But Rumi with angst? Yk what hell yeahh
Tired!Rumi x Tired of Rumi’s bs!Reader
She’s been on Huntr/x World Tour for half of the year, finally, after their last concert they decide to take a hiatus.
Except—well, you know who.
You have been living with them for almost a year, you were. One of Zoey’s friends in America and decided to move to Korea, but it was hard to find a place to stay. So now, you live with them, with an incredible view of the city of Seoul from the windows.
Rumi is the leader, she very much acts like it too. Mira and Zoey always pointed out how she just can’t seem to relax for more than five minutes, Rumi was always doing something either in the house or just running errands. She worked until someone forced her to actually go to bed.
She didn’t complain, ever. It made you think if Rumi thought that’s how she could get people to like her, acts of service and acting like nothing is wrong. Like it’s not taking a toll on her, like she been doing this since the day she was born.
You see the way Mira and Zoey glance at each other when Rumi randomly cleans the house or insists on going to meetings with their manager, Bobby, even though it was unnecessary. You notice, you all do.
You weren’t super close with Rumi, definitely more than roommates but she didnt seem to know you well because she was never giving herself a break.
Or is it such a habit she doesn’t realize it’s abnormal?
Zoey and Mira already asleep by the time Rumi comes home, midnight, almost one. You groggily get out of bed when you smell the scent of food, knowing it was her.
It’s scary how she never acts tired, she’s..cheerful, even.
You just lean against the doorway, almost slipping on your pajamas. You yawn, she turns her head to see you. She smiles softly, her long purple hair still in her unique messy braid, she looks at your figure before turning back to the lazy ramen she was boiling.
“I promise, this will actually be the last time.”
She said that last time, and the other last time, and the time before that.
This was the fourth time this week, she only skipped a day because Mira forced her home before it was too late like tonight.
You sigh, almost grumbling before walking over to the stove and leaning against the counter next to Rumi and the stove. She barely turns her head to look at you again. She oblivious that everyone is starting to get annoyed of this, maybe sometimes she realizes she may have overdone a day or two.
You tilt your head slightly to look at her side profile and the noodles still boiling as she stirred. Studying her without saying anything made her look at you again, side eyeing you.
Her voice is soft and gentle, almost like a whisper, she tilts her head a little more so she can fully see your face, she has no idea why you're staring at her. Or does she? Is there something on her face? She mentally checks what she had eaten earlier, hoping there wasn't any sauce or anything on her lips or teeth.
You don't say anything, she waits patiently, wondering if you're okay. Maybe you're sleep talking, she shrugs, continuing to stir the noodles gently, she watches the bubbles slowly rise to the top before popping.
She asks, gesturing towards the pot of ramen. Her voice is still soft and gentle, she turns her head to look at you properly now, waiting for your answer.
You look at her for a second before smiling almost bitterly, scoffing and looking forward towards the fridge. You shake your head, body arching a bit off the counter as you lazily stretch. Your head tilts enough to look at her again.
She counted two minutes of silence before you speak again, in those two minutes you spent the whole time studying her, unapologetically looking even if she looked back. She was horrible at keeping eye contact, at least with you.
For once,you sounded serious, not sleepy or upset, just..worried and sincere.
Your question makes her stiffen up, she didn't expect that question from you especially because you didn't seem interested in speaking. She quickly shakes her head as she laughs awkwardly.
"Yeah! Yeah, I'm alright."
She says, sounding convincing even though you can tell that there's clearly something wrong. She turns back to the stove, focusing on the ramen. She stirs it gently, watching the bubbles rise to the top before popping.
She says, her voice softer now, she glances at you quickly before looking back at the stove. She hopes you believe her, she doesn't want anyone to worry about her. Especially not you.
You actually turn your body toward her, she noticed and took the noodles off the stove to drain some of the water while mumbling more that’s she fine, and why wouldn’t she be?
