Rumi was in a rare drunken state. She went out with Celine to hash some shit out over soju, beer, and dried squid and came home a little shy of sloshed.
She suffered from that slight alcohol allergy too, so she was red faced and stripping as soon as she stepped foot off the elevator much to Zoemira’s amusement. Mira collected her shoes that she’d discarded and returned them to the proper place while Zoey picked up the trail of clothes that led to her room where they later found her face down on top of the covers, three blinks away from a drunken sleep she couldn’t be roused from.
Zoemira grabbed an arm each and hauled her out of the bed’s sleep inducing grasp, Rumi whining all the while, “I don’t wanna! Let me sleep 😩” which was promptly ignored. They dragged her unwilling body into the bathroom to strip her of the rest of her scant clothing and settle her into a bubble bath that Mira had run… when? Anyway.
Rumi pouted up at them both while Zoey wrangled her braid into a perilous messy bun, wrapping it in a towel for safe keeping and Mira got to work scrubbing her down with a fresh towel from the cupboard. Rumi groaned but acquiesced to the care she had become overly familiar with since the last year or two.
Zoey, who had scampered off at some point, returned with a couple of aspirin and glass of water with a ridiculous imported American swirly straw that she proffered to a still sulky Rumi. She accepted it, with a side eye. Grumbling about how she could’ve been asleep already but no instead she was being spoiled and pampered (AN: and pretending to be aggrieved).
By the time the water was swirling down the drain, Rumi’s body was quickly hosed down with the shower head and wrapped in a fluffy towel, Zoey (who had left, again) returned with her silky pajamas that matched the ones Zoemira were already wearing.
Far from sober, despite all the TLC, Rumi’s bottom lip wobbled, eyes wetting, “you know you don’t have to take care of me this much, you know?”
Zoemira share a look but only Zoey responds, “I’d drink your bath water if you’d let me,” causing Rumi to choke, drunken tears averted and Mira to laugh so hard, she snorts and has to remove her glasses to mop up the tears that streamed down her face.
Zoey sulked, crossing her arms, “I get one girlfriend to stop crying just to set the other one off…”
By the time Mira had collected herself, Zoey had already finished removing the very little makeup Rumi had been wearing and washed her face. All that was left was to brush her teeth and she would be all ready to go to bed. Mira grimaced and tried to sneak out while Zoey was still preoccupied but she was caught out by her reflection.
“If you leave me alone with Rumi for teeth brushing I’m withholding snuggles for ALL of tomorrow! No backpack for you!”
Mira still considered leaving and just accepting the punishment but the further furrowing of Zoey’s brow made her heave a sigh and submit to the upcoming song and dance.
When Rumi wasn’t drunk, she could easily complete her own dental routine but this Rumi, even with almost an hour of time since she imbibed something to counter act all the alcohol, her faculties weren’t steady enough to do it all herself. It’s not the Zoemira were unwilling to take care of her in this way either. It’s just that Rumi made it damn difficult for them to complete the task because it was the one thing she did to take care of herself (AN: there were many other things she did for herself but I digress) and had the most ridiculous (to Zoemira) hang ups about it.
“Rumi, we’ve got to floss your teeth before you brush,” Zoey interjected.
Rumi who had fumbled her way to the toothpaste and was inspecting it with a serious countenance, trying to figure out how to open it, paused. Mira rolled her eyes upward, here they go.
“This is MY task, I’ll floss my own damn teeth,” and the pout was back with a LOT more edge.
Zoey began to protest but Mira held out a hand. She decided to stay for this mess, dammit.
“Rumi, sweetheart. Love of my life. You have a cavity in one of your fangs and you have FANGS. Is it really the best idea to stick your uncoordinated fingers in there right now?”
“Uncoordinated fingers. Hmph. You didn’t have any issues with these uncoordinated fingers when I-”, Zoey clamped a hand over her mouth and devised a different tactic. Widening her eyes and letting them fill just enough to glisten. “You’re being mean to us.”
Rumi removes Zoey’s hand in a panic, “baby I d-”
“We know,” Mira pipes up from behind her, settling a hand on her back. “We’ll just floss, okay? You can brush your own damn teeth, alright?”
Properly chastened, Rumi sighed. “Let’s assume the position.”
The position in question? Mira setting down on the ground, her back against the tub with Rumi planted firmly in between her legs and only slightly restrained by Mira’s arm snug around her middle while Rumi had a lap full of Zoey wielding the great and terrible dental floss (AN: Dw, she washed her hands beforehand).
They hadn’t had time to go to the dentist in a bit and Rumi who hated the dentist and usually had to be mildly sedated to go wasn’t really raring to go but with worsening of the cavity (curse all those sweet, sweet boba teas, coffee cake, etc) Zoemira were likely to force her hand eventually.
For now, Rumi squirmed while Zoey and Mira took turns commenting about her dental health.
“You know if you flossed more often…”
“At least your gums aren’t bleeding.”
Rumi went to make a mocking face but got a pointer finger dug into her forehead for her trouble, “You still want to be mean to us?”
Rumi resigned herself to suffer in silence.
It was a long 2 and half minutes. And the prep to get it done and over with was easily quadruple that but it was done. Thank the Honmoon. Now brat Rumi could fade into the distance and the sweet begrudging angel could return.
Just as Mira had promised, Rumi got to brush her own damn teeth and Zoemira didn’t make a peep about how she didn’t brush her gum line as much as she should’ve or turn on the electric function to her tooth brush to massage her gums either. It was already late and they really didn’t have the energy to fight anymore battles. Even if Rumi’s cursor brush took longer than it should’ve but was somehow still not all that effective.
Mira went to refill Rumi’s empty glass of water and Zoey led the now flagging Rumi back to her room, turning down the covers and depositing her into bed.
To reward Mira’s efforts and because Rumi needed to be next to the night stand to most easily access the glass Mira left there, Mira got to be in the middle with her tiny but fierce backpack. And Rumi finally got to sleep, almost two hours after she would’ve preferred.
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