Third Person's POV.
The incident with the snobby girls at the architecture building fundamentally altered Percy's behavior. He took Ohio's charged stance and the oppressive atmosphere as a hint of trouble. To him, that was a direct threat to Gemini, and his response was physical claim, immediate and very public.
Percy's actions became more overtly possessive in public. The subtle closeness they enjoyed privately was suddenly extended into every social and academic settings.
If they were walking across the campus grounds, Percy's hand wasn't just near Gemini's shoulder; it was firmly resting there, a silent, heavy declaration that the younger boy was his. During group study sessions with his friends, he wouldn't just sit next to Gemini; he would angle his body to block Gemini off from others, ensuring their conversation remained between the two of them.
He'd casually dismiss anyone who lingered too long near Gemini. Once, during a lecture break, a classmate tried to ask Gemini a question about how to get a part-time job at the Crestwood Greens. Percy smoothly interrupted, handing Gemini a bottled water: "Focus on the exam schedule, Gemini. You don't have time for distractions." The message was clear: Gemini was his priority, and therefore, his concern.
"He's acting like your bodyguard, Gem. It's so cute," Ohio observed with wide, delighted eyes. "He practically growled at Cole for borrowing your pencil earlier."
But instead of feeling flattered or protected, Gemini started acting more withdrawn. Percy's public claim was putting an immense pressure on him. Every possessive touch felt like a spotlight, highlighting the vast difference in their social and financial standing—the very thing the snobby girls had taunted him about.
He began avoiding eye contact with Percy's friends, feeling the weight of their judgment and curious gaze. He spoke less during social gatherings, fearing any word would be misinterpreted as him seeking Percy's attention.
His internal struggle was far more agonizing. He's not some rich boy's accessory. He didn't come to St. Morre to become the center of attention. He recognized that Percy's friends and, more importantly, his family, had expectations for Percy's romantic life—expectations that Gemini, a boy from a working-class family, could never fulfill.
"We need to study separately today," Gemini insisted one afternoon, grabbing his books. "I can't focus with you hovering. It's too distracting."
"I am merely making sure you're safe," Percy replied, his face expressionless, though his eyes showed a faint, wounded confusion.
"Well, that's nice and all but I don't think you need to worry about me. I can take care of myself," Gemini retorted, already halfway out the door.
This emotional withdrawal only got worse with Valentine's Day approaching. The holiday loomed like a massive, glittering conflict. It demanded definitions and declarations that Gemini was desperately trying to avoid.
He didn't know what Percy felt, but he knew what Percy deserved: a partner who fit his world, who wouldn't be an embarrassment at a family function or a professional liability. Gemini no longer saw himself just as Percy's friend who helps him sleep better at night, but as a dangerous distraction.
He didn't want to be an obstacle to Percy. The thought was constant. He couldn't shake the fear that if their relationship (whatever it was) continued to escalate publicly, it would genuinely hurt Percy's standing with his family and in his future.
Gemini knew he needed to create distance, even if Percy was incapable of doing so. He needed to be the one to restore the balance, even if it meant breaking the comfortable routine they'd built.
The sudden, self-imposed distance began immediately. Gemini started leaving Percy's place before the older boy even woke up. The safe, familiar warmth of Percy's side was replaced by the cold rush of the morning air as Gemini slipped out the door, his internal clock set to beat the sunrise.
He found excuses to avoid Percy during the day, too. When Percy would text, "I'm just leaving the house, I should be there in ten," for their usual evening pickup, Gemini would reply with a quick: "Thanks, but I'll take a cab. Need to drop off some books at the library." Or, "Working late. Will come over when I'm done here."
He was effectively cutting out all the alone time—the spontaneous car rides, the quiet morning coffee, the intimate late-night study breaks—the spaces where Percy's care is naturally parked.
Percy noticed the change instantly. He was a man of routines, and Gemini's sudden detachment was a major disruption to that routine.
One afternoon, when Gemini showed up for their scheduled study session thirty minutes late and visibly out of breath, Percy set down his pen. His voice was low, laced with the concern Gemini was desperate to avoid.
"You're always rushing now. You left before 7 AM this morning," Percy observed, his green eyes fixed on Gemini. "Is everything okay? You can talk to me, you know?"
Gemini kept his face deliberately blank as he dropped his bag. "Yes, everything is fine. I just have a lot of things to get done before exams. You know how it is."
"I do, but that's why I take care of the commutes," Percy countered, his brow furrowed in confusion. "You don't need to tire yourself out walking across campus every day. It's illogical."
"It's not illogical, it's efficient for my personal errands," Gemini insisted, a little too quickly. He busied himself pulling out his drafting supplies, refusing to meet Percy's gaze. "Don't worry about it. Let's just focus on studying. I can take care of myself."
Percy held his silence for a moment, his scrutiny heavy enough to make Gemini's hands tremble slightly. He didn't press the issue, but the air between them grew thick, weighted by Gemini's unanswered emotional retreat.
Gemini felt the guilt, but he clung to his conviction. Every step he took away from Percy was a necessary self-sacrifice—a way to protect Percy from the inevitable complications that Gemini felt he represented. He had to be the sensible one, the one who saw the bigger picture, even if it meant breaking his own heart by withdrawing from the comfortable space Percy had built for him.