➽─────❥

Mira bumps her knee against Zoey’s, turning to frown at her. “Hey. You okay?” she asks quietly, so that the other students sitting in the lecture hall won’t hear her. 

Zoey gives her a smile, but it doesn’t reach her eyes like it usually does. “I’m fine,” Zoey whispers back, shooting Mira a double thumbs-up. 

Mira scowls down at her notes, her chest tightening with worry. 

Zoey doesn’t seem fine, is the thing. Sure, she’s taking notes as diligently as usual in her turtle-covered notebook, listening attentively to their professor drone on about mitochondria. But over the three months that they’ve been in Bio 100 together, Mira has gotten to know Zoey as a study partner and now a close friend, and she can tell when Zoey’s off. She’s paler than usual and drooping in her seat, propping her head up with one hand. Her eyes keep fluttering shut every now and then, almost as if she has to force herself to stay awake. 

It’s a stressful time of year, what with finals just around the corner and winter in full force, but Mira can’t help feeling protective over Zoey. That might be partially due to the fact that she definitely has more-than-platonic feelings for the other girl, but she doesn’t feel like examining that right now. Right now, she just wants to make sure Zoey is okay. 

 When class ends, Mira packs up her bag, then helps Zoey with her things, since she’s moving slowly. 

“Where are you headed? I’ll walk you,” Mira offers as they make their way out of the lecture hall. 

Zoey sneezes – a tiny, squeaky thing – and Mira feels her heart constrict with fondness and concern in equal measure. 

“I think I’ll just go to the library,” Zoey mumbles, rubbing her nose. “I think I’m getting a cold and my roommates are germaphobes.” 

Mira stops in her tracks, staring incredulously at her. “So they just expect you to camp out in the library all day while you feel miserable?” 

Zoey shifts on her feet, hiking up her shoulder bag. “I don’t mind…” she says, trailing off uncertainly. Mira takes a long look at her tired eyes and the pallor under her skin and makes a snap decision. 

“C’mon,” she says, slinging an arm around Zoey’s shoulders and pulling her close. “You’re coming to my room.” 

Zoey hesitates, peering up at her. “Won’t Rumi mind? I’m all gross right now.” 

“You’re not gross,” Mira says patiently, gently steering Zoey in the direction of her dorm. “And you know Rumi loves you as much as I do. Plus she’s really good at taking care of sick people. She brought me like, twenty different kinds of soup last time I was sick.” 

Zoey giggles, which turns into a cough. Mira holds her even closer, tucked warmly under her arm. Mira wasn’t lying, her roommate Rumi has adored Zoey since the first time they met, so she knows bringing Zoey over for a little TLC won’t be a problem – in fact, Rumi will probably jump at the chance to dote on her. 

Thankfully, Mira’s dorm isn’t far from the lecture hall, so they make it over in a just a few minutes. But Mira can feel Zoey shaking against her with tiny shivers that she’s clearly trying to suppress, and she wants to get her warmed up pronto. 

“Zoey!” Rumi exclaims cheerfully once Mira unlocks the door and ushers Zoey inside. Rumi jumps up from her desk and comes over to greet them, but her smile drops off her face as soon as she gets a good look at Zoey.

“What’s wrong?” Rumi frowns, obviously noticing the way that Zoey has all but melted into Mira’s side, leaning against her pale and listless. 

“She’s not feeling well and her roommates are assholes,” Mira says succinctly, gently pushing Zoey to sit down on her bed and immediately wrapping her up in her softest blanket. 

“Oh, poor thing,” Rumi coos, without a hint of teasing. Her eyes go wide and she sits down next to Zoey, pressing the back of her hand to her forehead. “Aw, Zo-zo. You’re really warm, I think you have a fever.” 

“I’m okay,” Zoey mumbles, blushing slightly. Rumi just kisses her hair and tucks the blanket tighter around her shoulders. 

