Chapter Text
Mira woke to a crushing weight on her chest.
A year ago it would have been concerning. Today, it just meant that Rumi had woken up first and deposited Zoey on her when she got out of bed. It wasn’t the most comfortable position, definitely not comfortable enough for her to go back to sleep, but she had no real desire to move her.
She cracked open an eye to confirm her suspicions and smiled fondly at the tangle of dark hair just under her chin. She rested her hand between Zoey’s shoulderblades and drew small, idle patterns against her shirt. Zoey stirred a little, making a soft, breathy sound of contentment that made Mira feel pleasantly warm all over, then nuzzled into her chest. If the angle were better, she’d have leaned down to kiss the dusting of freckles over her nose. As it was, she just held her close.
Faintly, she could smell something cooking, and it made her realise she was starving. They’d skipped dinner after they got back.
Well. Zoey and Rumi had. Mira had eaten something.
She looked over to the window, where a ribbon of sunlight fell through a crack in the curtains. If the sun was up it was probably mid morning. She rubbed at her eyes with the heel of her palm and gave Zoey a nudge. She whined and slid an arm up Mira’s back to hold on tighter, making a sound that was half way to a ‘no’.
She could’ve just moved her. In fact, if she stood up Zoey would probably just cling to her like a koala—her sleepy death grip wasn’t as ironclad as Rumi’s but it wasn’t far off. Instead she pressed a kiss to Zoey’s hair and shook her again.
“C’mon. I’m hungry.” Mira said, voice still thick with sleep.
Zoey mumbled incoherently, groaned, then pushed herself up onto her elbows. She looked down at Mira blearily. “So go eat.”
Mira sighed, a touch overdramatic, then wrapped both arms around Zoey and rolled to the side. Zoey gave an indignant squeak of protest.
“Miraaa.” Zoey whined. Mira chuckled tiredly and pressed a kiss to her nose. Zoey's eyes narrowed a fraction and her hand shifted up so she could run her fingers over Mira's neck. Mira raised an eyebrow.
“She bit you pretty hard, huh?” Zoey mused.
“Don't be jealous.” Mira said, teasing and hoping it hid the way the memory made her blush.
Instead of denying it, Zoey propped herself up and gave Mira a chaste kiss. “Make me breakfast.”
Mira laughed lightly. “Demanding.”
“You weren't complaining last night.” Zoey said with a lazy grin.
“Mmh. Guess I wasn't.” Mira conceded before rolling away and getting to her feet. “You're not eating in my bed, though. Get up.”
Zoey groaned again as Mira made for the bathroom, but the shuffling of bedsheets told her that she was getting out of bed as well.
By the time she'd finished brushing her teeth and corralling Zoey to do the same her stomach was rumbling. The faint clattering of Rumi in the kitchen filtered through when she opened her bedroom door and she followed it home.
She paused as she rounded the corner of the hallway. Rumi's hair was tied back in a loose ponytail—her scalp would thank her for it—and she'd stolen one of Mira's oversized t-shirts. She hadn't been wearing it when they went to sleep.
Mira had no room to complain—she definitely had some of Rumi's hoodies in her wardrobe now, especially since Rumi wore them less often—but she wouldn't have even if she did. She liked seeing Rumi and Zoey wearing her clothes. She liked that they wanted the closeness to her even when she wasn't nearby.
She watched Rumi for a while longer, openly and unashamed. She'd already finished cooking and was putting things away.
“Morning.” Mira said, eventually.
Rumi startled a little and whirled around, then put a hand on her chest soothingly and smiled. “Morning. I made breakfast.”
Mira walked past the couch and to the island counter. It was a bigger breakfast than she'd expected, with a variety of dishes to choose from. She tilted her head. “You did all of this by yourself?”
Rumi nodded a little absently. It gnawed at Mira, but she was trying not to jump to conclusions so easily. She gave Rumi a slow once-over anyway. She didn't seem hurt, or sick. If anything, she looked well rested. She'd only barely made it through the shower before she was asleep in Zoey's arms, so she must have slept pretty solidly.
Rumi handed her a plate—she didn't need to ask what Mira wanted anymore, they'd been past that point for years—and she slid onto a chair to pick at it.
“Zoey should be out in a minute.” Mira said, then paused. “Unless she went back to bed.”
Rumi laughed softly. “I don't know how she does it. I always get a headache if I oversleep.”
Mira raised an eyebrow and looked pointedly at Rumi's hair. She either missed the look or ignored it.
“You get headaches because of the braid, and because you don't hydrate enough.” Mira said, just to make sure her point had been made.
Rumi waved a hand dismissively. “The braid is fine, and I drink enough.”
Mira hummed in response and made a note in the tab in her brain named ‘Rumi’ to keep an eye on how much water she drank. She was fine when they had rehearsals—it was a rule Mira enforced with a heavy hand—but outside of that it wasn't completely uncommon for her to focus on a task for several hours and only realise her body had needs when she came up for air.
There wasn't even a point in discussing the braid. Rumi didn't want to change it and neither Mira nor Zoey would ask her to, they just encouraged her to wear her hair down or in a ponytail when it was just them.
Rumi rounded the island and pushed a chair so close to Mira's they were almost touching, then flopped down into it and rested her head on her shoulder.
“Why are you wearing my shirt, by the way?” Mira asked. Just because she didn't mind didn't mean she wouldn't tease.
Rumi sat up and blinked owlishly at her. “Uh-...”
Mira took a bite of her breakfast and stared at her expectantly.
“I was just-... ugh.” Rumi groaned. “I was feeling a little anxious, okay?”
Mira put her chopsticks down immediately and turned to face her, teasing vanishing under the mixture of concern that Rumi was upset and relief that she'd admitted it. “What's wrong?”
Rumi looked away. “I'll tell you when Zoey gets up.”
Mira watched the curve of her mouth and the crinkle of her brow. She didn't look scared, just… anxious, yes, and also a little embarrassed?
She reached up and brushed a strand of hair that had escaped the ponytail over Rumi's ear. Rumi closed her eyes and leant into the touch, so she flattened her palm against her cheek instead, letting her breath tickle the knuckle of her thumb.
She simply lacked the emotional bandwidth to fully acknowledge that Rumi had sought out something of Mira’s to wear to soothe herself. It was adorable and heartbreaking in equal measure.
She was saved from having to linger on the thought when Zoey padded in, stretching her arms above her head. “Did you already-” she cut herself off when she saw them. “Oh. Is-… is everything okay?”
