Work Text:
Eyes Wide Open
The smell of coffee wafted through the air as rain poured down restlessly on the streets.
With firm, steady hands, Yibo worked on fixing cups after cups of either too sweet or too bland drinks. He was never really a fan of caffeine; the taste made his tongue feel like lead.
But even if it wasn’t his personal choice of beverage — being a man who was devoted to green tea — he didn’t entirely hate making them. Coffee was an all too familiar friend at this point. It was something Yibo had learned to love despite never wanting it for himself, grew accustomed to the smell that now felt like a blanket of comfort around him whenever he came to work. Being a barista didn’t feel like a chore anymore, and these days, Yibo could say he even looked forward to this part-time job he managed to get for himself while finishing his major in Dance. It worked as an escape from all the fast and pristine movements, helping to centre himself back to the real world. Dancing made him forget he existed from time to time, and the smell of coffee helped him come back to reality.
The coffee shop Yibo worked at was small and cosy, slotted right between a busy street in Beijing, close to where he lived. The red brick walls looked rather unfitting besides the modern, slick Skyliners, but to the regulars who frequented the little shop, it felt like home. With old picture frames on walls and wooden chairs, the place looked to be ripped out from a time when things were more simple, and people who came in for a cup kept coming back for the atmosphere the place created. The little cafe owner — Mrs Cheng — was an old lady in her seventies — who reminded Yibo greatly of his nǎi nai — who always spoke with wistfulness in her eyes whenever she had time to sit with Yibo.
“Time flies when you least expect it to, Yi-bao.” she had once told him. “ It’s like sand in your hand; the more tightly you hold on to it, the faster it escapes from you. The best thing to do is to put it in a jar and store it.”
“The sand?” Yibo had asked, confused.
“Time, sūnzi.” she had smiled. “Time holds all your memories. So, you must store it. Keep it safe in your heart, even after it leaves you.”
“Just like you stored it inside this cafe?”
She agreed, “Just like I stored inside this cafe.”
So Yibo liked his part-time job in the little red-bricked cafe named Huíyì. It reminded him of home and anchored him to reality. It kept him safe. It kept him sane. And he also liked rainy days when the cafe only had a handful of customers, making it easier for him to enjoy the soothing quiet surroundings.
While he worked, a voice, smooth as honey, caught him unguarded when it reached his ears. And when Yibo looked up to greet the new customer with practised professionality, the smile that graced him felt like thunders that struck tall buildings; electrifying yet, frighteningly beautiful.
"Hi," the voice greeted him. And with every syllable, Yibo felt the ground beneath him shake. As if at that moment, the whole world was readjusting right under his feet; so that he could take in the angel who had descended right in front of him.
Yibo never knew how rain-soaked hair could suit a person so well, never knew how the colour brown could be this regal in someone’s eyes. Never knew how a mole under someone’s lips could inspire poetries Yibo never bothered reading.
"H-hi.." Yibo whispered back, awestruck. It was as if he spoke too loud; the illusion of a man would vanish in front of him, and watched the stranger smile.
"Can I get a hazelnut cappuccino?" the angel voiced, while running a hand through his soaked black hair, "sorry for getting your floors all wet. I got soaked," he added, looking sheepish.
He wore a dark blue shirt tucked delicately inside his black jeans, highlighting the long, long legs that stretched for miles. His lightly tanned skin had a faint hint of blush on them, no doubt because of the rain he had walked through.
"Uhh, it's -it's alright." face flushed under the warm light, Yibo tried to wave it off, tearing off his gazel. "and sure. Coming right up," he said as he turned around, facing away from the stranger with difficulty.
He could feel the eyes of the man on his back while Yibo worked, and he could feel his heart stutter at the idea of being watched.
"It's a lovely cafe you got here," the man hummed in approval from behind him, easy and simple, and Yibo felt a slight smile tug at his lips despite his nervousness.
“Thank you, nǎi nai worked hard to make the place cosy,” Yibo replied while working.
“Ahh! She must be a woman of taste then. The interior really reminds me of home .“ Yibo turned to find the man looking at the decor fondly, the warm yellow lights of the cafe illuminating his skin in a golden hue.
He reminded Yibo of a sunset.
“It must be fate that I found it today,” he said as his eyes focused on Yibo again.
“It must be.” Yibo agreed with a hitch in his breath. “Welcome home, then,” he said while handing over the cup and watched the angel break into a blinding smile that could make supernovas look faint.
