Chapter Text
Rumi's life was a simple one and she liked it that way. Most days started with an early alarm, breakfast, a run around the block and then getting ready for work.
Most days ended with her sinking into her chair on her balcony with her plants and listening to music to calm the gremlins in her brain. When it got too dark, she'd head inside and put something on the tv she usually ended up ignoring.
Her days off started the same, but usually included a run at the nearby park, taking care of errands and her volunteer work.
Today started differently.
When she came back to her building she saw a moving van parked out in front. There was only one free unit, which was across the hall and held the balcony next to hers and Rumi had never had a balcony neighbor before. The thought made her just a little anxious but she reasoned she could just wear headphones to not disturb them.
She nearly ran into a pole when she caught a glimpse at her new neighbors. They were both women, one taller than her and the other shorter. The taller one had long hair dyed pink and was wearing a chic blouse and a matching short skirt that revealed long legs as she walked. Her face had a severe cut to it that made Rumi forget how to breathe.
The other woman's hair was black, pulled back into cute space-buns. She was wearing baggy pants and a croptop and had freckles dusting her cheeks. Her smile did something to Rumi's heart that made her feel like she'd just jogged fifteen blocks instead of one.
"Hello," She said, her mouth betraying her before her brain had fully caught up. "I think I'm your new neighbor."
The short girl fumbled the box she was carrying and nearly dropped it as the taller one stubbed her toe on a step and winced. Rumi now had their attention and could feel heat rising up her neck, "I'm Rumi."
"Hi," the shorter one breathed, wide-eyed. "Zoey."
"Mira." The taller had a cool expression on her face but her eyes took Rumi in appraisingly. It took all of Rumi's will power to keep her eyes from drifting up and down either of them.
And here Rumi was sweating in leggings and a tight long sleeved crop top. Great.
"If you need anything, my door is across the hall." Rumi slipped past them and all but bolted for the stairs, taking them two at a time to the second floor. She slammed her door behind her and covered her face with her hands.
One shower and change of clothing later, Rumi emerged from her apartment with a bagel and dressed in shorts and a different crop top. Downstairs, the van was still there, though it looked like all that remained were some boxes.
"Hi." Zoey grinned at her from inside the van.
"You guys move fast," Rumi said, looking around. "I didn't think I took that long to shower."
Zoey's eyes darted up and down Rumi so quickly that Rumi assumed it was a trick of the light, "We had some help but they bailed after the furniture got moved in."
"Do you need any more help?" Rumi asked, feeling heat on her face and not entirely sure why.
Mira's voice behind her sent her heart skipping several beats, "Thanks, but we're pretty much done. You missed all the hard stuff."
"Wait there's still a box," Zoey said, pointing at one.
"Zo, it's heavy but we can handle it with both of us, we don't need to…" Mira's voice trailed off as Rumi lifted the box.
It was heavy, but she'd lifted worse.
Zoey squeaked and Mira's eyes were wide and her mouth hanging open as Rumi carried the box past her. If her heart did little flutters, she ignored it all the way to the elevator, Mira scrambling to keep up. She stood, back stiff next to Rumi as the lift took them up, muttering a quiet, "Thanks…"
"Not a problem."
Mira nodded once, then led her to the door and pushed it open for her, "Just set it down over there."
Carefully, Rumi lowered the box in the designated spot, then stood and stretched out her back.
"You okay?" Mira asked, eyeing her, "That took both of us to get it into the truck."
"I didn't pull anything," Rumi replied, turning and smiling at her. "I have to move a lot of heavy things around so I'm used to it."
"Want some water?" Mira asked.
"Thanks, but I should leave you to it." Rumi awkwardly held out her hand and when Mira took it Rumi forgot what she was going to say for one second too long before she blurted, "Welcome to the building."
She fled so fast she almost tripped over Zoey as Zoey came in.
Once inside the relative safety of her apartment, she ran her hands over her face, and later, when sitting on her balcony listening to quiet music, she could hear laughter through an open window next door, the sound wrapping around her comfortingly.
They had a garden. Which was great, actually. Something Rumi could talk to them about. It was a beginner one, really. Rumi first noticed the pots a few days after they moved in, before catching Zoey and Mira on the balcony arranging some. She leaned on her railing, looking at the pots.
Zoey nearly dropped a pot she was carrying outside when she saw her, "H-hi!"
"What are you planting?" Rumi asked, mouth going dry as she realized Zoey was wearing a sparkly green sports bra and cut off jean shorts. Her abs were on full display, Rumi could see her thighs and she forced her eyes to Zoey's face and that pretty smile with the dimples and her heart pounded in her chest.