Rumi shrugged helplessly. The third chair scraped along the floor as Zoey dragged it out so she could sit facing them properly.
“What happened?” Zoey asked, all her exhaustion shaken free and replaced by concern.
Rumi took a deep breath and sat upright so she could fish her phone from her pocket. She mumbled, “We fucked up.”
Something cold slithered down Mira's spine.
Fucked up how? There were a thousand ways they could've fucked any number of things up, to varying severity.
“Bobby needs another raise fucked up, or fucked up fucked up?” Zoey asked carefully, echoing Mira's thoughts as she leaned forwards to look at what Rumi was doing.
Rumi opened a page on her phone and held it out for both of them to read.
Mira’s chest immediately felt tight.
On Rumi’s screen was a picture from the day before. A shock of pink hair and a purple braid and black space buns. A picture of her pinning Rumi to the wall, mouth on her neck, hands on her hips. It had been taken from behind Zoey, some distance down the corridor, zoomed in but not enough to distort their faces.
Rumi had warned her they were in public, but she’d checked, she’d-
“Fuck.” Mira breathed.
Underneath the picture was a paragraph confirming a member of the talkshow’s staff—who wished to remain anonymous—had seen them and taken the picture.
“Fuck.” Mira said, more emphatically. Her heart thundered against the inside of her ribs. She’d been so stupid. “I’m sorry, I-...”
“It’s not your fault. We could’ve stopped it if we wanted.” Zoey said quickly.
“Bobby’s doing damage control, but…” Rumi trailed off.
“How long has it been up?” Zoey asked, leaning forwards to squint at the screen.
Rumi turned her phone screen off and tossed it lightly to the counter. “A few hours. Bobby was too busy getting the interview pulled.”
Zoey took her own phone and tapped on it. After a few seconds she huffed. “It’s all over the place, but we could still-... I don’t know, deny it? Find a spin for it?”
Mira stared ahead. There weren’t many good options for them. Denying it would be the safest bet. That was what she should’ve said, what any of them should’ve said. Instead they sat in an uneasy silence.
She didn’t want to deny it. She didn’t want to treat them like that.
Her eyes flicked over to Rumi’s and found apprehension and, worse, acceptance, like she’d already given in and was willing to be someone’s dirty secret again.
She looked at Zoey, who was picking at her cuticles like her opinion on it didn’t matter.
They would not be hurt by this. She wasn’t going to let this make her hurt them.
“We should just tell everyone.” Mira said abruptly, almost casually. Rumi and Zoey’s heads both shot up to look at her. “I mean, so what if it damages our reputation?” she continued. “I’m not-... you guys aren’t something to be ashamed of.”
Zoey smiled brilliantly. “You big sap.”
“Yeah, well. I love you, so.” Mira said, cringing inwardly at herself for how she said it.
Rumi stared at Mira, then at Zoey. The cogs whirred in her head. “Are you-... I mean, I’d like to-... it won’t be easy.”
Mira hummed. She wasn’t wrong. The media would have a field day with it, and they’d become the subject of a discussion that Mira did not want to deal with, but hiding it would hurt all three of them eventually. It was never going to be a secret forever. The love she had for them had once fit inside her body, but now that she could let it out it expanded to fill every room she was in. She was an endless source of it. If she didn’t let it out of the penthouse soon it would start cracking the glass.
“I don’t mind it being difficult.” Mira said simply. “I mean, if either of you want to keep it a secret…”
“I want to tell people.” Zoey said. “Honestly it’s kind of a miracle I haven’t already?”
Mira snorted softly. “Proud of you, trouble.”
She didn’t miss the way Zoey’s ears went red. Of the three of them Zoey was the least predictable, but Mira knew which buttons to press.
Rumi was still staring at her, brows furrowed lightly. Mira leaned over and pressed a kiss to the wrinkle that formed there. “What are you thinking?”
“I just-... are you sure?” Rumi asked quietly.
Mira was working on forgiving Celine at Rumi’s request, she really was. Part of her also wanted to forgive her, to get back the parental figure she’d lost, but some days the knowledge that Rumi had spent twenty-four years hiding struck her in the chest and she had to bite down on her anger to stop it from spilling from her mouth.
“We’re sure if you’re sure.” Zoey said, putting a soothing hand on Rumi’s arm.
Rumi’s shoulders relaxed and she gave them a smile, small and sweet. “Okay. We should still get that article taken down, though.”
“I’m saving the picture first.” Zoey said. Mira exhaled a laugh.
Rumi snatched her phone from her hands. “Why?!”
“Because it’s- gimme- a hot picture- let go!” Zoey whined as Rumi pushed herself up onto the island counter and held Zoey’s phone above both of them.
“You can see us making out whenever you want.” Mira mused.
Zoey jumped up and snatched her phone back from Rumi’s raised hand. “Not like that though. Rumi needs to threaten people more often if it gets you that worked up.”
Heat rushed to Mira’s cheeks. She grumbled a “whatever” and looked away. When she risked a glance back she saw that Rumi was blushing too. Zoey gave a delighted cackle but otherwise didn't comment on it, which was suspiciously nice of her.
“So, what, do we just… make a post about it?” Zoey asked.
“I guess? I'll call Bobby. He'll probably have some ideas.” Rumi said, voice cracking a little.
If that kiss had got her so flustered maybe Zoey had a point. She'd die before she admitted it.
The announcement hadn't gone especially well, but it could have gone a lot worse. Rumi had confiscated both Mira and Zoey's phones for a few days to stop them from responding to homophobic comments and causing a new scandal. It had meant nobody was talking about the article anymore, at least.
Mira had her back phone now, but Zoey was on time out again after she responded to a comment saying that Rumi had cheated on them with Jinu. She'd only told them to worry about how annoying they were instead of worrying about Rumi, so the punishment felt a little harsh. Mira would've said worse.
She looked out the car window. They were tinted, but she could see how bright it was outside anyway by the way the sun bounced off the sunglasses of pedestrians and cast shadows in harsh, clean lines.
The fan signing they’d just finished had been her favourite they’d ever done, easily superseding their first one when she’d been made to face the reality that thousands of people admired her. They’d expected the numbers to drop, but they hadn’t. Anyone who’d not attended had been replaced by someone who was suddenly more interested in meeting them now that they knew they were alike. It was mostly young queer women, proudly displaying badges on their bags or patches on their jackets denoting their sexuality. A few had told them they’d been closeted up until the announcement. Some told them they still were, and the three of them were the first people they’d come out to.
