The twelve Zodiacs all live together at a boarding school, but all that changes when Gemini claims she saw a magical airship hovering over the academy. The other eleven protested that there was nothing but despair and clouds in its place, but when t...
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Gemini POV
"If you die," I told the sleeping form of Cancer angrily. "I will march into heaven and drag you right back down."
"Wow. Talk about different types of love," Taurus remarked, leaning against the door frame.
I tensed up, then rolled my eyes when I saw who it was. "Shut up. You know I don't feel anything for him. That's you."
A flush climbed up his neck, and he narrowed his green eyes at me. "Take your own advice, Gem."
I pursed my lips and darted a glance at Cancer's pale form. He was twisted up in his bed covers, bandages wrapping around his chest and back from where Scorpio's tail had pierced his skin. Fluffy ginger bangs were plastered against his sweat-soaked forehead, nimble fingers curling, gripping the covers.
"He's shivering," I noticed. My hand squirmed, wedged underneath my thigh as I reached over and felt his temperature. "Are you going to do anything or just stand there staring at your best friend?"
Taurus scowled, swiftly closing the door behind him and coming to sit beside Cancer's bed. "Stop making it sound weird."
"It is weird," I scoffed slightly, egged on by Taurus's raised eyebrow. "But you know what else is weird? No one else knowing about your giant-ass crush on Cancer except Libra when you're so fucking obvious."
He rolled his eyes, leaning his head so that black bangs fell in front of his eyes. I was familiar with the action, getting it repeatedly in his freshmen year when I got paired up with him for the sophomore-freshmen project. I chewed on the loose skin of my lip. "Really, Taur? Not gonna say anything?"
"It's just a small crush," he said matter-of-factly, not even seeming surprised that I noticed. "I'll get over it."
"Oh, sure," I said sarcastically. "Like I got over my crush of Mr. I-fucked-the-seat."
He blinked in confusion. "Who?"
"Point is," I hurriedly interrupted before he gave me the chance to elaborate. "I don't believe you. Mind you, I never had a crush on him in the first place," I added. It was true. "Should I use another example . . .?"
Because Taurus's face had just transformed into the definition of confusion. I cleared my throat, looking around to make sure she didn't pop out of nowhere.
"Aries," I said quietly. "Never got over her crush."
"She hates it when I use her as an example," I whispered back. Then, at normal volume, "Anyways, you'll get friendzoned. Cancer's straight."
A look crossed his face so quickly I could've swore it was never there in the first place. "I know that. I was his roommate," he said slowly, as if explaining something to a toddler.