“ Welcome home, indeed.” the man replied, with no trace of hesitation in his voice.
The angel was called Xiao Zhan.
Yibo had learned as much when the man came back on a busy shift on Monday, ordering the same coffee with the same devastating smile. Yibo had rushed to ask him his name, half because not to lose his order in between the sea of coffee and half because he wanted to store it in his brain.
Xiao Zhan had given a pleasing grin when Yibo tested the name on his mouth, and Yibo had flushed.
“You weren’t here on Friday,” the man had commented as he paid for his cup.
And Yibo only had enough time to shout out an “I work part-time.” before rushing away, his head filled with unmade coffees, devastating smiles, and the knowledge that Xiao Zhan had looked for him.
Yibo didn’t get the chance to tell Xiao Zhan his name until they met for the fourth time when the cafe was less crowded; Yibo being free of any orders.
“Wang Yibo,” he had stumbled through his words, knowing full well that his name was written clearly on the badge on his chest. But Xiao Zhan had brightened up nonetheless, offering him a handshake that made Yibo’s hands quiver.
Yibo also learned that Xiao Zhan was a designer, half because he told him, half because Yibo rarely saw the man without his iPad, always scribbling away one thing or the other while sitting on a table beside the window.
“What do you draw?” Yibo asked him once while serving him his same blend of hazelnut coffee.
“Brand logos, interiors, icons, trees, animals, people,” Xiao Zhan had gone on and on, “and when I don’t have work, things I find pretty,” he had said, looking up at Yibo.
“Xiao laoshi is talented!” Yibo had sputtered out in a rush, earning an indigent huff from the man.
“Not as talented as Wang laoshi, though,” he had countered, “Barista extraordinaire, motorbike racer and dancer? We mortals can’t even compare! ” making Yibo grin despite the flush on his face.
“Shall I hire you to design my brand once I’m famous then?” Yibo had asked as a joke.
“Don’t even dare to pick someone else, Bo-di.” Xiao Zhan had replied with resolute.
Xiao Zhan kept on coming back after that.
Whether Yibo was on closing shifts or morning shifts, Xiao Zhan never failed to drop by, even for an hour or a minute. And it would be a lie if Yibo said seeing him walk through those glass doors didn’t put a smile on Yibo’s face every single time. His presence seemed to brighten up the cafe, making the yellow light glow brighter, made the regulars seem quieter. Xiao Zhan even managed to warm his way to Mrs Cheng, completely charming the woman with his pristine manners and compliments that made Yibo roll his eyes from time to time.
As days passed, things between them had become more of a habit than routine. Nowadays, whenever Xiao Zhan was in, Yibo found himself making time to talk to him, be it a small hello or a conversation that lasted hours. Sometimes, when the cafe was empty, Yibo would talk to Xiao Zhan about his dance classes, bike racing, and university. In return, Xiao Zhan would confide him with stories about his clients or current projects.
When Xiao Zhan found out about Yibo’s distaste for the hot beverage he prepared every day; he laughed at Yibo before asking why Yibo chose to work at a cafe of all places, making Yibo talk more than he ever had with anyone. He found himself explaining why he decided to get a job here, how the place anchored him, how Mrs Cheng reminded him of his nǎi nai, who had passed away when Yibo was only thirteen. And as Yibo talked, he saw the way Xiao Zhan looked at him; fond and sweet, like Yibo was something precious to be looked at.
Xiao Zhan himself talked like a child. Even if the man was six years older than Yibo — which was rather shocking since he looked so young —, with grand hand gestures and open expressions, Xiao Zhan’s conversations always felt like s story. Yibo couldn’t help but look at him.
And Yibo knew.
He could tell the telltale sign of a crush when he saw one. Could feel it from the way his heart started pounding every time he saw Xiao Zhan smile, could sense it from the numbness of his feet every time Xiao Zhan called him by his name. And from the way Xiao Zhan looked at him, Yibo knew his feelings were not wholly unrequited. They had been at this for a month now, and Yibo never failed to notice how Xiao Zhan only visited the cafe on the days Yibo worked. Or how the touch of his hand always lingered when he took the coffee from Yibo’s hand. It was written in the way Xiao Zhan talked, how he laughed just a little bit louder around him, how he would blush just a little whenever Yibo called him ‘Zhan-ge,’ and it made Yibo’s head spin, his blood spike.
But no matter how reckless the feeling made him want to be, Yibo was still scared of it.