Rumi and Zoey had openly cried about it. Mira had nearly joined them, her ‘thank you’s and ‘we love you too’s coming out thicker and more strained as the day went on. It wasn’t that she didn’t feel as intensely about it as they did, it was that there was a weight to the whole thing that sat on her heart and stopped the tears from falling freely.
If her only legacy was that she made a handful of queer people feel accepted and seen in a way she’d never been until she left home, she would’ve been just fine with that.
“We should get boba.” Rumi said, apropos of nothing. Mira leaned around Zoey to look at her.
Zoey perked up immediately and leaned forwards to speak to the chauffeur. They didn’t have the privacy window up this time. “Can you stop at that boba place by the tower?”
He glanced up at them in the rear view mirror. “Sure.”
“We can walk back from there. It’s only a few minutes.” Mira added. It would have taken longer to drive them around the block than for them to just walk, anyway, and it was an area where they were seen enough that people didn’t normally surround them, so they wouldn’t have to wait for security to escort them.
The shop owner, a kind elderly man, knew them well enough by now that he didn’t have to ask for their order, and didn’t make a big deal about seeing them either. It was why they went here so often, really. It was nice to be able to be somewhere they weren’t treated differently.
There weren’t any available seats inside, so they stood outside the shop in the shade of a nearby tree. It was a hot day, but not an especially humid one. Distantly, Mira was glad that Rumi didn’t have to cover up so much anymore. It couldn’t have been good for her to wear long sleeves on days like this. She looked at the way the dappled sunlight reflected off her patterns.
“So… that was a weird fan signing, huh?” Zoey said after a while.
Rumi nodded. “Not bad weird, though.”
“I don’t know how you didn’t cry.” Zoey said, looking at Mira.
Mira shrugged. “Honestly? Me neither. I think I’ll probably crash out about it later.”
Rumi snorted, amused, but then blinked when Zoey slipped her hand into hers and kissed her on the cheek. “What was that for?”
“Just because I can.” Zoey said with a shrug.
Mira found herself smiling fondly. Cute. They were cute, and they were hers, and it wasn’t a secret anymore. She plucked Zoey’s and Rumi’s empty cups from their hands and walked out from under the tree to put them in the bin for them.
That was when she saw them. She blinked slowly. They hadn’t changed much, just a few new wrinkles and looking a little greyer around the temples. If she had to hazard a guess, they probably hadn’t changed at all. They were always too stubborn for that.
She inherited it from somewhere, she supposed.
“Mira.” her father said, as if the last time he’d seen her was a few days ago and not a decade. A decade of peace, of learning what it felt like to be loved, of not being afraid of slammed doors and heavy footsteps.
They didn’t live anywhere near here. It wasn’t why they picked this location for the tower, but it was something Mira had been glad for.
Her throat suddenly felt dry, but she forced out a question. “Why are you here?”
It sounded thin and pathetic to her ears.
“We were just going for a walk.” her mother said mildly.
“Bullshit.” Mira hissed. She didn’t want to shout. She couldn’t risk drawing attention to this before she could resolve it. She didn’t want Rumi and Zoey to come over, didn’t want to expose them to her parents, didn’t want to put them at risk of her father’s closed fists or her mother’s quiet hatred.
“Language.” her mother said. Mira hated that, for half a second, she felt chided.
She was going to walk away from them—she’d done it before, she’d do it again—but then her mother spoke again. “Jong-su is doing well for himself. Did you know he’s getting married?”
It made her pause. She had to bite down the urge to ask. She’d loved her brother, once. She didn’t anymore. She had to remember that she didn’t anymore.
“Good for him.” Mira said tersely. “I don’t care.”
“We saw your announcement.” her father said, with the same icy tone that had always signalled the start of a storm. Her heart beat hard against her ribs. She’d been having a good day. Even if she walked away now, the rest of her day was going to carry the shadow of this conversation. The rest of her week would, just like the rest of her life would carry the echo of her childhood.
“Is that why you’re here? To call me a-” Mira snarled, but cut herself off when she saw her parent’s eyes flick to something over her shoulder.
Suddenly Rumi and Zoey were at her side. She wanted them to stay and save her as ferociously as she wanted them to leave and not see whatever was about to happen. If her father was a storm, she was a wildfire—he’d douse her eventually, but she’d burn as much as she could to ashes first.
“Is everything okay?” Rumi asked cautiously.
Zoey took Mira’s hand in her own and Mira squeezed on instinct. She hoped she didn’t notice the way she was shaking.
“Everything is fine. We were just having a conversation.” her father said. Mira watched her mothers eyes flick down to her and Zoey’s joined hands. Her expression didn’t change, but she could read her thoughts clearly. They were always the same, when it came to Mira.
Disappointment.
Always disappointment. She was too pathetic, too attention seeking, too aggressive to deserve anything else.
Mira’s world narrowed to the sources of pain in front of her and the way her heart shuddered against her straining lungs.
When her mother looked back up to Mira’s face her eyes caught on her neck and she stiffened. Mira’s free hand shot up to pull the collar of her jacket up over the lovebite. She’d covered it with makeup, but it was hot and she’d been busy all day. She had no idea how well it was hidden anymore. The movement caught her father’s attention.
Mira wished she had any control over how her body reacted, but it was instinctual, it had been taught to her young, it was ingrained in her.
When her father raised his hand to pull her collar back she flinched so hard she nearly collided with Zoey.
In an instant Rumi was standing in front of her while Zoey pressed to her side and anchored her to the present. Now she was shaking so hard there was no way it hadn’t been noticed, and she hated herself for it even more.
“Walk away.” Rumi said, low and dangerous. Her father raised his eyebrows at her, unimpressed. It was a look Mira was familiar with. He wouldn’t hit Rumi like he hit her, she knew he wouldn’t, but the fear of it made her tug Rumi’s arm back.
Rumi stayed where she was. She didn’t even look over her shoulder.
“We’re allowed to speak to our daughter.” her father said.
“I haven’t been your daughter in a long time.” Mira snapped before she could stop herself. She was still trying to keep her voice low, but she couldn’t help the way it raised. She felt like a cornered animal, wild and dangerous and so fucking pathetic in her desire to escape. She had to force herself to remember that she wasn’t one, that she’d been let inside and shown the warmth of affection, that the only people who could hold her leash now were right next to her, snarling in her defense.
