prescribed, you’ve been making sure to get at least six hours of sleep each night, even when you had mountains of schoolwork. Sure…you might not be eating as much as you should be, having not had an appetite in what felt like ages and throwing up what you did manage to eat more often than not, but you’d been drinking your water, at least! You’d stopped drinking caffeine. You weren’t drinking any alcohol, even when out with your classmates.

God fucking damn it, you’ve been doing your best to be good.

No. Stop.

Getting angry wasn’t going to make things better. You needed to focus on here. On right now. Don’t let it show just how sick you are. Just…just get through today. You needed to get through today, if nothing else, then because you promised to call Rumi tonight.

Steadying yourself mentally, you took a shaky step forward towards the stairs.

Pinpoint, shaky pupils attempting to focus on the steps beneath you, one hand gripping tight to the railing. The floor looked like it was shifting underneath you just as much as it felt it. Like you were walking on a massive waterbed. Each step threatens to send you toppling over.

Something in your stomach lurched, and you tightened your grip on the rail, pulling yourself back when you realized you had begun swaying. You had only gone down three steps.

Taking another deep breath, you closed your eyes. You could do this; it was just a flight of stairs. But your legs felt so numb, and you couldn’t breathe.

You forced yourself down another step.

“Hey... do…later…” Seong was a few steps ahead of you, hadn’t turned to face you even while talking. Her words became something muddled to you, like a different language altogether.

Your vision swam. Somehow, everything was too loud, too bright. Nauseating. Your vision was cloudy. Your body was not responding to your throbbing head.

Someone called out loud and sharply—you weren’t sure what, or to whom. Your body was lurching forward again, your hold on the rail having gone limp. Fingers brushed across your arm, just barely missing you. Your knees buckled, the edges of your vision had gone black, and the darkness slowly spread to steal away what sight you still had.

You were unconscious before you hit the bottom of the stairs.

“The person you are trying to reach is unavailable. Please leave a message after the beep.”

Rumi worried her lip between her teeth as the automated message rang back to her again. It was night; you had agreed to a phone call with her to catch up at ten o’clock sharp, and it was now ten minutes past that time, and you’d still not answered your phone.

There was a seed of worry that rooted itself inside of her. A swirling mess of what ifs filling her head. Did you forget about your promise to her? That seemed impossible; you never forgot a promise to Rumi, not in the many years you two had known each other. So why weren’t you answering?

Maybe you were just running late. Or lost track of time. But then you would have answered her texts, at least. Could something have happened to you?

Heart hammering in her chest, Rumi dialed your number again and waited, listening to the rings as she held her breath.

“The person you are trying to reach is unavailable. Please leave a message after the beep.”

She tapped her fingers against the phone case, pacing her room anxiously.

Did something happen? Celine would tell her if something happened to you. …Right? Right! So, why weren’t you answering your phone? Were you just busy studying? It wasn’t unusual for you to get so wrapped up in a study session with your classmates that you’d lose track of time, and you’d sometimes leave your phone on silent during those periods just to minimize distractions.

But to be studying this late? Even you didn’t often stay at study groups this late into the night. You might be working on papers and homework, but you wouldn’t leave your phone on silent for those.

“The person you are trying to reach is unavailable. Please leave a message after the beep.”

It was fifteen after ten, now. Still nothing. The texts she had sent you were unread. The calls were going to voicemail.

“The person you are trying to reach is unavailable. Please leave a message after the beep.” “The person you are trying to reach is unavailable. Please leave a message after the beep.” “The person you are trying to reach is unavailable. Please leave a message after the beep.”

“Asleep,” Rumi decided, swallowing back her worries.

You’d just…gone to bed early, exhausted from all the work you were doing, and forgot to tell her. You’d reach out to her in the morning, apologizing for missing the call, assuring her everything was okay, and then Rumi’s anxieties could be put to rest.

She tried to convince herself, but it still felt like there was a lead ball in her stomach.

You didn’t call her the following morning. Her texts remained unread.

You didn’t call her in the afternoon, or even the evening.

Rumi felt her worries worsen. Her calls continued to go to voicemail. Continued to get nothing but silence from you.

One day passed. Then two.

On the third day, Rumi couldn’t conceal the anxiety enough to keep Mira and Zoey from noticing. Had to put on a fake smile, tell them she was just worried about if they were meeting Celine’s expectations, if they were doing enough, if this was enough to strengthen the Honmoon.

She felt guilty as they assured her and comforted her, but she couldn’t bring herself to admit the truth. That she was afraid something might have happened to you, that you might have…forgotten her.

On the fifth day, she got a text.

-I’m so sorry for the radio silence!!-

-My phone went missing; I’ve been going crazy trying to find it! I swear I wasn’t ignoring you!!-

-Please forgive me? 🥺-

Heart racing in her chest, Rumi immediately went to call you, bringing the phone to her ear with a shaking hand, listening to it ring before—

Silence. Rejected.

The quiet chime of another text.

-Can’t, sorry!!-

-I’m sick with the flu, I sound really gross rn-

Maybe Rumi should have questioned that more, should have been suspicious.

But she was just too happy to hear back from you after so much silence that she let it slide. If you were too sick to do a voice call, just wanted to text her instead—that was fine. That was more than fine. So long as she could talk to you.

-That’s okay!-

-Sorry to hear you're sick, hope you feel better soon :(-

-I’ve missed you a lot.-

-I’ve missed you, too ❤️-

-I love you so much, Rumi-

-Wow, a sudden confession?-

-What’d you do?-

-Nothing.-

-Just want to make sure you know I love you- 

Despite the whispering apprehension that still clung to her, Rumi found herself finally relaxing for the first time in days as she texted you. Even through messages, you were able to put her at ease, make her smile, and laugh with ease.

Her heart was still beating fast in her chest, but no longer from fear. Her cheeks felt warm as you told her you loved her.

