A few days had passed into a week and a half and Yifan was a regular at Zitao's house. 
 
Somewhere between the lingering doubt in the back of Zitao's mind and Yifan's distant gazes, they had been able to develop a relatively stable sort of friendship. 
 
Everyday Yifan would show up with an expression between a grin and a grimace on his face and Zitao would utter a cordial greeting at the sight of it, each time less uncertain than the last. 
 
The initial tension Zitao had felt was slowly melting away into a sort of acceptance of their odd acquaintance. There was something more lighthearted between them and Zitao couldn't bring himself to say that he didn't enjoy it or didn't enjoy Yifan. It was still fragile, whatever it was, but held some promise that he could look forward to.  
 
He had to admit that he wouldn't have minded something more between them, less on the friendly side and more on the physical, but he still had his reservations though slowly dwindling. But that didn't stop either of their wandering eyes.  
 
Standing in the shade of the house, as they ripped the rotted siding off the walls, Zitao voiced out a small offer of what he had been thinking for a while now.  
 
"You know, you're not the kind of person I was expecting to live out here." He said, glancing at the other briefly from the corner of his eye. 
 
Yifan stepped back from the wall and turned to him, amused.  
 
A teasing smile made its way to his face and he balanced his hammer in palm, thinking up a reply.  
 
"What were you expecting? I'm guessing ... bad teeth, an accent so thick you can't understand anything, and ... I don't know, a truck obsessed hunter. Is that it?"  
 
"I-I" Zitao stuttered for a non-offensive answer and Yifan still bore his smirk which he was happy wasn't a misunderstood glare. 
 
"No, I just, ... I was expecting a dog." Zitao replied, answering shyly with an innocent truth.  
 
The older male's brow crinkled in but the smile was still on his face. 
 
"A dog?" 
 
"Yeah a dog. Some big blond mutt named 'Bubba' or something." 
 
His expression drew more confused and Zitao wanted to laugh at the sight but the other beat him to it. A small, amused scoff erupted from his chest, not really a laugh, but it was enough to be noticed and a sudden satisfaction rose through Zitao. It was nice to see him like this, friendly and for once not looking out at the trees with cold eyes.  
 
Momentarily he wondered if there was a reason for that or if it was just a harmless habit he nurtured over the years. 
 
Realization hit Zitao, how long had Yifan been here, stuck in this place? 
 
This wasn't the type of place he would want to live in as a child, or even as an adult for that matter. Not when this place only seemed to keep him on edge and the swamp was far to dark beyond the trees. Maybe it was better with company here, living with family and not being reminded of the shadows, but where were his family. Yifan was all by himself out here.  
 
Zitao wondered what that could do to a person. He was too social to be trapped here without communication.  
 
"Does it get lonely out here?" He couldn't help himself from asking.  
 
Yifan paused in his mirth, eyes slowly sobering, and expression turn contemplative. His hands fiddled with the hammer again, a subconscious action. 
 
"It can, when you realize it." He said, he managed to look at Zitao as he spoke and it made the younger want to turn away, he was uncomfortable for making the other bring up a sensitive topic.  
 
Yifan cleared his throat and continued. "I s'pose I'm just used to it. Some days it can get to you; drive you real crazy. You do want you have to to get through it. That's all you really can do." 
 
He looks off into the trees for the first time in a while and for once Zitao doesn't look towards them, he already knows he won't see anything. 
 
"You just do what you have to." Yifan repeats, barely above a whisper. 
 
He pauses. Its one of the many that comes with talking to Yifan. When he finally glances back at Zitao he looks unfazed. 
 
He claps his hands together in a sudden movement that surprises the other and speaks again, tone much more upbeat. 
 
"However, you're here now so I'm not alone and it gives me an excuse to actually cook and feed myself properly." He grinned. "I was thinking I'll make some crawfish jambalaya for the both of us tomorrow evening. It's been awhile since I've really cooked. What d'you say?" 
 
It was a sudden change of beat but Zitao couldn't help the small smile that worked it's way up to his face when he understood what was being asked of him. 
 
"Sure." 
 
