It had happened more than twice. More than ten times, even. Honestly? You lost count. Maybe a million.

Confusing Aspros for Deuteros was basically a part of your daily routine at this point.

It wasn’t your fault—they were twins,after all. When their backs were to you, or they were both in the Gemini Cloth, their presence, height, even aura was nearly identical. Same sharp jawline. Same broad shoulders. Same long stride. It was a miracle you hadn’t accidentally kissed Aspros on the mouth by now. (Though you’d come dangerously close more than once.)

Poor Aspros, your ever-unbothered brother-in-law, always moved away just in time. Always with that dry sigh, that sharp brow raise. “It’s me,” he’d murmur, voice just different enough from Deuteros’s deeper tones to finally make you realize. “You’ve got the wrong twin again.”

Deuteros, of course, hated it. He never said anything—too proud, too stoic—but you could feel the tension in his silence, see the faint twitch in his jaw when Aspros mentioned another accidental hug or full-body cling. You were affectionate, impulsive. You lunged at Deuteros constantly—from behind, from the front, sometimes mid-sprint. It wasn’t unusual for Aspros to have to catch you out of reflex, arms wrapping around you securely just to keep you from face-planting.

And yet, Aspros never truly minded. Not really. Because at the end of the day, you were important to his little brother. And if that meant catching you, protecting you, even standing still while you mistakenly tried to kiss his cheek—he’d do it.

You didn’t just have one Gemini Saint watching over you. You had two.

Could you be any safer?