Felt Like You
[📘 Content Warning:
This story contains Boys’ Love (BL) themes. Reader discretion is advised. Please read the disclaimers mentioned in the Instagram post.]
The next morning, Zhan boarded the 7:45 metro like always, slipping into the corner seat with his book in hand.
The train jolted forward, but his eyes weren’t on the pages.
His thoughts, uninvited yet stubborn, drifted only to one person… Yibo.
He told himself Yibo wouldn’t be on the train today.
College was closed for the semester break.
No reason for Yibo to come to Deqing.
And yet, when the train crossed Linping station the train crossed, his gaze would flicker up—just in case.
His fingers tightened on the edge of the book, but the words were blurry.
His mind was stuck replaying that moment… the screen of Yibo’s phone, glowing with a truth he didn’t know how to process.
The two of them, tangled on his bed…
A memory stolen from him, yet clearly alive in Yibo’s eyes.
It was haunting.
Not because it was wrong, but because it wasn’t.
Because something that intimate, something that real… had happened without his knowing.
Without his remembering…
And worse, Yibo never once said a word about it.
By the time the train pulled into Deqing station, rain had started slapping hard against the windows.
He stepped onto the platform and opened his black umbrella.
The morning air was thick with petrichor, and the streets shimmered under puddles, neon signs reflecting in the water like ghosts.
He walked to the bookstore in silence, boots splashing through shallow rainwater, cold wind biting at his cheeks.
————————————————–
In Lingpin, the rain hadn’t let up since morning.
A soft, steady drizzle tapped against the rusted roof of Yibo’s garage, blending with the low hum of his workbench tools.
The air smelled of engine oil and wet concrete, thick and cool around him.
His hands were busy tightening a loose chain on an old motorbike, the clink of metal echoing softly in the quiet space, but his mind was nowhere near the garage.
Not really.
His thoughts kept drifting back to Zhan.
It had been almost two days.
Two whole days since he saw him.
Since he heard his voice.
Since he sent that message, the one Zhan had read, but never replied to.
Yibo hadn’t expected a full conversation.
Not even forgiveness.
But the silence?
It was unbearable.
He didn’t know what Zhan was thinking.
What he was feeling.
And that uncertainty dug deep into his chest like a weight he couldn’t shake off.
He tried to distract himself.
Failed.
His fingers slowed over the wrench, jaw clenched.
He couldn’t do this again.
He couldn’t let Zhan shut him out, not this time.
Not when the truth was finally out.
Not when it had taken everything in him to say it.
So finally, Yibo made up his mind.
This couldn’t go on any longer.
He couldn’t let the distance stretch any further.
Not this time.
He had to talk to Zhan.
—————————————
The bookstore was quiet the entire day.
The bell barely rang.
Only a couple of soaked customers drifted in and out, smelling of wet clothes and coffee.
Outside, the rain never stopped.
By late evening, Zhan sat in his small workroom at the back, hunched over editing proofs for a children’s book, brightly colored animals smiling at him from the page while his thoughts remained cloudy and grey.
He checked the clock.
Almost 8:30.
He sighed and decided to close.
It was already late, and the rain hadn’t stopped since evening.
Zhan stretched in his chair, arms reaching above his head, his spine giving a soft crack as tension eased from his shoulders.
[Hey Love😍, so tell me… should I write “The End” or “To Be Continued” at the end of this chapter? Drop your thoughts in the comments, and don’t forget to let me know how today’s chapter felt!]
He blinked down at the page once more, then quietly gathered the sheets into a neat stack and clipped them together, slipping them into the folder beside him.
Capping his pen, he slid it aside, pushed the chair back, and stood.
After a final glance around the room, making sure everything was in order, he stepped into the main area of the bookstore, where the warm glow of the hanging bulbs welcomed him like a familiar embrace.
The air smelled faintly of paper, old wood, and a trace of lavender from the candle he’d lit earlier.
It was quiet, save for the gentle patter of rain against the glass.
He walked to the counter and closed the ledger, sliding it back into the drawer.
Turned off the small desk lamp, its golden glow dimming.
Then he unplugged the kettle behind the register.
He grabbed the folded umbrella by the shelf, tucked it under his arm, and finally made his way to the front.
The shutter was already halfway down.
As he reached for the switch—
Chime.
The bells jingled faintly.
His hand froze mid-reach as he turned back.
Footsteps echoed gently on the wooden floor.
And then… he saw him.
Yibo stood near the counter, raindrops still clinging to his hair, his cargo pants soaked from mid-calf.
A raincoat slung over his shoulders but doing little to keep him dry.
A thin white tee clung to his skin, damp from the storm.
His presence was quiet.
No dramatics.
Just… there.
Zhan’s heart tripped in his chest.