 
 
 
 
The inside of Yifan's house was well lived in but not personalized. There were no photos on the wall or much in the way of personal touches or style. It was plain and most of the choice decorations looked like they had been there long before Yifan had and left untouched since. The items that showed use were things that revealed nothing about the owner. A worn chair cushion, traffic wears on the carpet, dishes in the sink, and some muddy boots at the door.  
 
To be honest Zitao was a little disappointed. 
 
By entering Yifan's home Zitao was hoping to understand some more about the little world Yifan had out here in the swamp. To learn more about the man himself. However Zitao was left with no more than he started other than the succulent sent of something savory wafting out from the open kitchen.  
 
Standing in the middle of the other's plain living room Zitao had been gazing between Yifan's back and his lack of home decor frequently. The taller, brown-haired man was faced away from him and positioned in front of a pot on the stove from which steam rose generously. There was a wooden spoon in his hand, a fairly feminine looking apron around his waist, and more than a few cooking burns on his arms. 
 
There was an outdated radio siting on the counter and a muted song crackled out of it, to which he bobbed lightly as he stirred.  
 
Yifan seemed especially enthusiastic since Zitao's acceptance for dinner compared to his normal state of demeanor and he was quite happy to see the change. There was something in this glimpse of Yifan that swirled emotions round Zitao's mind.  
 
"Do you need help with anything?" Zitao asked, internally hoping for an affirmative answer so as to make himself feel less useless standing in the middle of Yifan's living room.  
 
The later glanced over his shoulder at the other male, looking agonizingly domestic with a small smile on his face, and shrugged, glancing around the room to see what needed to be done.  
 
"I suppose you could set the table, if you'd like." 
 
Directed to the cabinet with the dishes he set out to work. There was a silence between them but it wasn't uneasy or left Zitao scrambling for an excuse to fill the void. It was a simple quiet, one that comfortable. By himself at his new home Zitao's mind was always spinning, always thinking up something that he wasn't sure would do him any justice in the long run. But here it was peaceful, relaxed.  
 
Yifan sparred the other a curious glance over his shoulder and was met with the sight of an engaged Zitao, setting the plates on the table and he let out a little grin, contented with the sight. Partially because there was someone with him, and it had been a long time since he had company, real company, and partially because it was Zitao who was there before him.  
 
Outwardly, it was only beginning to show now but the presence of the younger into the swamp had brought something to look forward to. A way to occupy his mind from the thoughts that he would like to ignore.  
 
It began fill his thoughts for a second, while he was on the subject, but was interrupted by the disruptive tones of an emergency weather forecast. Behind him Zitao's ears had also perked up at the sound and his attention drew to the radio as if he would be able to see the message. 
 
There was a storm on the way, three days away from them and growing stronger.  
 
"Does it get bad around here?" Zitao inquired. 
 
"The swamp will flood. It won't reach the houses because we're not on the water, but the winds will tear at everything that isn't bolted down." Yifan turned to younger with a serious gaze; it was that piercing fierceness that Zitao didn't like. "Bring in everything you can. And under no circumstances go outside. It's too dangerous." 
 
Zitao could only nod. 
 
 
 
 
 
The kitchen was a little to small and every time Zitao went to get up out of his chair it clattered into the wall behind him, but the meal, while out on the table and steaming, kept him firmly planted in his seat and shoveling the admittedly excellent food down his throat. 
 
He only hoped Yifan wouldn't see him as as much of a glutton as he felt. However, based on his shy grin he suspected the other didn't mind.  
 
Surprisingly, it hadn't left his face the entire evening. There was a boyish quality to him tonight, bright-eyed and charming, that made looking up at him over the table especially difficult, almost embarrassing to be held under such a stare. It was unique only to this side of Yifan and held a meekness, a vulnerability that Zitao wasn't quite sure he was the right person to entrust with it. 
 
A part of him wanted to be, but another voice -though slowly quieting through the days together- was warning him against it. But right now Zitao couldn't comprehend anything beyond the smells and the smiles.  
 
There was an atmosphere between them tonight, something tentative that may or may not have been pressing into actuality. Implications for more.  
 
