Whimsy💫💜

"What's that?"

Celine straightened at Zoey's question and, shading her eyes, looked out across the planting beds towards the woods bordering the grounds of the hanok. Boughs laden with crimson-tipped buds waving gently in the breeze; a sparrow darting amidst the dappled shadows; the Honmoon shimmering peacefully above; overall a peaceful albeit unremarkable scene.

And yet Zoey had glimpsed something obviously unusual.

"What's what?" Celine turned from the vista to where Zoey was supposed to be planting carrots. The young woman was staring at Celine with-

Uh oh.

-with her Sunlight Sisters Fangirl(tm) look.

Celine suppressed a groan. She loved Zoey, really; in a surprisingly short time her and Mira had become like daughters to her, to the point where they opted to spend parents' day with her and she had ceased objecting. She loved her enthusiasm for music, her zest for life, and how passionate she was about her special interests.

She just…didn't always love being one of those special interests.

Wordlessly, Zoey lifted an arm, bent it at the elbow, and pointed at the small of her own back.

That was all it took for realization to click and Celine to mentally hurl every curse in the book and then some at her teenage self.

And also at herself for pairing low-rise jeans with a decision to show her support of Rumi by showing more skin.

A very bad combination.

"Nothing important," Celine said lightly, stepping around the planting box to work on the one behind Zoey, taking care to hike up the waistband of her jeans.

"It's something…" Mira, from where she was helping Rumi stake tomatoes (in the loosest sense possible, what with 'official stake holder' being something of an empty title), said in a singsong.

"It's really not." Celine knelt by her strategically chosen bed and started re-smoothing dirt over hills of beans.

Apparently, for the Youth of Today, that was akin to an incriminating remark. Zoey spun away from her carrots and, leaning on the edge of the box, shoved her face so close that Celine could count her freckles. "OMG. Do you have a tramp stamp?!?"

Snap! went the stake Rumi was positioning.

Celine blinked, years of being first an idol then a CEO and never letting herself be caught off-guard by a question dissolved in an instant. A heat that had nothing to do with the late-morning sun rose up her neck.

"You do!" Mira sounded far too delighted.

Silence was also incriminating.

"Girls! Come on!" Rumi- may the Honmoon bless and keep Rumi a thousand times over- shot her girls a withering look. "This is Celine you're talking about. Celine, who you both agreed is a stick in the mud."

Celine supposed she should take offense at that, but she was an intelligent woman; intelligent enough to not challenge her defense.

Rumi made a sound like the very idea was ridiculous. "You probably saw a mole or scar or something. She wouldn't get a tattoo. Especially a tramp stamp. Right, Celine?"

"And remember!" Before Celine could agree, Mira ducked her chin to peer over her glasses at Celine. "No more secrets. No more lies."

Celine cringed like Mira's words were a whip biting a reminder across her back. Right.

She cursed her one-year-ago self.

Rumi blanched, Celine's abstaining from instant agreement crashing over her like icemelt. "Right?" The desperation in her voice was palpable.

Sighing heavily, Celine stood. May as well get this over with. Turning around, she shifted her stance and, deafening her ears to the sounds Zoey was making behind her, tugged down her jeans just enough to show it.

That goddamn tramp stamp.

The tomato stakes clattered to the ground.

"I was…impulsive, in my youth," she said, rubbing her neck awkwardly as she felt all three girls stare.

"And you wound up with a tramp stamp how?" Mira asked, apparently the only member of Huntrix whose brain was functioning at the moment.

Oh how she wished she hadn't asked…

"I was young. I wanted to be cool. And sexy. I thought this was a good way to do it."

Mira barked a laugh; Zoey made another sound Celine chose to not hear; Rumi was still silent.

"And if you must know," Celine continued, deciding she may as well give the full story and create a teachable moment. "I chose a place of poor repute and it got infected, so my mentors found out." And Honmoon, how she wished she could forget that day. "If you get tattoos- when you are no longer under contract- choose your parlor wisely and ask to see all their licenses."

"Yes ma'am." Mira was not even bothering to hide the laughter in her voice.

Deciding she'd given them ample time for ogling Celine turned back around. She was met with one smirk, one fangirl whose face was a danger to the naked eye, and one Rumi redder than the future tomatoes.

Time to get things back on track.

And off her…vestige of undeveloped critical thinking skills.

Before she disappeared into the woods and never rejoined society.

Clearing her throat, she tipped her head at Zoey's bare planting bed. "Now, I would like to have carrots come-"

"THAT IS SO COOL!!!!" Zoey shrieked loud enough Celine swore the Honmoon flinched. "You don't know how many headcanons this matches up with!"

Oh, she knew. She wished she didn't.

"Ugh…" Rumi rubbed her eyes as Zoey continued babbling about how "I always pegged you as the one to have a secret tattoo" and "it really suits you" (should she take that as a compliment…?). "I did not need to see that…"

"What?" Mira poked Rumi with a tomato stake. "You don't think she looks hot with it?"

Celine fought the urge to pull her shoulders up to her ears. Could this get any more embarrassing?

"Why didn't you get it removed?" Rumi asked, pointedly ignoring Mira's question. "We're rich!"

Celine winced. Apparently, it could. "Well, your mother liked it…"