Winter Wind (YiZhan)

53. Stub

He gives one last look at the device, and without a word, turns around to head off to the bathroom.

The moment he shuts the door behind him, he is unable to take a step further. His mind leaves the space and all he can think about is his last moments with Yibo, and the device that has been returned back to him.

More than anything that Yibo could have said or done, this speaks of a finality to them that terrifies the life out of him.

He feels the gradual numbing of his entire body, starting from his chest and now spread out to his abdomen.

However it is only when his trembling hands register, that he lifts them to his gaze.

He clenches them into fists, and focuses on regulating his breathing.

Returning the device is indeed tragic,he tells himself, but it's not the end of the world. We'll get through this somehow.

With this bit of consolation in mind, he heads over to the vanity to grab his toothbrush. He is quite unwilling to look at himself in the mirror, because he is wary of the image that will be reflected back at him.

This brings to mind Yibo's words earlier of just how tired he'd looked. Thanks to Yibo, he believes that his body has now fully rested, however his mind continues to feel groggy with disbelief, and a brewing despair.

Somehow, he manages to push all of these away and begins to brush his teeth. He eventually lifts his gaze to the mirror and the reflection that stares back at him is one of mental exhaustion, and trepidation. His eyes are slightly agape at the reminder of the thousand pound gorilla sitting on Li Ping's counter, but then his gaze soon catches something else.

In a corner of his neck, although partly covered by the hood of his sweat shirt, is a small bruise. His free hand rises to pull the fabric down, and he is able to get a good look at the purplish mark on his skin.

A little further down and on the opposite side, he sees yet another bruise, and then as he pulls the fabric even further down, he sees another smack in the middle of his chest. Rinsing his mouth, he puts the brush aside and then takes off his hoodie to see the extent of the damage that Yibo had left on him.

He feels a hard pummel into his chest once again as he takes in the bruises of different sizes and intensity, spread out across his torso. For once, he is grateful that he doesn't have any pending projects that would require his immediate appearance before the public, however, he cannot help but fear that these will haunt, rather than please him in the weeks to come.

He softly runs a hand across the marks, his touch especially lingering on the ones that dissappear into the waist band of his pants. All of the memories come flooding back to him of heavenand of Yibo, and of how he had slept away his chance to say a proper goodbye to him.

Fury begins to burn in the pit of his stomach at everything and nothing in particular, so he moves away from the sink and heads into the shower stall.

In there, he stands away from the warm cascade reluctant to touch himself, and especially reluctant to wash away Yibo's scent from his body.

He wishes more than anything in the world that Yibo were here with him, and at the thought that this will probably never be the case, he feels his stomach twist with an indescribable pain.

He gives in now to bending over, one hand flattened against the tiled wall to keep him standing until eventually, the slight tremors racking him from head to toe subside.

He moves under the water then, as it dawns on him that a new kind of trouble is looming or perhaps it is already here by his side. However, he refuses to acknowledge it because he just cannot believe or accept that things between him and Yibo are now truly over.