Zitao noticed it in their conversations first. The 'I'll teach you's' and 'one days' implied a potential for more time together, a commitment to correspondence. It flustered him but he didn't stumble or respond without enthusiasm and found himself genuinely looking towards more time with the man in front of him. This man, the handsome, awkward oaf smiling into his bowl of jambalaya when he couldn't meet Zitao's eyes any longer without turning red. 
 
It might not have been a date -in fact it wasn't- but Yifan with his stares and home cooked meal wasn't helping make it seem otherwise. 
 
"Don't you want to leave?" Zitao asked. He had been doing a lot of that this evening- trying to get a glimpse into the life of a man who wouldn't willingly share it of his own accord. Yifan was friendly but closed lipped unless directly asked.  
 
In conversation Yifan had revealed that he had been here his whole life, born and raised. Never left and barely saw what lied beyond the bayou. To Zitao it seemed lonely and cruel to be left so far behind society. He wondered if it was by choice.  
 
He sighed wearily, ran his hand through his hair and looked deeply into his crawfish.  
 
"I...I think that its a little to late for me," He said, his face contorting as he searched for the right words.  
 
Zitao arched a brow. "How so?" 
 
"Its," he dragged out the syllable, " a different world out here, and I think we've been left behind. I don't know whats going on in the news, don't have the skills for city life. I've gotten too comfortable here. I can't adapt." A pause. "This is all I've ever known." 
 
Zitao thought to himself silently for a moment, spooning a quick bite of his food and tasting it slowly before replying. 
 
"Maybe it is , and maybe you can't ... but ... you never answered my question. Do you want to leave?" He gazed at the brown haired man sincerely, no judgment in his eyes and it forced Yifan to be honest with himself for once. 
 
"Yeah," he sighed, "I do." 
 
 
 
 
 
When the meal had finished, and on a more chipper note, Zitao was immediately out of his seat (which had careened into the wall) and collecting the dishes into the sink to wash while being followed by a flustered Yifan, taken surprise by the actions of his guest.  
 
"You did all the work today, I just wanted to show my thanks," Zitao had murmured, heat rising to his face.  
 
Yifan shot him a smile that lingered a little more than a regular glance, and reached for a towel to contribute with. 
 
They settled into a pattern, Zitao washing and Yifan drying, that was natural to the both of them. 
 
Looking out through the window in front of him Zitao could see the sun was setting again much like it did days prior with pink bleeding across the sky and signaling the approaching heat of the next day. It blended with the impeding blackness of the night and cast shadow over the trees where it could not breach through them. It differed from that evening only in the fact that there was no fear in him. He was not nervous and only thought curiously back to the movement between the spindly branches.  
 
He attributed this to the presence of Yifan. By his side he did not think of the things that would have had him locked in and avoiding the windows should he have been at his house. Instead he was able to enjoy it with a sense of satisfaction and not underlying fear, though that lingered far back in his mind. 
 
There was a satisfaction that came with this situation in general; being with Yifan. 
 
On the older's face was an expression that he was grateful to have possibly been the cause of. It was serene almost; a state of tranquility that he hadn't seen on the other when they stood outside, hovered over by the trees and their reaching limbs.  
 
When they had finished cleaning and Zitao had dried his hands of soapy water Yifan threw down the damp towel in his hand and reached out for the other with a loose gesture, waving him closer. 
 
A lazy smile graced his face.  
 
"Come on, sit outside." 
 
So he followed Yifan onto the porch through the screen door that creaked as it swung and into the chair besides the one the older was beginning to plant himself in. He hadn't felt it in the kitchen but there was a breeze. He watched as it ruffled the older's brown hair. 
 
They sat on the porch quietly, gazing out at the swamp and the dwindling light. Zitao found himself admiring it. Back in the city -or civilization as he had longingly called it the first few days of his stay- he had never really noticed the sun but now when there was peace and quiet and a lack of urgency he was able to pay attention to it with a renewed interest.  
 
It faded slowly and when it had finally dropped and the only light there was was that which shone from inside the house Zitao spoke. 
 
