Fics like touch me where it's sore (I miss you, I miss you)

“Hi.” The single word, low and familiar, traveled through the phone and wrapped around Rumi like a physical touch. She let out a breath she hadn't realized she’d been holding, a heavy, relieved sigh that fogged the quiet air of her sterile hotel room. She hated this part. She hated the way travel always pulled her out of herself, even when she loved the work. Even when being on stage, under lights, singing until her lungs burned, was the most fulfilling thing she could imagine, there was always this if she was alone — the hotel room after. The emptiness. The sterile smell of laundry detergent baked into the sheets. The way the city outside the window hummed with life while she lay there in silence, counting the minutes. This one, a two-day photoshoot in Tokyo for a high-end clothing campaign, was the kind of work she’d once dreamed of — fulfilling, prestigious, the kind of thing that solidified HUNTR/X’s status not just as idols, but as icons. She loved it. And she hated it. OR Polytrix sex call one shot.

Fics like touch me where it's sore (I miss you, I miss you)

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