Chapter Text
Even though Zoey kept saying she was fine, Rumi couldn’t stop replaying the moment in her head. The sound of Zoey choking, the terror in her eyes, Rumi’s own claws around Zoey’s neck and the blood coming out of the latter’s delicate skin – every detail haunted the eldest. She almost killed Zoey – her precious friend.
Mira, on the other hand, didn’t know the whole truth. All she had were Zoey’s quick explanations: the marks on her neck, the blood – all ‘just the demon’s doing’. As for why Rumi looked pale and jumpy, with her glowing patterns acting up, Zoey’s excuse was simple: “She’s still adjusting to her new powers.”
It was a lie Mira didn’t buy.
The attack didn’t just leave marks on Zoey’s neck – it also threw a wrench into the group’s promotions. At first, Zoey tried to cover the marks with makeup, the way they always do. She wore high collars and let the group’s uniforms help hide the bruises around her neck. For a while, it worked. But the paparazzi were relentless. They always had their ways of digging too deep, and Huntr/x couldn’t afford to risk a scandal right when they were supposed to be promoting their big comeback.
In the end, there was only one option: postpone. The company announced the girls were “sick,” and surprisingly, the excuse worked. Fans flooded them with sympathy and well-wishes – showering them with comments about getting enough rest and taking care of their health. Of course, there was also some criticism aimed at the agency itself – questioning whether management was pushing them too hard.
And so, the group’s packed schedule slowed to a halt. The girls were left in their penthouse – day after day. They filled their time however they could: watching movies, ordering too much food, practicing dances when they felt up to it, and, of course, fighting demons when duty called. On the surface, things almost looked normal, but there was something that no number of movies or snacks could fix—
—The awkward silence.
Despite their ‘busy’ days, the tension between Zoey and Rumi never faded. They acted like nothing was wrong when Mira was around, but the air between them was different – too careful, too quiet. Especially during practice.
The music started. Bright lights flared against the polished floor. Mira noticed the tension – it was like watching two strangers pretending to be friends. Rumi avoided Zoey’s gaze completely – keeping her eyes on the crowd or the floor. Zoey kept glancing at Rumi like she was afraid to get too close. Every time their choreography required them to lock eyes or hold hands, there was the tiniest hesitation – so small the cameras wouldn’t catch it, but Mira did.
She hated it.
By the time the practice ended, the silence between Zoey and Rumi grew louder than the music had been. They stood on opposite sides of the room, both pretending to scroll on their phones, and neither said a word.
Mira walked between them, her ponytail swishing as she stopped dead centre. “So,” she said, her voice slicing the tension, “are you two going to tell me what’s going on? Or do I have to drag it out of you?”
Zoey froze. Rumi’s jaw tightened.
“About what?” Zoey said quickly, too quickly. “Is it because of us being quiet?”
“Must be,” Rumi added, still not looking at either of them. “I guess, we’re just tired, Mira.”
Mira raised an eyebrow. Right. And I’m the Queen of England. She thought. But she didn’t push it – not yet. Because if she pushed too hard, something would break.
And that night, when they were back in the penthouse, Mira finally did.
Mira wasn’t convinced. Something else happened that night in the track. Something Zoey wasn’t telling her. And Rumi – well, Rumi was different too. Mira could see it in the way she avoided Zoey’s gaze, or how she stayed unusually quiet during their usual group banter.
She wanted to ignore it. She wanted to trust them to work it out themselves. But the longer she watched, the heavier the silence became, until she couldn’t stand it anymore. If one of them wouldn’t talk, then the other had to.
And so, Mira made a choice: she would ask Rumi. Not Zoey – because Zoey would dodge, or make up something sweet to protect the truth and her friends. Rumi, on the other hand, Mira believed, that her friend learned to lean on to her unlike before during the Jinu fiasco. That belief was what gave Mira the courage to finally corner Rumi, even if the answer might hurt.
Mira knocked on Rumi’s door. For a long moment, there was no answer. Just when she thought about turning away, the door creaked open.
Rumi stood there, looking a little dishevelled – like she’d been caught in the middle of something and scrambled to compose herself. Her hair was loose and messy, her shirt slightly wrinkled, as if she had pulled it on in a hurry.
“Mira!” Rumi exclaimed, her voice pitched higher than usual.
Mira stepped inside without waiting for an invitation. She didn’t sit on the bed or anywhere near Rumi. Instead, she walked straight to the window, tugged the curtains aside, and let out a deep breath. The night view outside was calming as usual (with the honmoon glowing), but the tension inside the room was heavy.
“We need to talk,” Mira said firmly.
Rumi’s shoulders stiffened. She knows that tone; she knows Mira.
“Mira—”
Mira cut in. “There’s something going on between you and Zoey,” Her voice wasn’t sharp, but it filled with a purpose that Rumi couldn’t ignore. “And I’m here to find answers.”
Rumi froze.
“What happened that night?” Mira asked, turning now to face her.
“That night?”
“Yes. When you and Zoey fell into the pit—the abandoned tracks. What happened there?” Mira crossed her arms, bracing herself for whatever excuse was coming. “And don’t you dare say nothing is wrong. Don’t keep something from me again, Rumi.”
The word again struck deeper than anything else.
Rumi met her gaze, and in Mira’s eyes she saw the quiet plea – fear, too – that history might be repeating itself. The memory of what happened before, the way Rumi had hidden things from Mira when she was offering herself as her friend’s solace – it felt fresh like an open wound.
And it hurt.
The leader lowered her eyes, then slowly sat down on the edge of the bed. Her voice was low – filled with regret, “I almost killed Zoey.” She muttered.
