Home (My Heart Is With You) ♣ Original Prompt | Part 2

[light_kira1]

♣ Part 1 ♣

The weeks until his move fly past within the blink of an eye, and before Yixing knows it, he's already standing at the airport, two suitcases already checked in, leaving him with nothing but his worn out purple backpack and the feeling like he's about to throw up settled in his stomach. He already said his goodbye to his parents, tearful on their side and carefully controlled on his, so now all that's left is to part with the catboy. Yifan doesn't cry, so Yixing tells himself he won't either. What he fears the most is that Yifan will grow distant, or that he will resent Yixing for being selfish. If he were to look at the younger with cold disinterest, Yixing wouldn't even be able to blame him.

Yifan is wearing that blue sweater, which makes everything better and a million times worse at the same time. It speaks of Yifan still trusting Yixing to keep his promise, that he'll keep holding on to everything being with Yixing means to him. Yet, at the same time, it reminds Yixing that with every kilometer between them he's not fulfilling the duty he'd swore to fulfill all his life.

"I'm sorry." is what he wants to say, but the words die on his tongue; he doesn't want their parting to taste like stale, meaningless apologies. He made the choice, and now he has to stick with it. So instead he moves closer, carefully, keeping an open eye for any signs that Yifan might not want such intimacy right then, but the catboy remains rooted to the ground. His softening gaze is the only indication of him actually welcoming the touch when Yixing winds his arms around Yifan's waist pulling himself close to the taller's body, resting his head against Yifan's broad chest.

It still surprises him at times just how much Yifan has grown, how much he has changed from the small, slender boy he used to be when Yixing first saw him. Changed physically, that is, because when Yifan folds around him just like he always does, lowering his head until it's resting on Yixing's shoulder, giving him a chance to inhale his own scent clinging to the younger's skin, Yixing knows that on the inside Yifan is still the same.

"I will be back in a month," Yixing promises, already having booked his first plane tickets back home right after he made his decision. A month seems awfully long, but Yixing reasons that it's better than nothing. They will be able to make it through a month at least without seeing each other, he tries to persuade himself. He feels Yifan nod against his shoulder in silent response.

Then it's time to part for real, Yixing already having to hurry to make it through security and to his gate for boarding. He feels a little overdramatic, having to fight tears as he steps away. They're both grown adults at that point, he's no longer eight years old, and neither is he losing Yifan, nor is this goodbye the end of the world. It's a shame that telling himself that like a mantra, over and over again does not help with dissipating the tightness in his chest at all. The middle-aged woman who is sitting in the seat next to him gives him a tissue thirty minutes into the flight because he keeps on sniffling, and only then does he realize that his vision is slightly clouded by the tears brimming in his eyes. He accepts it with a smile, hoping to reassure the lady who looks at him with a doubtful gaze but doesn't prod any further. In the end she gives him the whole package, telling him in a motherly tone that he seems to need it more than she does. Even though he wants to refuse, he has to agree with her because the tears keep reappearing. He reasons it's his own fault though, since he keeps on looking at the picture he took of Yifan in the aiport, wanting to have a reminder of how the catboy looks like wearing the sweater Yixing gifted him years ago. When they land, his eyes burn and Yixing can't help but wonder whether he's slightly masochistic for being unable to stop looking at his phone.

It takes him around two hours to make it from the airport to his new home because in his haze he accidentally gets onto the wrong subway, having to take a detour as soon as he realizes his mistake. He doesn't even take note of the restaurant selling his favourite dish right at the beginning of the street, or the quaint little coffee shop because he's simply exhausted, and all he wants is to finally fall into bed.

He thanks the heavens when he eventually unlocks the flat and discovers that his future company had already arranged for the most essential furniture to be present, so all he needs to do is take off his shoes, drop his suitcases unceremoniously in the hallway and trudge towards the single room at the far end of the flat. The apartment is small, smaller even than the one he used to live in with Yifan but he feels as if it's size is almost unbearably big, and he doesn't know how he's supposed to fill all this space.

