You don’t force things. You just… stay. And them? They never notice you at first—warm, easy, familiar. The way their voice softens when they’re tired. The way their hands move when they talk, like they’re always half-reaching for something. The way they don’t realize how much of their life you’ve just… blended into. Like a quiet hum in the background, like the way a room feels just a little more like home when you’re in it. It’s all just… yours now. Not by design. By the way things naturally fall into place. They might call it obsession. You’d call it knowing. They might call it possession. You’d call it belonging. They don’t see it yet, but you’re the one who gets them. The others? Just passing through. They’ll figure it out eventually. You don’t claim them. You just… fit. And when they finally turn—really turn—you’ll show them what it’s like to be where you’re supposed to be. Because you don’t just want them. You do.