“No you aren’t, but we’re going to take care of you,” Rumi murmurs, tucking a strand of dark hair behind Zoey’s ear. Mira feels a stab of something in her gut – not jealousy, exactly, but maybe something more like longing. Her feelings for both Zoey and Rumi are far from simple. 

“Mira, can you order some chicken noodle soup for delivery?” Rumi asks, already getting up to rifle through her sizable medication stash. “She likes that one from the deli on second street, right Zo?” 

Zoey nods, looking a little flustered by all the attention, then suddenly sneezes again. 

“Aw, bless you baby,” Mira says, her voice going usually soft and the nickname slipping out before she can think better of it. She joins Zoey on the bed, handing her a box of tissues. She starts rubbing her back with one hand and scrolling through her phone on the other, looking for the right deli to order from. 

“Sorry I’m being all…germy, in your room,” Zoey says, peering up at them over her tissues. “I really can go if you guys don’t want to get sick. In fact, I probably should go, honestly, I’ll be fine –” 

She starts to rise, but Mira gently pulls her back down. “Nuh-uh. You’re staying here, Zo. It’s fine, I promise,” Mira says, squeezing her shoulder. 

“Yeah, we want you here, sweetheart,” Rumi says, giving her a small smile. “Now do you want strawberry or grape for the medicine?” 

Zoey makes a face. “Uhh…neither?” 

“You have a fever,” Rumi says, in a tone that Mira immediately recognizes as the one that means she’s not changing her mind anytime soon. “Fever means meds. Grape or strawberry?” 

Zoey pouts. “Grape, I guess.” 

Rumi smiles at her, then pours out the medicine into a small cup. Zoey takes the cup reluctantly but swallows down the medication anyway. Mira kisses her temple, and Rumi squeezes her hand. 

“You guys are too sweet to me,” Zoey says, looking between them both, her cheeks slightly pink. 

“Nah. We’re just as sweet as you deserve,” Mira says, rubbing her back. 

“Yep. Let us fuss a little, you’re sick,” Rumi grins. She fluffs up the pillow on Mira’s bed, then pats it invitingly. “Why don’t you lay down and rest a bit while we wait for the soup?” 

Zoey glances at Mira. “You’re sure you don’t mind?” 

“A hundred thousand percent sure,” Mira nods. “C’mon Zo, when do I ever sugar-coat things?” 

Zoey snorts a little. “Never.” 

“Exactly,” Mira smirks. She lays down, then holds out an arm. Zoey obligingly curls up against her side, nestling into her. Rumi somehow manages to squeeze onto the tiny bed as well, laying down on Zoey’s other side. 

Mira closes her eyes. For her whole life, she’s never quite felt like she fit in anywhere. But somehow, with these two women, she’s suddenly found a home. 

“Zoey?” Mira’s voice is a low, stuffy rasp that Zoey can barely hear, even with Mira’s head tucked into the crook of her neck. 

“Yeah, jagi?” Zoey soothes, leaning down slightly and pressing a kiss to the top of Mira’s hair. She readjusts the arm that she has wrapped around the taller girl’s shoulders. Her arm’s definitely going numb, but she won’t even think of moving, not with how Mira’s been clinging to her all day. 

“When I die, delete my browser history,” Mira mumbles, burrowing further into Zoey’s sweatshirt with a pitiful cough. 

“You’re not dying,” Zoey says patiently, holding back a small smile. “You have a cold and you’re gonna be fine.” 

Mira only moans in response, sniffling with what seems like dramatic effort. Zoey starts rubbing her back with one hand, reaching for the tissue box with the other. 

Rumi enters the bedroom holding a tea tray, a sympathetic pout on her face. “How’s the patient?” 

“I’m dying,” Mira laments, squinting one eye open and quickly shutting it again. She coughs, then groans. “I’ve never felt more horrible in my entire life.” 

Rumi’s expression is a mixture between amusement and concern. She sets the tray down on the nightstand, then sits down on the side of the bed. Mira’s splayed out on the bed like a giant starfish with her head nestled on Zoey’s chest. 