Because the way Yibo liked someone was considered different and delusional to most.
In a world where physical intimacy was seen as the pillar of affection, Yibo stood on the opposite end of the bridge, looking out but never understanding why it mattered. Sex never came to mind when he thought of being with someone; a curve of someone’s body never spiked a heat of arousal in him. He never dreamed of making out with someone, never craved to touch and be touched. He just never wanted it, but he knew pretty well how others always did.
Yibo identified as an asexual, a person who never felt physical attraction. Where a kiss on the cheek or a hug from behind was something Yibo carved from Xiao Zhan, he knew that his Zhan-ge could easily yearn for something more from him. And he wasn’t naive enough to believe that just because Xiao Zhan smiled at him like Yibo was the only thing that mattered, he would understand the way Yibo loved. Yibo faced the burn of rejection too many times to hope for something so unrealistic.
And like the rest of the people Yibo dated in the past, Yibo was sure that Xiao Zhan wouldn’t want anything to do with someone so dull.
So Yibo tried his best to keep his walls up, even though everything inside of him crumbled every time Xiao Zhan looked at him.
On a quiet night in March, the sky of Beijing was leaking once more.
The sound of soft jazz floated in the air as Yibo swiped off the counter one last time, giving it a thorough cleansing before he left. The cafe was empty, Yibo having flipped the sign an hour ago, and all there was left to do was lock the place for the night and head home.
But with a frown that sat on his face like a brick, Yibo kept staring at the blurred window on his side, right where Xiao Zhan always sat when he dropped by.
Yibo didn’t realise when things had taken such a drastic turn for him. It was one thing to have a crush on someone who looked otherworldly half of the time, but it was entirely another thing to get used to their existence, so much that in their absence, home felt like nothing but a four-walled building, empty and pointless. All because Xiao Zhan hadn’t shown up at the cafe just once.
And it scared Yibo how much he missed seeing his face. The very walls Yibo came to call home now looked bare; the sound of jazz he liked so much now felt short to his ears. He didn’t know since when he had started to think of Xiao Zhan's laughter as music, his voice as stories and sonnets. Yibo didn’t know since when the definition of home changed from just ' Huíyì' to ' Huíyì and Zhan-ge.'
It was just one day. Yibo told himself over and over while changing into his regular clothes.
Zhan-ge is a busy man. He kept repeating as he headed towards the door.
He shouldn’t be wasting his free time on me anyway. He insisted while turning the lock of the door.
It's for the best. Opening his umbrella, Yibo started to walk home.
He wondered what Xiao Zhan was doing. He was possibly bent over the computer right now if there was anything to go by the stories of late-night inspiration crisis he whined about to Yibo.
Maybe, he was stuck with a project.
Perhaps he was out with his friends.
Perhaps, he went home to visit his parents and his little fluffy cat.
Maybe, he went on a date. Yibo thought with a bitter smile.
He was so lost in his head that it took him a while to hear the sound of water splashing behind him. But when he did, Yibo stopped in his tracks.
Someone was running towards him, their footsteps on the wet sidewalks ringing loud in the rain.
Alert and ready, Yibo turned around to face the source of it, his brain already conjuring up worst-case scenarios from robbers to serial killers, only to be left stunned at the scene before him.
"Wa–Wang Yibo!"
Drenched from head to toe, Xiao Zhan came to a stop a few feet away from him, breath leaving him in a rush as he heaved.
"Zhan-ge?! What the —" Yibo exclaimed in shock, his feet moving on their own accord towards the man, quickly taking him under his umbrella.
"What are — are you insane!?" he implored, causing the man in front of him to chuckle despite his condition.
"H-hi," Xiao Zhan smiled happily at Yibo, running a hand through his hair just out of a nervous habit Yibo knew Xiao Zhan had.
They were standing so close. Yibo could make out the water droplets sitting on his eyelashes, could see all those tiny freckles on top of his nose. Even while rumpled, he was the most beautiful thing Yibo had ever seen.
"Hi yourself! What the hell? What're you doing running in the rain like this ?!" Yibo huffed. His hand reached out to wipe the waters from Xiao Zhan's cheeks without thinking, and Yibo watched, transfixed, how a blush bloomed on Xiao Zhan's face when his hand touched his skin.
"You're all wet," he stated, stupefied at his impulsive action.
But Xiao Zhan just smiled. "I wanted to see you. I knew you were on night duty today but, work got in the way and – I didn’t even look at the time – and then suddenly it was bloody ten-thirty, so I….. ran ." he trailed off, looking down.