Their eyes locked… and time felt suspended for a breath too long.
Yibo offered a hesitant, lopsided smile.
Not his usual smug one.
This one was careful, unsure, maybe even a little nervous.
“I thought you might’ve left already.”
He said, voice softer than usual.
“But I saw the shutter halfway, so…”
Zhan gave a small nod.
“Yeah. I… I was just about to close.”
Yibo peeled off his raincoat and set it gently on a nearby chair, brushing wet hair back from his forehead.
Then he toed off his soaked sneakers by the door, then peeled off his damp socks.
The wooden floor was cool against his bare feet as he stepped further into the store.
The awkward air between them felt thicker than the humidity outside.
Zhan swallowed and looked away.
Bent down slightly to adjust a stack of books that didn’t really need adjusting, just something to keep his hands busy.
His fingers trembled slightly as he adjusted them for the third time.
Yibo stood quietly, eyes scanning the familiar space but always drifting back to Zhan.
He opened his mouth like he wanted to say something… but didn’t.
His jaw was tense, hands tucked into pockets of his cargo pants.
Zhan cleared his throat, still not meeting his eyes.
A silence settled, not cold but heavy.
Like both of them were waiting for the other to speak first.
Zhan glanced at him, just for a second, then quickly looked back down.
Yibo noticed…. of course he did.
And still… he didn’t move any closer.
Like he didn’t know whether to reach out… or leave.
Finally, just to break this awkward silence, Zhan spoke first.
“Why did you send it… to her house?”
Yibo leaned against the edge of the counter.
“Because she called me yesterday morning.”
He said, shrugging slightly.
“I’m still wondering how she got my number.”
Zhan didn’t say anything, just adjusted another pile of books, keeping his eyes down.
Yibo continued.
“She started making those same little threats again… saying she’d tell you everything.”
“We let her go once, right? Tried to handle it quietly. But she clearly didn’t take that as mercy, just saw it as a free pass.”
He paused, eyes narrowing slightly.
“So I figured… this was the only way to stop her.”
Yibo’s voice softened, but the resolve stayed in it.
“If everyone knows her lies… then even if she tells them what she knows about us…”
Zhan finally looked up.
Their eyes met, held.
He shrugged.
“Nobody will believe her. And it’s safer that way.”
Zhan gave a small nod.
“Hmm.”
After a moment’s pause, he glanced over his shoulder and gestured toward the quiet corner between two tall shelves.
“Wanna sit for a bit?”
Yibo nodded.
They both dropped to the wooden floor.
Facing each other, backs resting against the shelves stacked with novels about hearts that never confessed and books on the philosophy of silence.
A small yellow bulb above flickered slightly, casting a warm, mellow light on their faces.
Rain thudded steadily on the windows.
The store smelled faintly of old paper and rain-soaked air.
Neither spoke.
But somehow, the silence between them… awkward, unfinished, unresolved was better than not being in the same space at all.
————————————————
The rain outside had turned relentless.
It beat down on the street beyond the shutter like the pounding of unresolved thoughts.
Each drop sharp and echoing in the quiet stillness of the bookstore.
Inside, between tall, shadowed shelves stacked with forgotten stories… two hearts sat in the dim golden spill of a single wall sconce.
Zhan looked at him, expression calm but guarded, the kind that held too much emotion beneath the surface.
His eyes lingered on Yibo a moment longer than necessary, like he was trying not to let the warmth show.
“You shouldn’t have done this… coming all the way here, in this weather.”
Yibo shrugged.
“I needed to see you.”
Zhan didn’t reply.
Yibo’s brows knit slightly, a flicker of uncertainty passing through his face.
His gaze searched Zhan’s, like he was trying to understand something he couldn’t quite read.
Hesitant, puzzled… unsure if he was welcome or not.
“Zhan-ge…”
Zhan looked up, his expression unreadable.
“Please don’t be like this.”
His fingers nervously pulled at the frayed edge of his sleeve.
“Your silence… it’s not good. You should talk. Even if you’re mad at me… even if you wanna yell at me, or say you don’t wanna see me again… please just say it.”
“Because right now, I don’t understand what you’re feeling. And it’s killing me.”
Zhan didn’t answer right away.
The quiet stretched, heavy as the rain outside.
He stared down at his own hands, clasped tightly in his lap.
Finally, in a voice hoarse from holding too much in, he spoke.
“I… I’m not mad at you, Yibo.”
He exhaled slowly.
“It’s just… like I’m trying to remember something that my mind refuses to give me. And the worst part is, it’s something intimate. Something that should’ve been mine to hold, to know… but it’s blank. And that… it messes with me.”
Yibo didn’t move.
Didn’t speak.
