The hotel room was small. Cheap. The kind of place where no one asked questions. Yibo sat by the window, rolling a cigarette between his fingers. He didn’t smoke. Never had.
But tonight, he thought about it.
His phone screen lit up again. Zhan’s name. Or rather, the absence of it. Just a number now.
No answer. Again.
The city outside was quiet, but his mind wasn’t. It kept playing the same memories, his words, sharp like broken glass. The way Zhan flinched, the way he cried, the way Yibo didn’t stop.
He pressed his forehead against the window. His breath fogged the glass.
He had ruined everything.
But it wasn’t over. Not yet.
He would fix it. He had to.
--------
Zhan sat on the bed, a book open in his lap. He wasn’t reading. Just staring at the words, letting them blur together.
The baby stirred beside him.
A soft whimper. Then a cry.
Zhan put the book down, lifting the tiny, warm body into his arms. The crying stopped almost instantly.
Little hands, clutching his shirt. A small mouth, searching.
Zhan adjusted his shirt and let the baby latch on. The warmth, the quiet drinking sounds—it should have been comforting.
But his mind was somewhere else.
His phone had vibrated earlier. He didn’t need to check. He knew who it was.
He didn’t answer.
He wouldn’t.
The baby’s tiny fingers curled around his own. Zhan exhaled, pressing a kiss to the soft little head.
“I won’t let anyone hurt you,” he whispered. “Not even him.”
---------------
Mrs. Xiao stood at the doorway, her arms crossed. Yibo didn’t expect warmth, but the cold finality in her voice still stung.
“I’m sorry, son-in-law. I can’t let you in.”
Son-in-law. A mockery. A reminder.
Yibo nodded, stuffing his hands into his jacket pockets. “I understand.”
No, he didn’t.
But arguing wouldn’t change anything.
The door shut in his face.
Yibo didn’t leave. He sat on the pavement outside Zhan’s house, leaning against the wall. The day passed. Evening came.
No one spoke to him.
No one let him in.
But he stayed.
-------------
By the third day, he set up a tent outside the gate. If they wouldn’t let him in, he would stay here. If Zhan refused to see him, he would make sure he was seen.
Neighbors whispered. Some laughed. Some pitied.
Zhan ignored it all.
Ignored him.
Every morning, when Zhan left for a walk, Yibo followed. Not too close. Not too far.
Just enough to be noticed.
YOU ARE READING
Please choose me ( Yizhan )
FanfictionI'm a middle child , I am not someone's option let alone someone's choice . I was only 18 and that happened to me . Will I be able to be someone's first choice ? . I'm okay with being an option too . At least an option to someone. Let's see who'...