Mira didn’t move. She didn’t gasp, or shout, or look shocked. She just stood there – because deep down, she had already guessed. The bruises on Zoey’s neck, the strange way both girls avoided the subject – it had always pointed back to Rumi and the night they fell. When Mira saw the wound on Zoey’s neck and their leader’s strange reaction, Mira already presume Rumi attacked Zoey – but she waited the truth to come out from either of them, but none of them spoke.
What shook Mira wasn’t the truth itself. It was that her friends had chosen to keep it from her.
“You kept something from me again,” Mira said flatly, her words like stone. Then her jaw tightened. “Well… the both of you did.”
“I’m sorry—we’re sorry. We didn’t agree not to tell you. Zoey must have her reasons. But Mira, I—”
“I don’t even want to ask why.”
“Mira, I didn’t tell you because… I was scared.”
“Scared of what? Me knowing the truth?” Mira’s arms dropped, her brows furrowing deeply. “I thought we’re family. And family don’t keep things from each other especially if danger or something serious is involve.”
Rumi’s head snapped up, eyes wide. Her voice cracked as she answered, “I’m scared you’ll fear me!”
In that moment, her pupils changed – turning sharp and inhuman: the eyes of a demon.
Mira noticed immediately. But instead of stepping back and raising her weapon, she stayed rooted, her expression painted with concern rather than fear.
Rumi clenched her fists, trembling. She had chosen to embrace her demon self, but it wasn’t simple – it came with a side effect. Every emotion, every instinct, every violent thought seemed tied to the darkness inside her. Day by day, her humanity felt like it was slipping away.
And that terrified her more than anything.
“I…” Rumi bit her lip, trying to hold back the tears pressing at the corners of her eyes. Her throat tightened, and she had to draw in a long, shaky breath before she could continue. “I almost killed my friend,” she whispered. Her hand lifted on instinct, curling into a claw-like grip as if Zoey were standing right there in front of her. Her fingers clenched the air, shaking as she mimicked the moment. “I almost… I almost broke her neck. Her blood—”
“Rumi,” Mira said softly.
Rumi’s voice cracked as she choked out, “I almost killed her, Mira.”
“Why didn’t you two tell me?”
The leader’s gaze darted up, and she forced a fragile smile that didn’t last. “And see you raise your weapon at me again?” The smile collapsed, replaced by fear, paranoia, and anxiety. “Do you think, you can let that go as a Hunter? I cannot… endure that torment again, Mira. Not from you—any of you.”
The words hit Mira like a blade twisting in her chest. The memory slammed back into her – the night she wished she could forget. A night where trust had splintered into pieces. Where she had stood, blade in hand, against the very girl she swore to protect and treasure.
At that time, wasn’t Rumi’s demon blood that made Mira ache. She didn’t care that her friend wasn’t fully human – none of them did. To her, to Zoey, to everyone who mattered, Rumi was simply Rumi. Whether she’s half demon, they simply just want their Rumi. What shattered Mira was the choice Rumi had made before – the choice to hide, to collaborate with a demon, to keep her walls so high her friends couldn’t reach her. That’s a betrayal that can cut deep than any weapon.
And that hurt her. Especially when she reached out to her friend but Rumi still chose not to say anything.
“You guys should’ve leaned on me more…” Mira murmured, her voice almost too soft to hear.
“I’m sorry, Mira.”
Mira inhaled, then finally crossed the space between them. She placed her hand gently on Rumi’s shoulder. “I’m not mad,” she said. “Disappointed, yes… but that’s not the focus right now.” Her hand gave the slightest squeeze, an anchor trying to hold Rumi’s storm together. “Huntr/x are three people, not two, not one. You and Zoey must clear things up, alright?”
Rumi nodded.
“I’m going to be for real; I think it’s just you who’s making this a big deal.”
“What do you mean?”
“Zoey doesn’t seem to be awkward around you—you’re the only one trying to push her away. I’m presuming it’s because you’re scared, you’ll hurt her again.”
“You’re not wrong.”
“But you’re not Zoey—it’s Zoey’s choice to be scared of you or not. But she’s a good kid, an incident like that won’t make her not be your friend.”
“That’s true…”
Mira gave Rumi a playful flick on the forehead with her fingers, “So don’t let those overthinking ass of yours destroy your friendship with your fellow Hunter. If Zoey says she’s okay, she’s okay. So, return to your old self please?”
If Rumi was shaken by what happened on the train tracks, Zoey, on the other hand, was bothered in an entirely different way. Something about that night wouldn’t leave her. The memory of Rumi’s hand at her throat – claws pressing down, the mix of fear and thrill – lingered in her mind, no matter how hard she tried to shake it off. So, she resorted in giving into self-pleasure.
She hated it. She hated herself for it. And yet, she couldn’t stop.
“R-Rumi…” Zoey’s voice whimpered as her fingers moved deep inside her wet cunt.
She laid naked on her bed – sweat rolling down her face despite the air conditioner on, her clothes scattered on the floor, a newly opened packaged vibrator next to her, and some tissue paper next to the trash that wasn’t shot perfectly.
“Choke me more,” Zoey’s hand wrapped around her neck and pretended that her friend was choking her while her other hand continued to pleasure her down below.
Zoey knew about intimacy from books and movies, but never from experience. Everything she tried was clumsy, awkward – a beginner fumbling in the dark. She’d never cared for anything beyond simple, vanilla romance – but remembering the thrill and sensation of her friend’s claws around her neck turned her on and made her insanely horny.
She replayed it in her head, over and over, until she was shaking, until her breath breaks into gasps and whimpers, and her chest heaved as if she were being choked all over again.