“That bad, huh?” Rumi murmurs, leaning down and pressing a kiss to Mira’s forehead. She hums quietly, pulling back and pressing the back of her hand to her flushed cheek. “Might be time for some more fever meds, Riri.” 

“Where’s that ointment I bought?” Zoey asks, peering over at the nightstand, which is cluttered with medicine and crumpled tissues. “It’s supposed to help the congestion – she’s coughing more.” 

Mira groans again, lifting her head to squint at Zoey through red-rimmed, watery eyes. “Zo, I love you, but for the love of God – please do not make me try that stuff again. It smells like rotten eggs.” 

“It’s herbal,” Zoey pouts, looking to Rumi for support. 

Rumi laughs softly, shaking her head. “I think we better stick to the Tylenol, babe.” She pours out a dose of cherry-red syrup into a plastic medicine cup. “Bottoms up, sickie,” she says, handing the cup out to Mira. 

Mira coughs again, low and harsh, and both Zoey and Rumi wince in sympathy. She stares warily at the medicine Rumi’s holding out as if it might be poison. “Is that the right one? I don’t like the –” 

“Strawberry flavor, yes, I know,” Rumi says patiently with a small smile. “How many sick days have I gotten you through? It’s cherry, I promise. Drink it please, babe?” 

Mira grumbles some more but she does swallow the syrup, making a face afterward. 

“Good job!” Zoey cheers, giving her a kiss on one cheek while Rumi kisses the other. 

Mira’s fever-flushed cheeks go a shade darker. “Okay, you guys don’t have to be all…y’know.” 

“Of course we do, you’re dying remember?” Rumi grins, laying down in bed and wrapping her arms around Mira so that she’s cuddled warmly between her and Zoey. “It’s only fair.” She kisses the tip of Mira’s pink nose, pulling her close. “You get cuddled and doted on when you’re sick, that’s the rule.” 

“Yep, and all the kisses,” Zoey chirps, pecking Mira’s warm forehead several times. “Our poor girlfriend is sick and we have to kiss her better.” 

“Exactly,” Rumi nods, running her hand in long, soothing strokes down Mira’s arm. “And all you have to do is rest and let us take care of you.” 

Mira sighs, coughs a little, then relaxes into both their arms. “I love you,” she mumbles, her eyes closing heavily. 

“We love you too,” Zoey and Rumi say simultaneously. 

“Sleep now, Riri,” Rumi encourages, kissing her temple tenderly. 

And so Mira does. 

Usually, Zoey loves being in bed. It’s her favorite thing to sink into her ultra-soft memory foam mattress after a busy day of classes and curl up with her girlfriends in a cuddle pile. She’s worked hard to make her dorm room super cozy, with the turtle-shaped string lights hanging on the walls bathing the room in a warm glow, and her bed a throne for her extensive Squishmallow collection. She can happily spend hours here studying, or listening to Mira rant about her professors, or quizzing Rumi with her flashcards. It’s her safe space. 

But tonight it feels empty and lonely. She knows it’s for the best, of course. She woke up this morning with a miserable cold and spent the day quarantining herself in her room, not wanting to spread germs in her classes. 

But it also meant that she didn’t get to get breakfast in the dining hall with her girlfriends like usual, or to bring Rumi coffee after her lab, or to curl up with them for evening cuddles. And with a blocked nose, a pounding head, and a throat that feels like it’s on fire, Zoey is definitely not feeling her best. She would love to be wrapped in Mira’s or Rumi’s arms – or both. But she would feel terrible if she infected her girlfriends with whatever misery she’s been cursed with, so she knows she’ll just have to wait it out alone. 

Zoey hugs her cow-shaped Squishmallow to her chest, muffling a cough into the soft plush. This is the worst. She hopes she can just fall asleep soon and wake up feeling better. 

