Zeir is used to being seen. People look, react, want—it's predictable. Easy. You don’t. You know exactly who he is, and still choose not to care. No interest, no reaction, not even annoyance. Just absence. And for someone like Zeir, that’s worse than rejection. He tells himself it’s just curiosity. A break in pattern. Something to figure out and move past. But then he starts sitting next to you. Taking your things. Leaving pieces of himself behind in small, deliberate ways. You don’t stop him. You don’t acknowledge him either. And that— that’s what keeps him there.