In Between Us || Zhanyi

Untitled Part 25

Under Work: 15/09/2024

The next morning, Zhan stepped onto campus, the shirt fitting him perfectly, accentuating his frame in ways he hadn't expected. It was soft, comfortable, and to his surprise, effortlessly stylish despite its modest origins. Heads turned as he passed; some of his students openly admired him, their gazes lingering longer than usual. Zhan couldn't help but feel an extra spark in his step, wondering if Yibo had known just how well it would suit him. It was not a surprise his appearance became the hot topic for the campus.

Later in the morning, he returned to his office, the silence of the room allowing him to replay the morning in his mind. The blush that rose to his cheeks wasn't because of his students' attention, but because of the thought that Yibo had bought it with such care. His fingers absently traced the soft material as he replayed the moment he connected the dots. Yibo had bought it. The thought filled him with a strange mix of pride and guilt. The shirt, though local and simple, fit him perfectly—too perfectly. It was as if Yibo had memorized every inch of his frame. The professor smirked, remembering their intimate moments, the way Yibo's hands used to roam over his body. The thought made him blush, the heat crawling up his neck. He wondered how Yibo could know him so well, better than anyone else, that Yibo brought him a shirt, perfectly fitted, that too on the very next day of their wedding day.

Just then, the bell rang, pulling him out of his reverie. His next class was starting. Zhan straightened himself, feeling that odd warmth in his chest as he went to teach, hoping Yibo would notice the shirt and the significance behind it.

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Throughout the lecture, Zhan found himself glancing at Yibo, who sat attentively in the corner, his expression reserved as always. Zhan coughed a few times, hoping it would catch Yibo's attention, but Yibo kept his eyes on his notes, completely unaware of Zhan's silent plea. The small gestures didn't go unnoticed by Zhan, and slowly his initial eagerness began to morph into a simmering frustration. How could Yibo not notice? He was wearing the shirt he bought! Did it mean nothing? Did he mistake it? Was it really not Yibo who brought it?

Finally, as the class drew to a close, Zhan could no longer suppress his irritation. He cleared his throat, his voice slicing through the low murmurs of students packing their things.

"Yibo," Zhan called firmly "stay back. I have something to discuss with you."

Yibo, startled by the unusual command, nodded, his posture immediately respectful and obedient, the way he always was in the presence of authority. He kept his gaze low, unsure of what he might have done wrong but too shy to ask.

The students froze for a second, exchanging curious glances but nevertheless, they all left eventually. Zhan felt his pulse quicken as the classroom emptied, leaving just the two of them. He watched as Yibo stood quietly, waiting for instructions, his posture straight but guarded.

The door banged with the last student closing it after exit, making the classroom quieter. Zhan walked across his desk, now standing in front. He leaned against his desk, his eyes never leaving Yibo. "Come here.", Zhan's voice held a commanding edge.

Yibo looked up, briefly meeting his gaze before quickly looking away, assuming this was a professor's command. His feet moved as if on autopilot, bringing him to stand before Zhan. But there was something different in Zhan's voice—something that made Yibo's heart race.