A few pictures on the walls, a bit more furniture and this will be really nice, he tries to comfort himself, but the words don't really have any effect on his mood. He's never been very good at deluding himself. Getting into bed that night is something he dreads, because he already knows that he will feel cold no matter how warm he sets the AC.

He video calls his parents before he goes to sleep, with the excuse of reassuring them that everything went well and he's settled into his new home as best as he can. In reality he just wants to see Yifan. He surprisingly manages to keep his composure, but he still sleeps with one of Yifan's favourite shirts as night wear, having stolen it from the catboy's cupboard in a spur-of-the-moment decision when he was packing his last bag yesterday night, unable to resist the temptation. At least it smells like home, even when neither the flat nor the bed feel like it at all.

His work starts right away the next morning, since he wanted to put his move off as long as he could. The weariness of the travel and the lingering sense of sadness still sits in his bones when he forces his eyes open, and even though he's not a coffee drinker he still stops by the shop on the corner of his street in order to get a dose of caffeine, since he doesn't know whether he'll make it through the day without it.

The work is stressful, to say the least, but it's everything Yixing could have hoped for. It keeps him on his toes, and he welcomes it with open arms. His coworkers praise his commitment to his new position, while at the same time cautioning him to not overdo it. Yixing thanks them for their concern, and continues taking on as many tasks as he can. He reasons it's for the sake of making the best out of the chance he's been given, of proving himself worthy, when in reality he's just trying to avoid having to go back to his flat.

After three weeks, he still has neither bought any more furniture to fill up the space nor put up any sort of decoration to make it feel more homely. It helps, being able to throw himself headfirst into work, but below the surface he begins to notice cracks he can't make any sense of.

When the fourth weekend finally rolls around, bringing with it his plane flight home, to see his parents and Yifan, he is only half as excited as he thought he'd be. He's looking forward to seeing them all, of course he is, he's been feeling as if he's been physically aching with desire to meet them, but at the same time he's afraid, terrified of wounds being torn open which he believes to be just about to heal. He already knows that once he’s in Changsha, he’ll not want to return back to Shanghai, the comfort of his home too tempting in comparison with the cold of the city that still makes him feel like a stranger. It's not like he has any choice though, his promise with Yifan having to be protected.

His family is there to pick him up from the airport at past 11 p.m. when his plane was delayed, and his mother is crying when she pulls him into a hug so tight that he feels like she might crush his ribcage. She might be one and a half heads smaller than him, but she's probably stronger than he is. He's tempted to remind her that he's 23 already, and that he was gone for a mere month, but he reasons that it's a parent's thing to do so he doesn't say anything and just returns her hug until she's willing to let go of him. Yixing's father follows his wife's suit, although his hug lacks her strength, desperation and duration.

Then it's his turn to face Yifan, and Yixing wishes he didn't firsthand see the circles under the other's eyes he can usually conveniently attribute to the bad quality of their video calls. Yifan, for a lack of better words, doesn't look good, and Yixing wonders whether he's reflecting his own state. He knows he's lost a little weight since he moved out, and that his irregular sleeping schedule didn't have exactly have the best effect on his skin either. But what hurts the most is to see that Yifan hesitates slightly, and his tail swishes in a display of indecisiveness. Fear grabs at his heart in that moment, fear that they've grown apart in the short span of a month, and Yixing feels his breathing still in anticipation as he takes a step towards the hybrid.

"Yifan..." he says, his tone more unsure than he wants it too, but he can't help fearing rejection. Yifan, however, doesn't move away. He just also doesn't move closer, waiting until Yixing can reach out to touch his hand against the catboy's cheek. "I kept my promise," he says, and the words sounding too dramatic even for his own ears, as if coming back after a month took a lot of effort.

They make Yifan crack a smile however, so he can't bring himself to regret them. "You did," the catboy agrees, and Yixing mirrors his expression when Yifan nuzzles into the palm of his hand like he used to do when he was still a lot younger.