Zoey couldn’t stop masturbating – thinking about Rumi aggressively fucking her in her demon form. It’s endearing, intoxicating, and makes her hungry for pleasure. She couldn’t understand it herself.
Is Zoey that sexually deprived that all reasoning and respect for her friend is out of the window?
Zoey whimpered as she felt her breath losing. “R-Rumi…” she moaned. She can feel the rising pleasure brewing, “C-Cumming…!”
And then the spasms followed. Zoey coughed for breath and stood up drastically – gasping for air.
Crap. She cursed. I overdid it.
One of the reasons why the marks around Zoey’s neck takes a long time to heal is because of her routine at night – masturbating while pretending that Rumi was choking her as she’s being fucked.
Does Zoey feel guilty? Yes. Oh, but she will keep doing it. It’s the only way to sate her desire for her friend. She knows it’s disgusting, she knows coveting a fellow Hunter is repulsive, but what can she do? The craving won’t stop.
“I’m sorry…” Zoey mumbled. “I’m sorry Rumi.”
That’s all Zoey can do – apologise into thin air for the sin she felt for her friend.
Zoey fixed up and washed herself after her heated activity before resting for the night. But even in the stillness of the silence and the comfort of her bed, she finds no peace in dreamland.
Her dreams betrayed her, too. In them, Rumi always appeared – sometimes gentle, sometimes cruel, always too close. In her dreams, she’s making love with her friend – so pleasuring that her body in real life responded with dampness in her cunt.
Tonight, Rumi was on top of her with their faces only inches apart. Zoey reached out, desperate for her warmth – but this dream was different—
The youngest pulled the leader close to her for a kiss. “I want you, Rumi.” Zoey pleaded. “Please, touch me. Please.”
Rumi doesn’t speak in her dreams, and since it’s Zoey’s plane, Rumi followed – her middle and ring finger touching Zoey’s clit in a circular motion.
It made Zoey moan.
“Yes, just like that~”
Then, Rumi stopped – which confused Zoey.
“Rumi?”
Rumi stared at her, “You disgust me,” she spoke, which surprised the latter.
The eldest suddenly grabbed Zoey by the mouth and covered it with her hand. Her form changed back into her demon form with eyes piercing through the latter’s gaze.
“How dare you think of me this way?!” she roared. “I am your friend—your fellow Hunter! And you twist me into this in your mind?!”
Zoey thrashed – struggling to get away – but the demon strength was too much.
“You disgust me, Zoey!” Rumi shouted. “You disgust me. Disgusting! Disgusting! Disgusting! Disgusting!”
—Zoey jolted awake, heart pounding, sweat clinging to her skin. She sat up fast – clutching her chest, gasping for air.
A dream? She thought. Her body trembled. Dammit.
Zoey’s guilt ate her up. It sank deeper, poisoning her. Even her own mind had turned against her – bombarded her with the vexing feeling in her throat.
She knew it was wrong to think of Rumi that way – but she cannot stop. She’s hungry, she craves for her, she couldn’t stop feeling the urge to satisfy herself as it was the only way to stop the burn.
And because of the guilt, Zoey started to grow awkward. She couldn’t look at Rumi the same way without feeling the weight of what she had done – or rather, what she kept imagining. Every smile, every laugh, every touch from Rumi was like a reminder of the secret that twisted inside her chest. Every time she sees those patterns from her friend, it makes her feel fidgety inside. But she forced herself to act normal. She laughed when she was supposed to laugh, she talked when she was supposed to talk, and she smiled even when her heart was heavy.
And kudos to Zoey for being such a good actress, Mira didn’t notice anything unusual. Like the perfect actress she was.
Rumi, on the other hand, stopped overthinking. She forced herself back into her usual self – the reliable leader who didn’t let anything bother her. At least, that was how it looked on the outside. In truth, she wasn’t doing much better than Zoey. Whenever her skin brushed against Zoey’s, Rumi felt something burning inside her, an ache she couldn’t explain. Just one look at Zoey’s bright smile was enough to make her insides twist into knots. Sometimes she caught herself staring too long, her mind drifting into a dangerous place – a place where she could embrace Zoey, where she could hold her close and never let go, where her lips tracing the curve of the latter’s neck, her hands locking in with Zoey’s. In her mind, Rumi can freely embrace Zoey passionately without the fear of being rejected.
And then came the hunger.
In her imagination, she sometimes pictured herself cornering Zoey against the wall with their lips pressing hard, desperate and aggressive, like someone struggling in famine for years and finally tasting food again. In her mind, it was messy, overwhelming, consuming – pleasuring – nothing she would ever admit out loud.
“Rumi? Earth to Rumi?” Mira’s voice snapped her back. Rumi blinked, finding her friend’s fingers waving in front of her eyes. “Management just gave the go signal for us to return to schedule since Zoey’s marks are less visible.”
“Oh. Right.” Rumi coughed, trying to hide her distraction. “Thanks, Mira.”
Zoey spoke next, “So, what’s next on the agenda?”
Mira scrolled through her phone. “We’ve got a two-hour shoot tomorrow starting at eight in the morning, then a run-through session at six in the evening for the show the day after.”
“Just two?”
“Yep. That’s it.”
Zoey grinned, punching the air in celebration. “Yes! Seven whole hours free! More couch time!”
Her goofy excitement made Rumi smile. Soon enough, all three of them were laughing, holding hands, and spinning around in a circle as they chanted together, “Couch, couch, couch!”
Zoey collapsed onto the sofa dramatically. “I’m going to download a loooooot of chinchilla and turtle videos tonight! And then… Barbie movie marathon! Fairytopia all the way to Princess Charm School!”