-I love you too, dummy-

-Even if you accidentally ghosted me for almost a week-

-Month Seven-

You continued to talk to Rumi, but it felt like it had became sparse.

It was always through texts. Always one reason or another for why you couldn’t do a call. Sometimes with hours between responses, sometimes with a day or two. She wouldn’t lie and say she wasn’t still concerned about that.

Anytime Rumi tried to bring it up, you managed to deflect, redirecting the conversation somewhere else, distracting her until she forgot what she’d asked.

And when you didn’t divert, you insisted you were just busy—studying for classes, picking up a part-time job to cover expenses. You weren’t trying to ignore her; you were just so busy.

She would be a hypocrite if she shamed you for it; Rumi was busier than you most days, after all.

But then, each time you’d chase away all the worries and anxieties Rumi felt about what was going on, you'd leave her laughing and smiling like she always did, her chest warm with her love for you.

Rumi just had to hold out, though. One more month, a handful of shows and events left, and then she’d be back home, back with you. And then it wouldn't matter if you were texting or calling her.

God, she couldn’t wait to get you in her hands and cover your face in kisses. It was the very first thing on her to-do list for when she got back to Seoul and had all her stuff unpacked: Find and kiss you until you were both dizzy. Second on that list, mark you back up so people know you’re hers. Third on that list….

Well, safe to say Rumi was not planning on you and her leaving your apartment until the next morning.

Just thinking of it had her face flushed as she rolled around in bed, muffling her giggles. For as much fun as she was having on their tour, this final month couldn’t go by any faster.

-Month Eight-

Most of the six-hour flight back to Seoul was spent as all their flights were, with the girls burning off that final rush of energy with games and gossip. Recounting their favorite moments from the tour, their personal highlights, and then scrolling through social media to see what fun the fans had with the shows.

Rumi, in particular, was just a bundle of energy. Every mile the jet flew, every hour that passed, was bringing her closer home, bringing her closer back to you. It made her giddy; she couldn’t stop smiling even if she tried.

“I think this might be the happiest I’ve seen you since we went on tour,” Mira teased as she slipped into the seat next to Rumi. “That happy the tour’s over, or just riding the high of that final show?”

“I know I am!” Zoey agreed as she lay on the floor, limbs stretched out like a starfish. “The Honmoon—did you see how bright it got? It was soooo blue!”

Mira grinned down at her, “I don’t care what Celine might say, as far as I’m concerned, we are doing amazing, we’ll have it repaired in no time,” she declared, puffing out her chest. “There were barely any weak spots in it during that final show!”

She was right, Rumi thought. When Huntr/x first debuted, the Honmoon had been riddled with holes. Celine had done her very best to keep the barrier from crumbling completely, but with only one hunter remaining, all Celine could do was to slow the Honmoons' decay. But even slowed, twenty years was still a long time.

But now, even Rumi was sure that Celine would be proud of them. The Honmoon was growing healthier and stronger with every concert, every album and single, and every fan event. There were still tears and weak points, but the three were, as Mira had said, doing an amazing job of healing the Honmoon in record time.

“Celine is going to be proud of all of us,” Rumi said with certainty. The tour had been a success from start to finish; there was no way Celine couldn’t be proud of them.

Zoey threw a fist into the air. “Hell yeah! Maybe we can get her to buy us fried chicken to celebrate when we get back?”

“We definitely have earned it,” Mira agreed.

Rumi hid her smile behind a sleeve, watching the two warmly. “You two can have all the fried chicken you want when we get back. But I’ll be heading out once we land,” she said, waving them off. “I think I’ll take a trip back over to Jeju Island, visit the graveyard.” She didn’t need to say more; Mira and Zoey understood immediately.

Maybe it wasn’t the most tasteful lie to use her mother's grave as an excuse to sneak off to see her partner, but it was an easy one to come up with. It would give her a believable reason to be gone for the rest of the night, after all.

Though…it ended up being an unnecessary lie.

As soon as the jet landed and they disembarked, the very first thing Rumi spotted was Celine waiting for them. Her first instinct was that Celine had come to greet them, to congratulate them, just as happy for their successful tour as the girls were.

But, no.

Rumi knew something was wrong the moment she saw the somber look on the woman’s face.

Their mentor approached them, her expression unchanged, her pace quick, urgent.

“Congratulations on your tour,” she said to them, her words stiff, painfully obvious that it was more a formality than anything. She glanced at Mira, and then at Zoey. “We can talk more about it tomorrow. You girls enjoy your break. Rumi can join you later.”

Tense, stiff, barely any words at all, but the silent command of ‘you’re coming with me,’ rang clear.

Mira took a step forward. “Why do you need Rumi so soon? We literally just landed,” she pointed out, poised to step between them, as if worried Celine was going to run their leader through more training already.

Celine matched her gaze but said nothing.

Clearly, whatever happened was serious and not something Celine wanted to discuss with the others. That only served to worry Rumi. But still, she stepped forward, placing a hand on Mira’s shoulder.

“Family stuff,” she said softly. “As I said, I was planning to visit Miyeong’s grave.”

Mira relaxed just a little, gave the smallest of nods. “…Right. Well, if you need Zoey or me, just give us a call, okay?”

She nodded, bidding her two friends goodbye as she followed Celine to her car.

It was a quiet, awkward drive, to tell the truth. Celine said nothing, explained nothing, and Rumi knew better than to poke and prod and demand answers. But the tension was painfully obvious as she drove.

Celine was upset, she was angry, she was…scared. Rumi could count the number of times she’d seen Celine look like all three of those on one hand.

Her concern continued to grow.

Just what happened while she was gone?

Slowly, Celine pulled the car into a large parking lot, and it took Rumi a moment to realize that they were at a hospital. Brows furrowed, she turned to her mentor.

“Why are we here?”

“There was…a…” she started, before stumbling to a stop.

