In Between Us || Zhanyi

|| 45 ||

Zhan found himself in the empty corridor outside the observation room, his shoulders slumping as the weight of solitude pressed harder against him. The silence was deafening, broken only by the distant hum of hospital equipment and the faint shuffle of footsteps echoing down the halls.

He lowered himself into one of the cold, hard chairs, his body sinking as if the weight of his fears were too much to carry. For the first time in years, Zhan felt truly helpless. The man who always tackled challenges head-on, who turned obstacles into opportunities, now sat paralyzed by an overwhelming sense of dread.

For the first time, the fear hit him in full force. It wasn't just worry or panic—it was a bone-deep, all-consuming terror. He felt suffocated as fear clawed at his chest, raw and unrelenting. His mind spiralled into the darkest possibilities.

The thought of Yibo lying pale and lifeless haunted him. His mind played out a thousand worst-case scenarios, each more unbearable than the last. What if the injury was worse than it seemed? What if Yibo didn't wake up? What if this was the last time he saw him? He tried to push the thoughts away, but they kept creeping back, louder and more vivid.

He tried to steady himself, gripping the edge of the chair until his knuckles turned white. He closed his eyes, but the darkness only intensified the images flashing through his mind: Yibo's angelic face on their wedding day, his sleepy face in his arms on those messy morning bed, his shy gestures, his being everything in Zhan's life without even letting Zhan know, the quiet warmth of his presence beside Zhan on late nights. The thought of never having those things again... of never holding him, hearing his voice, or feeling the comfort of his touch... it was unbearable.

Am I really going to lose him? The thought clawed at him, raw and unrelenting. The idea of Yibo—his Yibo—slipping away from him was a pain so sharp it felt physical. He clenched his fists until his knuckles turned white. His breaths came in short gasps, his throat constricting as a hollow ache spread through his chest.

Zhan clenched his fists, his nails digging into his palms as he struggled to steady his breathing. His chest felt tight, his heart pounding with a relentless ache. He wasn't a man who prayed, but in that moment, he found himself silently pleading to a higher power he had not even sure existed. "Lord," he whispered under his breath, his voice trembling as tears stung his eyes. "Please, let him be okay. Take anything else— anything from me, just not him. I can't lose him. I can't. Rewrite all his pain to me, and give all my bliss to him. please Lord, save him"

He had always thought he was strong, someone who could handle anything thrown his way. But now, sitting in that empty corridor, Zhan felt fragile, as if the foundation of his entire world was crumbling beneath him. And then, it happened—something Zhan hadn't experienced in years. His vision blurred, and before he could stop it, a single tear slid down his cheek, followed by another. He quickly wiped them away, but it was futile. The dam had broken.

He couldn't recall the last time he cried—not since he was a child, not since he'd matured into the steadfast man who took every problem as a challenge to be solved. Tears had no place in his life. Yet here they were, rolling down his face, unstoppable, raw, and unbidden.

Zhan bent forward, his elbows resting on his knees, his face buried in his trembling hands as the tears continued to fall silently. The sobs never came—only the steady stream of tears that seemed to carry every ounce of fear, frustration, and helplessness he felt.

His gaze dropped to his wedding ring, the small band gleaming dully under the harsh lights. He twisted it absentmindedly. I, Sean Xiao Zhan, take Wang Yibo, to be my husband, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better or for worse, for richer or for poorer, in sickness and in health, I promise to love and cherish you............ the weight the meaning of his own vows pressing down on him.

Another wave of guilt crashed over him as the memory of their last interaction surfaced, how he forced himself on his husband, how he hurt him? What if Zhan's cruelty was the final memory etched into Yibo's mind? He couldn't bear the thought.

Zhan leaned more, resting his elbows on his knees, his hands gripping his hair now. He wanted to scream, wanted to beat the shit out of himself. But at this moment all he could do was wait—wait and hope that the universe wasn't cruel enough to take his husband away from him. 

His lips moved silently, pleading with a force he hadn't felt in years. "I'm sorry," he murmured under his breath, his voice shaking. "I'm so sorry. Please, just... please let me have another chance. I'll do better. I'll never take him for granted again. I promise I will cherish him to my life. Just let him live. Please~~~~" The words hung in the air, desperate and raw.

In that moment, he realized something that struck him to his core. Yibo wasn't just a person in his life. He wasn't just a husband bound to him by vows and paperwork. Yibo was his life. Every breath Zhan took, every beat of his heart—it all revolved around Yibo.

How had he missed it until now? How had he not seen how much his world depended on that shy, gentle man who always put others before himself?

Zhan tilted his head back, staring at the harsh hospital ceiling lights through tear-filled eyes. His voice was barely a whisper, raw and trembling as he spoke aloud to no one. "Please... please, just let him come back to me."

His hand gripped the armrest of the chair tightly as if anchoring himself in reality. For the first time, Zhan felt truly lost, like a man standing at the edge of a precipice, staring into the void. Yibo had become the very ground beneath his feet, and without him, there was nothing but freefall.

Wiping his face roughly, Zhan forced himself to sit up straight, trying to gather himself. But the tears wouldn't stop, and neither would the desperate prayers that echoed in his heart. All he could do now was wait and hope. Hope that Yibo would return to him, that he would get another chance to show how deeply, profoundly he cared.

Because now, Zhan understood: Every breath he took, every beat of his heart, was now etched with Yibo's name—without him, life was a hollow echo, lost in endless darkness bereft of its beloved moon.................his husband...........his Yibo

...To Be Continued

It is all for this week, Do votes and comments so I get motivate to write and come up with multiple chapters again on next weekend. Thank you!!!!

Also, I am reading your comments and I guess readers are too intrigue about what exactly happen to Yibo and what if he lose his memory?......not a bad guess though😅😉😁

Meanwhile, if you looking for fluff and sweetness, read this story of mine.

Book Name: SHOTS [Zhanyi/Yizhan], a collection of multiple short stories🥰🥰