In Between Us || Zhanyi

"Fix?" A voice filled with mockery was heard, making Zhan spun open his eyes, his own reflection was leaning lazily on a nearby wall with a creepy crook smile.

"And what exactly do you think you can fix after what you did today?"

Zhan's determination to fix things began to waver as the mocking voice rose in the recesses of his mind, cold and unrelenting. The accusation hit like a dagger. He clenched his fists, trying not to focus the reflection, he knew that was just an illusion. "I'll explain everything," he muttered to himself, his tone desperate. "I was angry. I didn't mean to hurt him. I'll apologize. I'll make it right."

But the voice wouldn't be silenced. It grew darker, sharper, seeping into the cracks of his composure. The voice as if scoffed, Zhan could feel the voice steeping near him, he felt the next whisper just behind his ear.

"Angry? Sorry? And you think these EXCUSES are enough to justify that YOU FORCED him today" the voice darker, more deeper "just like you have done EVERY OTHER TIME."

Zhan froze. His breathing hitched, his chest constricting as if the walls of the room were closing in on him. "No," he whispered, shaking his head violently. "That's not true. I didn't—"

"Didn't what? Force him? Hurt him? TAKEN WHAT WASN'T GIVEN?"

The voice turned venomous, each word slicing through Zhan's fragile defences. "Professor is so naïve, never heard the word..............marital R*PE"

The words reverberated through his mind, and Zhan felt the ground beneath him crumble. His hands trembled, his nails digging into his palms as a flood of memories surged forward, unbidden and merciless.

Every touch. Every kiss. Every moment of intimacy with Yibo. He had always seen them as sacred, their union as something pure, an expression of surrender that transcended words. But now, through the lens of the voice's accusations, those same moments twisted into something unrecognizable.

"Was it choice, or was it power? Did he consent, or did he surrender because he had no other choice?"

"NO!!!!" A vision flashed before him: Yibo's trembling frame, his tear-streaked face turned away.

The memory hit Zhan like a thunderbolt. He gripped the edges of the desk, gasping for air as his world tilted off its axis. He used to consider intimacy as marital duty, but he would not deny.....with Yibo every moment he spent was not just out of duty. There was more, something deep, something really peaceful.......beyond just the need of body.

Zhan's nails scraped against the wood of the desk as he tried to rationalize, to push the voice away. "No," he whispered hoarsely. "Those were our moments. They were sacred. He... he wanted them. He wanted me."

"Did he? Did he ever ask you in words?"

Zhan's mind was mess...........No! Yibo never spoke verbally. Yibo had never been one to verbalize his desires or needs, especially when it came to intimacy. It was always in his actions—subtle, unspoken cues that Zhan had taken for granted. At night, Yibo would quietly undress, slipping into bed and pressing closer to Zhan, a silent invitation that Zhan had always interpreted as consent, even desire. Zhan, in turn, had responded, believing it was what Yibo wanted. He never stopped to question the deeper motives behind Yibo's actions, never thought to ask if there was more to his silence than he realized.