Just stared at him, his eyes open and unreadable in the soft light.
Zhan continued, voice quieter, almost searching.
“Now when I look at you… I… I feel… I don’t even know how to describe it. It’s not bad. It’s not fear. But it’s not simple either. It’s just… everything’s a blur.”
Yibo’s shoulders slumped slightly.
His next words came out like a soft wound.
“Do you want me to stop coming to see you?”
His throat moved as he swallowed.
“Stop calling? Stop texting? Do you feel like…”
Yibo’s eyes searched Zhan’s face, his jaw tight, voice shaking slightly not with anger, but with fear.
Fear of hearing what he already suspected.
He swallowed hard.
“…that I should’ve stopped that night? That I took advantage of you just because you were drunk, ge?”
Zhan’s head snapped up.
His eyes were wide and honest as they met Yibo’s.
“No. Yibo… no.”
His voice cracked.
“I never thought that. Not even once. I’m not angry with you. In fact… what I’m feeling now, it’s… good.”
Zhan’s gaze softened, a mix of vulnerability and something unspoken flickering in his eyes.
“Like… I’ve been confused for years, living with all these expectations and assumptions about who I am and what I want. And now, suddenly… I have clarity.”
Yibo’s breath caught.
Slowly, he leaned forward, kneeling in front of Zhan.
He rested his hands gently on Zhan’s knees.
“Then why won’t you talk to me, Zhan-ge…?”
His voice trembled.
“Your silence… it’s making me feel like I’ve done something wrong. Like, I hurt you.”
Zhan’s throat worked.
His heart was pounding so loudly, he swore Yibo could hear it.
He looked into those deep familiar eyes, and his voice came out barely a whisper.
“I didn’t talk to you because…”
Zhan’s voice caught slightly.
He looked down at his hands, fingers nervously twisting together.
“…now I want to talk to you more.”
He glanced up at Yibo, eyes uncertain but earnest.
“I want to be close to you… more than before. And I’m scared, Yibo…”
He paused, swallowing hard, the tension clear in his throat and shoulders.
“Because if I come too close to you again…”
His voice dipped lower, trembling.
“…I might not be able to stop myself.”
A breath… quiet, shaky.
“And I don’t even know if that’s right or wrong anymore. It’s not just physical, Yibo… that’s what terrifies me most. It’s everything else.”
He let out a dry, shaky laugh, barely a sound.
“I’ve never felt this way before. Not like this… It’s not just about what happened that night, it’s what I felt after you told me. The silence. The space you left for me.”
He looked at Yibo again, eyes glinting with unspoken fear.
“You waited. You didn’t push. You just… stayed. And that’s exactly why I’m scared. Because now I want this… you… even more.”
Yibo blinked, stunned.
He didn’t speak right away.
His eyes searched Zhan’s face… really looked at him.
At the fear behind his honesty, the tremble beneath his voice, the weight of everything he was finally laying bare.
Then slowly, ever so slowly, a small, hopeful smile tugged at his lips.
His eyes shimmered under the low light.
“Then don’t stop yourself… Zhan-ge.”
Zhan stared at him.
Then, quietly, almost like he was afraid to break the moment, he said.
“I stayed because… I wanted to.”
“Because you matter to me, ge. Not because of that night. I think… I’ve cared about you long before that. That night just made me stop pretending.”
He paused, breathing in carefully, steadying himself.
“I didn’t wait because I was being patient. I waited because I couldn’t walk away from you, even if I tried.”
Zhan’s eyes flickered… overwhelmed, but listening.
Yibo leaned forward just slightly, not closing the distance, but letting his presence feel a little closer.
Warmer.
“You don’t have to figure it all out right now. I’m not asking for anything. But I need you to know… you’re not the only one scared.”
A beat.
“I’m scared too. Because I…”
Silence.
Yibo’s eyes dropped for a second… then lifted again, steady and bare.
“…I’ve already fallen for you.”
Zhan’s breath hitched.
His eyes locked onto Yibo’s, and for a moment, it was all there… the disbelief, the ache, the quiet, terrified hope.
Then, softer still, Yibo’s voice trembled.
Not from weakness, but from the weight of everything he had been carrying alone.
“And I’d still choose you… even if it means standing on the side-lines, loving you in silence, for the rest of my life.”
Yibo’s eyes dropped, his head lowering just a little, like holding Zhan’s gaze was suddenly too much.
For a long moment, the air between them was alive… thick with something too big for either of them to name.
The soft patter of rain was the only sound in the world.
Zhan’s brows pulled together, not in confusion, but in a sudden rush of emotion he didn’t know how to hold.
His lips parted slightly, as if a reply was trying to form but all that came out was silence.
But his eyes said it… wide with hesitation, then soft with surrender.
