In Between Us || Zhanyi

Untitled Part 20

He took slow bites, each one accompanied by the realization, still processing. The taste of the food felt much better than anything that he ate in last days. It wasn't the taste but Yibo's care and warmth that made the food liking to Zhan's tastebuds. 

As he ate, Zhan couldn't help but think about Yibo. His husband, who barely said much, just how deeply he knew him. It wasn't something grand or extravagant. It was small, subtle, and yet it spoke volumes. Yibo had noticed, without being told. Yibo had understood, without being explained. Zhan didn't have to ask for anything—his husband had sensed it. And without a word, he had provided exactly what Zhan needed—a warm meal and a remedy for his pain.

The meal, the medicine, the simple instructions—it was Yibo's way of caring, without making a fuss, without expecting anything in return. Zhan's chest tightened as he continued to eat, each bite making him painfully aware of how little he had appreciated these gestures before. Yibo had always taken care of him, in ways that Zhan hadn't even noticed. 

As he placed the empty box to the side, Zhan picked up the small pouch and opened it. Inside was a set of tablets, neatly labeled. His fingers brushed against them gently as he set them down on his desk.

'Yibo thought of everything' Zhan realized, Yibo understood him in ways maybe he himself not aware of, Yibo understood him in ways how a husband should understand his husband.

But what about him?

He thought he knew Yibo—thought he had taken the role of provider, offering stability and care. But now, in the silence of his cabin, he realized----What did he know about Yibo? What his understanding regarding his husband? When was the last time he'd asked Yibo if he was okay? When was the last time he'd noticed anything about him at all? When was the last time Yibo had been unwell and he had taken care of him? What were his husband's favorite foods, color-----his likes, his dislikes? Zhan couldn't remember. He had no idea if Yibo was ever struggling or thriving. 

The only knowledge he had about Yibo was, Who Yibo as an individual for the world-----He knew Yibo as an excellent student, as the brilliant mind that always excelled in his classes. A great human being who was strong, independent and respectful. But as his husband? Zhan knew little beyond the surface. The details blurred in Zhan's mind, and he felt the sharp pang of self-reproach. He knew Yibo's academic schedule, his accolades, but as his husband, he had missed the everyday nuances.

The realization crept over Zhan, tightening around his chest. All this time, he had believed he was the caretaker, the provider, the one who managed everything. But now, with the empty takeout box and the small pouch of medicine lying before him, the truth settled in. It hadn't been him taking care of Yibo; it had been Yibo quietly looking out for him, all along.

As he leaned back in his chair, guilt churned in Zhan's stomach, more potent than the headache that had plagued him all morning. It hit him like a bitter truth he couldn't ignore: he had never fully shifted from his role as Professor Xiao to being Yibo's husband Xiao Zhan or maybe only Zhan.

Yibo was no longer simply his student but his partner, someone who had adapted, without complaint, to play the part of both a husband and a diligent student. And Zhan? He had stayed in his professor's shoes, treating Yibo with a distant care that fell far short of the intimacy marriage demanded, providing for Yibo only in a functional way—detached, from the emotional space of warmth as husband Yibo deserved.