GEMINI.
The small, plain pasta bowl felt ridiculously heavy in my hands. Honestly, it was just instant pasta, but holding it now, after he'd basically traveled hours just to see me, it feels like something more. The whole exchange—which had lasted maybe three minutes tops—stretched out like a lifetime. We were standing closer than two friends should, the residual warmth of his hands, when he'd first touched me, still tingling on my skin.
Percy took one look at my tiny, wooden desk chair—the one I usually practically live in while reading—and dismissed it. He didn't even say a word, just a casual, slow shake of his head. It was that look of subtle dissatisfaction he reserves for things like badly brewed coffee or a slow internet connection.
"Your bed," he stated, his voice a low, gravelly command that didn't leave any room for debate. "We need to get you a bigger one. I've decided this is not comfortable enough."
Wait, what? A bigger bed? He's been gone for just twenty-four hours, and the first thing he does is critique my sleeping arrangements? I was ready to stutter out a protest about dorm rules and the sheer ridiculousness of the thought—but he was already moving. He effortlessly navigated the cramped space and settled against my pillows where I'd been reading just moments earlier.
He propped himself up, resting the pasta bowl on the ridiculously expensive leather bag he'd placed beside him. He somehow turned my twin-sized bed into a temporary, five-star airport lounge. Then, he started eating the instant pasta with the same deliberate, controlled movements he uses for everything else.
I walked over slowly, feeling utterly awkward and self-conscious. I perched on the very edge of the mattress beside him, making sure to leave him what felt like a mile of space. On this narrow bed, it was only inches. The soft dip of the mattress under his weight subtly, almost magnetically, pulled me toward him.
My initial wave of panic was completely gone, replaced by a deep, aching awareness of him. He looked utterly at peace. I watched as the tired lines around his eyes seemed to smooth out with every bite.
"This is good," he said with a genuine smile.
"It's just instant pasta," I managed, my voice strained and a bit too loud. "Percy, you could have had anything in the world right now, and you're eating that."
He stopped chewing, looking up at me over the rim of the bowl. His green eyes held a depth that made my stomach absolutely flip.
"I know," he replied, easily. He put the bowl down for a second and gestured around my dorm room. "Isn't it funny? The entire flight back, the only place I could picture being was exactly here. I thought I only needed your presence. But this instant pasta," he finished with a slight smirk, picking up his fork again, "is a nice bonus."
Okay. That admission was stark. It wasn't about the food or my room; it was about the overwhelming, immediate desire for my presence—a desire so strong it clearly beat out logic.
I noticed the faint smudge of weariness under his eyes again. I reached out and, without even thinking about it, gently plucked a tiny piece of lint from the shoulder of his jacket. My fingers lingered for just a second against the dark, fine fabric.
"You should probably take a shower after you finish eating," I whispered, the suggestion less a desperate attempt to change the subject and more a genuine flood of concern. "You look like you've been up and about for twenty-four hours straight. You're going to get sick if you keep going like this."
He smiled, a genuine, tired crinkle appearing at the corners of his eyes. He set the bowl carefully onto the bag. He didn't make a move to stand up, though. Instead, he reached out and took my hand, drawing it and me slightly closer, pulling me from the precarious edge of the bed toward the pillows.
"In a minute," he promised, his thumb tracing the delicate curve of my knuckles slowly. The contact was a warm, low current passing between us. "Just let me sit here for a minute more."
And so we sat. My hand was a willing captive in his, the tension coiling tight in the small, lamplit space. Was this still just normal friendship on my part? Or was it something else entirely? He still held my hand, and I didn't move or just pull away.
The sudden sound of the shower turning on made me jump, breaking the intense silence that had wrapped around us. Percy had finally let go of my hand, giving me the excuse I needed to move. While I waited, I quickly scanned my small closet.
Okay. Percy is at least a foot taller and probably twice my size. What on earth do I have that will fit him?
I rummaged through the pile of folded clothes. He could never wear one of my t-shirts; they'd look ridiculous, like a child's shirt on a grown man. The only hope I had was my lounge pants. I pulled out the only pair that stood a chance—a ridiculously oversized pair of gray sweatpants he'd bought for me last time we went shopping and I rarely wore.
Just then, the bathroom door creaked open. Percy stepped out, his blonde hair damp and slicked back, a towel wrapped low around his waist. The scent of my cheap soap, now mixed with his natural scent, suddenly made my dorm room smells expensive and very much his.
He looked over, his eyes landing on the gray fabric in my hands.
"Found something?" he asked, a small, knowing smile playing on his lips.
I tried to keep my face neutral. "Just barely," I admitted, holding up the pants. "These are the only ones big enough. They should work for the night." I tossed them onto the bed.
I was suddenly feeling very nervous for some reason as he looked at me.
"We should probably... uh, we should probably get you some actual sleeping clothes later. Like, clothes for when you stay over."
I immediately regretted the words. Why did I say 'when you stay over'? Why not just 'if you stay over' or 'when you visit'?
He slowly unwrapped the towel from his waist, but paused before putting on the pants, holding my gaze. The air suddenly felt thick and charged again.
"Oh?" he drawled, his voice low and teasing. He took a deliberate step toward me. "Is that an invitation, Gemini? Are you suggesting I'll be staying here often enough to warrant a whole new wardrobe?"
Tension. My pulse hammered. He stood right there, looking too big and too close, wearing nothing but a smug smirk and a towel that was dangerously low.
"I'm suggesting you might get sick if you sleep in that towel," I countered weakly, trying to regain control. I pointed to the sweatpants on the bed. "Put this on, Percy. Now."
He chuckled, a deep, easy sound that softened the lines around his mouth. He finally moved to the bed, slipping the gray pants on. They were still slightly short on his long legs, but they settled perfectly on his hips. He turned back to me, looking entirely too attractive in my borrowed, oversized sweatpants.
"Fine," he said, the tease still lingering in his tone. "But I'm holding you to that shopping trip. I enjoyed our last one."
Of course, you did.