Third Person's POV.
The following days flowed by for Percy and Gemini like the warm wind across the Aegean Sea—fast, exhilarating, and utterly unforgettable. The structured, rigid existence they were used to melted away, replaced by the effortless rhythm of vacation and shared intimacy. They stopped being who everyone expected them to be; they were just two people in love, lost in a blue-and-white paradise.
There was the sailing day, spent on a private catamaran that Percy had organized. They sailed around the caldera, the boat cutting through waves like a knife through silk. They stopped at the volcanic hot springs where the water turned a surprising, rusty orange.
"It looks like liquid copper," Percy whispered, dipping a toe in.
"It feels like a warm hug," Gemini teased, pulling Percy into the water. They laughed like children as they covered each other in thick, therapeutic volcanic mud.
Dinner was served on the deck as the sun dipped below the horizon, mirroring the fiery sunset they had shared on their first night. They ate in the middle of the ocean, the only sound being the water lapping against the hull.
There was shopping in Fira, not just for designers, but for art. Gemini insisted on ducking into small, dusty galleries to buy handcrafted ceramic pieces from local artists. He was fascinated by the unique Greek designs, his eyes lighting up as he explained the history of the patterns.
Percy bought a ridiculously expensive, wide-brimmed straw hat to protect Gemini's fair skin. Gemini immediately put it on, tilting it at a jaunty angle.
"Does it make me look like a mysterious traveler?" Gemini asked, striking a pose.
"It makes you look like my mysterious traveler," Percy admitted, pulling the brim down to steal a quick kiss.
There was food, glorious food. They spent hours at seaside tavernas, picking at enormous platters of fresh octopus and lemon-drizzled shrimp. They shared sweet, sticky baklava, the honey sticking to their fingers. Over liters of cold Assyrtiko wine, they talked about everything and nothing—from the ancient history of the Minoans to Gemini's quiet dream of pursuing a master's degree in architectural history.
And there was, perhaps most importantly, a lot of lovemaking. The pressure and stress of the outside world were gone, replaced by a deep, secure comfort that allowed their passion to burn brighter than ever. They were spontaneous and intense, rediscovering each other against the backdrop of the whitewashed villa and the endless blue.
Each time felt less like a feverish release of stress and more like an affirmation. It was a continuous, intimate promise that they had truly chosen this life, and each other.
The two weeks blurred into a cohesive memory of sun, salt, and absolute wholeness. Too soon, the last day arrived. Gemini woke up with a familiar sense of dread that the vacation was over, but it was tempered by the overwhelming happiness of the memories they had made.
He found Percy already showered and dressed, organizing their luggage with his usual practiced, military precision. Even when dealing with suitcases, Percy looked like he was planning a high-stakes corporate merger.
"It can't be time to go yet," Gemini mumbled, his voice thick with sleep. He pulled on a T-shirt and walked onto the terrace for one last look at the caldera.
Percy walked up behind him, wrapping his strong arms around Gemini's waist and pulling him back against his chest. It was a familiar, comforting weight.
"It is, Bunny," Percy murmured into his ear. "But we're not losing anything. We're just taking all the beautiful memories with us."
"But this place... it was our bubble," Gemini sighed, leaning his head back against Percy's shoulder.
"Our bubble is wherever we are," Percy promised, his grip tightening slightly. "We proved that the chaos of our daily lives and the work can't break us. We fought for what we have, and now we're living it. Our physical home just happens to be in a Manhattan apartment instead of an Oia villa."
They shared a slow, hungry kiss—a final taste of Greek sunlight and salt air—before finally closing the door on a wonderful vacation.
The trip to the airport was silent, but not tense. It was filled with quiet glances, intertwined fingers, and the shared knowledge that they were returning to the noise and the unavoidable reality of the Moore family. But they were returning stronger and together.
As they settled into their first-class seats on the plane, the flight attendant offered them vintage champagne.
"Just coffee, thank you," Percy told her. He turned to Gemini, his expression softening. "You should take a nap, Bunny. I've got some work emails to respond to. You'll feel more rested if you sleep through the first leg."
"I know," Gemini said, already feeling the hum of the plane's engines. He leaned his head on Percy's shoulder, closing his eyes.
Percy smiled, pressing a lingering kiss into Gemini's hair. "Sweet dreams, bunny."