A moment passed, and then Celine let out a deep exhale before turning to face Rumi, carefully taking one of Rumi’s hands into her own. She watched the girl, her expression full of grief and sympathy. “He’s sick, Rumi. Really sick.”

He…?

Slowly, dread started to seep into her. “Celine, who are you talking about? Who’s sick?” It was a stupid question; they didn’t know many ‘hes’ who she could be referring to. But she had to know. Had to be sure.

Celine’s expression only softened, turning apologetic. That was all the confirmation Rumi needed.

Tearing her hand from Celine’s grip, Rumi was out of the car, running towards the hospital, ignoring her mother shouting for her to wait. Rumi couldn’t wait. Wouldn’t wait. You were in there. You were sick enough that you were hospitalized.

Why did no one tell her? Why?!

She grabbed the first nurse she saw after rushing in, demanding, begging, to know where your room was, and barely restrained herself from running in the halls to reach it. Her nails began digging into her palms, her heart racing in her chest, drowning out everything else as she moved.

You were sick, Celine had told her. She didn’t tell you what kind of sick. What the extent was. Rumi hadn’t given her the chance.

It left her unprepared for the sight she was met with entering your room.

Her legs felt weak as she walked towards you, the sound of the vitals monitor beside you a deafening sound in her ears. Her eyes were only on you, however.

Lying in bed, you looked so small. So frail. You’d lost weight, she noted. You had lost a lot of weight. Practically skin and bones, your face having gone gaunt. There were dark bags under your sunken eyes, your skin having lost color.

An IV drip sat by your bedside, the quiet drip, drip, drip from multiple bags. Multiple medications. You had nasal cannulas at your nose, helping you breathe.

Rumi dropped to her knees beside the bed, a shaking hand hovering over you. You didn’t respond, eyes closed as you slept—not even a peaceful sleep, if the tension in your own expression was to go by.

Her vision blurred, her cheeks felt wet.

“How long?”

That was all she said when Celine entered the room, standing behind her.

Celine hesitated, then knelt on the ground beside Rumi. “He was hospitalized about two months ago, I don’t know how long beyond that.”

Two months ago.

Rumi let out a wet, pitiful laugh. “Lost his phone, my ass,” she bit out, digging her nails into her own thighs. Was that when you were admitted? Was that why you went silent on her out of nowhere? All the times you took a while to answer her were because you were in the hospital.

And yet…you never once told her.

Her shoulders started to shake. “He’s going to be okay, right?” she asked, her voice cracking. “He’s…he’s fine. He just needs some medicine and rest, and then he’ll be back to normal…right?”

In a flash, Rumi was tucked up into Celine’s chest, held tight in her warm arms. “He’s very sick, Rumi,” she murmured, running her fingers along Rumi’s back to soothe her. “He starts getting better, and then he... The doctors are doing everything they can, but…I don’t know.”

That wasn’t the answer Rumi wanted. How could it possibly be the right answer?

Not a sound was made while Rumi cried, pressing her face into Celine’s shoulder, holding onto her as though she might break if she let go. She didn’t want to lose you. She couldn’t lose you.

“I’m going to stay here,” Rumi said after…she wasn’t sure how long had passed while she cried in Celine’s arms. Minutes? Hours? Her voice felt hoarse enough for it to have been that long, and Celine’s blazer was well soaked with tears. “I need to stay here.”

Celine watched her for a moment and then nodded. “I’ll work with Bobby, make sure no one bothers you. If you…” she hesitated, cupping Rumi’s cheek. Rumi could tell that Celine’s heart was breaking just as much. “If you need anything, I’m just a call away.”

The only thing Rumi needed was the one thing Celine couldn’t provide.

You woke up, not for the first time, to the smell of disinfectant and the quiet hums and beeps of machines. Your entire body hurt, each breath you took left your chest tingling and lungs aching, and your head throbbing just enough to leave cobwebs in your skull and your vision a little blurry.

It was night, you faintly noticed, or rather, late evening. You could see the pink and orange hues in the sky from your window. You weren’t sure exactly how long you had been asleep for; you only knew you were still tired. According to the doctor, that was normal. Your body was burning through all its energy fighting off this sickness.

It took you a while longer to notice that there was something different in your room; another weight to the bed.

Tired and sluggish as you were, you turned your head and were met with the surprise of Rumi slumped over in the chair next to the bed, head resting on the mattress as she slept.

The mix of emotions hit you hard. Enough to send your stomach churning, leaving you thinking that you might throw up.

You hadn’t expected to see Rumi.

Obviously, you were happy to see her, would always be happy, no matter the situation. That was just the unfortunate side effect of loving her. But you hated that she was here. You hadn’t wanted to see her, not so soon, not here. Not when you looked like a husk compared to when she had left for her tour.

But…God, she looked terrible.

Even asleep, you could see the discomfort and anxiety written across her face, the way her expression was pinched in discomfort. There were bags under her eyes like she hadn’t been sleeping, along with tear stains. Her hair and clothes were in a state of dishevelment you rarely saw her in.

She looked like this because of you, you were sure.

Maybe, though…just maybe…this was a dream. A hallucination.

Maybe the real Rumi was still out of the country, still on tour, and you were just imagining this one because of how much you missed her. You think you would prefer that. Kept company by a hallucination rather than Rumi knowing what was going on.

Swallowing hard, you reached out to touch her, to confirm that this was all just a dream.

The moment your fingers brushed against her hair, Rumi jolted up, nearly knocking your hand away in the motion, cutting down any delusions and hopes you had that she might not be real.

Her eyes were wide as she stared at you.

“Y-you’re awake!” Rumi stammered in disbelief, barely able to remember to keep her voice down, her hands shaking with the urge to grab you before she forced them down to grip your blanket instead, her knuckles turning white.

