"Thank you," said the deep voice to the old lady who haunted Zhan's sleep for so many nights. The old woman left them. Yibo walked over to where Zhan was sitting. He couldn't even move. He frantically released his breath when he felt his chest tighten. He blinked. Expecting the figure in front of him to fade away any moment.
But Yibo remained in front of him and approached him. HIs heart began to race. And he knew he was shaking, Yibo reached his hand and Yibo pulled him upright.
For a long moment, they just stood there staring at each other. Hungry eyes struggling to gain the most ground.
Zhan recovered first. "W-why are you here?" he asked. He noticed the stubble growth on Yibo's face. He'd lost weight too. The pain of seeing Yibo again cut through him. It was as if a bone had blocked his chest. "I—I mean, how did you find me here?"
Yibo didn't answer immediately, he kept staring at Zhan's face as if searching for a part that had been lost or changed. His eyebrows met slightly, and a hand rose towards Zhan's cheek. Trying to remove the white stain on Zhan's but he can't remove it.
"Paint," Yibo said, a little bit confused. "And there's paint all over your hair too." Yibo raised his hand that he still holding. There are more paint stains. Yibo's fingers felt his palm. "Calluses..." Yibo shook his head and asked in a voice filled with anguish. "What have you been doing, Zhan?"
Zhan's mouth quivered in what he thought was a smile. "I-I painted the fence at the... at the hut." His eyes hungrily searched Yibo's face. Just like he does to him.
"You were painting picket fences?" Yibo said unbelievingly. Then he groaned emotionally and gathered Zhan close against him. Yibo hugged him so tightly that it almost took his breath away.
Zhan closed his eyes. He wanted to drown himself in the heat coming from Yibo's body. That's it is all true. That this was not the result of his imagination brought with great sadness and longing. And when Yibo claimed his lips, Zhan sobbed. Yibo quickly released his lips and lifted his face, cupping his face with his hands."Oh, God, don't cry, sweetheart. Please don't cry." Yibo's voice filled with agony as he wiped Zhan's tears with his fingers.
And Zhan, despite himself was surprised to see that there were mists in Yibo's eyes too. Did Yibo miss him too? Just as he missed Yibo?
His hand reached Yibo's face, touching the growth of stubbles that darkened Yibo's face. "How long has it been since you last shaved?" Zhan asked softly, loving Yibo so much with all his heart and soul.
Yibo held his palms and kissed them alternately. "It doesn't matter," Yibo whispered and said in a broken voice. "I'd give half of my life if I am to be spared from the agony of the last three months, Zhan." Then Yibo was kissing his temple... his hair... the tip of his nose. "I will never ever let you go again."
"Yibo..."
"I do love you, Zhan."
Zhan stiffened. "W-what did you say?" Released from Yibo's embrace and stared at him.
"I love you. I love you so," Yibo repeated, then frowned at the sudden flash of anger in Zhan's eyes.
"You love me? Why? Because I'm-was a virgin?" Zhan asked bitterly. "Because your assumptions about me are wrong?"
Yibo put his finger under Zhan's chin and raised his lovely face to him. "One certainly doesn't love because of that, my beloved," Yibo said softly. "Love grows from within one's heart. And I have loved you even when I believed you to be a vamp and a tramp. My pride kept me from recognizing my own feelings."
Zhan was speechless. He didn't know what to answer. Sincerity burned in those blue eyes. Hope started to spring from his heart.
Yibo pulled Zhan back in his arms. "I guess I started loving you when I saw you on TV hounded by media. On the surface, I hated you. But deep inside I wanted to protect you from those hounds. Or perhaps it started on the night of Chengpeng's party. Or not that's why I was watching you while you lay unconscious on the bed in my cabin. It doesn't matter when it happened. What matters is I love you.
