#crowely

crowley doesn't realize he's fallen in love with you until it's far too late to do anything about it. the problem is that attachment sneaks up on him gradually, disguised as responsibility. after all, you are his responsibility. the prefect of ramshackle dorm. the unfortunate soul he personally dragged into countless disasters under the guise of being a "kind and benevolent headmage." naturally he keeps an eye on you. naturally he worries when you're in danger. naturally he checks in after every overblot incident. those things are perfectly normal. in fact, they are expected.

at least, that's the explanation he gives himself for a very long time. the issue arises when those concerns begin extending beyond his duties. he finds himself wondering whether you've eaten lunch. whether you're sleeping enough. whether you're taking proper care of yourself between classes. he starts remembering little details about conversations that should have been insignificant. a passing comment about your favorite food. a story about your family. a hobby you miss from your old world. somewhere along the way, concern becomes fondness. fondness becomes attachment. and attachment becomes something he's entirely unprepared to confront.

the realization doesn't happen all at once. instead, it arrives in pieces. he notices that his day improves whenever he runs into you unexpectedly. he notices that nrc feels strangely empty whenever you're away from campus. he notices that he looks forward to your complaints more than he should. even your exasperated sighs and sarcastic remarks somehow become endearing. crowley spends years surrounded by students, faculty, and endless responsibilities, yet somehow you become the person whose opinion matters most. the person whose praise lingers. the person whose disappointment stings. for perhaps the first time in a very long while, someone stops treating him solely as the mysterious headmage and starts treating him as a person.

annoying? absolutely. embarrassing? without question. yet he treasures it more than he would ever admit aloud. the problem is that acknowledging those feelings means acknowledging something else as well. something he has spent years carefully avoiding. you were never meant to stay. from the moment you arrived in twisted wonderland, the goal has always been getting you home. every investigation. every lead. every possibility. has pointed toward the same outcome. one day, you'll leave. that truth does not truly hit him until he overhears you talking about your family.

it's an ordinary conversation. you're speaking to one of the first years about home, reminiscing about things you miss. the food. the people. the places. crowley should be happy. he should feel relieved knowing you have not given up hope. instead, a strange feeling settles heavily in his chest. because for the first time, he allows himself to imagine what success looks like. success means finding a way home. success means watching you step through a portal. success means seeing you smile because you're finally returning to the people you've spent years missing. success means losing you.

the realization nearly steals the breath from his lungs. suddenly, all the little things he has grown accustomed to feel fragile. ramshackle's lights glowing in the distance at night.running into you around campus. hearing you argue with grim. watching you grow alongside the students who have become your family. he has become so focused on helping you that he never stopped to consider how much your absence would hurt. and the worst part is that he can't even resent the outcome. he wants you to go home. he wants you to be happy. he wants you to see your family again. yet every time he imagines that future, there is an unmistakable ache in his heart.

after that, everything changes. not outwardly. crowley is far too skilled at hiding his emotions for that. he still smiles. still jokes. still acts every bit the eccentric deadbeat headmage everyone expects. yet privately, he begins collecting moments. every conversation becomes something precious. every smile becomes something he memorizes. every complaint, every laugh, every ridiculous ramshackle disaster becomes another memory he quietly stores away. he never intends to confess.in his mind, that would be selfish. what right does he have to burden you with feelings when your future lies elsewhere?

so instead he loves you silently. patiently. he tells himself that seeing you happy is enough. then one evening he finds himself standing outside ramshackle dorm watching the warm glow of the windows. inside, he can hear you laughing with grim. such a simple sound. such an ordinary moment. yet suddenly he realizes that somewhere along the way, ramshackle stopped being a rundown abandoned dormitory. it became home. not because of the building itself, but because you were there.