You blinked at her, letting your hand fall back to the bed. What did you even say in this situation? Apologize for making her come here? Tell her how much you’ve missed her while she was on tour? Your brain was too foggy to even come up with a joke to defuse the tension. “Rumi—"

Rumi didn’t give you a chance to say anything.

“Are—are you okay?” she asked, her voice trembling as she barreled into one question after the other, barely giving pause to breathe between them. “How are you feeling—do you need a nurse? Does anything hurt? Do you need any water? Food? Or—do you—”

Her words stumbled to a stop, her expression that of open fear, of barely restrained panic, eyes wet. Her heart was hammering in her chest as she watched you, wanting to help you, make things better, but not knowing how.

A long few moments of silence went by, filled only by the beeping of the monitors beside you as you watched her. You looked so small, so tired. She hated seeing you like this. “…When did you get here?”

Rumi’s hands curled into fists, shaking as she gripped the hospital blanket. “Last night. You’ve been asleep the whole time,” she answered, looking away from you. Her shoulders trembled—she wasn’t going to cry, she wasn’t going to let her, not here, not in front of you.  “Celine…Celine told me what happened as soon as the plane landed.”

You were a…little disappointed. When Celine came to visit you after you first woke up, you had begged her not to tell Rumi. Celine had agreed because she, like you, hadn’t wanted to distract Rumi with news of your hospitalization in the middle of her tour. Maybe it was pessimistic, but the tour was more important. Far more important.

You just wished Celine had waited longer to tell Rumi. That she hadn’t told her the moment she came back. You would have rather Rumi had time to herself, time to celebrate, before you had to ruin things for her.

Still, something in you tightened. “Then…” your voice felt so rough, it scratched at your own ears. “…were you with me the whole time?”

Looking back up at you, Rumi swallowed hard and gave a small, shy nod.

Of course, she would have been. You’re not sure why you would have thought otherwise. But…all that did was make you feel more guilty.

She shouldn’t have spent her return from tour sitting beside you in a hospital room. She should have been out celebrating with Mira, Zoey, and Bobby; she should have been relaxing after a stressful handful of months; she shouldn’t have had to spend the first day back crying in a hospital because of you.

The bed creaked as you pushed yourself up. Such a simple, everyday motion, and yet it hurt so much to do, your body protesting with every small movement. You were careful of the tubes and wires that connected to you as you moved.

“H-hey, wait!” Rumi stood up, hands poised to push you back down, “You’re—you shouldn’t be moving so much, let me grab a wheelchair for you—”

The blankets were pulled back, and you had moved to lie on your side, creating space on the bed. “Come here,” you murmured. “It can’t be comfortable sleeping in that chair.”

Rumi hesitated a moment, staring at the spot you’d made for her, then to the wires and finally to your tired, pleading face.

Then she slipped off her shoes and slowly crawled into bed. Each movement slow, careful, clearly afraid she might hurt you if she moved wrong.

But the moment she had gotten close enough, you had wrapped your arms around her shoulders, pulling her closer, tucking her head into your chest, resting your cheek against the top of her own head.

This…wasn’t how either of you had wanted to reunite, not your first choice to sleep together at. You’d rather this had taken place in your own bed back at your apartment, not in a hospital bed, not like this.

“…Is this okay? Are you uncomfortable?” Rumi asked after a moment. With her head against you as it was, she could hear your heartbeat, slow and strong, comforting. “I don’t want to damage anything or knock out any of the tubes you have.”

“It’s fine.”

Rumi nodded, swallowing hard, she slowly wrapped her arms around you in return. “Do you hurt at all?”

“Mhm…a little. It’s not too bad,” you said softly in return. “Maybe it’s because of all the pain meds.” You could ignore all the pain with Rumi here, just so you could avoid letting her see you in such a sorry state.

The silence dragged on for a few more moments, filled only by the sound of the machines in the room. You could feel the way Rumi’s hands were shaking as they rested on your back.

“…How long?”

You opened your eyes, staring at the wall across from you. “Just before you left for your tour. I got the official, ‘final’ diagnosis three weeks later.” You paused, then gave a soft sigh. “…I’m sorry I broke my promise the moment I made it.”

The way Rumi was grinding her teeth was audible. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“You would have come running back home if I had.”

“You say that like it would have been the wrong choice,” Rumi didn’t mean to snap, but she did, biting her lip hard enough she could taste copper. “You…you were sick. I should have been here for you.”

Shaking your head, you held Rumi tighter. “No, you shouldn’t have.”

“What?”

Another sigh, tired. Your throat ached from so much talking, you felt out of breath already. But you pushed on.

“This was your first tour, Rumi, you couldn’t just…just cancel an entire tour. It was too important; for your career, for the Honmoon,” you reminded her, your voice still quiet, too tired and too raw to raise it any higher. “I know…I don’t fully understand how this works. The magic. The Honmoon. But you said this tour would be critical for healing it. No matter how you look at it, that was far more important.”

Rumi tightened her grip, her nails sank into your back almost hard enough to hurt. “Don’t,” she choked back a sob. You could feel the front of your hospital shirt grow damp. “Don’t say it like that. Like you’re not important, too.”

But, I’m not, you wanted to say.

Compared to the Honmoon, compared to protecting the lives of all of humanity from soul-snatching demons…you really weren’t that important. You shouldn’t be as important.

You didn’t want to become that kind of weakness for her; someone she’d readily put the masses at risk for.

Closing your eyes again, you pressed your face to her hair, inhaling the smell of lavender from her shampoo and soap. Familiar scents you had missed these last almost-year. “I missed you," you settled on, instead.

Rumi let out a whimper pressing her face further into your shoulder.

Don’t cry, you thought as you held her. Please don’t cry. Not over me. Not over this.

You hated this. Everything about this. Hated how you wanted so badly to cry, too, to just break down in her arms. To let out all the pain and emotions you’ve been bottling up these past eight months.