She’s just drifting to the edge of sleep when there’s a quiet knock on her dorm room door. She startles awake, pushing herself up on an elbow and squinting through the dim light. She has no idea who’s at the door, but the knock comes again, so she groans and sluggishly stumbles out of bed. Her hair is probably a tangled mess and she’s wearing her old turtle pajamas that she’s had for years, but she’s too exhausted to care. She just wants the noise to stop and to go back to sleep. 

“Whatissit?” Zoey mumbles, cracking the door open and rubbing sleepily at her eyes. Then her eyes widen once she clears her vision and realizes who’s waiting in the hall. 

“Aww, jagi,” Rumi pouts sympathetically, already pulling Zoey into a hug. “You look so sick.” 

“I – what?” Zoey blinks several times to make sure she’s not having a fever dream. “What are you guys doing here?” 

“Uh, we’re your girlfriends?” Mira says, smiling a little. She wraps an arm around Zoey’s shoulders and steps in the room to guide her back to bed. “Ru’s right, you sound like shit. Let’s get you back in bed.” 

While Mira helps Zoey get settled in bed, Rumi unpacks a giant tote bag onto her desk. It looks like she bought half of the campus pharmacy, laying out an array of medicines, tissue boxes, and juice options. 

“I already ordered baesuk and ginseng soup,” Rumi announces, glancing at her phone. “It’ll be delivered in ten minutes. Do you want the regular medicine or the one with cough syrup in it, Zo-Zo?” 

Zoey’s head is spinning, and she’s still struggling to catch up to the sequence of events. Her eyes bounce between Mira, who’s sitting on the bed next to her, stroking her hair, and Rumi, who is rearranging her extensive stockpile of medicines and supplies. 

“Why are you guys here?” Zoey asks again, coughing when her voice catches thickly. “I’m sick.” 

“Yeah, that’s kinda the point, baby,” Mira smiles, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “We’re here to take care of you. You didn’t think we were gonna leave you all miserable and alone, did you?” 

“I mean…kind of?” Zoey admits, blushing a little. She hugs her stuffed cow to her chest. “I’m all gross and germy.” 

“Aegiya.” Rumi’s voice is soft and her eyes even softer. She sits down on the bed, a dosing cup filled with purple syrup in her hand. She offers it to Zoey and leans down to kiss her forehead. “Of course we’re gonna take care of you when you’re sick. We’re your girlfriends and we love you.” 

“Yep, mandatory girlfriend duty,” Mira chimes in with a smirk. “We gotta pamper you and tell you how adorable you are.” 

“And make sure you take your medicine.” Rumi glances pointedly at the plastic cup still held in Zoey’s hand. “It’s the drowsy kind, babe. That way you can get some sleep.” 

Zoey drinks the syrup, then chases it with some orange juice Rumi hands her. “Thank you,” she murmurs, reaching for both her girlfriend’s hands. “You guys are really sweet.” 

“Not as sweet as you.” Mira lays down, pulling Zoey into her arms in one smooth motion. Zoey immediately relaxes, resting her head against Mira’s shoulder and tucking her face into her neck. 

“Shit, you are burning up, Zo,” Mira mutters, pressing a kiss to the crown of Zoey’s hair. Rumi frowns, reaching out to gently trail her fingers over Zoey’s cheek. 

“The meds should help.” Rumi laces her fingers between Zoey’s and rubs her thumb soothingly over her knuckles. “I brought some cold packs too.” 

“You don’t need to do all that,” Zoey mumbles sleepily, tucked warmly into Mira’s side. “Jus’wanna cuddle.” 

“We can definitely do cuddles,” Rumi smiles, laying down on Zoey’s other side. She snuggles up against her side, throwing a leg over hers and pressing her lips to her cheek. “But you’re still gonna have some soup when it comes, ‘kay?” 

Mira nods. “And no classes, baby. Not until you’re better.” 