Mira groaned playfully, shaking her head. “Disney would be way better for a seven hour break.”
Rumi chuckled and raised her hand like a student asking to speak. “Or…” she reached into her pocket and pulled out three folded tickets, “we could have lunch after the shoot, then head straight to Disney on Ice, bathhouse after that, and finally a Barbie movie or two before the run-through.”
“Disney on Ice!” Zoey and Mira shouted at the same time, their eyes lighting up. “We’re going to see Disney on Ice!”
Things went smoothly as night came and the girls settled down after dinner. Mira knocked out early in her room with Derpy curled at her feet and loud music in her earpods. Zoey, still buzzing with excitement from planning their Disney on Ice trip, stayed awake scrolling through videos on her phone.
The night was quiet – the kind of silence that made every creak of the floorboards echo.
After doomscrolling in Tiktok for hours, Zoey finally set her phone aside, yawning, ready to rest. That was when she heard it. A faint thud, then another – coming from Rumi’s room. It was unusual since their rooms are soundproofed, so hearing a noise could mean something was going on.
At first, Zoey thought maybe Rumi dropped something. But then came the sound of a muffled groan, low and pained.
“Rumi?” Zoey whispered to herself, slipping off her bed. She padded barefoot across the hall, hesitating at Rumi’s door. The groans grew louder, mixed with something like a growl.
Zoey tried to turn the doorknob with a knock – but the door slipped, thus, Zoey wasn’t able to make a sound on the surface. She opened the door just a crack, and there she saw her friend: Rumi was on the floor, hunched over, her body trembling. Her hands clawed at her arms, her hair a tangled mess, sweat dripping down her face. Her pupils glowed faintly, shifting between human and demon, and her patterns flickered.
“Rumi!” Zoey pushed the door wider.
The eldest snapped her head up, eyes blazing red for a split second before fading back to brown. “Don’t—” she rasped, clutching her head. “Don’t come closer!”
But Zoey’s feet moved on their own.
“Rumi, you’re hurting—”
Before she could finish, Rumi lunged. Her strength was wild and uncontrolled. A force came out of her which shut the door. She slammed Zoey against the wall, one hand gripping her wrist, the other at her shoulder. Zoey gasped at the sudden closeness, at the heat radiating off her.
“Rumi—!”
Rumi’s eyes flickered again, and her breath hot against Zoey’s cheek. For a moment, Zoey thought she saw hunger there – not just bloodlust, but something else. Rumi’s lips parted like she wanted to say something, but only a growl escaped.
Zoey froze. Her heart hammered so loudly she swore Rumi could hear it. This wasn’t the Rumi she knew. This was the demon inside her, clawing to get out.
“Rumi, it’s me,” Zoey whispered, her voice trembling. “It’s Zoey. Please… wake up.”
Rumi’s grip tightened, her claws grazing Zoey’s skin. Zoey could barely breathe; her body pressed between Rumi and the wall.
“Shut… up!” Rumi’s voice was deeper, darker. Her hand clamped over Zoey’s mouth, silencing her. And then Zoey saw it—
—Rumi’s demon form. Her patterns glowed red, her eyes burning in amber and crimson with snake-like pupils, and a horn emerged from a side of her head.
There was no trace of her humanity left – no warmth, no kindness, no familiar spark in her eyes. This wasn’t her friend anymore. It was something else – something terrifying. Zoey’s instincts screamed at her to summon her daggers, but she froze. If she fought back, she might hurt Rumi, and that was something she could never bring herself to do.
“You annoying pest,” Rumi growled demonically. “Because of you, this feeling won’t fade!”
The eldest forcefully grabbed Zoey by the cheeks and pushed her onto the bed.
Fight it, Rumi! Zoey can only plead in silence.
The youngest is scared. She is scared because it’s not Rumi in front of her – it’s her demon instincts. Zoey’s thoughts wandered: Is she going to die? Is she going to get hurt? What will happen to her? What will Demon Rumi do to her?
“Your presence annoys me!” Rumi shouted. “Your very existence bothers me!”
Zoey managed to set her mouth free and finally shouted, “Snap out of it, Rumi!”
The demon’s hand shot to her throat, squeezing – not enough to crush her windpipe, but enough to make every breath a struggle, “Silence!”
Zoey’s hands gripped the demon’s wrist – trying to fight back. Come on! Don’t leave marks on me! We have a schedule tomorrow! She thought, despite the danger of the situation.
Maybe because of Rumi’s consciousness despite the demo taking over, the grip wasn’t as painful or strong as it was before, and that gave Zoey a sign that Rumi is still inside. So, with all her strength, she removed the hand away and hugged Rumi close – not letting her go.
“I am not letting you go until you calm down!” Zoey shouted.
“Let go of me, human!” The demon hissed, writhing in her embrace.
“No!”
“How dare you touch my body with your filthy hands!”
“Anyone would dare—because I am cute!” Zoey fired back, her voice cracking with both fear and stubbornness, Despite the situation, Zoey still managed to make a subtle joke. “Who wouldn’t?! Did you even think about that?! Or are you going to deny I am cute?!”
“You are cute!” The demon responded – or mayhaps it was Rumi’s consciousness who did. Zoey swore she heard Rumi’s voice in it. Either way, it was a distraction to pull Rumi back in.
“Oh yeah?! But you called me filthy!” Zoey shouted back again, still holding Rumi close. The demon kept struggling to break free. “If I’m really filthy, then break out of this hug! Go on—prove it!”
The demon thrashed, growling in frustration. “How… can I… when you’re holding me so tight?!”
“Then you have to hurt me to try!”