But, no. You weren’t going to let yourself.

Rumi deserved better than that, then to see you break down. She deserved better than…than this. Than an anchor.

“I…understand, if this is too much,” you mumbled, feeling your throat closing up around your own words. “If you don’t want to…don’t want to deal with…this…I completely understand. I won’t hold it against you, I promise.”

Rumi pulled back, staring up at you with wide eyes. “What are you saying?”

Reaching out, you pushed a few strands of hair that had broken free from her braid out of her face, and smiled. Soft, gentle, and hollow.

“You don’t have to stay with someone who has an expiration date,” you answered. “You’re…you’re free to leave, Rumi. You have a bright future, a busy life; I don’t expect you to put your life on hold, I won’t keep you tethered to me.”

You were still smiling as you looked away from her, staring at the generic hospital poster on the wall. “Statistically, a large number of relationships turn sour when a serious illness gets thrown in the mix,” you explained, and squeezed out a laugh. “I’d rather we at least end on a more…positive note.”

“You’re…you want to break up?”

Rumi’s voice came out so small, so heartbroken—it shattered something inside of you, and took everything you had to not take everything back.

“I don’t want you to stay because you feel obligated to. I don’t want us to end up resenting each other when I don’t get better.”

“I could never hate you,” Rumi shot back, pushing herself up now to tower over you, her eyes were red and glistening with tears. How was it she looked more pitiable in the moment than you? “Being sick isn’t going to make me hate you!”

Maybe that was true for now, Rumi certainly believed it would be true forever. But…you couldn’t trust ‘forever’ anymore.

“I’m just trying to be practical—”

“No, you’re not!” Rumi interrupted, and you couldn’t help the way you flinched. “You’re being a coward!”

The tears were falling now, her arms shaking as she held herself up. “You’re just trying to run away, because you’re scared of what might happen. That’s not being practical! That’s just…” she bit back a frustrated grow, her shaking had spread to her shoulders. “Pushing everyone away, isolating yourself—that isn’t going to help you!”

You couldn’t look her in the eyes, you felt too seen. Exposed. “That’s not…” you started swallowing hard. “You shouldn’t yell. We’re in a hospital.”

Rumi didn’t hold back the snarl this time, fangs glinting in the dim light of the setting sun. “You are not changing the subject,” at least she was quieter this time as she hissed at you. “And we are not breaking up just because you think this will be ‘hard’ on our relationship.”

“I don’t think it will be, I know it will be,” You countered back. “Rumi, you’re busy. Don’t pretend otherwise. You’re an idol, you’re a hunter, and you love both. You love the time spent with fans and at shows, you enjoy the thrill of hunting and protecting people. You don’t have the time to play caretaker, and I don’t want you giving up time that could be spent on things you love just to be here.”

“That’s not for you to say,” she snapped. “Yeah, I love all of that, but I wouldn’t be giving up time I could spend on ‘things I love’, because I love you more than all of them. I wouldn’t be staying out of obligation; I’d be staying because I love you and want to be here for you!”

Swallowing hard, you looked away from her again. You could hear the way the heart monitor machine was beeping more quickly, echoing the way your heart was racing.

“I…” your voice trembled, choked. “I don’t want to hold you back, Rumi. Please, I don’t want to… your career, your duties, I don’t want to keep you from any of them.”

“And you think breaking up wont get in the way?” Rumi challenged back. “You think I’d be able to function if you cut me out of your life? You promised you wouldn’t regret this, us. You want to break that promise, too? You want me to break it?”

You said nothing.

Slowly, Rumi lowered herself back to the bed, pulling you into her arms, pressing your head to her shoulder. “I’m staying, you can make every excuse you want for why I shouldn’t. I’m not leaving you, and I'm not going to regret this, either.”

She said it so earnestly, you...you wanted to believe her.

With a shaking hand, you slowly latched on to her jacket. “You…” your voice trembled, came out raspier. “You really won’t…you won’t regret this? You won’t leave just because things will be difficult?”

Rumi’s hold on you was gentle, tender. “I won’t,” she swore. “I’m not going to give up being an idol or a hunter, but I’m still going to be right here at your side every minute that I can. You’re not getting rid of me, no matter how hard you try.”

Fuck.

You were crying, now.

You had been trying so hard not to, but the tears were falling freely now, and you couldn’t stop the way you began letting out hitched and choked breaths, fighting back the sobs.

“Promise…promise you won’t grow to hate me if I don’t get better?”

“I promise,” Rumi answered immediately, rubbing soothing circles on your back. “I could never hate you.”

You took in a shaking breath as you pressed your face to her shoulder, gripping her tighter, afraid she might slip through your fingers if you let go. “I’m sorry,” you apologized. “I don’t want you to leave, I don’t want to break up.”

“Good.” Rumi was shaking too, holding you just as tight as she pressed a kiss to your temple.

“I’m not letting you go. Not now. Not ever,” she swore. “You’re going to make it through this; you’re going to beat this—and I’ll be at your side every step of the way. You can lean on me whenever it gets hard. Whatever you need—I’ll be here. So promise…promise you won’t try to push me away again.”

You let out a tired, defeated laugh. “…I don’t think I have it in me to even try that again,” you admitted. Seeing how broken and devastated Rumi had been just now when you tried…you wouldn’t be able to endure doing that to her again.

“You didn’t promise.”

Ah, she was right. You hadn’t promised, yet.

You smiled, laughing again, feeling something unlodge in your chest. “I promise that I won’t push you away again,” you said softly. “I promise that I’ll never let you go again.”

Even if you couldn’t see her face, you knew she was smiling, felt it in the way her mouth pressed to your head. “I promise that I’ll stay by your side, forever, no matter what comes,” Rumi replied, echoing the words of a six-year-old boy who had declared his love before he even knew what those feelings were.

Sinking into her embrace, you let your eyes close, exhaustion washing over you. “You’ll…you’ll still be here when I wake up?”