The initial awkwardness falls away quickly, and by the time they've hefted Yixing slightly-heavier-than-necessary overnight bag into the car's trunk and have taken off to battle Changsha's late night traffic, Yifan's all over Yixing. Yixing hears his parents chuckle silently as Yifan rubs his head all over Yixing, a constant string of complaints about Yixing smelling all wrong leaving his mouth as he works on scenting Yixing all throughout their 45 minutes drive back home.

By the time they arrive, Yifan looks mighty pleased with himself while Yixing's stomach hurts and he's gasping for air because he laughed too much, Yifan's tongue and breath too tickling against his neck and all of actions too much of a reminder of 15-year-old Yifan who had refused to go to bed with Yixing before he hadn't cleaned every tiny bit of the scent of Yixing's friend off of him when the human teen returned from staying over at a classmate's place for a night.

Yixing spends the rest of the weekend doing nothing but lazing around, because Yifan doesn't want to do much else, and all Yixing wants from the time at home is to be around the people he's missed so dearly while he was gone. So he watches reruns of that Chinese soap opera his mother loves with Yifan's tail curled around his upper arm while the hybrid purrs against his shoulder, and he listens to the catboy tell stories about his children in the dead of the night while they're tangled together under the sheets, soaking up all the closeness they both didn't have over the weeks of being separated.

Within the span of 38 hours Yixing feels his resources be refilled, all the exhaustion and queasy feelings he seemed to be unable to get rid off for a whole months disappearing and leaving him able to breathe freely for the first time in what feels like forever. He doesn't even really notice how he's not leaving Yifan's side at all until his parent's point it out, but he just smiles and reaches up to ruffle Yifan's hair and ears. "This giant baby here just missed me too much," he explains, and grins widely when Yifan huffs and protests, saying he was completely fine on his own. He wasn't, and neither was Yixing, but he doesn't point that out in favour of simply laughing.

As much as the weekend feels like heaven, obviously it has to come to an end, and before Yixing knows it he's experiencing an overwhelming sense of déjà vu, standing at the airport again and having to say goodbye. This time there are no suitcases he will have to pick up in Shanghai, and he is not in the danger of accidentally getting into the wrong subway. No one's crying this time either, although Yixing's mother's eyes are glistening with tears, but they don't spill. He hugs them all tight when it's time for him to get to his gate, his mother, his father and Yifan, and it's easier to keep a bright smile on his face this time, the giddy energy still singing in his veins. Of course it hurts to wave goodbye and walk through the ticket gates to where his parents and Yifan can't follow, perhaps it even hurts as badly as Yixing had thought it would, but when he boards the plane he's filled to the brim with optimism. Perhaps it's just a matter of getting used to being separated, perhaps it will all work out as long as he gets to go back home in regular intervals to soak up enough closeness to last him until the next time.

-o-

Nothing turns out okay, much to Yixing's distress. He tries his best to live off the memories, and off the pretty much daily video calls, but both his mood and his physical condition deteriorate much faster than he would ever have expected. Just like before, he throws himself into work, but that's something he has been doing all his life. He has been just as dedicated during his university time, worked just as hard as he was doing his internships, and it doesn't make any sense to him why it should be taking such a toll on him now when it didn't before.

Not knowing any other way, he tries to fight his bad mood with even more work, but his plan doesn't work out. It doesn't make him feel worse, but it also doesn't make him feel better. He's having troubles sleeping, and while he's managed to make friends at work, he still feels as if there's a gaping hole in his heart and he doesn't know what to do about it.

If travelling by plane, it only takes two hours from Shanghai to Changsha, but that is the pure time he's up in the air. On top of that he needs at least an hour to get to the airport in the first place, having to arrive there an hour before his flight departs if he wants to play it safe, and at least another 30 minutes to make it through customs and back out to the airport lobby, and then he still has to drive to his parents' home. All in all, from door to door it takes him five hours on a good day and more than six on a bad one, so as much as he would love to take the trip back to Changsha every weekend, his busy schedule (and tight budget) doesn't allow him to, and before he knows it, even monthly visits are impossible.