"You... ran... to....see me," Yibo said, dumbly.
"I ran to see you." Xiao Zhan agreed without a beat.
"What about your umbrella?" Yibo struggled to speak.
Xiao Zhan eyed him in confusion. "I'm sorry, my....my what?"
"Your umbrella Zhan-ge, it’s pouring," Yibo said incestuously.
"Ohh…." Xiao Zhan looked around, smiled sheepishly before breaking into a pout. "I just told you I ran to see you, and you're asking about my umbrella. So cruel, Bo-di!" he huffed, hitting Yibo lightly on his arm.
Heart going feral in his chest, Yibo looked at Xiao Zhan in disbelief before letting out a sigh.
"What are we doing, Zhan-ge?" he mumbled, eyes trained to the ground, afraid of looking up.
He could feel the inhale of breath from the man in front of him. "Have I not been obvious enough, didi?" Xiao Zhan asked softly, and Yibo's eyes snapped back at him.
"But I – wha —"
Xiao Zhan chuckled. "Wang Yibo ." he spoke over him, sounding exasperatedly fond, "I just ran through a storm to see you."
And Yibo could feel a flush go down his face.
"So just, please. Date me. Go out with me. Wang Yibo, please go out with me ." he said with a smile, and Yibo reared back in surprise.
The rain fell around them like an endless waterfall. In the middle of it, Wang Yibo stood, a hand gripped tightly around the umbrella, watching Xiao Zhan, who waited for his answer while every ounce of Yibo's self-control crumbled to the ground.
"I —" Yibo swallowed, voice thickening with unconstrained emotions, heart beating a mile, "y-yes. I – okay."
The smile that greeted him in answer felt like a sunrise, bright yet soft to the eyes, and Yibo watched Xiao Zhan glow under the streetlight in wonder.
"Gosh! That was nerve-wracking ." Xiao Zhan huffed humorously, "Do you know how long I've been trying to ask you, I —" a giggle escaped him this time, and it was hard not to smile with him, hard not to be happy.
They laughed until Xiao Zhan's huff of breaths became shivers, and Yibo eyed him disapprovingly.
"You'll catch a cold," he stated.
Xiao Zhan tried to wave him off, and Yibo noticed how his skin had pruned, "Ohh, I'll be fine, Bo-di, it's just rai —"
"C-can I walk you home?" Yibo blurted before he could stop himself.
The answering smile Xiao Zhan gave him made the world blur.
They went on a date the following Tuesday.
On a fine afternoon, Xiao Zhan treated Yibo to lunch in a restaurant beside Hai River, and Yibo brought out his motorbike so they could ride around the city right after. Coursing through the highway towards the countrysides, they spent the evening close to a canola field they came across on their way, enjoying the sunset in each others company.
It was the most fun Yibo had in a while, and with Xiao Zhan beside him, everything felt perfect.
With beer that warmed their bellies and conversation that warmed their hearts, Xiao Zhan laughed and laughed whenever Yibo spoke, and Yibo wished he could stop time and reply this day over and over again. He never knew how a person could be this beautiful just by existing, didn’t know how someone's laugh could be this addicting. Yibo could watch Xiao Zhan talk forever. And the knowledge of how easily he could lose this terrified him.
So when the daylight fainted and night came to a close, Yibo felt relucent to let go, even if he knew it was getting late.
And that was when Xiao Zhan spoke.
"You want to come over?" he asked in a soft tone, and Yibo's throat went dry with panic and remorse.
He wanted to, god he wanted to.
"I–I don't — "
" Bo-di ." Xiao Zhan stopped him. "I'm asking you more as a friend than anything. Today was great. And I might sound mighty selfish saying this but, I don’t want it to end." Xiao Zhan said with a smile. "Come Over? We can just watch a movie and call it a night. I want to spend more time with you."
Yibo didn’t know how he was supposed to deny the man.
The ride back to Xiao Zhan's flat was quiet. Yibo's heart hammered in his chest while he drove, feeling the warm press of Xiao Zhan's body behind him, his mind running a mile. Xiao Zhan felt comfortable behind his bike, like he belonged on that seat, holding Yibo tightly on his shoulder as they zoomed through highways like he wasn’t scared at all, while Yibo could feel the nerves sing on his fingers.
Time seemed to slow down when they finally stopped in front of Xiao Zhan’s building. And with shaking steps, Yibo walked with him towards the entrance hall.