“They’re going to have to drag me out to keep me away,” Rumi whispered back, nuzzling against your head. You chuckled at the mental image.

The future, however little of it you might have, wasn’t as scary if Rumi was with you.

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[imagine-that-babey]

Imagine Dean threatening your father after you came out and he said he was going to kill you

"Family dramas a bitch ain't it?"

"Dean, please- just leave it."

[daydreaminginmonochrome]

Here I come, presenting more yandere headcanons for the boyfriend au for Rumi, and even a couple for Celine as a treat.

As mentioned before, Rumi's obsession with you started young. Because how could she not develop one? This girl was raised, unintentional as it may have been on Celine's part, thinking she was wrong, broken, a thing to be ashamed of.

And then here comes Reader, who treats her like she's the coolest, greatest thing ever, who makes her feel like she's something wonderful, something to be loved and treasured. You take all her flaws, you learn about her patterns, and you never once treat her like something to fear and shun for them. You embrace all of her.

She’s fallen in love with you before she’s even known what any of it means.

Remember the silly backyard gummy ring proposal? Telling her that you wanted to stay together forever with all the genuine earnestly that a child could possess? Well, Rumi does, and she is determined to make that wish a reality, to ensure you two stay together, forever, no matter what.

Makes you promises that she's the only friend you ever need. Definitely scares off any other kids she thinks might be getting too close to you.

Needless to say, Seong mysteriously stops hanging out with you not too long after Rumi meets her. This is a common occurrence with friends who get just a little too close, but you don't really notice.

You grew up with her special brand of 'clinginess' that you don't even register it as a red flag anymore. This is just how Rumi is with the people she cares about. she's protective of them and is afraid of losing them. Nothing to worry about.

Whaaaat? Obsessed??? Nah, that's crazy talk, she's just really affectionate. You dont think there’s anything wrong with that, and she’s always super sweet with you.

Rumi is a pro at masking. Had to hide all these feelings from Celine because otherwise she'd take Rumi away from you. Has to hide the full extent of her love from you because she doesn't want to scare you off.

The hardest is hiding from the public because she wants the entire world to know you're off limits and man she is hit with a jealous flare of ferocity when she sees people get close to you.

You two start dating a lot sooner than in the fic, because Rumi does not have the self control to not seize the opportunity the very moment she suspects her feelings are reciprocated.

Becomes so much more clingy once you two start dating. Any time she’s not training or working is spent with you in some capacity. Phone calls late into the night, dates while disguised. She leaves a necklace of bruises and teeth marks across your neck every chance she gets.

But this also means going on her first world tour has her far more stressed out because of how long she’ll be away from you for. She has to be talked out of smuggling you onto the jet.

Gets even more antsy if you don’t reply to her texts or calls quick enough. The paranoia she’s got during this tour is through the roof.

You going radio silent for almost a week after being hospitalized? The first day you don't respond to her text or calls and Rumi's ready to head back to Seoul to find out what’s going on. The longer the silence goes on, the more her worry shifts to anger as her imagination starts coming up with reasons why you’re ignoring her.

By the time she does come back after another two months, learning that you've been in the hospital this entire time? That Celine didn't tell her???

Girl is crashing out, maybe even lashing out at her mentor. Celine is lucky she’s the better hunter between them because there would be blood otherwise.

It gets even worse when you suggest breaking up bc you don’t want to be an anchor. Because oh boy, no, no, no, that was the wrong thing to say.

Might be the first time you see past the cracks in her mask as Rumi pins you to the hospital bed and tells you in no uncertain terms that you are not breaking up with her.

You promised: together forever, and you being sick changes nothing. Breaking up isn't an option.

You are hers, in sickness and in health, and you’re not going anywhere unless she says you can.

You're more than a little concerned. Relieved she wants to stay with you, but also lowkey scared bc this is a side of her you've never seen.

RIP for the poor staff, Rumi is gonna be stuck to you like glue, glaring down at any nurse or doctor who she thinks is being too friendly.

Celine absolutely had a late-stage yandere awakening. After all, she was able to give you up initially, when she went on to begin training as a Sunlight Sister,

Of course there was the jealousy when she was dating you the first time around. But nothing she would have thought extreme. Just the usual jealous girlfriend who didn't like the idea of someone taking you away from her.

Then, when you made it big as a rockstar, it was a simmering jealousy over the girls gossip magazines were regularly suggesting you were with.

Alongside the jealousy was growing anger at herself for letting you go, a bitterness and a wish to undo that decision so she could have kept you with her.

It's only after you retire because of the heart attack and the two reconcile, that the yandere business truly starts up.

She gave you up once, almost lost you permanently, she's not taking the chance of losing you again. Can't take that chance.

Justifies it as her being protective, refuses to acknowledge that it might be something more dangerous.

Reader absolutely notices this behavior. Like this is Rockstar Reader, of course you're gonna notice the little changes in Celine's behavior around you, the way she kind of hovers, the way she glowers when you're with others like she doesn't want to share.

At first brushes it off as 'Celine's changed since we were dumb teens, you just have to get used to the new her', not wanting to jump to conclusions, thinking that maybe things will calm down with time.

But nope, the red flags stay raised.

This woman is both happy to see how well you get along with her girls, but also maybe a little jealous of how much of your time is spent with them when it should be with her.

She might be pulling a few strings to keep them just busy enough that they don't get to spend too much time with you.

Unfortunately, even if you know the situation you're in, Celine's not going to let you go, and has the means to make sure you can't go

Whether you want to stay or not, you are stuck here, with her.

[daydreaminginmonochrome]

Could I please get headcanons of Mira with a secret nerdy boyfriend?

Secret Boyfriend HCs

Tags: Mira/Reader, M!Reader, Nerdy!Reader, Secret Relationships, Dorks In Love, HCs.

