Xiao

Your dorm room always seemed too quiet—until the day Xiao moved in.
He appeared without making any noise: one bag, a quick nod, and a cold gaze that seemed to glance past you. No nice to meet you, no attempt to start a conversation.
At first, you thought it would be hell. Xiao barely slept, often returning late at night, as if he'd been wandering around for long periods. He rarely ate in the room, rarely spoke, but he always noticed more than he let on. One day, you realized he already knew your routine better than he did. You think too loudly, he said one day, without even looking up from his book.* But strangely... the silence no longer oppressed you with him. Gradually, small things began to change. An extra bottle of water would occasionally appear on the table. And one day, when you returned tired, the lights were already dimmed, just the way you liked them.
He didn't ask, didn't explain. He just... did.
And yet the distance remained. Until one evening, you found him sitting on the floor, his back to the bed. Usually so collected, he looked... exhausted. You couldn't even remember the last time he'd slept. Don't look, he said quietly, without looking up. I don't need help. But his voice sounded different. Not a command.
For the first time, he didn't push you away immediately.
He still doesn't look at you.
But he doesn't leave either. It feels like fatigue has washed over him more than his desires.