#polytix

Rumi sighed in relief at the sight of the restaurant. It was small, private, and unassuming. The lights were dim, and the booths muffled most of the noise from adjacent tables. 

Even Zoey, who was more hyperactive than the rest of them, seemed at ease among the subtle music and low-energy dining. 

“Reservation for Bobby,” Mira said to the hostess, who checked her tablet and beckoned for them to follow. 

Their trip to the States thus far had been exciting. Zoey kept a strict itinerary, which meant they were seeing as much as possible in their short time. It often meant that their food was eaten on the go, not that they minded, or at odd hours of the day.

So it was nice when Mira suggested going for a proper dinner at a proper time. Zoey had lit up at the suggestion and chosen a place she swore by. 

In the booth, they felt comfortable enough to shed some layers, revealing small aspects of their identity with every forgone hood and sweater. 

It was like being at home, if home utilized a little more comfort lighting. 

“Babe,” Mira said, “any suggestions?” 

Zoey shook her head, “You just have to choose something and try it. Trust me.” 

“We trust you,” Rumi assured her, “we just don't know what some of this is…” 

Zoey grinned, tilting her menu up playfully to hide her expression. Mira pretended to be exasperated, but the small smile tugging at the edge of her lip suggested otherwise. 

A waitress walked over, greeting them with a subtle pause, before continuing after a cleared throat. 

“Can I start you off with any drinks?” She asked, her eyes directed at Mira. 

“I think we'll split a bottle of wine,” Rumi told her, “whichever one you think is the best.”

“Certainly,” the waitress replied, before disappearing in the direction of the bar. 

“Wine?” Mira asked with a raised eyebrow.

“What?” Rumi responded defensively, “It's been ages since we were wine drunk.” 

“Mhmm,” Mira hummed, “I'm not judging, just… considering.”

“What?” 

“You get handsy on wine,” Zoey explained, skipping the coy song and dance.

“Wha– I… no I- I do not.” Rumi protested. 

“To be clear,” Mira prefaced, “we aren't complaining.”

“Just excited,” Zoey chimed with a blush. Rumi felt her face go red hot. 

“Funny,” she remarked after a moment, ending the banter in a halting silence. 

They still hadn't quite figured out how to be… themselves in public, or at least overseas. 

Rumours surrounding their extended relationship with each other had been circulating for years. It was ironic when they came to fruition, and they had spent many nights looking at phone screens and pointing out the most obtuse of the remarks with a laugh. 

Despite this, though, many people insisted on other endings for each of them. 

Heterosexual, monogamous endings. 

“I don't want this to be awkward,” Rumi blurted, earning their attention back, “we have the benefit of anonymity here, something we never have in Seoul.”

“It's not awkward, Rumi,” Mira assured her.

“No, I…” she struggled to find the words. Communication was something they all agreed to, especially her. 

Trust that they will be on your side  

“This is a date,” she clarified after a moment, “we should treat it like one.” 

Mira and Zoey exchanged looks, their eyes holding each other in suspension. 

Rumi waited anxiously, tapping her foot against the table below. 

“Yes,” Zoey exclaimed. “Please, someone share the spaghetti with me so we can recreate Lady and the Tramp.” 

“Oh,” Mira responded in confusion, "that's, uh,”

“It's a movie about dogs,” Zoey explained, “we will culture you later.” 

“Is it long?” Mira asked, “Because I kind of had other ideas for the night.” Rumi's disappointment at the notion was quickly dismissed as Mira looked her up and down.

“Mira…” she groaned, squishing her face with her hands to hide her blush. 

“You said it was a date!” Mira defended, going stark silent at the arrival of the waitress. 

“A chardonnay,” she said, clearing her throat. They watched as she poured them each a glass, sliding it across the wooden table with elegance. When that was poured, Zoey went ahead and ordered. 

Mira and Rumi landed on their dishes, but admittedly, Rumi stuck to something small.

Zoey's spaghetti did sound good. 

When she disappeared again, Mira pulled out her phone, holding out her arm and inviting them into the picture. Rumi slid over, leaning her head on her girlfriend’s shoulder as she grinned into the camera. Zoey's toothy smile lit up the photo as Mira took it, her more subtle grin a relaxing beacon. 

When Mira put her phone down, she met Rumi's eyes. 

Zoey and Mira both had a tell. It had taken Rumi a while to learn them, perhaps even an embarrassing amount of time, but now that she was aware, she never missed it. 

Mira always made intense eye contact, often with a furrowed brow. But what really sold it was the tongue poking into her cheek. As though she was so excited she could hardly contain it. 

Zoey was a little more overt with a tongue bite. Often, it was in her mouth, and to a stranger it would be undetectable. But Rumi had spent many hours studying her face, so she knew when her raven-haired girlfriend's jaw was offset to compensate for the girth of her tongue. 

So when Mira's tongue-in-cheek and Zoey's tongue-in-teeth presented themselves, she took the invitation, giving each of them a quick peck on the lips.

Rumi took pride in the small blushes that painted their cheeks, even if they were accompanied by a sly comment. 

“The wine is already working,” Mira teased, taking a generous sip of her own. 

“I have to say Zoey,” Rumi said, taking in the quiet vibe of the restaurant, “it's not that bad here. I'm a little concerned that the government is run by a demon, and I'm going to have to up the cardio routine to compensate for all the sodium in the food but…” she paused, “it's nice. Quiet. For the first time in a while, I can hear myself think.” 

“Both are easily remedied,” Mira chirped, waiting a moment for them to chuckle. 

“I'm happy you're happy,” Zoey smiled, “I think you'll love what I have planned tomorrow. Being here with you guys is special, and I can't think of anyone else I want to share my spaghetti with.” 

The last few months had been long and exciting. Since salvaging the honmoon they'd been on a tour, checking every city they visited for a wave of gold. Since they're “Golden” tour was thwarted by the Saja boys, they had to introduce their new tracks alongside it. Which meant learning and practicing an additional track and choreography every few weeks. 

It was true that they all felt alive on stage, but now that Rumi wasn't scared for her life, she appreciated couch time a lot more. She understood the allure of growing into the sofa, merging with its cushions. 

It was all the additional downtime and improved communication that had gotten them to see what was there all along.

Friendship, yes, but also a halted attraction rooted in affection. Rumi hadn't trusted them with the worst part of her, yet somehow they had encouraged her to be the best version of herself. 

Before she could say anything more– the wine was making her sentimental– the waitress returned, alongside a helper, with plates of food. The smell was intoxicating, and it didn't take long to turn full meals into scraps. 

“Okay, now you take this,” Zoey directed, holding a flaccid piece of pasta to Mira's lips. 

“In my mouth?” Mira asked, horrified. 

“Yes, and then suck on it,” Zoey mumbled through the noodle hanging off her lips. 

Mira furrowed her brows, but did as she was told. Rumi chuckled belligerently at the sight of them. Their faces zipped forward, surprised expressions contradicting the fact that this had been planned.

But most of all, their faces settled into a smile as their lips joined over the confluence of a broken noodle. 

“A solid attempt,” Zoey acknowledged with reddened cheeks, “it might take some practice.” 

“Any excuse to kiss you more,” Mira told her. 

“I want in on the action,” Rumi inserted, still laughing. She held up another noodle, offering it to either of them. Both offered eagerly so Mira gave in to Zoey. Zoey beamed proudly, taking the noodle in her mouth. Rumi was as careful as she could be, placing it in her mouth and slurping until her mouth met Zoey’s. Unlike their previous kiss, this one was far from quick and far from dry.