Whenever he does manage to make it home, the stinging in his chest disappears, and he can breathe freely again, but as soon as he arrives back in his flat, the effect only lasts for a few hours, a day or two perhaps if he's lucky, then he's back to struggling with mood swings he never before experienced, and he goes through days when his stomach feels so uneasy that he doesn't want to eat anything.

Luhan, one of the artists at work he befriended pretty early on, looks at him with particular worry in his eyes during these days, and Yixing almost questions why, when Luhan has only ever known him in the stricken state he has been in ever since coming to Shanghai. Then again, he has days when he feels better and days where it's worse, and he truly loves his work with all his heart. It's all the more reason for him to wonder what the heck is wrong with living in Shanghai, why he can't seem to get into gear in his new home.

In attempt to turn his flat more livable, he even goes shop for small interior design items together with Zitao, one of their company's costume designers. Luhan trudges along, claiming that the tall blond needs someone to dampen his enthusiasm when it comes to extravagance. It turns out to be for the better, and to Yixing's utter surprise he's very satisfied with the result. And yet, despite his newfound liking for the interior of his flat, and the undeniably warm feeling it should emit, he doesn't feel anything change. As soon as his two friends are out of the door, the coldness returns and Yixing feels something like annoyance well up in within him. He's trying his best at settling, isn't he? As a 23 year old he should be very well capable of living by himself.

When they're out at a bar for an after-work beer one night, Yixing, already not exactly sober anymore, courtesy of his low alcohol tolerance, confesses the troubles he's been having with finding the feeling of home in Shanghai, and how he's constantly feeling as if there's something missing, his flat always being cold.

Luhan, already on his third White Russian and therefore decidedly tipsy as well, asks Yixing outright when he got laid the last time, and whether he has already considered finding a significant other to bring a bit of life into the flat that feels too empty no matter how much furniture Yixing places into it. The younger man surprises himself with how quickly and vehemently he shoots Luhan's suggestions down, even though he knows very well that sex works wonders on dispersing stress. And he has worked out by now that it must be stress that's causing his stomach to be upset and his sleep to be restless.

"There are a lot of pretty girls in Shanghai, you know," Luhan presses on, unwilling to let Yixing brush over the topic like that. "I swear, the beauty-rate here is like five times as high as in Beijing, let me tell you. Perhaps we should go clubbing together, I know places that will make you think you died and went to heaven because there are so many angels around."

Yixing cocks an unimpressed eyebrow at him. "You've really been writing too many cheesy love songs, Han," is his only comment before he takes another gulp of his drink, a rather nasty mix of ice tea and Jack Daniel's, but he's already past the point of caring about the burn in his throat.

For a moment Luhan is silent, and Yixing almost thinks he might have gotten out of having this talk just like that, but then the lavender haired male leans a bit closer and narrows his eyes as he scrutinizes Yixing. "You don't really sound excited at the prospect of mingling with pretty girls," he notes, and Yixing already knows what the other is going to say when he opens his mouth next. "Are pretty girls not your thing?"

"No, no, pretty girls are nice," Yixing replies, and Luhan's eyebrow shoots up to join his hairline.

"That doesn't sound very convincing, my dear Yixing," the elder says in teasing tone, before slinging his arm around Yixing's shoulder. Up this close Yixing can see how diluted the other's pupils are, and he can smell the alcohol in Luhan's breath, though he knows he must be in a pretty similar state. When Luhan speaks next, he's completely serious. "You know, I'm very open minded. If girls are not your thing, you can tell me. I won't judge or treat you any differently."

Yixing's lips stretch into a smile, and for the nth time he feels unbelievably glad to have found a friend like Luhan. "Thanks, that's good to hear, but it's really not about the gender."

"Oh, so you swing both ways?" Luhan asks, his interest obviously piqued, before his eyes widen as another thought comes to his mind, "or do you perhaps swing neither way?"