Then, just as suddenly, Rumi’s body stopped struggling.
Did it work? Zoey thought. She removed her arms, but the demon didn’t move. Is she back?
“Rumi?” Zoey called.
But instead of her friend’s answer, a cold voice responded, “Pathetic fool,” the demon surged again, grabbing both of Zoey’s wrists and pinning them above her head. Her weight pressed down on the latter’s – holding Zoey completely in place. \
Zoey’s heart was racing so fast it hurt, but she forced herself to stay calm. She had to. If she panicked, Rumi might slip away completely. Somewhere deep inside, Zoey was sure her friend was still listening – still fighting.
She locked her gaze on the demon’s burning eyes.
“You…” the demon growled, voice like gravel. “You are one annoying human.”
“And you’re one hot demon,” Zoey shot back without thinking.
Zoey’s brain screamed at her, God, I hope flirting with the person who might actually kill me is worth it. Maybe it was the fear talking. Maybe she’d finally gone insane. But it was true. The way Rumi’s demon side looked – dangerous, powerful, untouchable – it was terrifying, yes, but also… goddamn attractive.
Then, for a fraction of a second, she saw it. Rumi’s eyes flickered. The demon’s sharp pupils briefly gave way to Rumi’s warm brown ones before shifting back again.
Wait… her eyes changed. Zoey’s hope sparked.
“Rumi,” she whispered, “are you really going to hurt me?”
The demon didn’t answer right away. Instead, it studied her – her expression, her trembling lips, her eyes brimming with fear but also stubbornness. The silence between them wasn’t empty. It was full of tension like the air itself was waiting to see who would win.
Finally, Rumi muttered, “You’re one lucky human. I’ll give you that. But I am not leaving without a price.”
“What do you—”
Before she could finish, Rumi suddenly pressed her lips against Zoey’s.
Zoey froze, eyes wide. Wait, wait, wait! Her thoughts scrambled. She’s kissing me?!
Her arms didn’t even move. She was too shocked and too stunned to breathe. This was something she had only imagined – only dreamed of in secret: Rumi kissing her. But now that it was happening for real, it didn’t feel like she thought it would.
Because it wasn’t really Rumi. It was the demon. And that made Zoey furious. Because deep inside her, she wanted Rumi herself kissing her and not some demon instinct driving her friend to do something intimate with her.
But then the demon’s eyes opened mid-kiss, and Zoey saw them – the familiar brown eyes staring back at her. Not the demon’s, but Rumi’s.
Rumi broke the kiss. They both stared at each other, before the leader’s body went limp – collapsing forward, unconscious, and her weight heavy against Zoey.
Zoey struggled to hold her up, her own knees shaking. “Rumi—! Rumi, wake up!” But the leader was completely out cold, her breathing shallow, sweat soaking her shirt.
The youngest lowered Rumi’s body to the bed carefully – brushing damp strands of hair from her face.
That was too close. Zoey thought. Too dangerous.
“Did you…” the youngest stared at her friend’s sleeping face, “just kiss me consciously?”
~ ~ ~
The next morning, Rumi woke up with a sharp jolt, her heart pounding as if she had just run a marathon. Her eyes darted around the room, searching for something out of place. But everything seemed… normal. She remembered what happened last night – she was struggling because of the heat and hunger. Then she saw Zoey, and things went black after that. But before she lost her consciousness, she remembered kissing her friend. She doesn’t know if it was a dream when she was unconscious or if it really happened.
With a sigh, Rumi rubbed her temples. Please let it have been a dream.
Just then, soft footsteps padded into the room. Derpy, her mystical tiger, entered through the doorway, his glowing stripes shimmering faintly in the morning light. He tilted his head, sensing her unease, and gently rested it on the edge of her bed.
Rumi reached out and stroked his fur. “I think… I made a huge mistake, Derpy,” she whispered, her voice breaking slightly. “And I hope it was only a dream.”
The tiger didn’t understand her words, not really. But he stayed by her side, his warm presence giving comfort even without answers.
Rumi wanted to ask Zoey about it. She wanted to know if last night had been real or if her guilty mind was inventing things. But before she could even gather the courage, Zoey’s cheerful voice filled the kitchen.
“Good morning!” Zoey chirped the moment Rumi joined them at the table. She was already halfway through her breakfast, balancing a plate of pancakes in one hand and scrolling on her phone with the other.
Rumi froze. That… was it? Just a normal good morning? No strange looks, no tension? She asked herself. Did that mean Zoey didn’t remember anything? Or was Zoey just pretending?
“How’s your sleep?” Mira asked, glancing at both of them as she buttered her toast.
“Oh, I was knocked out cold last night after doom-scrolling!” Zoey laughed, shoving a bite of kimbap into her mouth before slurping at a steaming cup of hamburger-flavoured noodles. “I even dreamed I was riding a turtle’s shell!”
“That’s siiiiick,” Mira said with a grin. Then she turned her eyes toward Rumi, waiting for her answer. “And you?”
Rumi hesitated. Her gaze drifted to Zoey, who was still busy munching away, her phone propped against a cup as she watched a funny video. There was no trace of fear or discomfort in her expression. Just… Zoey being Zoey.
“I was…” Rumi’s voice faltered. She swallowed and forced a smile. “I was fine.”
“Great,” Mira said, satisfied. “So, I guess all three of us had a good night’s sleep, which we really needed because we’ve got an appointment in an hour. So, finish up fast and let’s go!”
The studio lights blazed down on the three of them – as if they could burn away every hidden thought. Zoey is, again, doomscrolling in her phone while checking the tweets of their fans in social media while the stylist fixed her make up. Rumi on the other hand kept stealing glances at Zoey.
