In Between Us || Zhanyi

The Weight of Expectations

✒️Last worked: 08/08/2024

✅Improvement required before publish: Think of ideas to make the story reflect angst and toxicity in most realistic way....the story is about arrange marriage angst so the focus should be there.

_____________________________

 

Continue the flashback.................

The morning light filtered softly through the thin curtains, casting a pale glow across the room. Yibo slowly stirred, his body aching from the night before. He blinked a few times, adjusting to the light as his mind replayed the events of the last night, a familiar dullness settling in his chest.

Zhan had been intimate with him again......just like he did on their wedding night. It wasn't forceful, but it wasn't tender either. Yibo had learned to accept it, to endure the physical connection without complaint. The feeling of Zhan's hands on his skin, the weight of his body, it all felt mechanical now. He had no repulsion, but it wasn't romance but just another activity added to his daily routine.

It was just like an obligation, just like a class to attend, a duty to serve. Every night after Zhan had climaxed, he would shift to the other side of the bed without a word, his breathing steady as he drifted into sleep. Yibo lay still, eyes wide open, his mind a whirlwind of thoughts that had no place to settle.

For Zhan, it was a duty—Yibo knew that. He had learned to separate Zhan the professor from Zhan the husband, but the two versions of the man blurred at times, leaving Yibo in a strange limbo. There were no difference in his two roles, just the duties...the responsibilities altered a little. 

The cold distance between them was palpable, even after sharing such intimate moments. Zhan never said much afterward. There were no lingering touches, no words of affection or comfort. He simply rolled over and fell asleep, leaving Yibo alone with his thoughts, his body sore and his heart even more so.

Yibo shifted in bed, wincing slightly as the soreness in his body reminded him of how much he had given, again and again. His gaze moved to the empty side of the bed, the sheets already cool where Zhan had been. He was gone, as he always was in the morning. There was no good morning, no gentle wake-up call, no shared moments. Yibo had gotten used to waking up alone, his husband long gone, busy with his life as a professor, far removed from the duties of their marriage.

He sighed softly and forced himself to sit up, feeling the ache in his limbs as he did. It wasn't unbearable, but it was enough to remind him that this wasn't what he had hoped marriage would feel like. Still, Yibo didn't allow himself to dwell on it. He pushed the thoughts away, as he had learned to do, and dragged himself to the bathroom to wash up and take care of the residual discomfort from the night before. He didn't complain, didn't speak up—after all, wasn't this what was expected of him?

By the time he made his way to breakfast, Zhan was already seated at the table, sipping coffee while reading the morning paper. The casualness of the scene made Yibo's stomach churn with unease. Zhan looked up briefly as Yibo entered the room, his expression as composed as ever.

"You are late again, I expect you to get accustomed to our routine." Zhan said, his voice matter-of-fact, his tone wasn't harsh, but there was a finality to it, as if there was no room for discussion. "Sorry!!" Yibo simply apologized in response, his voice caught in his throat. He didn't feel hurt—he wasn't sure he felt anything at all anymore.