The elder looks so curious and shocked at the same time, that Yixing can't help but laugh, and he guesses it's half Luhan's expression's fault and half the alcohol's. He tells his co-worker that he doesn't really look at gender when measuring a person's attractiveness, and the next 30 minutes Luhan spends with pestering him about what physical or character traits he's attracted to. Yixing laughs at most of the questions, and says that it depends on the person and a multitude of conditions. Luhan, in turn, suggests that they should just go out clubbing together either way, so that Yixing can simply point out to him which people he'd take home and which he wouldn't.

"Really Lu, it's fine. I'm not looking for anyone right now," Yixing interrupts Luhan when the elder seems about ready to drag him off to a club to get him laid right then and there.

It has Luhan still in the middle of a sentence, and he studies Yixing with that scrutinizing gaze again that makes Yixing feel as if the other can see his very soul. "Say, Yixing, do you have someone waiting for you back in Changsha by any chance?"

"I-" Yixing starts, but then stops as there suddenly are thoughts of Yifan flooding his mind, and he suddenly has the desire to end his answer with "do" instead of "don't" like he had originally intended to. Luhan raises an expectant eyebrow at him when the younger doesn't continue, and Yixing shakes his head shortly to get out of his trance. "I don't."

"That answer took you awfully long," the elder notes, and the suspicion seeping from his whole expression, and Yixing can't even blame him. He is surprised himself that he hesitated.

He makes it back home with the last train, successfully having talked Luhan out of the clubbing for the night, and when he makes it home the alcohol still buzzing in his veins makes the flat feel only half as cold and twice as empty at the same time. He's been unable to get the thoughts of Yifan out of his head for the whole evening, so when he falls into bed, his fingers automatically move on his phone until he finds the Skype function. It's close to midnight, but it doesn't even take two rings before Yifan is picking up Yixing's call. The catboy looks sleepy, his hair slightly disheveled, his ears lazily twitching, and Yixing can make out the shape of his pillow below his head.

"I'm sorry, did I wake you?" he asks in a whisper, knowing exactly that Yifan likes to go to sleep early, even when he sleeps in the next morning.

"Kinda," the catboy's deep voice rumbles, and Yixing recalls how he'd be able to feel the vibrations from it when he rested his head against Yifan's chest. He has to bite his lower lip in an attempt to get his feelings back under control, even though he doesn't even know what kind of feelings that are. Yifan, unaware of Yixing's internal battle, yawns, exposing his canines that are slightly longer than Yixing's, forming little fangs. It has Yixing smile, even as his eyes water a little.

"Sorry," he apologizes, and Yifan just hums in acceptance, his eyes blinking rapidly as if he's fighting to stay awake. Yixing wants to tell him that it's okay to go to sleep again, that he didn't mean to disrupt his nightly routine to begin with but instead he blurts out, "I miss you."

"I miss you too," Yifan whispers back, his voice gentle and laced with drowsiness and it makes Yixing curl into a ball on top of the covers, the arm that isn't holding his phone wrapping around his knees as if hugging himself can warm him up, when the room temperature is not the problem at all.

They don't really talk much at all, one or two words here, a short sentence there. Both of them are exhausted, and Yixing wonders whether Yifan can tell the alcohol rushing through his veins. If he can, he doesn't mention it, instead indulging Yixing in the meaningless chitchat the younger needs. After a while, their conversation falls into a natural lull, and Yixing eventually falls asleep to the sound of Yifan's soft snoring, his phone resting beside his head on the pillow.

-o-

After that night, Luhan starts setting him up on blind dates, even though the elder doesn't admit to it. Yixing grows wary of whenever Luhan calls him up to come try out that new restaurant he found around their neighbourhood with some friends of his, or watch that new movie that's been getting amazing reviews, because the instances are piling up where Luhan suddenly becomes unable to attend with sudden headaches or urgent deadlines, leaving Yixing alone with whatever friend Luhan invited for the night.

