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Rumi leans forward on the couch, her hair falling into her face. “Two weeks,” she murmurs, though she doesn’t sound convinced. “That’s what they’re saying.”
Mira, beside her, doesn’t flinch. Arms folded, her expression calm but sharp, she answers without looking away from the TV. “They’re never honest about the first number. It’ll be longer.”Rumi knows she’s right, but another thought presses louder in her head: Zoey.
Zoey, alone across the city in her too-small apartment, her family stuck thousands of miles away in America. Zoey, with her restless energy and big heart, the one who fills every silence with laughter or questions or that wide, blinding smile. Zoey, who Rumi loves just as surely as the woman sitting at her side.Rumi glances toward Mira, choosing her words carefully. She touches Mira’s thigh, soft and grounding. “Babe… what if Zoey stayed here?”
or
Polytrix in lockdown/quarantine fic that nobody asked me for.
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