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Her shoulders slump, and she looks down.
She doesn't know why she thought Celine would say something different this time; she never has. She's not the type to change her mind; no, she remains faithful to her ideals.
And one of those is that Rumi can't tell the girls what she is, what she hides. No, Celine trained them too well, too hard and too diligently for them not to follow her teachings if they knew.
(Rumi tries not to think about what it means to her that Celine, even though she knows she is half human, has decided to teach the girls that they should kill everything that has patterns, without exception.
(What does it say about her that the woman who raised her didn't even consider that Rumi might be different to other demons, even if she doesn't lose her marks?
Has Rumi been such a bad pupil that if she doesn't get fixed and her secret somehow comes to light, her only destiny is to die at the hands of the same techniques Celine taught her when she was a child?)
But Rumi knows, in her bones, that it won't be like that. The way Zoey and Mira look at her, the way they smile at her and always try to take her hand, hug her, or touch her in some way...that can't be a lie.
The way the three of them always gravitate toward each other, drawn by an inexplicable force, unable to separate, to look away, has to mean something. Maybe if it were just Zoey, who is more outgoing and affectionate by nature, Rumi would be more hesitant, but Mira, quiet and reserved Mira, does that too.
Rumi is afraid, insecure, but she doesn't distrust the girls. The Honmoon brought them together, guided them toward each other, something so ancient, so sacred, wouldn't have been wrong.
She just doesn't understand why Celine doesn't think the same. Why she doesn't see it.
(She knows that sometimes when Celine looks at her, it's not her she sees, but the woman who broke the rules and lost her life for it, tearing the group apart.
Perhaps that's what makes her think Mira and Zoey would follow her teachings, because if Rumi weren't her mother's daughter, she would be dead long ago.
Only a promise was what kept her alive. Otherwise, Celine would have followed her teachings.
But Mira and Zoey weren't Celine.)
Zoey, with her kind heart, would never hurt her, she couldn't, not knowingly. The mere thought of sometimes being a burden to Rumi stresses her out, how could she ever raise her weapon against her?
And Mira... was so loyal, so protective. More than once, she'd seen her get angry at seeing bad comments about Zoey or her online. Those days, Mira never left their side, pampering them more than usual, as if she needed to reassure them that none of those insults were real.
They would never hurt her, and Rumi is tired of accepting otherwise, of giving in.
"They'll understand." She states again, looking up at Celine, her fists clenched tightly at her sides, her breath hitching.
(On the tip of her tongue, the words 'they're not you' seek to emerge.
Rumi contains them, as she has contained herself all her life.
The mere thought of saying something like that to her mother guardian hurts her, even if she knows it's the truth).
"Rumi." She hates that tone. The tiredness that permeates her voice, the condescension, as if Rumi were a stupid little girl, not a grown woman. "We've talked about this before, until your patterns are gone, you can't tell them anything."
Her claws dig into her skin, piercing it, but Rumi hides them behind her back naturally, because giving Celine more reasons is not something she wants.
"No."
Celine frowned.
(Rumi bravely pretended that the sight didn't fill her with nausea and fear. That her body wasn't begging her to run, and her eyes weren't still searching for hidden weapons.
Before meeting Bobby, she had thought that was normal, now she knows it's not.
And she doesn't know how to feel about the fact that the woman she most resembles a family, a mother, is the one who provokes it.)
"Rumi-"
"No." Rumi looked up, meeting her eyes, and Celine stepped back.
(She wanted to throw up, god.)
"They deserve to know the truth, they deserve to know what I am." Her hands were sweating, her knees felt weak, her lungs lacking oxygen. She didn't feel that way with demons.
This state of nervousness, of total anxiety, was only for Celine.
"They will kill you."
"They won't." A small echo accompanied her words, along with a drag. Her fangs had appeared. " I know."
Celine opened her mouth, her frown deeper than before, and Rumi, like the beast she was, bared her teeth.
