Arranged Marriage

Chapter 21

The clock on the wall ticked steadily, but inside the house, time refused to move.

It was supposed to be a quiet evening. One of those unremarkable nights that, over time, became more precious for their simplicity. Dinner was barely touched on the table. The movie they had started playing in the background had long since faded into white noise. The only thing that remained was the silence—dense and suffocating.

Fourth hadn't spoken much that day.

Not the quiet where his lips were still but his thoughts raced. Not the kind Gemini usually teased him for, when he'd sit curled up with a book and forget the world. No, this quiet had teeth. It gnawed at the edges of the room. It filled the spaces between words they didn't say. It felt like he was waiting for something he didn't know was coming—but that his body already feared.

He sat on the couch, legs tucked under him, one of the cushions crushed to his chest like a lifeline. His fingers kept returning to the same loose thread at the seam, picking, twisting, unraveling.

Gemini noticed. He always did.

He walked over from the kitchen, glass of water in hand, and knelt slightly beside him, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder. His thumb grazed lightly against the soft cotton of the shirt Fourth was wearing, anchoring him.

"You okay?" he asked, soft and careful.

Fourth shook his head, once, before he could convince himself to lie.

And then—there was a knock at the door.

It wasn't loud. It wasn't hurried. It wasn't the kind of knock that second-guessed itself.

It was steady. Intentional. Three solid raps that seemed to echo too loudly in the stillness of their home.

Gemini straightened slowly, gaze flickering toward the door like it might bite. He gave Fourth a look that asked him to stay still, and then moved, cautious but composed.

The knock didn't come again.

Whoever stood on the other side had patience. Or certainty. Or maybe both.

Gemini cracked the door open, keeping the chain latched, peering out through the narrow space as his body blocked the view from inside.

At first, all he saw was a shadow. Then, a tall man in a crisp charcoal suit came into view—tall, composed, shoulders squared like someone who had learned long ago that posture was protection. His hair was neatly styled, his features sharp, but not cold. Behind him, another man, more casually dressed but no less watchful, held a laptop bag across his chest like a subtle badge of purpose.

"Gemini, right?" the first man asked.

His voice was deep. Measured. Familiar in a way that had no business being familiar.

"I'm First."

Gemini's eyes narrowed slightly, and he repeated the name aloud before it registered.

First.

He remembered now—like a puzzle piece clicking into place.

Fourth had said it once, almost absently, as if it had hurt too much to linger on the memory.

My brother. He left. Or maybe... they sent him away. I don't know anymore.

Gemini didn't step back.

"Why are you here?" he asked, quiet but firm. He wasn't hostile. Just protective. Like a wolf who'd learned how to guard a fragile pack.

"I'm here for Fourth," the man—First—replied. His gaze steady, his tone neither pleading nor demanding. "I'm his brother."