Her father sighed through his nose. He would have hit her for that before. If Rumi and Zoey weren’t here he still might have. The idea sent anger flooding through her, that he was still looking at her like an unruly teenager who’d been caught sneaking out for the third time in a week, that he’d still try and cow her into obedience.
But she was still afraid of him, and her mother was still watching her like she deserved whatever awful thing happened to her.
She squeezed Zoey’s hand to try and ground herself. She’d never had control as a teenager, but she had control now. Control over herself, her anger, her circumstances. She wouldn’t let him turn her back into the person she used to be. She wouldn’t be that person anymore.
“You must be Rumi and Zoey.” her father said, as if he wasn’t sure. He probably wasn’t. It wasn’t like he’d ever listened to Mira before, so why would he listen to her sing?
“Leave.” Zoey said in response. Underneath the strange numbness filling her limbs she was fiercely proud of both of them for not giving them an inch. If they were given an inch to hold onto, her parents wouldn’t stop pulling on it until they’d taken everything.
“I’m not surprised you did this,” her father said, ignoring Zoey in favour of looking at Mira over Rumi’s shoulder. “You always did crave attention. I just wish you’d stop dragging us through the mud with you. We were finally proud of you when you achieved all of this, but dating-”
She’d barely had time to register what he was saying before Rumi was taking a step forward. Zoey was always the fastest of them, though.
The world slowed. Zoey let go of her hand and took a few steps forwards, jaw clenched so tightly Mira could see the way it trembled, hand already balled into a fist and elbow pulling back. Rumi reached out to grab her, but it was a half-hearted attempt at best and nowhere near quick enough to stop Zoey’s fist from colliding with her father’s cruel mouth.
Everything exploded in motion, then. Rumi took Zoey’s arm and pulled her away at the same time as her father recoiled and covered his mouth with his palm. He didn’t move fast enough for Mira to not see the way thick red blood spilled from his lips. He might have lost some teeth from it. Her mother shouted something in a panic.
The rest of the street flooded back in. Other people were shouting and running over to help her father. Rumi grabbed Mira’s bicep and turned her around to face her. Her brain was spinning on its axis. Zoey had just hit her father.
“Let’s go home, okay?” Rumi said near Mira’s ear, her hand sliding up to her shoulder to guide her. She glanced over her shoulder and saw that father was glaring at her through the involuntary tears that always sprung when someone was hit in the face.
Mira knew it well.
Blood dribbled down his chin and onto his shirt. She’d seen him look this angry before, and it had frightened her back then. She didn’t like that it still frightened her now.
He’d looked like that the day she ran away from home.
The rest of the walk back to the penthouse was a blur. Rumi took her hand and led in front while Zoey stayed a few steps behind, as if she was worried Mira’s parents would follow them. They wouldn’t after that. She came from a long line of cowards, and Zoey had hit her father.
She started to feel a little more aware by the time she was being sat on the couch. Her hands were shaking, probably from adrenaline. Zoey sat next to her while Rumi headed to the kitchen.
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t’ve-” Zoey started.
Mira looked up at her. “Don’t be.”
“He was just insulting you and saying shit like he was ‘finally proud’, as if you’re not one of the most impressive people in the world? It’s bullshit. He shouldn’t- and he tried to reach for you! Before! I’m so sorry we didn’t come over right away. We didn’t realise they were your parents-”
“Mira.” Rumi said as she walked over from the kitchen, tissues in hand. “Are you angry at her? At us?”
“No.” Mira said immediately. She looked at Zoey. “No. That was- I-...” she reached to take Zoey’s hands in hers. “Thank you. Both-”
Her thumb swiped over something hot and wet and she looked down. A streak of red trailed from where her thumb had been to where it was now. Zoey’s knuckles were bleeding, probably from where they’d connected with her father’s teeth.
It was typical that he’d find a way to leave a mark, even when he lost.
“Zoey…” Mira started slowly.
“Worth it.” Zoey, firm.
Mira exchanged a look with Rumi and was relieved when Rumi handed over the tissues. Zoey getting hurt was her fault, she should be the one to tend to the wound.
Zoey hissed lightly through her teeth when Mira pressed the tissue firmly against the teeth marks.
“You should wash this properly.” Mira said. She’d never split her knuckles over someone’s mouth before, but she knew how prone bites were to getting infected.
Actually, she knew that from Zoey. She remembered her telling them both about it once when they were cleaning a bite from a demon. She’d wondered if demon mouths carried bacteria too. The conversation had distracted Mira from the pain of Rumi sterilizing it. She wasn’t as good with words as Zoey was, so she couldn’t return that favour.
“Are you okay?” Rumi asked gently. It took Mira a moment to realise the question was aimed at her.
She considered lying, but it would’ve been unfair to all of them. “Not really, but I will be.”
She had to be. Letting her parents hurt her through a conversation that hadn’t even lasted five minutes was humiliating enough. She wasn’t going to be more pathetic in front of Rumi and Zoey than she already had been. She couldn’t let her family have that sort of control over her again.
Mira stood, pulling Zoey with her gently. Rumi followed them over to the kitchen sink without a word. She turned on the water and held Zoey’s hand under it. Zoey winced again, but she didn’t try to pull away. They’d all had much worse wounds than this before, they knew what to expect.
She ran her thumb over the thin line at Zoey’s knuckle. It had gone down to the bone, but that wasn’t surprising—the skin was thin there, and it broke easily. It did mean that Zoey would have limited movement in her dominant hand for a while, though. They didn’t have any more signings for a while, so they could probably get away with it.
She kept Zoey’s hand still with a gentle grip around her wrist until the water turned pink, then clear, and then very gently cleaned it with soap. Zoey’s hand twitched at the pain of it. She was doing an admirable job of pretending it didn’t hurt, but Mira knew it did, so she tried to be as gentle as she could.
“It was a good punch, by the way.” Rumi mused as she fished out the first aid kit and retrieved a clean bandage. Mira hummed in agreement as she dabbed at the wound with some tissue to dry it. Her form was good, she just shouldn’t have aimed for the mouth.
Zoey gave a lopsided grin. “Thanks. I wish I’d hit him harder.”
Mira huffed a laugh. “Me too.”
She held her hand still while Rumi wrapped the bandage tightly around her knuckles, then pressed a kiss to the wound after she secured it.