Not that any words came out of their mouths, when the door was yanked open, and Zoey and Mira walked in, both sweaty and slightly out of breath, with their weapons raised.
"Rumi, what's going on? Why was the Honmoon calling us?" Zoey gasped, looking back and forth between Celine and her, her weapons gripped firmly in her hands.
(Oh.
Even Honmoon considers Celine a danger to her.
That should be a relief, instead it just brings a pang to her chest.
She will never be loved by Celine, will she?)
"What is going on here?" Mira frowns, lowering her spear, and quickly standing in front of Rumi, shielding her from Celine's view, as if she wanted to protect her from whatever problems she had, and have Celine unload them on her instead.
It's sweet, but extremely painful. She and Zoey have been working on this habit of hers for years, on her way of redirecting anger toward herself instead of others, and they thought they had it when she stopped doing it with Bobby.
It turns out not. That Celine, despite being her mentor and the only adult woman present all these years in her life, Mira still sees her as a danger, not to herself, but to Rumi and Zoey, and that? That makes her irredeemable in her book.
And Zoey, sweet Zoey, who usually never gets angry with anyone, since she doesn't like to show it, seeing how Mira reacts, immediately goes to Rumi's side, and presses herself against her.
She doesn't make her weapons disappear. Nor does she take her eyes off Celine.
Rumi knows how much it must hurt to do this. What it must be like to defy the only adult who saw potential and believed in you, and Zoey, despite not even knowing why, does it.
Because for Zoey, for Mira, Rumi is more important than anything else, and they would do anything in their power to protect her, just as Rumi would do for them.
Rumi can't suppress the sound that comes out of her, she can barely hold back the tears, and she only does it by blinking a lot, because despite everything, she finds it hard to believe her luck. How, despite being a mistake from birth, there are people who love her.
Zoey presses her shoulder against hers, without saying anything, because it is not necessary.
"There's no need to use weapons," Celine says coldly, recovering from the shock of being threatened by her own students. "We were just talking."
She looks at her, as if hoping Rumi will accept, with a fake smile, and continue with the lie, as she always has, as she always does.
Not anymore.
"We were talking about me," She says, with only a slight tremor in her voice. "Celine didn't want me to tell you something about myself."
Celine's eyes widen in surprise, and she opens her mouth, ready to scold her.
"My dad was a demon, my mom was human." Rumi continues immediately, slight tremors running through her body. "I'm- I'm half demon."
Zoey looks away from Celine, frowning, for a slight second, and then sees Rumi's jaw quiver, the way she breathes, and her weapons disappear, hugging her.
"I love you." She murmurs against her ear. "We will always love you."
Tears fall without her being able to delay it any longer.
Zoey is the first person to know the truth, and love her.
(Because, in truth, Rumi doesn't know if her mother or father ever loved her. She'll never know. Celine won't tell her about them.)
"You wanted her to lie to us?" Mira hisses, her teeth clenched together. "You knew, and you trained us to kill all the demons without mercy. Because of you, Rumi could have gotten hurt."
The anger in her voice is one Zoey or Rumi have rarely heard. The kind reserved for her parents, or the most questionable fans.
It doesn't scare them, because Mira would never scare them.
"I did what I had to do and I did it to the best I could."
"Well, you did terribly." Mira opens her mouth, ready to hiss more, but she stops, closes her eyes, and takes a deep breath. She turns slightly towards them, without turning her back on Celine, whom she continues to look at coldly. "Don't talk to Rumi again unless she wants to talk to you."
And just as she does in interviews and galas, she guides them toward the door, her arm around their waists, holding them close to her body, and moves forward.
It's not until they arrive at Zoey and Mira's shared room that the three of them collapse in a heap on the bed, wrapped around each other, not knowing where one begins or the other ends.
It's not a safe place—no place burdened by fear, insecurity, and guilt is—but it's all they have, and they allow themselves to melt and cry there.
It's not traditional, nor clean, but it's loving, safe. A home.
Mira and Zoey are her home.
And Rumi would never have it any other way.