Thread That Binds Us

Chapter-9

Heyo! Update time. Sorry for the lack of interaction. Going through this quarantine all alone is hitting me harder than I've anticipated.😣

I hope you guys are all right wherever you are. I wish your country, your people recover from this crisis soon.❤️

Readers who leave comments and votes are literally the driving force behind this story.❤️ Because when I can't summon up the mental capacity for writing, I read your comments they motivate me like nothing else. Thank you so much.😭

I hope you enjoy the chapter.

Off with the read, then!

------------------------------

Chapter-9

All YiBo wanted was to dig a human sized hole, crawled in and die there. He couldn't believe what he had done last night! Just what the fuck was he thinking? Clearly nothing good, his inner voice mocked. It wasn't like he was that drunk or else he would be lying in a ditch somewhere now, riding that bike.

Maybe that would have been better, he thought. In fact dying would have been thousand times better than turning up here like this. God, the humiliation. He should be thankful he wasn't handed over to the police. Just what the fuck happened to him? He was never prone to drunken brawls. What an impression he had set upon Zhan.

He chanced a glance at the said man, making breakfast at the kitchen while he sat on the couch. He was offered eggs, toasts and coffee and had declined the first, accepted the second. Xiu Ying was coming to pick him up personally and YiBo had to do something in between. Gulping down coffee sounded like the best option.

They hadn't talked must. By much he meant anything, except for answering questions like, where was he, how did he end up here and then uttering stammered apologies. He watched as his ex boyfriend worked on the kitchen island, his back facing YiBo. He mapped that slender profile, apparent even in an oversized plain white t-shirt and a beige pajama bottom. His mind conjuring up another such sight from another time as he looked on.

And then there was a sudden high pitched yell comingfrom upstairs.

"PAPAPAPAPAPAPAPAPAPAPAPAPAPAPAPAAAAAAA!"

Zhan looked up and yelled back, "Papa's down here. Take the slide. Be careful."

YiBo must have looked puzzled as in the next moment Zhan addressed him, "I've installed a slide beside the stairs. Saved me from an early grave when he learned to walk."

And both of their faces froze at that mention.

There were times when Xing had started to sit up, to crawl, his first steps. First words....And YiBo had missed it all, everything. He had missed his first born's, and probably the only one, most precious years. He had been denied to watch his son grow up.

He wanted to be angry but couldn't; couldn't summon even a flicker of heat. As though after last night all his anger had been evaporated into thin air. What remained now was an ocean of hurt.

He looked at that stairs and sure enough, there was indeed a narrow, shiny slide installed there. And the next moment Xing was sliding down it, a grey and white plushie clutched to his chest, face alighted with happiness that only children could manage to get in the mornings.

"PAPAAAAA!"

He hopped and ran towards the kitchen the moment his feet touched the ground, giggling uncontrollably all along. But then his feet bounced to a stop as he spotted YiBo sitting on the couch, staring at him.

Xing blinked rapidly a few times, eyes going rounder, clutched the plushie tighter and higher, then made a beeline for his Papa; eyes never leaving YiBo.