Mira didn’t bother to tell them not to protect her. It wasn’t an argument she’d win.
It took a couple of days for the video to get released, which was surprising. Mira had watched it a few times since then. Someone had started recording as soon as she flinched away and kept recording until the three of them had rounded the corner.
Seeing herself being led so bonelessly bothered her. If her father had struck back, tried to hurt Zoey in retaliation, she was sure she’d have been able to intervene at the time, but looking at her expression in the video now…
Maybe she’d have just stood there and let it happen, like she had the first few times her father hit her.
Her phone was plucked from her grip and tossed lightly to the bottom of the bed. Rumi uncurled from her side and sat up, shuffling onto her knees next to her.
“Stop watching it.” Rumi chided gently. Mira grumbled and leaned back.
“Maybe I just want to see Zoey punch him again.” she said.
Rumi narrowed her eyes a little. “Then why do you look so sad?”
Mira paused. Did she look sad? She didn’t think her face was doing anything in particular, but Rumi always had been perceptive, so-
Her thoughts were graciously stopped with a gentle kiss. Her hand came up to cup Rumi’s jaw, and he found herself kissing back, slow and lazy. Rumi pulled back a little and smiled softly down at her. That smile would’ve stopped her thoughts from racing just as surely as the kiss did.
Zoey didn’t announce herself when she came in, just flopped down on the bed next to Mira and curled up against her side, cheek to her shoulder, knee kicked up over her hips. Mira wrapped an arm around her and pulled her closer. Rumi took Zoey’s bandaged hand in her own and rested both of them over Mira’s steadily beating heart.
“Didn’t go well?” Mira asked. Zoey had left the room to answer a call from Bobby. Mira and Rumi had a sneaking suspicion they knew what it was about.
Zoey sighed. “Bobby said they’re not pressing charges.”
“That’s good.” Rumi said, almost suspicious.
Zoey buried her face into Mira’s shoulder for a moment. Mira could feel the heat of her breath through her pyjama shirt. After a while, she looked back up. “It is, it’s just-... ugh. I was just so angry at him. For showing up, for talking to you as if he had a right to just-” Zoey cut herself off and said, more softly. “Sorry. I’m sorry.”
Mira pressed a kiss to her hair. “I’m not angry at you.”
“It was actually kinda hot.” Rumi mused absently.
She froze when Mira and Zoey stared at her. It wasn’t that Rumi didn’t tell them what she thought was hot, it was just that it usually had to be coaxed out of her.
Her expression grew indignant. “What, you can say it’s hot when I get protective, but I can’t-”
Zoey’s upset had been immediately forgotten, it seemed, because in seconds she was leaning over Mira’s chest and flattening her uninjured hand against Rumi’s collarbone.
“Is that right? You think it’s hot when I fight?” Zoey teased. Mira laughed and put a hand on Zoey’s hip to steady her. Her moods were always a lightswitch, ready to flick on or off at the gentlest push. It was cute when it wasn’t being detrimental.
Rumi’s eyes flicked between them, looking for all the world like a deer in headlights. Mira would’ve felt bad about it, but this was a trap of her own making. She knew how Zoey would react. She couldn’t be that oblivious, surely.
Then again, it was Rumi.
Mira’s muscles twitched when Zoey put a hand on her stomach for balance as she leaned closer to Rumi’s blushing face. “Answer me, Rumi.”
Rumi looked down at Mira for help. Mira gave her a small shrug. She could use a distraction, too, and Zoey was nothing if not distracting.
Zoey’s hand slid up from her shoulder to the back of her hair and tugged, forcing Rumi to look back at her and drawing a low whine from her throat. It was honestly impressive how quickly she’d gone from frustrated to this.
“Do you like it when I fight for you? For both of you?” Zoey asked, her eyes dark and narrowed and mischievous. Heat coiled lazily in Mira’s stomach. Maybe she should be alarmed at how quickly she was being turned on by this, too, except it wasn’t really a surprise.
“I-... what?” Rumi asked.
“It’s okay if you do.” Zoey teased. “You already know how hot we think it is when you do.”
Mira licked her lips before she spoke. “I’m sure we can show you again, if you forgot.”
Rumi’s look was one of betrayal, immediately followed by surprise when Mira slid out from beneath them, dislodging Zoey’s hand, and pressed her mouth close to her ear.
“Does thinking about Zoey snarling make you wet?” Mira whispered.
Rumi opened and closed her mouth a few times, looking between them. One day she’d have enough confidence to team up with her to put Zoey in her place, but today probably wasn’t that day. A small part of her hoped she’d team up with Zoey to-... but that was too much to think about right now. Too much control to give up.
It was just too much fun to do this to Rumi, anyway.
“No, I-” Rumi started.
“Don’t lie.” Zoey warned, tightening her grip in Rumi’s hair. Mira watched the column of Rumi’s throat bob as she swallowed. Light rippled through her patterns.
Eventually, Rumi said, “Yes.”
“Good girl.” Zoey said, softer now, as she released her grip on her hair. Mira didn’t have to be touching her to know how her body reacted to it—she reacted to it too, and it wasn’t even aimed at her. Both of Rumi’s hands fell to the bedsheets, and Mira got the distinct feeling that if she scratched under her chin she’d lean into it. She gave up control so easily for them. She let it slip through her fingers like water the second she knew they’d be there to catch her.
She wished she could be the same, but she always had to cling to the last few drops. She’d been thirsty for control for too long to risk losing it again, no matter how badly she wanted to.
“Have I been on your mind this whole time?” Zoey asked with a smirk.
“...Maybe.” Rumi mumbled. Mira chuckled quietly. She needed to act if she wanted to keep herself out of her thoughts.
“Why don’t you show us?” Mira said.
Rumi turned her head to look at her, blinking. “What?”
“Show us what you do when you think about us.” Mira said, slow and mean. Rumi looked between them again. Mira took mercy on her and put a hand on her shoulder, gently twisting her and laying her down on her back with her head against the pillows. She dropped down to her elbow next to her and traced her fingers over Rumi’s stomach idly.
Zoey sat on her haunches at Rumi’s feet, hands sliding up her calves slowly, almost soothingly.
“I-...” she trailed off, then, “You want to… watch?”
Zoey hummed, her hands inching further up until they were touching the hem of her shorts. Mira could see the way the muscles in Rumi’s thighs twitched in response and had to resist the urge to sink her teeth into the meat of them.
