GEMINI.
After a traitorous night at Percy's, I was finally able to come back to campus. The moment I walked through the doorway of my dorm room, I dropped my backpack with a relieved thud, and let out the longest, most satisfying exhale I'd taken all week. The air in the dorm room was blessedly neutral—no lingering scent of expensive perfumes or coffee, just the faint aroma of textbooks and the slightly dusty comforter.
I have never been so happier to be back in my dorm room.
It's ridiculous, I know. I had spent the last few days enjoying the luxury of Percy's apartment, eating gourmet meals, getting a fantastic new job, and surviving a very intimate cuddle session. Objectively, his place was better: bigger, cleaner, quieter and more comfortable. But my dorm room, messy as it is, feels like the only space on campus where I wasn't an active participant in an ongoing, high-tension social experiment by Penelope Morre.
I know I shouldn't feel this way because at Percy's, I'm well-fed, cared for and fussed over. While here, I'm just Gemini, the guy who needed to study for his upcoming exams. But I can't help it. There's so much I don't understand and it's driving me nuts! I sank onto my bed, burying my face in my pillow with a loud groan. The memory of Penelope's delightful smile was still painfully fresh in my mind. Every time my phone makes a buzzing sound, I'm half-convinced it was her, teasing me about my top tier "nursing duties" or "cuddle sessions."
I grabbed my laptop and pulled up my emails. It feels like the only safe activity left at this point. The irony was not lost on me: the dorm was supposed to be the chaotic place, and Percy's house the calm refuge. But since that fever incident, the roles had completely flipped. My dorm room, with its loud mates was now my sanctuary.
I knew the reprieve wouldn't last though. I have a shift at the Crestwood Greens tomorrow, and Percy would inevitably pick me up and insist on dinner at whatever fancy restaurant he wants to check out after my shift. The cycle would start all over again. But for this one evening, I had successfully retreated behind the thin walls of my dorm room, and for the first time all day, I feel like I can breathe.
The next day followed the new, strange rhythm of my life. I attended classes, hung out with Ohio, enjoying the predictable challenge of academia, and then headed straight to my shift at the Crestwood Greens. The job was easy, the pay was great, and the members were still predictably fixated on my eyes. It was a trade-off, the kind I can manage.
As the sun dipped below the horizon, Percy pulled up to the service entrance. I got in, tossing my bag onto the backseat, already bracing myself for the subtle intensity that always seemed to accompany him now.
We drove in silence for a few minutes, the gentle music doing its job of setting a comfortable atmosphere. Then, Percy spoke, his voice unusually hesitant.
"I want to apologize for the things I did while I was sick," he said, keeping his eyes on the road.
I blinked, genuinely surprised. "What things? You mean the fever? You don't have to apologize for getting sick, Percy."
"Not the sickness itself," he clarified. "The clinginess. The change in my behavior. And… the whole sofa situation." He paused, his jaw working slightly. "My sister sent me a photograph."
I winced, closing my eyes momentarily. "Of course, she did."
"I don't usually lose that much control," he continued, his tone low and serious. "Or require that much proximity with another person. It was entirely unintentional, and I hope it didn't make you uncomfortable."
A warmth spread through me, chasing away the last vestiges of my embarrassment. The effort he was making to acknowledge the incident, to admit a loss of control, was huge for someone as reserved as him.
"Percy, you don't have to apologize," I told him sincerely. "You were running a high fever. You were out of it. And honestly, I didn't mind. I was just worried about you."
He eased the car to a gentle stop at a traffic light, finally turning his head to look at me. His expression was serious, searching.
"So you're no longer upset with me?"
I shook my head, my lips curving into a smile. "I was never upset, Percy. I was just...startled. And maybe a little embarrassed when Penelope walked in. But mostly, I was focused on making sure you were okay. Now that you are, it's just a weird story we can tell later."
He held my gaze for a moment, and I saw a flicker of relief in his green eyes. He didn't say anything, but the tension in his shoulders seemed to ease, and he turned back to the road. The apology wasn't really necessary, but the conversation was. It cleared the air, affirming the boundaries—and the lack thereof—that had been established without my consent.