Every time she saw Zoey smile, laugh, or bounce around with her usual energy, her mind wandered. Does she know what happened? She asked herself. Did she feel that kiss? Or was it really just in my head? Was the Zoey in my room last night even the real one or was I hallucinating?
Meanwhile, Zoey was doing her very best to act like nothing was wrong. Outwardly joking with the cameramen, teasing Mira, twirling her mic stand like it was a toy sword. But inside? Inside, she was absolutely screaming.
Oh my god, oh my god. I flirted with Rumi’s demon. I told her she was hot. And then— Zoey’s heart skipped a beat, her stomach turning into butterflies so violent it almost hurt. —she kissed me. Like, actually kissed me. I think? Maybe? WHAT IF SHE REMEMBERS?! WAS IT REALLY RUMI WHO KISSED ME LAST NIGHT OR WAS IT THAT HOT DEMON? Wait the hot demon is still Rumi and it’s just her instincts so technically…
Zoey’s faced flushed red. She bent her knee down while covering her face with her palms.
Oh my god. She screamed internally.
“Are you okay, Zoey?” One of the staff asked, which pulled her back to real life.
Zoey gave a smile.
Zoey had never been this nervous in her life. Fighting demons? Easy. Performing? Piece of cake. Facing her feelings for Rumi? Fucking torture.
“Alright, girls!” the photographer clapped. “We’re done with the group and solos. The last set is Free, so I need intimacy—raw connection—from Zoey and Rumi. Don’t hold back, girls~”
Zoey froze and Rumi blinked
Of course, the pairing ended up being Rumi and Zoey.
The set dimmed until only a soft blue spotlight washed over the two of them. The music started slow, echoing with a deep, emotional pull to help build the atmosphere. Zoey and Rumi faced each other, the lyrics flowing between them like a conversation.
Rumi extended her hand, her fingers brushing lightly against Zoey’s. The contact sent a spark racing through her arm – too warm, too dangerous. But she kept her expression steady, as if nothing happened.
Zoey, on the other hand, nearly combusted. She’s touching me. Oh god, she’s actually touching me. Don’t freak out, Zoey. Don’t you dare freak out. It’s just a photoshoot. Just a shoot!
The camera flashes started almost immediately – bright white bursts that painted the studio like lightning. “Closer,” the photographer called, waving his hand toward Rumi and Zoey. “This concept is about freedom, but it’s also about trust. You two—act like there’s no one else in the world but you.”
Zoey gulped, No one else in the world but me and Rumi? That’s literally the problem!
Rumi stepped forward, brushing a loose strand of Zoey’s hair behind her ear. It was supposed to look tender, but her fingertips lingered a second too long – grazing skin that burned under her touch. Rumi’s throat tightened, Why does she have to look like that? She asked herself, staring at the little details on Zoey’s face. So radiant, so warm… so close.
The youngest, meanwhile, felt like her brain had completely short-circuited. Oh god oh god oh god, she touched my hair. I’m gonna die. I can’t even look at her or I’ll combust. She forced a smile for the camera, but her cheeks were already flushed pink.
“Good, good! Now, hold hands,” the photographer instructed.
Their fingers intertwined. The flash popped. Zoey’s pulse went wild. Rumi tried to focus on the instructions, but all she could think about was the faint tremble in Zoey’s hand. Was she nervous… or was it because of her?
“Now lean your foreheads together. Gentle, but intimate.”
They obeyed. Their noses almost touched, their breath mingling in the inch of space between them. Zoey swore she could hear her own heartbeat echoing in her ears. This is too much. Way too much. I can’t handle this. She smells so good, why does she smell so good?!
Rumi’s eyes softened as she stared into Zoey’s gaze. She wasn’t supposed to think like this – not with her guilt from last night still haunting her – but Zoey’s lips looked dangerously inviting – too fucking inviting. Hunger twisted in her chest like she wanted to just pull Zoey in and risk the kiss in front of everyone.
But Rumi must control herself.
“Beautiful!” the photographer shouted, snapping dozens of shots. “Now, Zoey, tilt your chin up slightly. Rumi, cup her face like you’re about to—yes, exactly!”
Rumi’s palm cradled Zoey’s cheek. Her thumb brushed lightly across her skin, and for a split second, Rumi forgot they were even in a photoshoot. Her mind whispered traitorous thoughts—
Rumi thoughts bombarded her, Just lean in, just a little, just taste her again. She bit the insides of her cheeks to keep her focused. Dammit, Rumi. Get it together!
The photographer took a shot and then said, “Now, I want Rumi to pull Zoey a bit closer and Zoey I want you to hold Rumi’s hand.”
“Wait, so like… a kiss?” Mira asked.
And that question caused Zoey’s reflex to jerk back and slapped Rumi’s hand.
Zoey’s knees nearly gave out. She laughed nervously. “S-Sorry! Got ticklish for a sec, Rumi!”
But that wasn’t the case.
Rumi froze for half a second, her heart sinking. She forced a small smile, nodding like it was no big deal. But inside, her chest ached. Did she pull away on purpose? Does she really not want me near her? Or was it because of the kiss and she remembered and she’s… repulsed by it?
The staff chuckled, thinking nothing of it. The photographer sighed, “Alright, let’s reset.”
Zoey looked down at her hands, clutching them tight to keep them from shaking. This is torture. Literal torture.
Rumi forced herself to exhale, tearing her eyes away from Zoey before her hunger got the best of her. But deep down, she knew – if they kept going like this, one of them was going to break.
They managed to go through the shoot. Things went smoothly in their seven-hour break so Rumi wasn’t bothered as they were all enjoying.