His chest rose with a shaky breath, the fight in his shoulders finally giving way to something deeper… something undeniable.
Then his voice came, quiet… the kind of truth you only say once, when you’re done holding back.
“Kiss me.”
Yibo froze.
His head snapped up, as if the words had physically pulled him upright.
His eyes locked on Zhan’s, wide with disbelief, like he wasn’t sure he’d heard him right.
Zhan’s voice was more certain now.
“Kiss me, Yibo… I want to feel it. I want to remember it. While I’m awake. I want to know what it feels like… when it’s real. When it’s you.”
Yibo’s breath hitched.
He stared at him, heart in his throat.
“Ge… you don’t have to do this.”
He said quietly, almost pleading.
“Just because something happened between us when you weren’t fully there… you don’t have to force yourself now. Not for me.”
Zhan shook his head, leaning forward, voice firm despite the softness in his eyes.
“I’m not forcing myself. I want this, Yibo. No doubt. No guilt. Just me… choosing you. Right now.”
Yibo searched Zhan’s face for any trace of hesitation, but found only quiet determination.
Then slowly, he leaned in… hesitated, just for a breath.
A pause – not out of doubt, but devotion… the kind of stillness that happens when something sacred is just within reach.
His hand rose to Zhan’s cheek, cupping it gently, his thumb brushing softly along his skin as if committing every detail to memory.
His lips hovered a breath away from Zhan’s, eyes wide open, searching his face one last time… not for permission, but for something deeper.
A silent yes.
A shared longing.
Their eyes met once more… something unspoken passing between them.
A confession without words, trembling between two heartbeats.
Then Yibo closed his eyes and kissed him…
Slow and unshaking, like a prayer he’d been too afraid to say out loud.
Zhan’s lashes lowered, eyes fluttering shut as if caught in a dream.
His fingers curling faintly in his lap… the only hint of the quiet storm of longing building inside him.
Their lips met… not tentative or uncertain, but full of feeling.
Quiet and deep, like something long-held finally being set free.
Yibo’s lips brushed against Zhan’s lower lip.
Zhan kissed his upper with equal care and intensity.
They switched… slow and unsure at first, tasting the newness of something they both had waited for… one unknowingly, the other painfully aware.
It wasn’t just a kiss.
It was Zhan reaching through the fog of lost memory, searching for something real.
It was Yibo offering every part of himself, yet again, without asking anything in return.
After a few moments, Yibo pulled back slightly.
His eyes fluttered open.
Zhan was already looking at him.
And in those deep brown eyes, there was no confusion, only a fragile, breath-taking clarity.
Zhan’s voice came low, trembling.
“I want more, Yibo… not just the kiss.”
He swallowed, breath unsteady.
“I want to feel you… completely. I want to know what it feels like to have you like this. To be with you, fully awake, fully present.”
His eyes shimmered, holding a quiet ache.
“I want to remember every kiss, every touch. Just like you remember that night.”
He looked into Yibo’s eyes, voice barely a whisper.
“And… to give you all of me. Because this time, I’m choosing it. With all that I am. I want to belong to this… to you.”
“Tonight, I…”
He paused, heart thudding in the space between them.
“…I want you.”
Yibo stared at him, stunned.
For a moment, he couldn’t breathe.
Then something inside him gave way… something soft, aching, and tender.
He didn’t need words… he let Zhan feel his answer instead.
This time, he leaned in and kissed him hard and urgent.
Not just with want, but with everything he hadn’t been able to say aloud.
His hands curling around the back of Zhan’s neck, just under his ears… holding him like he couldn’t bear to let go.
Hard, aching, real… like every piece of him had been waiting for this moment.
And Zhan let him.
He met that kiss with equal fire and desperation.
His hands trembling as they moved up to pull Yibo closer… closer until there was no space left between them.
Because this time, he wasn’t lost.
He wasn’t scared.
This time, he chose it… with full awareness, with his whole heart.
Wide awake.
Wanting him… choosing him.
The collage boy from the metro…
The delivery boy who showed up that rainy night with food in his hands…
The garage boy who would fight the world for him… was finally Zhan’s.
And Yibo…
Knowing, deep down, Zhan was always meant to be his.
The smiling bookstore guy he always admired…
The softest-hearted guy he had ever known…
The guy he quietly fell for, somewhere between shared glances and silent metro rides… was finally his too.
[To be continued…]
——————————————-
Author’s Note:
Heyyy, you made it to the end of the chapter! 😄
Hope you enjoyed it — and if you did, please don’t forget to like & comment on my Insta post. 💖
Think of it as your way of telling me, “Hey, I’m here, and I loved it!” — it means the world to me and truly keeps me inspired to write more for you! ✨
The Red Ribbon 