“Okay,” Zoey agrees easily. She feels safe and warm, held between the two people she loves most. 

“We love you.” Rumi kisses Zoey’s warm temple. “You never have to be sick alone, jagi.” 

“Yeah, no more holing yourself away,” Mira says, brushing her nose over Zoey’s hair. “Next time you don’t feel good, you tell us right away.” 

“I love you both so much.” Zoey smiles happily, nestling in close to both her girlfriends. 

➽─────❥

The door to the coffee shop feels heavier than usual as Rumi struggles to push it open. It probably has something to do with the fact that her arms feel like jello and she’s shivering under three layers of cardigans, but she won’t let it stop her. She comes by this shop every weekday morning for her coffee and she’s not going to stop now. 

Her regular schedule might have more to do with her hopeless crush on two of the barastias rather than her dedication to caffeine, but that’s neither here nor there. 

“Rumi-ya!” Zoey chirps as soon as Rumi enters the tiny, cozy cafe, her face breaking into one of her usual stunning grins. Something flips over in Rumi’s stomach. “Mira’s already started the dark roast for you!” 

“Thank you,” Rumi tries to smile back, but her voice catches on a cough. She turns away to cough into her elbow, wincing at the rough sound of it. 

When she turns back to the counter, Mira and Zoey have matching looks of concern on their faces. 

“You sound like shit,” Mira says, raising an eyebrow. Zoey elbows her in the side and Mira gives a yelp. “What? She does.” She gestures vaguely in Rumi’s direction. 

“Aww, are you sick?” Zoey asks, her tone much more sympathetic than Mira’s. She pouts at her, brown eyes wide and caring. 

Rumi feels her cheeks grow hot, and she shifts on her feet. “I’m okay,” she tries to assure, even though her croaky voice certainly isn’t helping her case. 

“Sure you are,” Mira says, deadpan. Before Rumi really knows what’s happening, Mira has rounded the counter and is guiding her toward one of the shop’s squishy armchairs with a hand on her back. 

“I’ll be fine – it’s just a cold –” Rumi protests, as Mira gently pushes her to sit down. 

Zoey comes over, a steaming mug in her hands. “Chamomille with extra honey,” she announces, carefully settling the drink on the table in front of Rumi. “It’ll be good for your throat.” 

Rumi swallows thickly, looking between the two women at her side, feeling unusually exposed. “Why…” she trails off, clears her throat. “Why are you guys being so, um…nice?” 

Mira snorts, and Zoey grins. “Rumi, did you really think I give every customer a free pastry on a daily basis?” Zoey asks, giggling a little. She pulls up a chair and sits down at Rumi’s side, and Mira sits on the other side. 

“Or that I memorize everyone’s coffee order and draw little hearts in the foam?” Mira adds, her lips curving in a small smile as she looks at Rumi. 

“I mean…kind of?” Rumi admits, looking between them, blushing.  

“I told you we needed to be more obvious, Zo,” Mira says, smirking at Zoey. “She’s clueless.” 

“Rumi, I literally wrote my number on a muffin wrapper last week! It said ‘call me xoxoxo’!” Zoey exclaims, but her voice is fond, not teasing. 

Rumi ducks her head, shrugging. She really hadn’t thought much of it. The idea that Mira and Zoey could also harbor feelings for her had literally not even crossed her mind. 

Mira cups her chin with a warm hand, tilting her face back up. “Well, we’ll just have to show you how much you mean to us,” Mira says, smiling softly at her, brown eyes sparkling. 

“First up, tea,” Zoey adds, pushing the mug closer to Rumi. “Let us take care of you, Ru.” 

Rumi still feels like she’s struggling to catch up to the turn of events, but she picks up the tea anyway and takes a sip. It’s sweet and feels heavenly on her sore throat. 

“Thank you,” Rumi says quietly. Mira and Zoey smile at her, and Rumi’s heart thuds. 

She supposes that her feelings weren’t quite as unrequited as she thought, after all.