But the rehearsal that followed turned the tabled. It was supposed to feel fun. Mira was already hyped, hitting every move with her usual energy, and Rumi followed, but Zoey kept looking down when they practiced their formations – her timing was sharp but her body seemed tense, like she was forcing herself to keep moving.
When Rumi caught her eye, Zoey looked away quickly – almost like she was embarrassed. Rumi’s chest tightened in pain. Normally Zoey was playful – always making faces or joking during rehearsals. Tonight, she barely said a word to her.
The more Rumi thought about it, the more it stung. Why is she ignoring me like this? Did I do something wrong?
After they wrapped up the run-through, the three girls scattered to the dressing rooms. Mira left first to grab a drink, but Rumi stayed, watching Zoey hurry over to the mirror side – pretending to scroll through her phone like she was too busy for anything else.
Rumi took a step closer. “Zoey,” she said quietly.
Zoey didn’t meet her eye. She stood up, “Wait I forgot something,” she lied (wanting to flee.
Something inside Rumi snapped. Her voice rose, deeper and sharper than she meant: “Why are you acting like this?” Her demon energy flickered out – red patterns crawling up her neck, her eyes flashing that of a demon’s.
Zoey froze. The phone slipped in her hand, and her shoulders jolted like she’d been shocked. For a heartbeat, she just stared at Rumi, wide-eyed and silent.
“I’m trying to strike a conversation yet you’re ignoring me,”
Zoey opened her mouth and nervously answered, “W-Well, I forgot… my water… and—”
“Ask the staff, we need to talk.”
“Oh, I cannot simply bother them over—”
“Why are you acting strange?”
“Me? Strange?” the youngest playfully scoffed. “Nahhhh when did I—” Rumi stepped closer, and Zoey stumbled back – sitting on the chair. “Look, Rumi, nothing is going on or whatever. Let’s just focus on the performance. And Mira is coming back soon! We don’t want her to see we’re arguing or some sort, right? Right? RIGHT?”
Rumi raised her hand towards Zoey, but the latter closed her eyes – and that gave Rumi the answer. She noticed her patterns, and her hands, then she looked to her right to see her reflection – her demon form.
She didn’t know when it happened, but one thing is sure now – Rumi cannot control her power.
Rumi realised what she had done and immediately pulled back, forcing the demon form down. Shame washed over her. “Zoey… I didn’t mean— I’m sorry. I didn’t want to scare you.”
Zoey swallowed hard, then mumbled something about needing to fix her hair. She turned back to the mirror, though her hands were shaking as she adjusted her ponytail.
When they returned to the stage, Mira bounced back in with her usual cheer, not noticing the silence between them. Rumi tried to focus on the music, but her mind was racing. She kept glancing at Zoey.
Is she scared of me now? Rumi thought, her stomach twisting. Did I just ruin everything?
Takedown started. The choreo starts with Rumi dancing solo and Mira and Zoey will seem to “bully” her – stripping her jacket and pushing her back. But Zoey fumbled by hesitating to touch the leader – which never happened in their performance and practice before. Her hand twitched at Rumi’s shoulder, then pulled back. She missed the timing completely.
“Cut!” the floor director shouted and the music stopped.
Bobby asked from below, “Is everything okay, Zoey?”
“Sorry!”
“Let’s take it to the top people!” the director shouted again. “Do it right girls!”
They reset. The music blasted again.
Rumi’s solo was perfect, Mira was sharp as always, but when it came to Zoey’s part, she faltered again. Her steps were late, her hand hovered too long before tugging at Rumi’s jacket, like she was afraid to touch her at all.
Zoey’s heart was racing. Why can’t I do this? It’s just choreography and we’ve been through this! It’s just Rumi. Stop freaking out. But the memory of last night – the kiss, the way her chest burned whenever she looked at Rumi – kept flashing in her head.
The third time through, she tripped on her own foot trying to circle behind Rumi. The fourth time, she slipped completely when she went to push her back.
Rumi reacted fast, catching her by the wrist before she could hit the floor. “Zoey—are you okay?”
But Zoey’s body jolted like she had touched fire. She yanked their leader’s hand back too quickly, the motion too sharp, almost like she was pushing Rumi away. Her chest heaved, her face red, but not just from the dancing.
“I—” Zoey stammered, avoiding her eyes. “I just need a breather.” She grabbed her bottle of water and hurried off stage before anyone could stop her.
Rumi stood frozen for a second, staring at her empty hand. The sting of Zoey’s reaction lingered. She doesn’t even want me to touch her…
Without thinking, Rumi stepped off the stage to follow.
“Zoey, wait!” Rumi shouted as the door closed. But Zoey didn’t listen and fastened her pace to the backstage. “Wait a minute!”
“Just go back, Rumi!” Zoey shouted back. “I need to be alone.”
“What happened back there?” but the leader pressed on. “Come on! Let’s stop for a second and talk.”
“Just go back!”
“No! You’re a part of Huntr/x I just can’t—”
Zoey stopped and faced the other, “For the love of god just leave me alone?!” she shouted, which surprised Rumi.
And that was the last straw.
Rumi grabbed Zoey’s wrist and they went to the back door of the building – away from the ears of the studio.
A loud thud echoed as Rumi slammed her palm against the wall, caging Zoey in with her other hand. “Why?” Rumi’s voice trembled – equal parts frustration and longing. “Why are you avoiding me? You won’t even look at me. You won’t even tell me what’s wrong. You’re acting different—you entertain others while you’re distant with me.”