They are all nice people, interesting for sure, and on a similar attractiveness level as Luhan himself is, but Yixing can't develop a liking to any of them. He tries to in the beginning, he really does, going into each blind-date with an open mind and primed to perfection. However neither the dating nor the occasional make-out sessions on car seats or at his front door helps him feel any better. On the opposite hand, having some girls perfume cling to his clothes afterwards, or having the memory of some guy's fingers in his hair tingle against his scalp, makes him feel sick to the stomach when he thinks about how mad Yifan would be at all the foreign scents clinging to his clothes and body.

These nights always end with Yixing showering way longer than necessary, using all the Yifan-approved body washes he still keeps on buying out of habit even though he only sees Yifan on a monthly basis, if he's lucky. Afterwards he slips Yifan's shirt on, always exchanging the one he has with him for a new one whenever he's home to keep the smell fresh, and when he falls into bed, he feels like the tight ball of stress has only curled tighter in his stomach.

Eventually even Luhan seems to agree that setting Yixing up with random people won't be the cure to his bad mood, so he switches over to arranging real meetings with friends, inviting two or three other people and coming along himself as well. Yixing is way more grateful for these relaxed evenings spent in bars, but they only provide temporary relief.

Yixing is very close to wondering whether he should consult a doctor or psychologist, when he receives an unexpected phone call from his father one nights. Since his move to Shanghai, almost seven months has passed already, and seeing his display flash with his father's name, Yixing suddenly realizes that he hasn't had the chance to go home in over two months.

"Hello, Baba?" he answers the phone, slight confusion tinting his voice because usually his parents don't call him out of the blue, knowing that Yixing's working hours tend to be quite irregular and they don't dare interrupt the little sleep their son usually gets. So Yixing knows it's important when his father throws all caution to the wind and calls him either way. He instantly feels his heart with the fear that something bad has happened at home.

"Yixing, son, how are you doing?" his father asks on the other end of the line, and can hear the strain of him trying to be casual when there obviously is something that's worrying him.

"I'm doing okay," Yixing replies, unable to downright lie to his parents but also not wanting them to know how much of a hard time he's having. "Work's been a bit busier than usual as of lately," he continues by means of explanation, but then he's unable to hold his curiosity back, "Why are you calling, Ba?"

He hears his father sigh, followed by a short pause as the man gathers his words. "It's about Yifan," he eventually says, and Yixing swears he stops breathing for a second as dread clutches his stomach tightly.

"What about Yifan?" he asks, his voice shaking slightly he doesn't even bother clearing his throat in an attempt to steady it before continuing, "Is something wrong with him? Is he sick? Did he get hurt? Should I come over? If it's an emergency I'm sure I can get my boss to give me a few days off, I-"

"Yixing," his father interrupts him, making Yixing shut his mouth before any more words can spill out.

He will only find out why his father called if he allows him to speak, so he nods to indicate he's listening, only realizing on second thought that his father can't see him, "Okay, I'm listening."

"I really didn't want to have to tell you about this, because I know you're very busy, but I'm afraid it's gotten to a point where I can't just look past it anymore. Also I think you have a right to know."

A million scenarios form in Yixing's head against his will, pictures of Yifan being bedridden by some terrible illness that worsened rapidly, or the catboy with broken bones and battered after getting into an accident or, and he surprises himself by the thought, the idea of Yifan having found a mate and, after a few months of courtship, having decided to move in with his new lifetime partner. He tells himself that it's of no use to let his imagination run wild when he should rather let his father finish talking, but the influx of images is so sudden and strong that he can't fight it.

"Yixing? Are you still there?" His father's voice breaks him from his internal battle, and Yixing snaps back to reality, shaking his head in a futile attempt to chase away the numbing fears clouding his mind.

"I am," he reassures his father that he hasn't gone anywhere, "Please, tell me, what's wrong with Yifan?"

