In Between Us || Zhanyi

The room was dimly lit, the soft hum of the medical equipment the only sound. Zhan's eyes immediately fell on Yibo, lying motionless on the hospital bed. The fluorescent lights of the room cast a pale glow on Yibo's pale skin, his slender frame seemingly dwarfed by the oversized hospital gown. 

His pale face was framed by messy strands of dark hair, his delicate features almost ethereal under the soft light. An IV line was attached to his arm, the steady drip of fluid the only sound besides the rhythmic hum of the monitors. A thin blanket covered him up to his waist, and the faint rise and fall of his chest was the only sign of life.

Zhan gasped, his heart twisted painfully at the sight, guilt washing over him in waves. He had always seen Yibo as quiet but strong, someone who carried himself with dignity even in silence. Now, seeing him like this, so fragile, Zhan felt his chest tighten painfully.

Zhan stepped closer, his footsteps careful, almost hesitant. As he reached the side of the bed, he lowered himself onto the chair nearby, his gaze fixed on Yibo's face. For a moment, he couldn't move, couldn't speak, couldn't do anything but stare.

The weight of the day, the fear, the guilt—it all crashed down on him like a tidal wave. The strong, composed man who had always faced every challenge with unshakable resolve now felt small, helpless, and utterly lost.

Zhan's gaze watery as reached out, his hand trembling as he gently brushed a strand of hair away from Yibo's forehead. His fingers lingered there for a moment before slowly, almost hesitantly, he reached for the hand without the IV, lay bare atop the blanket, still and pale. As his fingers closed around it, he was struck by how cold it felt—far too cold. It sent a chill straight to his core.

His hand's so cold

Zhan instinctively covered Yibo's hand with both of his, enveloping it in his warmth. His thumbs gently stroked over Yibo's knuckles, as though the small motion could coax some warmth back into him—or perhaps comfort himself.

[A/N: To highlight the depth of Zhan's voice his words are in bold, here Zhan is not screaming but his voice was too hoarse to be loud]

"Hey~~~!!" Zhan tried to sound steady, firm, as if speaking aloud could make the words more real. He brought it close to his face. "You scared me, you know" he admitted, his voice cracking. "I thought—" His voice caught, and he swallowed hard before forcing a weak chuckle. "No. Doesn't matter what I thought. You're here. That's what matters."

"The doctor says you're stable." His thumb traced gentle circles over her knuckles. "He said you're absolutely fine. That you're strong—just a little malnourished. Nothing that can't be fixed." Zhan's voice started getting heavy again.

His thumb kept tracing slow, soothing circles over Yibo's skin, but his lips trembled as he pressed them gently against Yibo's knuckles. His breath was warm, uneven, brushing over the back of Yibo's hand as he spoke again, softer now. "So why do you look like this?" The question was almost a whisper, breaking under the weight of his emotions. "Why do you look like you've been suffering all alone?"

The words felt strange coming out of his mouth, as if he were admitting something he hadn't even realized himself. But sitting here, seeing Yibo like this, he couldn't deny it anymore. Yibo wasn't just his husband on paper or someone he was obligated to care for. He was everything.

Zhan exhaled shakily, his hold tightening as if afraid Yibo might slip away even now. He swallowed hard, closing his eyes, stopping those tears which forming so easily today, he rested his forehead against their joined hands. The pulse under Yibo's skin against his own was proof—proof that he was here, that he was alive. But the thought of how close he had come to losing him made Zhan's heart twist painfully in his chest.

Zhan pressed another soft kiss to Yibo's knuckles, his lips lingering there as his tears fell silently. The room seemed to shrink around him, and in that moment, there was nothing else—no hospital, no noise, no world. Just Yibo's hand in his, and the desperate hope that Yibo would open his eyes and come back to him.

His grip on Yibo's hand tightened, desperation bleeding into the touch. "I know it's my fault. I should've seen it. I should've noticed. But I didn't—I didn't realize how much you were struggling." His lips brushed over Yibo's fingers once more, as if that could somehow make up for his negligence. "I should have taken better care of you. I should have been a better husband."

A deep breath.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, the words raw and unguarded. "I am sorry to fail you" Zhan whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "Sorry to take so long to understand that You're... my life. I didn't realize it before, but now... now I can't imagine a world without you in it. So please..." He squeezed Yibo's hand gently, his tears falling freely now. "Please come back to me."

"I promise, I won't fail you again, Yibo." His fingers curled protectively around Yibo's, grounding himself in that fragile connection. "From now on, I'll do everything—everything—to protect you. Just give me another chance...please~~~~...come back Bo."

Silence answered him.

His gaze flickered to Yibo's face, searching for the slightest sign that he could hear him—that Yibo knew he was with him. But Yibo remained still, lost in whatever dreamless void the sedative held him in.

A lump formed in Zhan's throat, memories flashing behind his eyes—the panic when he wheeled Yibo, the desperate need to believe he would come back to him, whole and safe. And now when he had, still wasn't here yet. Not fully.

Zhan squeezed Yibo's hand, grounding himself in his warmth. "Don't worry, I am not in a hurry, the doctor said you need rest so you will be out for a while. That is okay.........I'll wait," he murmured, leaning forward until his forehead touched Yibo's forehead. "Take your time. I'll be right here for you."

Zhan pressed a soft kiss on Yibo's forehead before settling on the chair again. The only sound in the room was the steady beep of the monitors, but Zhan didn't move. He stayed there, forehead pressed to their joint hands, his heart silently pleading for him to wake up....... "Just don't take too long, okay? I don't know how to do this without you.".....he whispered to himself

...TO BE CONTINUED