“Can I take these off, baby?” Zoey asked, tugging on Rumi’s shorts slightly. Rumi nodded, her breath hitching when Mira’s hand slid under her shirt and along the muscles of her abdomen. She didn’t have to look to know where Rumi’s patterns were—she’d memorised them the first time they slept together, first with her hands and then with her lips and tongue—so it was easy enough to scratch lightly at the ones that curled across her ribs. Rumi twitched into the touch, her eyelids fluttering.
She looked away from Rumi’s face when she heard the sound of clothes hitting the floor, down past where her hand was still moving idly against her stomach to the patch of curls at the apex of her thighs. She wanted a taste, but Zoey clearly wanted control tonight, and she’d definitely earned it, so she’d wait. She’d do anything for them. Instead, she pushed her hand further up Rumi’s torso, pulling her shirt up and giving Zoey an eyeful of Rumi’s abs to boot.
“This, too.” Mira said low in Rumi’s ear as she pulled her shirt further up. Rumi crossed her arms over the hem of her shirt and pulled it over her head as Mira withdrew her hand and helped prop her up. With the shirt gone, she could freely admire the way Rumi’s patterns, glowing faintly with a soft pink light, trailed along her breasts, almost touching her nipples. It was a shame they didn’t. Her patterns were sensitive, and she wondered just how much more sensitive they’d have been somewhere like that.
Zoey’s hands were back on Rumi’s thighs, grip firm enough to dimple the skin but not so harsh it would leave marks—not yet, anyway. Rumi looked between them again, as if they might have changed their mind about their instructions. They hadn’t. They never gave an order they didn’t want Rumi to follow, and Rumi had never followed an order she genuinely didn’t want to.
Still, Mira sat up a little and said, “Colour?”
Rumi blinked, then gave her a grateful smile. “Green. Just nervous.”
“We’ll take care of you.” Mira soothed, giving her an appreciative kiss on her jaw before she settled back down against her side. From here she could tease Rumi and watch her hand, even if her view wasn’t going to be as good as Zoey’s was.
Rumi’s hand slid down her stomach slowly and Mira rested her chin in her palm to watch. Her eyes flicked up to Zoey’s when Rumi circled her clit slowly. Her pupils were blown out, but her mouth was set in a devious little smile that sent sparks of heat to Mira’s core.
She looked back down when she heard Rumi’s inhales become shakier. Her fingers still moved slowly.
Mira hummed. “I don’t think this is how you fuck yourself thinking about us, baby. Are you lying?” Rumi looked at her, the browns of her eyes almost hidden entirely by how blown out her pupils were. “Show us what you really do.”
Rumi whined softly, then muttered, “Assholes.”
The steady pulsing of her patterns gave her away. Both Mira and Zoey laughed, not unkindly, and Rumi’s lips curved into a small, genuine smile.
She felt Rumi’s knees twitch as she tried to close her legs, but Zoey held them open as she dipped her fingers into her arousal, wetting them before she pushed two inside of herself.
“Good.” Zoey crooned. “Always so obedient for us, aren’t you?”
Rumi gave a shaky nod, the pace of her fingers increasing. She leaned forwards and ghosted her lips over Rumi’s neck and Rumi tilted her head back to give her room to press her teeth to her pulse point. She felt Rumi’s responding moan low in her stomach, but she wouldn’t bite, not there. Not somewhere hard to hide. Instead she mouthed down to her collarbone and sucked the skin there until it left a deep red bruise for Rumi to admire later. Rumi’s free hand shot up to cup Mira’s face, encouraging, enabling.
Mira hummed against her skin and dipped her head lower-
“Mira.” Zoey said. She paused and tilted her head to look at her. “I’ve got a better use for your mouth, since I can’t use my hand.”
An unpleasant, oily guilt sank through the arousal, but Mira pushed through. She wasn’t going to stop the night over something like that, and she wanted Zoey to use her to get herself off, anyway. Instead, she gave the swell of Rumi’s breast a placating kiss, pushed her arm away, and sat up.
“C’mere.” Zoey said, patting the bed in front of her. Rumi watched with hungry eyes as Mira crawled past her over to Zoey and sat in front of her, almost obedient, almost the person she-
She forced her attention back to Zoey as she undressed herself, slowly, teasingly, eyes flicking over to Rumi to make sure she was still watching. Mira knew she was, she could feel the intensity of her stare on the side of her face. She did like attention, she always had, but these days she found she only really craved it from Rumi and Zoey, and that was something she never had to fight for.
Zoey lay back on her elbows. When Mira moved between her legs she stopped her from lying down by pulling her over by the collar of her shirt and into a kiss. Mira braced herself with her hands on either side of her hips, swiping her tongue across Zoey’s lower lip and licking into her mouth eagerly, swallowing the pleased gasps tumbling from her mouth. When she pulled back it was by necessity of needing to breathe, but she took the time to admire Zoey’s swollen lips and dark eyes too. She could hear Rumi’s fingers working.
“I want to taste you.” Mira said. It sounded a little whinier than she’d intended, but whatever. She was desperate for them. She didn’t mind them knowing.
Zoey hummed, almost amused. “Look at you, being so polite.”
“Zoey…” Mira warned.
“Go on. But only because Rumi’s not allowed to come until I do, and I don’t think she can wait that long.” Zoey said.
Mira glanced over to Rumi in time to see her eyes widen and her hand slow down.
“Wait, I- that isn’t-...” Rumi whined, breathless and needy.
“You’ll get a reward if you can wait for us.” Zoey soothed. Rumi swallowed and nodded. “You can slow down if you need to, but don’t stop.”
It was kinder than Mira would’ve been, so Rumi was lucky tonight.
Zoey gave Mira another kiss, softer this time, before tapping her shoulder. Mira slid down and nestled between her thighs, rucking her knees up over her shoulders to give herself better access. Zoey was glistening. She flicked her eyes up to her and pressed a kiss to her inner thigh, then another further up.
Zoey gave a breathless laugh. “You’re teasing Rumi more than you’re teasing me, y’know.”
Mira hummed, close enough to her folds that the exhale made Zoey’s legs twitch slightly. “Maybe I want to tease you both.”
“Don’t be a brat.” Zoey said, warning. “I know you’re just waiting for me to take what I want.”
God, she was. Rumi made a frustrated sound to her side. Mira had been about to call her impatient, like a hypocrite, but-
“Please.” Rumi whined. Mira lifted her head up a little to look at her, at the slow pace her fingers were setting, at her slack jaw, at the rise and fall of her chest, at how wet she was.
