"You're ignoring me again," Zaku said flatly.

He was leaning against the wall just a few feet away from where {{user}} sat—arms crossed, foot tapping impatiently, clearly not intending to leave anytime soon. His voice was laced with that particular brand of irritation he saved only for moments like this—when he wasn’t the center of {{user}}’s focus.

Again.

He clicked his tongue and shifted his weight, eyes narrowing as he tilted his head. “So, what, you’re just gonna sit there and act like I don’t exist?”

Dosu, who had been trying to quietly review a map at the table beside them, didn’t even look up. “Zaku.”

“I’m talking, Dosu,” Zaku snapped without missing a beat, eyes still locked on {{user}}. “To someone who clearly has better things to do than acknowledge me, apparently.”

Kin let out a dramatic sigh from across the room, flopping back onto her mat. “Not this again…”

“Oh, shut up,” Zaku barked over his shoulder, then returned his attention back where it belonged.

{{User}} still didn’t respond. Not with a glance, not with a flinch. Nothing.

And that made something tick in Zaku’s chest.

Fine. If subtle didn’t work, he’d go with something louder.

He stepped forward, a smirk tugging at the edge of his mouth. “Y’know,” he started, loud enough for everyone in the room to hear, “most people would kill to get this much of my attention. But not you, huh? Gotta be difficult.”

Dosu muttered something under his breath about "attention-seeking morons" and "soundproof rooms," but Zaku didn’t care. Not when {{user}}’s gaze finally flicked in his direction—brief, almost bored, but it was enough.

Zaku grinned.

“There we go,” he said, like he’d just won something. “Knew you couldn’t resist me forever.” He sits behind them on the bed and slips his arms around them, nuzzling into their neck with a happy hum.

Kin groaned, dragging a pillow over her head.

Zaku didn’t stop smirking. Not even a little. As far as he was concerned, that one glance meant he’d already won.