Xiao Zhan offered him a small smile while they stood for the lift to come down.
And with his heart high on his throat, Yibo tried to smile back.
Xiao Zhan's flat was every bit like the man himself.
Yibo walked inside only to be greeted with a pristine yet colourful interior, wooden beams and walls filled with photographs of things and people who were undoubtedly close to Xiao Zhan's heart. Books and torn papers littered on the living room table and Yibo eyed Xiao Zhan's iPad that laid on the couch fondly. It had become as much of an addition to his life as Zhan-ge himself.
"Well, this is it. Welcome to my humble abode," Xiao Zhan grinned, standing in the middle of it all, and Yibo couldn’t help but smile at him.
"It's not much but —"
"Don’t say that," Yibo spoke up. "Everything is like you, in here...It's…, perfect," he said with a soft smile and saw Xiao Xhan flush under his praise.
"Always the flatterer, this didi," Xiao Zhan mumbled under his breath. "I'll bring you a change of clothes so you could freshen up. Make yourself at home," he said before heading towards a door to the side.
That must be his bedroom. Yibo thought.
Trying to ignore his beating heart, Yibo started to look around, poking at the pictures on the wall, grinning when he spotted Xiao Zhan's young face in most of the frames.
"There you go, bo-di!" Xiao Zhan said, dropping the clothes on the couch when he came back, "already snooping, I see," he said, eying Yibo with a pleased grin, "Bathroom's that way." he said, pointing at a door, and Yibo nodded, thanking him for the cloths and walking towards it.
The bathroom was small and neat like the flat, and Yibo leaned on the tiled walls, finally letting out the shuddering breath he had been holding in. He splashed water on his face and looked at his reddened reflection through blurry eyes, trying to find something to focus on, to anchor himself to before he got out again.
The clothes on the counter smelt like Xiao Zhan's cologne and Yibo stared at it, running his fingers over the green fabric. The dark trousers will undoubtedly go past his ankles, and the t-shirt would fit snugly around him when he puts them on.
This is the closest you’ve let someone come to you. His mind supplied him helpfully, and Yibo shuddered again, trying to pull himself together.
Xiao Zhan had been the perfect date today. He had been kind, considering and mind numbly sweet to him, letting Yibo lead with his own pace, always following behind with a smile.
He asked you to stay as a friend.
The clothes felt warm on his skin when Yibo put them on, and he looked at the mirror once more. Maybe it was the clothes themselves or the smell of Xiao Zhan on them that helped Yibo calm down, and he took a steadying breath, eyes starting to focus back.
You could have this, you know? His brain spoke up. If you try hard enough, you could have this.
I want to. Could I? He thought.
Could I really?
Walking out of the toilet, Yibo found Xiao Zhan sitting on the couch, looking soft in his grey t-shirt and dark trousers.
"I didn’t know you wore glasses," Yibo commented while eying the black specs perched on his nose. They made his eyes more prominent than they already were, enhancing them in a way that made Yibo's voice hitch.
"When I'm home, yes," Xiao Zhan replied while patting the place beside him, a smile evident on his face. "Don't want to look like a geek in front of others."
"You don't look like a geek," Yibo replied instantly, his brain taking over his mouth, and Xiao Zhan chuckled.
"Really? What do I look like then?" he said, turning to face Yibo fully, making him flush.
"You look…, cute," Yibo mumbled, slowly sitting down on the couch, not too close yet not too far from where Xiao Zhan sat.
"Well, thank you for your generous compliment, Lao Wang. But I don’t believe you. " Xiao Zhan said, waving him off, "now, help me pick a movie," he said, turning on the tv, making Yibo turn towards the screen.
They settled on an action-thriller Yibo couldn’t remember the name of, and Xiao Zhan hit play, placing a bowl of popcorn between them.
It took Yibo fifteen minutes to realise he wasn’t watching the movie at all.
Nervous jitters seemed to prickle him every time Xiao Zhan moved beside him, who had somehow managed to reduce the tiny gap between them, only the tub of popcorn being the barrier that kept them apart.
What should I do now? His mind raced.
"Yibo?"
Should I even do anything?
"Yibo?"
Maybe I should just —
"Bo-di." Xiao Zhan's voice broke through his thoughts, and Yibo turned to him, finding the man looking at him worried.
"Are you alright?" he asked tentatively, and it was only then Yibo noticed the film was on pause.