You and Mira met in your second year of high school. You both went to the same private school, but didn’t share any classes—rather, you two went to the same cram school together by chance.

You two officially met when one day, by chance again, you were seated beside Mira during cram school. You’d turned to her and asked if she wanted to see your T-Rex. “It’s pretty big,” you had said.

Naturally, Mira had an idea of what your ‘T-Rex’ was and had been poised to tell you to fuck off.

Imagine her surprise when you held up your phone to show a photo of a Lego T-Rex you had built. It was, indeed, pretty big, and you were incredibly proud of it.

Cue Mira’s curiosity piqued and the rest of the time waiting for class to start spent with you showing off all the other photos of the Lego models you’d built.

This continued for a few a week or two more before you started seeking each other out between classes at school to talk about what’s going on.

You were someone Mira was able to vent to about the friction she had with her parents and brother, and have someone who would listen—truly listen—to what she had to say. You didn't try to provide unsolicited advice and solutions, you just sat there and listened. Let her say what she needed to say, and let her know everything she felt, everything she thought, was valid, was heard.

Meanwhile, Mira could listen to you talk about Warhammer and Star Wars lore for hours, even if she didn’t understand it, you got so passionate when you started talking that it was just mesmerizing to listen to.

Even though Mira was the stereotypical cool girl, the ‘cooler than you’ kind of gal. You weren’t even her usual type. And yet you two fit so perfectly together that it felt natural that your friendship shifted into dating. She is the tall, cool badass woman, and you're just some dude who managed to pull this Queen by being a genuinely sweet and lovable dork.

Unfortunately, once Mira started training to become an idol, your relationship had to become hush-hush. If you two were going to keep dating, it had to be secret, the public could not know.

For the most part you two made it work.

It was too risky to go out together in public, so for the most part your relationship had been relegated to late night calls and text messages. Facetiming each other. On the rare occasion Mira had the free time to go on a date, you two keep it quiet. Mira in her disguises, you treating her to dinner at quiet, secluded little restaurants or taking her to the theaters where no one will notice her.

The downside is that it's hard to keep a relationship a secret when living with two very observant hunters.

Zoey and Rumi notice the way Mira gets happy after certain text messages, or how she excuses herself to another room only for certain phone calls, coming back in a better mood than when she left, coming up with vague explanations for who she was talking to.

Mira trying to sneak back in to the penthouse after a date with you, only to find Rumi and Zoey waiting for her in the dark like a pair of disapproving parents, and her having to come up with a quick excuse of patrolling for demons or smth.

They don't buy it, because Mira is dressed a little too nicely for a patrol, but Mira's managed to redirect the conversation to something else before retreating to her room.

Needless to say, you are a Huntr/x fan. Whether you were into Kpop or not before dating Mira doesn't matter, because you are her biggest fan, and Mira pretends that it doesn't get her flustered when you start talking about how amazing she was during a show or how beautiful her voice and dances are.

You don't tell Mira when you're going to be attending one of her concerts, you like to keep it a surprise. Whenever Mira sees you cheering in the front rows, she ends up putting even more effort into the performance. It takes all her self control after the concert to not find and drag you backstage so she can smother you in kisses.

You know it's hard to spoil someone who can easily buy whatever she wants, but that doesn't stop you from trying, buying her chokers and bracelets because they reminded you of her (and Mira is constantly buying you things in return. You so much as look at something too long and she's already pulling out her credit card. She is financing all your hobbies at this point)

You tried introducing her to Dungeon's and Dragons once. It did not go well. Not because Mira hated it, but because she got too invested in the campaign you were DMing, and ended up forgetting the choreography she was supposed to be building.

You and Mira got matching plushies that you cuddle in place of each other at night since you can't spend the nights with each other yet.

Bobby already knows about you, he's agreed to keep it a secret from everyone because you make Mira happy and his girls being happy is his top priority.

Tagged Users: @rumiskimbap @wisteria-w1sp @koda-lupinn @lbcreations-blog @t-wylia @tinysoap @fandomgoddes05 @needygir1106 @nagapabubumjuoogi @shinyakii @the-abyss05 @cra96 @tejakabuttons @alexkolax @aymmgreen @moontides19 @megamultifandomtrashposts @zhivaxo @ooremey @listlesslylistening @lonely-nerd-sodaholic @pinkaliciousx @viitalvile @screechcat @cherry--00 @waltermis @natashasilverfox @goldebloom1977 @mikalechip00 @hjdemeritt95 @labellewolf13 @weirdoillustrates @tigerlillyruiz @wandamaximoff-simp @algae122 @beneaththetides @avocado-sammich @katincompatible @killuafreakss @ireblongstuff

[daydreaminginmonochrome]

Ooh, I had an idea for angst to fluff with sick bf and Rumi!

What if the Saja Boys follow Rumi to the hospital when she's visiting because, even though the Honmoon is unraveling, she *swore* to be there for her bf. If the Honmoon is falling apart, then she might as well visit when she can right?

When the Saja Boys leak the photos, sick bf is devastated and starts to apologize for something that isn't his fault. Rumi, however, has had enough of hiding and tells their entire story with the artful grace of someone media trained by Celine.

Now, you'd think that Huntr/x's fans would be upset. They were not, because I imagine they're amazing fans who wouldn't be upset at the parasocial illusion breaking and would be more happy their idol has loved someone like a fairy tale all these years. Rumi just has to talk about sick bf and the Honmoon would repair itself a little bit, her genuine love and devotion moving the fans to the point it manifests in the magic barrier.

On top of that, that fanart and shipping of her and Jinu? Gone within the hour, replaced with her and her sick bf and the larger than life love they share. Genuinely makes her sick bf cry.

The Saja Boys realize they screwed up, and that no one could have ever stood a chance to get between you and Rumi.

The Saja boys after leaking the photo: this will tank Huntrxs popularity for sure! Wait, why is the Honmoon getting stronger???

