The Best Of Me || GeminiFourth RPF

8. The Distance Between Us

Fourth was avoiding him—that much was clear to Gemini as they sat across from each other at dinner, the space between them somehow wider than the physical distance. Fourth's avoidance felt heavy, and Gemini knew exactly why. He hated himself for what he'd done earlier that day. He'd tried to kiss Fourth—God, what had he been thinking? It was painfully obvious that Fourth was with someone, and Gemini had intruded on that boundary. Maybe not officially with Phuwin, but there was someone. Someone who had left that visible, unforgiving hickey on Fourth's neck, a reminder of what Gemini couldn't have.

After excusing himself with a shaky explanation of exhaustion, Fourth left the table early, leaving Gemini alone to stew in his thoughts. He slumped back in his chair, letting his head fall against the cushioned backrest as he released a deep, frustrated sigh.

"Did something happen between you two?" P'Earn's voice cut through the tense silence, and Gemini opened one eye to see her sitting down beside him, concern written all over her face.

"What do you mean?" he asked, his voice a bit too casual, hoping to deflect.

"Well, you two disappeared after lunch, and when you came back, Fourth looked like he'd rather be anywhere but here."

Had everyone noticed? That familiar pang of embarrassment crawled up his chest. The idea of admitting to P'Earn that he and Fourth had almost kissed—and that he'd pulled away, overwhelmed by the sheer terror of getting hurt—felt like baring his soul.

"Nah," he muttered, straightening up as he absently pushed his glass of water across the table. "Just tired. We ran around a bit and took some photos in different spots."

P'Earn's expression was skeptical. He could feel her searching gaze dissecting every inch of his forced nonchalance. She sighed, and he leaned his head against her shoulder like a puppy, an instinctive bid for comfort. She huffed, playfully nudging him away with a small smile.

"Lighten up, phi," he said, feigning a smile as he poked her arm. "I'm just going to head up soon. Tired and sleepy."

P'Earn fell silent for a moment, then asked, "Are you sure nothing happened?"

"Sure, sure," Gemini replied, a bit too quickly. "What, did you think we fought or something? Don't worry. We don't fight now."

They used to fight, back when they were younger and more reckless. Back then, it was almost like a ritual for them—a passionate argument would lead to an equally passionate reconciliation, each fight somehow binding them closer together. He could still remember how Fourth would always be the first to make peace, clinging to him ten minutes after an argument, his clinginess a silent apology that Gemini cherished more than any words.

But things were different now. They'd long since stopped those intense quarrels, too drained by the demands of their careers. "Golden children," GMMTV called them. Or maybe "cash cows" was more accurate. Three successful series together and now a new project with P'Aof meant they were in high demand, being sent to events, commercials, and guest roles almost without pause. Gemini loved the work, he really did. But every so often, he craved a sliver of time just for himself, a chance to sit in silence, play a game, or listen to music for the sake of enjoyment—without feeling like he needed to produce something of commercial value. He missed the freedom of those quiet moments, the small reprieves that were getting harder and harder to find.

As the crew finally started heading toward their rooms, Gemini paused in front of his door, his voice barely above a murmur as he bid them all goodnight. He was drained to his core; the ache in his head throbbed in sync with the dull hurt in his heart, an ache that went deeper than any of them could see. He didn't want to think, didn't want to feel. All he wanted was the oblivion of sleep.