"I–I'm fi —"
"Didi," Xiao Zhan spoke again, voice gentle, "You're shaking ."
"Did I pick the wrong movie?" he asked, sounding worried, "I should've asked more clearly – are you uncomfortable watching this–"
"It’s – it's not the movie, Zhan-ge." Yibo managed to let out.
"Ohh. Then…" Xiao Zhan trailed off. Reaching out tentatively, his hand paused an inch away from Yibo's shoulder. "Ca-can I?" he asked, waiting for Yibo to speak. And Yibo eyed him in surprise.
Nodding slowly, Yibo let Xiao Zhan place his hand on his arm.
"You know you can talk to me about anything, right, Yibo?" he spoke softly, looking at Yibo with kind eyes.
For some reason, the words had Yibo choked up, and he had to clear his throat while his eyes started to fill.
This was not supposed to happen. Not right now.
"It's alright. Take your time Bo-di, I'm right here." Xiao Zhan's voice was soothing to his ears, and Yibo tried his best to swallow down the lump in his throat.
"I...I'm not — " he tried to voice it out.
"Yibo, be honest with me. Do you feel uncomfortable when I touch you?" the words falling from Xiao Zhan's mouth had Yibo flinching. But before he could pull away from the man, Xiao Zhan stopped him.
"It's not anything I didn’t notice before, didi. We've known each other for over two months now. You always acted a bit stiff whenever we made contact ." Xiao Zhan spoke, "and honestly, that's not an issue for me. I don’t want to make you uncomfortable at all. Hell, I was surprised when you agreed to go out with me, despite all that. So please, if there's anything that I ever did that made you feel like you couldn’t be yourself around me, let me know, please?" He said softly. "I will never do anything you don't like. Ever. I don't want to lose you, Yibo."
The tears were falling from his eyes like rain when Yibo spoke.
"It’s not – it's not you Zhan-ge, I – I feel like I'm – I'm broken," Yibo choked out.
"Ohh baobie, whoever made you feel like you ever were ?" Xiao Zhan looked at him, eyes wide as his hand trailed up to Yibo's face, wiping away the stray drops from his cheek, before rearing his hand back in realisation.
"I'm sorry! I didn’t mean to —" Yibo shook his head, making Xiao Zhan stop with his apologies.
Moving forward tentatively, Yibo grabbed his hand in his own, placing the palm over his cheeks slowly.
"It’s – it's not that I don’t like touching, Zhan-ge," he spoke, voice hoarse, "It's just that, other people, they always want to touch me for….other reasons. And I don’t think I can– that I can ever…" he trailed off, looking down at his lap as another stray tear escaped his eyes.
With fingers lifting his chin, Xiao Zhan made Yibo look up at him.
"Wang Yibo," he spoke, sounding serious. "I like you for what and who you are. I like you because of the way you smiled at me the first time we met, which made my head spin and my world go hazy. I like you because of the way you make coffee like a machine, all elegant movements that looked like dancing. Or the way you bite your lips while focusing on something. I like you because of that boyish laughter of yours that keeps me up at night. I like you for your mindless teasing, your unhealthy obsession with legos which you talk about for hours on. I like you because of your eyes; they have this amazing shade of brown to them, do you know that? I like you for your heart that is just so stubborn and single-minded that I'm left envious. And I don't see a single reason for me to deny all of these, all of what you are, just because of that one small thing. It doesn’t matter, Yibo. I'm telling you this now, and if you would allow me, I'd like to tell you this every day in the future that is to come. It doesn’t matter ."
“You… you want… this?” Yibo asked, stupefied, and Xiao Zhan chuckled.
"I spent the last two months falling for every single thing about you baobei , of course, I want this. Whatever you are willing to give me," Xiao Zhan answered, "I want it."
A smile, tentative and blindly hopeful, bloomed slowly through Yibo's face as he stared at Xiao Zhan, who looked at Yibo like he wanted him to stay.
Yibo could understand now why Mrs Cheng insisted on storing memories. If Yibo could, he would store this one too. Keep it locked in a case somewhere and never let go.
"Now that it’s resolved, how about a cup of coffee?" Xiao Zhan said with a hint of tease. “I know a certain barista who makes a knockout cappuccino, even though he hates drinking it.“
Raising his head with a laugh, Yibo looked at the man before him, seeing his own face reflecting back through those beautiful eyes he came to call home for the last two months.
Yibo would keep him. He would keep this man forever.