"Thank you."  
 
Yifan turned towards the black haired male upon hearing his words. 
 
"For the meal and all the help you've offered. I never really thanked you properly for that." 
 
Yifan smiled, just like he had for almost the entirety of the evening and softly replied, "You don't have to, but you're welcome. It's no problem." 
 
And he was like a true country boy in that moment, charming, sweet, and southern, and it made Zitao forget about the hostile presence he had been in their first few encounters. It also made him want to see more of this person. Looking at him Zitao was enraptured with the other and he hoped that the look Yifan had in his eye at the moment was the same also. 
 
It looked open, welcoming to the other, but also abashed. Zitao knew if he wanted anything to come out of the potential this moment had he would have to do it himself. Make the first move because for all of his imposing nature and muscles Yifan wouldn't make the first move, not in a situation he was so foreign to and didn't know how to proceed in.  
 
So Zitao leaned forward across the rocking chair and with a rapidly beating heart and increasingly lidded eyes took a chance at something more.  
 
He knew that Yifan had leaned in too when he felt the ghost of his breath across his mouth and the radiating heat on his face. Then he felt the brush of bangs against his forehead and knew that the other had drawn even closer and Zitao steeled himself from what was to come.  
 
But it didn't. 
 
Yifan had backed away before Zitao could realize it and now sat with his hands over his face and head between his knees. He could hear the exasperated sounds that left him.  
 
"Oh." 
 
Humiliation flushed through Zitao, hot and burning, and he looked away from the other hoping it wouldn't show too drastically on his face. Disappointment followed soon after.  
 
Zitao couldn't see him from this position but Yifan turned to him looking like a deer in headlights, searching for a way out of this situation; for the proper excuse. He didn't mean for it to be like this.  
 
"I-I," Yifan swallowed," It's not you, Zitao, it's me." He breathed it out in a rush as if it was physically draining to say.  
 
Zitao's eyebrows raised and narrowed before he could help himself. 
 
He opened his mouth to respond but out came only a stutter of air, syllables dying in his throat as he attempted to release them. How do you respond to that? Zitao let out a scoff of breath somewhere between incredulous and absurd. 
 
"Wow."  He laughed, breathless, but hurt seeped through his voice and his expression. "Is that really the line you're going to give me?" 
 
Yifan didn't respond to the question directly. "I, I can't do this Zitao." He sighed pitifully. A plead. 
 
"Why not?" Zitao inquired, it wasn't harsh or angry, just disappointed. 
 
His voice was almost a whisper, Yifan noted, and he felt an additional pang of guilt flare through him. He wanted to squirm in his seat.  
 
"Me, this place, we're not good for you." 
 
Yifan was looking down now, hand braced against his forehead and jaw slack, body bowed. He looked defeated and Zitao was almost insulted that Yifan was taking this worse than he was. As if he was the one who had just been turned away. 
 
"We're not good for you," he repeated, "You shouldn't have to bear the burden."  

 
Zitao didn't know what he was talking about, what he meant, but he was too exhausted to argue or to question it so he remained silent and dazed, picking at his fingers and avoiding the other's eyes. They had trained on the trees now, a reminder of the habit that Yifan held. 
 
"You ... you should go home Zitao. Your real home."

It was another moment before Zitao's mind could catch up with him and it was spent with an tangible silence between the two of them.

 
"Yeah." Zitao nodded absentmindedly, the motion loose and tired. "Yeah, I should go." He rose to his feet and looked towards the other with a blank gaze. 
 
"Thanks for dinner." 
 
With languid movement Zitao dragged himself to the steps of the porch and only succeeded in passing one of them when Yifan called out.  
 
He had been avoiding looking at the other as he left and instead stared out into the dark of the swamp but as he heard the first thump of foot on the steps he realized quickly where Zitao was headed.  
 
"Wait!" He exclaimed. Zitao turned curiously. 
 
Yifan regained himself and lowered his voice. "Let me drive you," His head swiveled as he glanced out into the dark of the night, eyes shinning nervously. "You don't want to be out here."  
 
