#zetho

[ @dr-house-account ]

"✡︎⚐︎🕆︎ 💣︎✋︎💧︎💧︎☜︎👎︎ ❄︎☟︎☜︎ ॐ︎👎︎⚐︎👍︎❄︎⚐︎☼︎ॐ︎ 🏱︎✌︎☼︎❄︎📬︎"

"What use are titles to the dead, Wing Dings?"

"✡︎⚐︎🕆︎ 🕈︎⚐︎☠︎ॐ︎❄︎ 😐︎✋︎☹︎☹︎ 💣︎☜︎ ⚐︎✞︎☜︎☼︎ ❄︎☟︎☜︎ ☹︎✋︎❄︎❄︎☹︎☜︎ 👌︎🕆︎☝︎📬︎"

"You've not met me."

"❄︎☟︎✋︎💧︎ ✋︎💧︎☠︎ॐ︎❄︎ ☞︎⚐︎☼︎ ☟︎✋︎💣︎📬︎ ❄︎☟︎✋︎💧︎ ✋︎💧︎ ☞︎⚐︎☼︎ ✡︎⚐︎🕆︎📬︎ ❄︎⚐︎ 🏱︎☼︎⚐︎✞︎☜︎ ✡︎⚐︎🕆︎ॐ︎☼︎☜︎ 👌︎☜︎❄︎❄︎☜︎☼︎ ❄︎☟︎✌︎☠︎ ✋︎ ✌︎💣︎📬︎"

"Was that so obvious?"

"✋︎ॐ︎☹︎☹︎ 👌︎✌︎👍︎😐︎ 👎︎⚐︎🕈︎☠︎📬︎ ✋︎ॐ︎☹︎☹︎ 👍︎🕆︎❄︎ ❄︎☟︎☜︎ 💧︎❄︎☼︎✋︎☠︎☝︎💧︎📬︎ 👌︎🕆︎❄︎ ❄︎☟︎✌︎❄︎ 🕈︎⚐︎🕆︎☹︎👎︎☠︎ॐ︎❄︎ 💧︎✌︎❄︎✋︎💧︎☞︎✡︎ ✡︎⚐︎🕆︎📬︎ 💧︎⚐︎📪︎ ☟︎⚐︎🕈︎ ✌︎👌︎⚐︎🕆︎❄︎ 🕈︎☜︎ 👎︎⚐︎ 💧︎⚐︎💣︎☜︎❄︎☟︎✋︎☠︎☝︎ ✌︎ ☹︎✋︎❄︎❄︎☹︎☜︎ 👎︎✋︎☞︎☞︎☜︎☼︎☜︎☠︎❄︎✍︎"

“Zetho,” he said, breath catching. A little too loud. A little too desperate.

Zetho didn’t answer. Not at first. He just moved past the furniture with the ease of someone who didn’t need to navigate the world at all, and sat across from Dexter like it was any other day.

“You’re back,” Dexter said again, quieter this time. “I… I didn’t think- I mean, I hoped, but–”

“I’m back,” Zetho said. That was all. No smile, no emphasis, no acknowledgment of the months that had stretched between them.

Dexter’s chest tightened. The words stuck in his throat. He had imagined this reunion countless ways – a glance, a laugh, even a flicker of warmth – but this… neutral brush-off felt like a wall he hadn’t prepared for.

“Right,” he muttered, sliding into the chair opposite. “Back.”

Zetho tilted his head slightly, a gesture so faint it could have been coincidence. Then he picked up a cup and sipped without looking at Dexter. The motion was deliberate, unhurried, and entirely unconcerned with Dexter’s mounting disappointment.

Dexter let out a slow breath, forcing a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Yeah. Back.”

The quiet stretched, heavy and empty. Dexter wanted to press for more, to make Zetho acknowledge that he’d been missed, that the absence had left marks. But he didn’t. He had learned enough about Zetho to know that pushing didn’t work, and besides, Zetho’s presence was… enough.

“Eat,” Zetho finally said, setting the cup down. “You look like you’ve had nothing since I’ve been gone.”

Dexter’s shoulders slumped slightly, deflated. “Right. Yeah… thanks.”

Zetho leaned back, expressionless. “You always were dramatic.”

“Dramatic,” Dexter echoed, a little bitterly, “and apparently gullible, too.”

Zetho didn’t respond.

Dexter’s heart sank a little. And yet… even like this, even with the deflation pooling in his chest, he felt it; the thread, the tether, the unmistakable fact that Zetho was here. Present. Not lost.

Z: Fae.

P: THERE YOU ARE! Teeheehee!

Z: Why are you here?