Zoey’s eyes dropped to the floor. She couldn’t meet Rumi’s eyes – it bothers her in a way her heart is thumping wild not out of fear, but out of embarrassment – if not, excitement. “I’m not avoiding you,” she muttered. “I just… I needed some space. So, please, just leave me alone.”
“Are you… scared of me? Do you find me repulsive because I am a demon…? Is that why you kept flinching and ignoring my gaze? Because… you’re scared of me? Are you scared I will… hurt you?”
And the pleading, the hopelessness and helplessness in Rumi’s eyes pushed Zoey to finally tell Rumi what was happening.
“No! God no! Hell, I would do anything to see your demon form over and over again!” Zoey shouted, finally meeting Rumi’s eyes. “It’s just… every time I look at you, with your stupid hot arms and your glowing demon tattoos and your abs that shouldn’t be legal—I get all flustered and hot and—and I don’t know how to deal with that, okay?!” her cheeks turned red and Zoey slapped her hands over her face, “I just… I FEEL HOT AROUND YOU. HAPPY NOW?!”
Silence.
The sound of crickets chirping and exhaust from the vents in the distance filled the tension in air between them. Neither of them spoke. The moonlight lit their faces just enough to see the bright red blush spreading across Rumi’s cheeks – while Zoey’s whole face looked like it had caught fire that the redness reached her neck and ears.
Rumi slowly stepped back, giving Zoey space – unsure of what to say.
“I’m… I’m sorry,” Zoey mumbled, still hiding her face behind her hands.
Oh. My. God. Zoey wanted to scream. No. She wants the ground to eat her. I shouldn’t have said that outright! This is embarrassing!
“No, no, it’s okay!” Rumi said quickly, waving her hands in front of her face as if to erase the awkwardness. “Seriously, it’s… normal. I think?”
“Normal?” Zoey peeked between her fingers. “Normal?! Are you being serious right now?!”
“Yeah! You’re a girl. I’m a girl. We feel things sometimes.”
“Yeah, but not ‘feel things’ for your demon best friend with biceps carved by hellfire!”
“Excuse me? Would you ignore a hot demon? You said it yourself; you do anything to see my demon side over and over again. And you were drooling over the Saja Boys and their six-packs months ago!”
“That’s because I like muscles!” Zoey cried. “And you’ve got those muscles! Do you know how hard it is for me not to stare when you work out and during the shoot? You flex and I short-circuit! That’s not normal!”
“It is totally normal to be attracted to someone’s physical features!” Rumi shot back. “You think I don’t notice how your hair shines under stage lights or how your voice gives me goosebumps? I’m the not normal one! I literally have to stop myself from hugging you because I might squeeze too tight and break you in half!”
“That’s called cuteness aggression, Rumi!”
“You don’t get it!” Rumi’s voice suddenly echoed louder than before – her glowing markings pulsing a bright red which affected the honmoon.
Zoey froze, the tension vanishing in an instant.
Rumi’s voice softened, but her eyes had changed – glowing faintly. Her patterns lit up like embers. “When I… when I look at you…” Rumi said, softly – filled with yearning, transparency, and gentleness, “…there’s this hunger inside me that cannot be sated. The way your eyes look at me—those warm, beautiful brown eyes—it sends a chill through my whole body. When you touch me, it’s like fire. It burns… and it stays, and it bothers me for hours—hours, Zoey. And when you ignore me, it drives me crazy. It… scares me, Zoey.”
Then Rumi finally met Zoey’s eyes, “You make me feel things I’ve never felt before. And I don’t understand any of it. All I know is I have this… urge—” her voice deepened, “I have this urge to touch you in ways unimaginable.”
Another silence followed.
What does she mean by that? Zoey asked herself.
Rumi wasn’t smiling. Her expression remained serious and intense. Her demon eyes glowed faintly and pupils slit and sharp like a predator’s. The glowing lines on her arms and neck pulsed softly – like they were alive with desire.
A normal person – any person – would’ve backed away by now. Prepared to run, or fight, or scream. But Zoey didn’t move – she couldn’t – because she wasn’t scared of Rumi. She was mesmerized. Yes, when she found out about the patterns, she was scared. After all, they were Hunters – a sole duty of eradicating demons. Who wouldn’t be confused and felt betrayed knowing your friend shared a blood of demons? Now, Rumi’s patterns were simply beautiful.
Rumi looked like she was holding herself back – like if Zoey said one wrong (or right) word, she’d leap forward and kiss her or tear her apart.
Zoey’s heart thudded so loud she could hear it in her ears. She didn’t know how to respond. Her body was tense, her breath shaky, but her eyes stayed locked on Rumi’s.
When Zoey said nothing, Rumi exhaled slowly while closing her eyes. When she opened them again, the glow had faded. Her pupils returned to their soft, human shape, and the pulsing marks across her skin dulled and vanished.
“Zoey—”
Rumi’s phone rang which disturbed the awkward silence. She took out her phone and saw Bobby’s name.
“Bobby,” she answered.
“Are you and Zoey… okay?” Bobby asked, concerned about his girls. “If one of you are not feeling well, we can skip the performance. There’s still time tomorrow to catch up.”
Rumi’s eyes averted back to Zoey was hugging her arms while staring at the floor. Her lips were tight; her body curled in slightly – as if protecting herself from the non-existent cold. To Rumi, Zoey acted like what she did frightened her friend.
And that pierced Rumi’s heart.
“We’re fine. Sorry, Bobby. We’ll… head back.”
A/N: Follow me on Twitter (I post Arlefuri and I'm a Zoey bias so be warned lmao) @erispawnsible. Also join the Huntrix Yuri Archives Discord server where we spazz about Polytrix and anything sapphic (Zoey is mine btw)