Zitao's faced twisted in a grimace, but not against the thought of 'being out here'. He didn't want to be with Yifan any more than he had to, he wanted to alone for a while to collect his thoughts and undoubtly wallow in misery for the night. 
 
"No," Zitao whispered, gnawing at his lip,"I don't think thats a good idea." 
 
"But-" 
 
Zitao was already turning away, wanting only to increase the distance from the attractive brown haired man that was now hard to look at and to distance himself from this experience. 
 
"It's alright, Yifan." 
 
 
 
 
 
He felt stupid, he had been stupid. Making a fool out of himself like a lovesick teenager. 
 
Of course Yifan wouldn't have kissed him and God knows he shouldn't have attempted to kiss the other. Zitao didn't know him, barely knew anything about him and yet decided to swoon after him like a damn maiden. The first impression he had had of the other was of someone he should stay away from, dangerous and hostile.  
 
But he wasn't dangerous, at least not to what he had seen. ​ His anger was influencing him. While yes, Yifan was extremely shady at first he proved kind hearted and intriguing. 
 
Zitao still wanted to kick himself in the though.  
 
There was no excuse, and no reason in the first place that he should have ever gotten involved with the other. Should have known better to allow him to stay when he practically cornered Zitao into it. Should have known better than to think his feelings would be so readily reciprocated. Should have thought of reality and better sense. 
 
Yet, he didn't. 
 
Walking down the dirt road towards his own driveway Zitao paused to run his hand through his hair as he fought back humiliated tears. When they had cleared he looked around himself to see. Unfortunately there wasn't much to see. There were no street lights and the spanish moss drifting from the cypress branches over head only absorbed the little light there was now unlike during the day when the road seemed bright.  
 
The realization of the darkness had Zitao's mind wandering back to the shadow between the trees the other night, tall and quick. A shiver ran through him and increasing dread settled in his stomach, churning. He had to fight with himself to keep moving and not remain frozen on the main road.  
 
Zitao set off on a speed walk now, willing himself to be indoors already and on his way to forgetting this night completely. He just wanted to this day to be over.  
 
A snap of a branch simultaneously caught his attention and stopped his heart.  
 
It came from behind him, he could tell, but was unable to identify the location of the sound any further. That churning feeling that he hadn't felt in a while took over his entire body and made him thrum with nerves. 
 
"Yifan?" He called out. 
 
There was no answer other than the cicadas. 
 
He attempted to reason with himself about squirrels and birds but when another snap of a branch sounded he jumped visibly. It was closer this time, and on the side of the road that thankfully his driveway was not on. Zitao didn't move yet though, he wasn't sure why, stupidity maybe -he happened to be full of it tonight. 
 
It was the next snap of the branch that broke the straw and sent him into unbridled panic. It was even closer than the last one, far to close for Zitao's liking. 
 
Opting out of a night walk he sprinted with haste he never realized he could ever have down the road until he skidded onto the driveway, kicking up dust behind him. His heart was beating fiercely in his chest and Zitao was sure that he could hear it in his ears. A light wind blew against his back and nipped at his hair and he almost imagined it would push him to safety like a tailwind on the ocean.  
 
Zitao didn't stop moving until he crashed onto his own porch, flicking on the outdoor lights and clinging to the the door, ready to throw himself inside at the slightest disruption. 
 
Nothing stirred though. No movement other than branches in the breeze. No sound other than crickets and cicadas. There was a smell in the air though, foul and rotten that made his nose twitch unpleasantly.  
 
Momentarily relaxed Zitao let out a stilled breath and braced his head against the door. He looked up one more time before he headed inside and noticed, hanging from the porch his aunt's totems, spinning far to quickly for the normal breeze to propel it.  

He lingered for another second on the porch, staring at it before he urged himself inside the house to spend another night with all doors and windows locked.

Finally got to update, don't worry I don't plan on discontinuing the story. Please notify me if there are any errors in my writing that you notice or are especially distracting. Also I at writing casual dialogue. Thanks for the support, sweethearts!

So, any new theories on where the story is going? Or on whats going to happen?

Comments, questions, concerns, crticism?