What the fuck.
"Flowers to start." Mira stepped out onto the balcony and Rumi's entire brain suffered a system failure.
Mira was wearing a red, french-cut bikini.
Who plants flowers in a bikini?
Mira, apparently. With her legs for days and there was so much leg it was absurd really but if she looked at Zoey she could see her core strength and oh god Mira had abs too but —
There was nowhere safe to look at either of them. Too low and legs too high and those beautiful faces and in between was even worse because Rumi was straight and women did nothing for her.
What the fuck.
A bit of sunlight made their skin shine and Rumi backpeddled.
"I just remembered I left my parakeet in the oven," Rumi said, turning around and rushing inside.
She stood in her living room and groaned, "I left my parakeet in the oven?!"
Rumi's life was a simple one. She liked it that way! Breakfast and her runs, work and her volunteering. Her peaceful balcony time that was not supposed to include two supermodels in swimsuits.
But right now her heart was racing and she'd made an absolute idiot of herself and if she closed her eyes all she saw was those two women and all that skin.
Rumi was too straight for this. But she might just need to get revenge, which was totally normal of her.
Rumi's evenings changed.
She didn't notice it was changing at first, but Mira and Zoey started joining her in the evenings on their balcony. Sometimes it was her playlist, sometimes it was theirs, sometimes they just talked. Frequently, she caught herself admiring the way the light of the setting sun fell on their faces.
That didn't mean anything, of course.
They still kept up their … attire … when gardening in the mornings and Rumi … well she wasn't staring, per se.
Or gawking.
Or getting flutters in her stomach and a burning heat low in her core.
Or having dreams that meant nothing.
Or wondering how they'd react to her in a swim suit.
She needed a new one anyway, she reasoned to herself, finding a silver one piece with some suggestive cutouts. Rumi hadn't realized the downside to it until she was staring at herself in the mirror and tracing the scars on her left shoulder and bicep in the familiar pattern. Her fingers dropped to the ones on her forearm just below her elbow.
Rumi didn't have too many friends. She was too focused and too set in her ways, and some people tended to freak out about her scars.
Confidence had used to be something she'd had in spades. She could turn any man's eyes by walking into a room and probably still could if she really tried. Not that she was trying to catch her neighbors' attention or anything.
And if they were going to be weird about her scars better now than before she — before she let them in. Figuratively speaking.
Rumi really wanted to let them in.
They weren't on their balcony yet when she went out there, and while she felt a little exposed she also felt a little nice. The sunlight was warm on her skin, there was a nice breeze, and her plants were happy therefore she was happy and started to sing lightly as she watered them.
A thud brought her attention to the other balcony, Zoey hopping and holding her foot while also staring at Rumi with wide eyes and a slack jaw.
"Zo, are you—" Mira paused in the door way, mouth dropping open as she stared at Rumi.
Their expressions sent a thrill through her, and Rumi turned towards them and waved, "Good morning."
Zoey's face started to turn the color of Mira's hair, but Mira's eyes darted to Rumi's left side and then back again, but she didn't look disgusted or judgemental. Curious, maybe. The scars were clearly not recent so concern wasn't really warranted, but for some reason Rumi felt … safe.
Like they could be safe if something happened. She shook herself out of it and resumed tending to her plants, bending over to reach one and murmuring to it.
Zoey made a high pitched sound and gasped out, "I need a drink you need a drink? I'll get us some lemonade."
"Please," Mira said, thickly.
"Do..do you want anything, Rumi?"
She glanced back over her shoulder at Zoey's question, noting that Mira's gaze was… lower than necessary, and Zoey was staring somewhere above Rumi's head. Giddy with power, Rumi replied, "I'll have whatever you're having, thank you!"
A little voice in her head that sounded suspiciously like one of her aunts scolded her, 'You're straight, stop teasing the lesbians next door.'
Or the whatever they were.
And they were married she'd seen their rings. Rumi didn't want to be a homewrecker, especially since she was straight. But they were staring at her. And not getting mad about the other staring and in fact she was pretty sure Mira had stopped functioning because she hadn't moved from where she was standing until Zoey returned with the drinks. Rumi took one gratefully, leaning precariously over the gap between their balconies.
The brief, brief contact of her fingers against Zoey's nearly had her drop the drink. It was seismic. She wanted to kiss those fingers, feel them on her skin, hear Zoey's sweet sighs. Know what Mira sounded like when she—
Not trusting her legs, Rumi dropped onto her chair and sipped the lemonade while she tried not to spiral about where her thoughts were going.