In Between Us || Zhanyi

Untitled Part 19

Under Working: 10/09/2024

Zhan woke up with a splitting headache, his migraine flaring again. "Yi---"....Zhan was about to call but then realizing his foolish act that too this early morning, he cursed himself under his breath......."damn!!!"....... Zhan rummaged into the bedside drawer but no avail, he didn't repurchase his medicine.

"Shit!!", Zhan cursed again. "But didn't it stop recently??? ". It had been months since his last migraine....ever since his marriage, really??? or  when Yibo started taking care of him. His meal was on time, water and liquids were enough, sleep was qualitatively good.

Zhan sighed, he had no mood to tired himself early morning thinking again and again. He dragged himself to the bathroom, hoping a hot shower would shake off the pain. But as he stepped in, he was greeted with another mess. Seeking a warm shower to ease his muscles, he reached for the tap, expecting the usual warmth of the water, but nothing came.

The water was ice cold.

Zhan blinked in confusion before realization sank in. Yibo. Lately he had always been Yibo who made sure the water heater was turned on, who noticed the small details and took care of, making Zhan slowly stopped bothering with such. Zhan shut off the faucet, sighing as the cold bit at his fingertips, a reminder that things had quietly changed in ways he hadn't even noticed before.

Nothing was in its usual place. Yibo had always been the one to keep the towels folded, the soap restocked, the bathroom neat and tidy. Zhan noticed the scattered bottles of shampoo and body wash from last night, still lying there. The towel he used was draped carelessly over the basin counter.

Frustration prickled at him, not at the disorder itself but at the unfamiliarity of it all. Zhan had been so used to everything being just right, never even realizing when Yibo's quiet diligence had taken over the order from him......of him. Without his husband, it all felt... wrong. He gritted his teeth and forced himself through the motions, though the water still felt too cold, too empty.

When he stepped out of the bathroom, dripping and tired, the apartment greeted him with a cold stillness that now felt suffocating. He glanced around........the bed was undone, his office clothes still on the bedroom couch. He somehow managed to make the bed then took his clothes to dump in laundry basket in the balcony. He needed his tea and something to eat as soon as possible as his head felt like splitting into two.  

But as he came out of his room, his eyes widen-----tacks of papers scattered on his desk, his shoes left by the door, the coat from yesterday slung over the chair, his half-eaten bread and milk glass carelessly left on the dinning table, the tea preparing things on kitchen island—his own mess, once manageable, now felt like it was swallowing him whole.

What happened to him? He had always been organized, always kept everything in order. Now, his apartment was a reflection of the disarray inside him. He found himself too lazy, too tired to care about tidying up. It wasn't just the physical mess; it was the unfamiliarity of a life that, without Yibo, seemed to be slipping out of his control. He didn't found any zeal from inside to do a single work, a shuttle sadness linger inside him but outside it was all frustration and anger.