"I don't really know how to best phrase this," another sigh, and Yixing can clearly hear the worry in the older man's voice when he continues, "Yifan really hasn't been doing well ever since you left. It was obvious from the beginning, but it's gotten worse. At first we thought it were just normal separation issues. You two have been together for almost 15 years, and we thought Yifan was simply missing the person he had bonded the closest with, and we hoped that this wound was one time could heal."

Me too, Yixing wants to say, I thought the same, I have been miserable as well and nothing has helped. He stays silent however, able to tell there's still more from the way his father is making these small humming sounds that always indicate he's thinking intently.

"Also... this might sound really weird, and I hope I'm not making things uncomfortable between you and Yifan by telling you this, but when he last went into heat two weeks ago I heard him whimper your name, and not only once."

"W-what?" Yixing croaks out, the sinking feeling of dread suddenly making way to the heady rush of a mixture of embarrassment and, incongruously, a hint of arousal at the idea of Yifan, in the middle of finding relief for the heat burning under his skin, thinking of Yixing. He scolds himself for it, since he really has more important things to focus on at the moment, like the fact that Yifan's apparently not doing well.

"Yeah, I hope you're not too embarrassed to hear that from your father's mouth instead of getting Yifan to tell it to you yourself, but I think even Yifan isn't fully aware of what that means. And before I talk to him about it, I needed to tell you, so you have time to let these things sink in. I don't know if you've even heard of the concept before, but does imprinting ring a bell with you?"

Yixing makes a sound of  noncommittal sound that's half recognition and half question.There is something at the back of his mind, a memory of something he heard or read a long time ago, but he can't quite reach it, so he asks his father to continue.

"Well, there are a lot of different meanings to imprinting, depending on the context. It's not exactly normal for hybrids to imprint on someone. It happens, but it's rather on the rare than on the common side. When it happens though, it essentially means that a hybrid has found their mate, the partner they will spend their life with. The effects of it aren't really visible as long as the hybrid and its mate are together, as they will both simply display what could also be seen as a very close friendship or very happy relationship, but it's easy to tell once they're apart. For hybrids, imprinting means developing a strong sense of dependency. Being away from the one they imprinted on will have detrimental effects on both their psychological and physical condition, as the distance seems to drain their energy bit by bit. Usually imprinting occurs between two hybrids, but there have reportedly been cases where hybrids who only had contact with humans for most of their life have also imprinted on humans."

It's really not difficult to connect the dots between the first part of their conversation and the explanations on imprinting, but Yixing still refuses to jump to conclusions when a tiny bit of doubt remains. "So you're trying to say..." he starts, letting his sentence trail off on purpose to let his father complete it.

"That I think that Yifan has imprinted himself on you. Sure, I could be wrong, we've only ever had imprinting happen like two or three times at the shelter, but it really sounds like the most reasonable explanation to me as for why Yifan is suffering as much as he does. You don't see it, because whenever he's with you he's normal again, his spirits lifted but as soon as you're gone he constantly seems to be dragging a boulder around with him [iwas schweres mit sich rumschleppen] for how easily he tires and how slouched he walks. Which only works to support my theory. I don't know when it happened, but thinking back on the time you first moved out, it seems like he imprinted himself on you pretty early on. Are you still with me so far?"

Yixing isn't quite sure whether he is, everything after "I think Yifan has imprinted himself on you" a bit of a fuzzy mess rather than a clear sound in his head, but he reasons that he's caught the most important part. It's surprising for him how easy it is to accept that, to come to the conclusion that yes, like this everything would make sense. The emptiness, the longing, the coldness and the total lack of things getting better no matter how much time passes. It all fits the pattern, and Yixing wonders how he didn't see it earlier. In the middle of matching everything he now recalls about imprinting from his biology lessons on hybrids back in school, he comes to a sudden halt however.

"Wait, is there something like reverse imprinting? Can humans also imprint back on the hybrids who have imprinted on them?" he asks, as he remembers that imprinting only used to apply to hybrids, never to humans. It has been a while since he sat behind his desk at school, only half listening to what his teacher was droning on about as he was busy passing notes back and forth with a fellow classmate of his, so he doesn't recall everything precisely even though it would be the perfect explanation for his current condition.