You don’t say anything, now, you’ve come to realize she dislikes silence, always seeing her blasting music or some TV show when she’s actually home or cleaning.
It’s never quiet for more than three minutes.
When she finally sets up her ramen bowl, she looks nervous to eat..in front of you. She leans against one of the counter that is slightly across from you, bowl in one hand and chopsticks in the other but she doesn’t look up.
“You keep repeating yourself, y’know? Is it to convince me or yourself?”
No one talks to her the way you do, it makes her head spin.
Your arms still loosely crossed, pushing yourself off the counter, taking small steps towards her.
You step closer to her, she tenses up, feeling your presence near her. She takes a deep breath, trying to calm herself down. She doesn't want you to see her like this, vulnerable and weak. She forces a smile on her face, looking up at you.
"I'm fine, really. I promise."
She says, her voice is shaky, she tries to sound confident but fails miserably. She takes a bite of her ramen, chewing slowly. She swallows before looking back at you, her eyes wide and innocent.
"Why would you ask me that? Do I seem like I'm not okay?"
She asks, her voice is higher now, she sounds defensive. She doesn't want you to think that she's not okay, she wants you to think that she's strong and capable.
“No, you seem perfectly fine..”
“Nobody can be that fine all the time, there’s no balance. It’s okay to not be okay, Rumi.”
You lean in just a bit closer to gently grab her braid from the back and pull it to the front, feeling her hair. Soft fingers finding the end to start unbraiding. Focusing on it with your gaze, it made Rumi actually look at you for more than a minute.
“Just..please. Please don’t push yourself too hard.”
Your words rang through the empty kitchen, she actually paused her slurping which made the noodles drop into the bowl. Yet, she still averted her gaze. Her head gently shaking, to warn you: ‘I’m going to dismiss you in the most polite way because i respect you.’
“Look, I know I overwork myself..sometimes but I’m just used to this. So, it doesn’t tire me out, I don’t get tired out easily.”
She tilts her head slightly to let you continue unbraiding her long, weighted hair. This time, she let the silence crowd the kitchen, hush the conversation for a little. Just for a little.
You let her be in control of the silence.
Plus, it wasn’t completely silent due to the slurping of her noodles and the soft sound of her hair sighing of relief from finally being untangled, being more able to breathe than Rumi herself.
She attempts to change the subject.
“Hey, so there’s this new shop and i wanted to know—“
She couldn’t see your face but she knew too well. she huffs, putting her bowl down to fully leans her head back so you could untangle the top.
“No, I’m being serious, Zoey bought that one stuffed turtle there—the one that looks like it’s on one.”
She laughs, not obnoxious, but there wasn’t any ounce of exhaustion in the delightful sound. By now, you’re finished with undressing her braid and being met with her long lavender waves. You rarely see this side of her, her being just slightly more relaxed than usual. Even if she tries to reassure herself and plays it off as reassuring you.
You say softer, but she still won’t face you. Her chuckle slowly fading, but shes still giddy, or at least tying to be.
But she doesn’t respond or even dismiss you. She’s patient, more patient at this time of night.
She actually stiffens, like the way characters in cartoons do when they realize they are in the air.
She huffs as a laugh, she hopes you’re joking.
“Don’t force yourself to laugh. Just..cry instead.”
Rumi doesn’t face you, but she’s not completely frozen because her fingers always tap rhythmically when she’s nervous. Or just, sad, exhausted. All of the above?
You tried to comfort her, putting a hand on her shoulder but it didn’t last long. She walks out of the kitchen murmuring a goodnight.
A door upstairs slam shut, softly, but you still painfully hear.
That’s just who she is, she can’t let anyone in.
Her bottle of emotions never spills, never stains anyone, yet never expires. It’s just there..waiting to explode when it fills. But it never will, no one would know about it anyway.
You almost got under her skin.
The first layer, at least.
Okay first post is angst and thats okayyy
The Mr. Plankton reference hello?? 🤭🤭