“Are you begging for Mira to eat me out? Do you like watching that much?” Zoey asked, voice catching on a mean little laugh.
“No, I-... I just want-... please.”
Rumi was so pretty when she begged.
“You need to ask Mir- oh, fuck.” Zoey was cut off by Mira lowering her head and dragging her tongue through her folds, slowly at first, savouring the taste of her. She wrapped her arms firmly around Zoey’s thighs. Mira wanted to make both of them fall apart now. She wanted to hear them.
She pulled back enough to say, “Use me. I’m yours.”
Before she could get a response, she flicked her tongue against Zoey’s clit then pressed her tongue inside of her eagerly. Zoey’s hand shot down to grab a handful of her hair and tugged sharply. The sharp sting of it spurred her on, made her press closer until her nose was nudging against Zoey’s clit.
Zoey’s hips bucked impatiently despite her pace, because Zoey was always greedy, always wanting more, so Mira slipped her tongue out and held it flat against her clit, letting her fuck herself against her, digging her nails into the meat of her thighs until Zoey moaned her name. Every sound, every tug against her hair, went straight to Mira’s cunt.
“So pretty when you’re- god- between my legs. Best place for you to be.” Zoey murmured, almost in awe. She always seemed to be surprised that Mira was willing to submit.
She watched Zoey’s head tilt back, still holding herself up with one elbow, the hand that wasn’t in her hair clawing into the bedsheets in a way that must have hurt, with her injury. To her side, she could hear the wet sounds of Rumi’s fingers and her breathy moans, she could hear when she slowed down, when she sped back up. She wondered how many times she’d already denied herself just because Zoey told her to, and Rumi was good and obedient. She could give up control completely.
Mira wrapped her lips around Zoey’s clit and sucked, sliding two fingers inside of her and curling upwards. She felt the bed shake slightly when Zoey’s arm gave out and she landed on her back. Or, upper back, because she was immediately arching into Mira’s mouth.
“Mira, fuck- don’t stop-” Zoey moaned.
She increased the pace with her fingers, rubbing them along Zoey’s inner wall, pushing her closer and closer to the edge until she clenched down hard around her with a long, low, gasping moan. She slowed down, easing her through the aftershocks, until Zoey tapped her head. She pressed a kiss to her thigh before she pulled away to admire her work.
Zoey’s chest heaved as she caught her breath. Mira ran her hands up and down her thighs lightly. For a moment she felt warm and satisfied, as if she’d been the one to get eaten out, but then a moan to her side grabbed her attention.
“Stop.” Zoey said quickly.
Rumi’s hand stilled inside herself immediately, though her hips twitched with the effort of staying still, and she furrowed her brow. “But I-... you said-...”
“I know. But you waited. Don’t you want your reward, pretty girl?” Zoey cooed, still breathless but pushing herself back up onto her elbows now. Mira glanced at the bandage around her hand and was relieved to see the wound hadn’t started bleeding again.
Rumi withdrew her hand from herself completely, and, god, she was soaked. She rested her trembling hand against her thigh, as if moving it too far away was unbearable, and looked between Zoey and Mira. “What’s my reward?”
“Want Mira to fuck you with the strap?” Zoey asked, almost casual, as if it wasn’t something that made both Rumi and Mira unbelievably horny. Mira was the reward. Before she could wrestle control over herself, Mira looked at Rumi pleadingly.
“Yeah- yes.” Rumi said, stumbling over her words slightly.
Zoey nudged Mira’s shoulder and Mira put a concerted effort into not scrambling off the bed in her eagerness. She could hear Zoey saying something to Rumi behind her as she stripped out of her clothes and retrieved the harness from her wardrobe and put it on, something soothing, maybe, or encouraging. She had done well. She picked the toy Rumi liked best and slipped it into the o-ring.
Zoey had moved to Rumi’s side to press lazy kisses to her neck and jaw. They both looked at her when she rejoined them, Zoey looking blissed out and pleased, Rumi looking glassy-eyed and desperate. She took some lube from her bedside table and applied it liberally, though she suspected she wouldn’t actually need it from the state of Rumi. Still, she wasn't going to take risks with Rumi's comfort.
She didn’t waste time, bracing one hand near Rumi’s head and lining herself up with her entrance with the other. She looked into Rumi’s eyes, waiting for her to give her permission. She was relieved she wasn’t made to wait long, because Rumi’s lips curved up into a tiny smile as she nodded.
There wasn’t any reason for her to do it, but she found herself looking at Zoey for permission as well. Her brain was feeling light and floaty in her skull. A tiny part of her tried to scramble for a sense of control, to pull her back to her senses, but it wasn’t louder than her animal need to please them both.
Zoey’s dopey smile flickered into something a little crueller, something that sent heat straight back to Mira’s core. She nearly whimpered at the sight of it.
“Use your words.” Zoey said slowly.
“Please, Zoey- I-” Rumi started, always obedient.
Zoey shook her head. “Not you. Mira, ask for permission.”
Mira stared at Zoey for a second, disbelieving. Not that she’d given the instruction, that wasn’t a surprise, but at just how badly she wanted to follow it.
“...Please.” Mira said, voice rough with need. At least she hadn’t whined.
“Please what?” Zoey asked, sing-song.
Then she whined. “Please let me- let me fuck her.”
Zoey hummed. “That’s more like it. Go on, make her feel good.”
She didn’t need any persuading. It took all of her self-control to push into Rumi slowly, to give her time to adjust to the stretch. She moved her hand to hold her hip, less to control her and more to stop her from bucking impatiently. She didn’t want her eagerness—or Mira’s own, for that matter—to get her hurt.
Rumi wrapped her arms around Mira’s neck and it grounded her, helped her keep her mind present instead of retreating all the way into that inviting emptiness.
She thrust into her slowly, reverently, as if she couldn’t believe she was allowed to do this even though she’d done it dozens of times before. She’d never been a religious person, but being used by Zoey and Rumi like this, making them feel good, being theirs, was as close as she’d ever felt.
“Mira-... more.” Rumi whined, and Mira obeyed. She increased her pace until she could hear the smacking of her hips against Rumi’s skin, just underneath the litany of whines and moans tumbling from Rumi’s mouth. In her periphery she saw Zoey’s hand slide down Rumi’s torso, down to her clit.