"Reverse imprinting?" his father repeats, and Yixing is able to immediately tell from his tone that that's not a concept the older man has ever heard of before. "I do not think there's something like that. Humans work differently from hybrids, our anatomy, while similar in some points, is fundamentally different in others. I do not think our physiology lends itself to linking us so closely to another person that being away from them calls on the physical symptom being away from their imprinted one does for hybrids," his father explains, then stills for a moment and makes a small sound in the back of his throat, "Although now that I think of it, I guess you could liken these symptoms to these people experience when they are lovesick? The effects are stronger for imprinted hybrids, but someone who is lovesick does display similar physical and mental problem, so I guess falling in love with someone is what could be called reverse imprinting."

When his father's voice trails off, Yixing continues to be silent, the words still replaying in his mind, as if he needs to review them thoroughly before they can settle in with him. It's ridiculous, because it's so simple actually, the most simple and obvious explanation and it's laughable that Yixing hasn't been able to connect the dots to form the obvious picture. He's not a child anymore, he has been in love before, he's been through unrequited love, and he's had his heart broken, and he's had a long time where he thought he didn't care about love at all. Summed up, he is familiar with love, but he never thought that love is blind could refer to literally being blind to the fact of being in love in the first place.

Lovesick.

That's it. That's the simple and oh so obvious explanation as for why going on dates with other people made him think of Yifan, why he couldn't sleep at night without the other's comforting warmth by his side and why no matter how much he loves his friends, there's always a part of his heart that feels empty as long as he's in Shanghai and Yifan is in Changsha.

He hears his father's steady breathing through the phone while he's having his epiphany, the old man not interrupting his process of self-awareness with words, although Yixing knows there are questions burning on the tip of his tongue. His father is anything but slow, so Yixing is absolutely sure that he has been able to draw the conclusion between Yixing's question and his silence following the answer. But he doesn't press him to voice what Yixing hasn't even had time to properly process himself yet, not knowing the scope of his realization yet.

"What should I do now?" Yixing asks eventually, skipping back to their original topic of discussing Yifan's state, "He must be doing really bad if you called me."

"He is," his father admits contritely, as if the admission pains him. Yixing knows how much his father cares for the well-being of hybrids, and Yifan is like a second son to him, so being unable to help him with his own power must be eating away at the older man. "I think he hasn't slept for more than perhaps seven hours in five days, and even though he's trying his best to hide it from us, he also hasn't been eating much better. I had to call his workplace today to tell them that he's fallen sick, simply because he didn't want to get out of bed. It's not been nice ever since you went, but it's worse than ever now. You know yourself how much he loves his work, and it is one of the few things that truly gives him energy these days, so him being unwilling to go there... Yixing, I really think something needs to change soon. A hybrid isn't made to be away from the one they imprinted themselves on for so long. Yifan is proud, you know that, so he doesn't want you to know that he's suffering, so it's my duty to let you know."

"What should I do?" Yixing asks again, at the same time already pulling his laptop closer to himself across the bed and opening the price comparison website he always consults for his flights, choosing a travel date of the next day and praying that the flights won't go above the rent he's paying monthly. He lets out a small sigh of relief when the results turn up with flights just barely above 1100 CNY. "I can be home tomorrow at noon, if my boss let's me have the day off tomorrow already, or by 10 p.m. at latest when he doesn't."

"I'm sorry for this being so sudden, but I know you would have been mad if I had waited until the weekend to tell you."

Yixing wants to tell the other that he should have told him earlier already, that he shouldn't have allowed it to come to this point in the first place, but he knows his father, knows that he has inherited his character trait of not wanting to burden other people with anything is one he has strongly inherited from the man. So he bites his tongue, and instead focuses on mentally creating a bullet point list of all the things he needs to organize in order to be able to leave as early as possible the next morning.

♣ Part 3 ♣