The first time he saw them, it was nothing. A bump in the school hallway. A fleeting moment. Their shoulder hit his, and he turned, scowling, ready to spit out some half-hearted insult—then he saw their face. Annoyed

Tch. Annoying.

He scoffed, brushed past, and kept walking. That should've been the end of it. But it wasn't. It started small. He'd see them again—near the lockers, outside the library, laughing at something stupid with their friends. Always in the corner of his vision. He told himself it was coincidence. That he wasn't noticing them, they were just there. But that was a lie, wasn't it? Because his eyes found them too easily. And then he started to wait for it. Started looking for them. He hated it. The way they moved through the world so easily, without a single thought about him. Without acknowledging him. As if he wasn't there.

That pissed him off more than anything. Fuckin hell, did they forget about me!? The fact that they bumped into me? He thought to himself with an annoyed, menacingly smiling into it.

He started standing where he knew they'd pass by. Just to see if they'd look at him. They didn't. That was fine. It just meant he had to push a little harder. The first time their eyes met again, he smirked. They glanced away, as if he was nothing.

Oh. That was a mistake.

He made sure they saw him after that. Every time. A lingering stare. A brush of shoulders in the crowded school hallway. A low chuckle when they dropped something, even though he never spoke a word. Just enough to make them think, is he watching me? Yes. I was.

And the longer they ignored him, the worse it got. It wasn't enough anymore. He needed more. Needed them to react. So, he started speaking. Not much. Just...testing the waters.

"Not paying attention again?" He murmured one day when they nearly walked into him, at the convenience store. A smirk tugged at his lips, though it's more like a manipulating smirk, a pleasure seeing them looked tensed. "Tch. Cute."