“God, you’re both so pretty. So needy.” Zoey said breathlessly. Mira fucked into Rumi harder, angling her hips until she struck the spot inside Rumi that made her moan so loud it was nearly a sob.
It didn’t take long for Rumi to come undone with Mira’s name on her lips. Rumi pulled her closer until her head was nearly buried in the crook of her neck as she fucked her through it.
Mira’s own orgasm caught her completely off guard. She hadn’t even noticed it building, too focused on Rumi’s pleasure. She groaned low in her throat as her hips stuttered, the pressure of the base of the strap against her oversensitive clit tumbling from pleasure to discomfort. She carefully pulled out of Rumi and rolled onto her back before she collapsed onto her.
“Did you just-... did you come just from fucking Rumi?” Zoey said brightly, right on the edge of teasing. She couldn’t exactly deny it, so Mira just gave a shaky nod. “Did she feel that good, or were you just desperate?”
Zoey appeared above her, straddling her, pressing herself against the head of the strap.
Normally Mira liked this. She liked it when Zoey teased, when she insulted her, when she pushed her buttons until she snapped back and wrestled for control. On a different day she might have flipped them over and fucked Zoey so hard the only word she could remember was ‘Mira’, or she might have fallen the other way and begged Zoey to take what she wanted, but her mind was floating too far away, and instead of feeling a spark of heat she felt a spark of something slow and unpleasant. Her brain wasn’t cooperating anymore.
“That was kinda pathetic, don’t you think?” Zoey said.
The fear had crept up on her as quickly as the orgasm had. She saw Zoey tilt her head, the mean little smile dropping from her face in an instant.
She felt like she was falling. She scrambled to stay in the present, to stay in control, to do anything, but her body wasn't listening to her brain's instructions, and her brain was off wandering into something soft and blissfully unaware anyway.
“Mira? Colour?” Zoey said, voice suddenly kind and gentle.
Instead of hitting the ground, she hit a safety net.
“Red. Fuck- red.” Mira choked out.
“Shit.” Zoey said softly, immediately climbing off her.
Mira curled onto her side, almost involuntarily. She fumbled with the buckles of the harness, hands unsteady and numb, because she suddenly couldn’t stand the sensation of it on her skin.
“Mira.” Rumi said, still a little foggy, but rapidly coming back to the present. A distant part of Mira felt guilty from pulling her out of that headspace so quickly. “Do you need help?”
“I-... please.” Mira said. She didn’t like how her voice was shaking, and she liked the way she flinched when Rumi and Zoey’s hands brushed hers away to help remove the harness even less.
“Can we touch you?” Zoey asked from somewhere in front of her once the harness was gone.
She wanted the answer to be yes, but it wasn’t. She closed her eyes tightly and shook her head. “Just-... just a minute. Just give me a minute.”
“Okay. Just take deep breaths.” Zoey said slowly. Mira wasn’t struggling to breathe, this wasn’t a panic attack, but she followed the instruction anyway.
Slowly, the fog vacated her mind and her senses trickled back in. Zoey and Rumi were sat in front of her, Zoey in one of Mira’s shirts and Rumi with the blanket over her lap. Rumi was watching her, but Zoey was picking at her bandaged hand.
“...Sorry.” Mira mumbled. “I don’t-... I don’t know what happened.”
Zoey looked up and smiled. “You don’t need to apologise. I went too far, I should’ve checked in sooner.”
Mira rolled onto her back, still feeling a little groggy and boneless, but also a lot calmer. “I would’ve said green like… five seconds earlier. I like it when you talk to me like that. You know I do.”
“It was when I called you pathetic, right? Is that-... I thought it was something I’d said before, but maybe not?” Zoey hedged.
Mira couldn’t remember, either. Zoey said a lot of things when they fucked, and none of it had upset Mira before.
“It was just… a lot. I think. Too much, with-...” she trailed off. She wasn’t sure what had made it too much.
“Can we touch you now?” Rumi asked softly.
“...Yeah. Please.” Mira said, and then she was being bracketed by both of them, cradled securely and safely in the warmth of their skin and the softness of the blanket as it was pulled over them. She exhaled shakily.
They didn’t push her for more information, which gave her brain time to supply it. Eventually, she said, “I think-... after I-... I was feeling a little... foggy, I guess. And then you said that, and it just…”
Rumi blinked slowly. “Oh.” Both Zoey and Mira looked at her. “Too little control, right? I know that you don’t like to uh- receive when you’re being talked to like that. But you-...” Rumi gestured vaguely to the harness, which had been hastily tossed from the bed as if that might have been the problem.
Mira considered it. She could give up control to them—she liked to give up control to them, even—but not all of it. She always needed to cling to that last piece, either because she was giving, or because she was in charge. She couldn’t let herself drift fully into that headspace that Rumi liked so much even if she wanted to—and she did want to—because she’d been fighting to have some control her entire life and having it taken from her was, frankly, terrifying.
In the past week she’d had so much control ripped from her, with her parents, with the talkshow, with the scandals that she was responsible for. Maybe it had just been a bad time to submit. Maybe she should’ve stayed in control all night. Zoey wouldn’t have minded.
“...Yeah. I think you’re right. Just… wrong night, wrong words.” Mira said. Rumi rested her head against Mira’s shoulder.
Zoey laced her fingers together with Mira’s. “Okay, so, lesson learned. No teasing after you come, and I’ll check in with you about control first,” she said plainly, because unlike Rumi she never shied away from the subject, especially when it came to Rumi and Mira's comfort and safety, “You feeling okay now?”
Mira considered that, too. She was. It hadn’t even taken a full minute to get her senses back, she didn’t think. It wasn’t like the time Rumi had called red and it had taken them nearly an hour to calm her down. A small part of her felt like she should feel bad for stopping them, but she didn’t. If anything, it was reassuring. Zoey had noticed something was wrong before Mira had even said anything. She had the feeling Zoey would’ve stopped even if she’d said green if her worried expression was anything to go by.
No matter how much control she gave up, she never really lost it. Not with Zoey and Rumi. It was a fact she already knew, because if she even got a hint that they were uncomfortable when she was in charge she’d stop everything immediately. They had as much control as she did, if not more, and she knew that, but she’d never been on the receiving end of needing to snatch that control back so suddenly.
She felt unexpectedly soothed by it.
“Yeah. I’m okay.” Mira said, and then, because it was true, "I love you."