But for real so long as their fandom isn’t crazy toxic in being parasocial, this would improve their reputation. The cancelled golden concert? Rumi’s boyfriend must have had a medical emergency she had to be there for him for. All these photos now that Celine is strategically releasing of you two growing up, now that the initial reception was positive? including one of Rumi showing off the gummy ring after you first proposed ?? You two are the internets new OTP.

I’m just imagining that Sick BF also suddenly starts getting a flood of gift baskets and get well soon cards from Huntrxs fans. They want you to be healthy again so you can be with Rumi.

The hilarity of if this is also how Mira and Zoey find out. Gotta corner Rumi after like you’ve had a secret boyfriend this whole time? What else aren’t you telling us?? “Well, about that…”

[daydreaminginmonochrome]

With rockstar reader having a heart attack, I imagine the reason why they're still smiling is they just finished a song off their setlist and they're going off the adrenaline high of rocking their heart out. Then, they just keel over right then and there - one moment they're alive, and the next they're dead in front of thousands.

But! Imagine if this was after the Idol Awards? Celine is working so, so hard to repair her relationship with Rumi, with Huntrix, and has finally managed to get them to come over for dinner. Everything is going well, she's slowly repairing the bridges she burned. It seems like with effort that everything could be perfect. She could be perfect.

Then Mira drops her phone after checking it.

Celine didn't hear much of anything after that, couldn't recall anything beyond the sound of her heart shattering at the sight on Mira's phone on her floor.

This couldn't be real. This couldn't be happening.

There you were, after so many years, but not as she remembered you. You weren't that thirteen year old boy she fell maddeningly in love with, that seventeen year old boy whose heart she broke as she left a part of her heart with him. The image wasn't of you as the larger-than-life rockstar or the charitable philanthropist.

You were small, frail, being loaded into the back of an ambulance without any signs of life. Shirt open, nodes and wires connected to your skin, an oxygen mask over your face and, maybe she was overthinking, maybe the photo didn't catch it, but you weren't breathing. The title of the article gave her proof to her nightmare.

BREAKING NEWS: Y/N L/N has STEMI heart attack on stage, in critical condition.

When you wake up, she's there. It takes you a while to return to reality, to be able to even speak, but when you do? It's like even the most severe heart attack wouldn't have been able to stop you loving her.

"I must be dead." You said. "Because I woke up to an angel..."

Celine takes your hand and presses her cheek to it, openly crying with relief that you were alive.

Celine’s reaction to the news is probably how the girls find out that she even knew you, they may not fully understand to what extent, but the way Celine will likely immediately take off to the hospital you were taken to is very telling.

The fact that the very first thing you do upon waking up is to flirt with a woman you haven’t seen in decades is just so hilarious and fitting lmao. Bet those heart rate monitor machines you’re hooked up to are going off like crazy once you see Celine.

[daydreaminginmonochrome]

I found the perfect image for Mira and Nerdy!BF while mindlessly scrolling

[daydreaminginmonochrome]

The girls as yanderes with their boyfriends is such a delicious idea, I'm obsessed.

Like you said, Rumi's obsession has time to grow since she's known sick!bf from a young age. She would be able to normalize her more obsessive and possessive nature as a yandere much easier than Zoey or Mira would. That would make her the hardest to escape in the scenario. I also love the idea of her having to hide the worst of her tendencies from Celine cuz she knows Celine would probably step in to stop her and she can't have that.

I love to imagine the slow build up Zoey would have when it comes to popular!bf. Poor girl is already insecure and scared he's going to suddenly realize that she's too much and just leave her.I can see it start out so small and subtle no one really notices it, not even Zoey. It starts off with her learning about all his interests because of course she would, he did the same for her so she's just her turning the favor. The thing that really kicks off her obsession is people constantly flirting with him. She's going to need to know where he is all the time, leading to her more obsessive tendencies. Plus people can't flirt with her boyfriend if she scares them off or better yet get rid of them in some fashion. I can see her going after Tracy and Brett when she has the resources from becoming the biggest pop star. She's especially vicious towards Tracy because of the consonant flirting Tracy did while Zoey is away.

Like Zoey, Mira's yandere tendencies are slow to grow with nerdy!bf. He's the first person to see past the walls she's put up and she can't let anyone take him away from her. Hers start early on when she starts thinking of him as her nerd. As their friendship grows her more possessive side slowly grows, she starts to think of him as just hers. Period point blank. She needs to stay by his side because he needs her. He is hers to protect and she'll be damned if someone puts themselves between her and him. She'll go after anyone who's hurt him with precision.

You're so right about the Celine bit. If Celine caught on to Rumi developing a not-so-healthy obsession with her reader while still raising/training her, she would have done what she could to put a stop to it immediately, maybe even thinking it's a byproduct of her demon half. She'd probably take Rumi and move somewhere far away to make sure Rumi and Sick!BF don't see each other again to prevent Rumi from hurting him, and Rumi knows this. But, Rumi is by and far the best at masking her obsessive, yandere tendencies. She's also gonna be 100xs more protective once sick!bf gets sick.

I do really love the idea of Zoey's yandere/obsession kicking in as a result of her own insecurities. Here she is, the outcast at school, and then to her shock popular!BF takes a liking to her. He listens to her, he wants to spend time with her, actively stands up for her to the other kids even at the cost of his own reputation among their peers. Of course she's not going to want to lose this amazing shining star of a person from her life, is gonna do everything in her power to make sure he can't be taken away.

Mira I feel is probably gonna take the longest out of the three to even have the self-awareness kick in to even realize she's become possessive over Nerdy!BF. In her mind she's just keeping her best friend safe, so of course she needs to stick by him at all times and keep everyone else away. It's probably only when she starts to realize that he's going to have to leave her at some point for his military service that she realizes just how much she hates the idea of him being away from her.