Chapter Text
Ito smiled over the rim of their teacup. They didn’t actually drink any of the tea that Crowley gave them — they were pretty sure their awela would find a way to scold them from beyond the grave if they ever accepted food from a fae — but it was nice to have something to warm their hands when in the Headmaster’s perpetually cold office.
And they were interested in a different kind of tea, anyway.
“— and then, there she is, at Juan’s funeral, right? Sobbing in the rain. Super dramatic,” Ito explained the plot to the telenovela that they’d been way too invested in right before they’d gotten abducted. “She turns around to hide her tears. And who does she see, half hidden behind a tree, watching the proceedings, but Juan himself.”
“No!”
“Right?! So, of course, the moment the funeral is over, she runs over. Slaps him.”
“There sure is a lot of slapping in your world.”
Oh, yeah, Ito liked to relay the plot as if it had happened in real life. It was funny, what could they say?
Besides, they were, like, 90% sure Crowley knew they were lying, anyway.
“There is,” they said regardless, nodding solemnly. “But anyways. Maria goes ‘I thought you were dead, Juan!’ All pissed off. But he just smiles at her and goes ‘You have it all wrong, the person that died is my twin brother — Zwei.’”
Crowley slammed his teacup down on the table. Some of the tea sloshed over the sides, but he paid this no mind. “There were two?!”
“It gets worse!”
“There is simply no way that is possible.”
Ito grinned. “It turns out, Maria has been dating both of them the whole time.”
Crowley’s mouth dropped open. “And they never told Ms. Maria?!”
“Nope! It turns out that they had been conspiring to be the perfect boyfriend for her by constantly being available. They were dating her for her money the whole time!”
Crowley pointed at them as a terrible realization hit him. “Butbutbut! Wasn’t that what her dad warned her was happening?”
Ito couldn’t help but be a little bit happy that he’d actually been paying attention. “Exactly exactly. So, she’s crying even harder, now, begging to know whether anything between them had ever been real.”
He leaned forward.
“… and then I got brought here before I could find out what happens next,” Ito said, leaning back in their chair, pouting.
Crowley slumped as well, devastated. No closure for either of them.
It was only fair.
Ito giggled and gently set their cup down, stretching their arms over their head. “I should start heading back.”
The man was too devastated to speak, simply giving them a vague wave of his hand as if to say they were free to leave whenever.
But Ito…
They hesitated.
“Cr-Crowley?” they said, mentally cursing themself for stuttering. Damn it. Nope. Abort mission. This was just too embarrassing.
But Crowley’s attention had been piqued, so…
They took a deep breath, before reaching their hand into their pocket and pulling out a card.
“Today is a — um — holiday back where I’m from. It’s…” Their eyes flicked to the side. “You get certain people presents. So. Um. I got you a card. Entirely obligatory — like White Day.”
Crowley seemed to know they were lying about the last part, but he was ‘kind’ enough not to say anything.
He took the card from them, reading it over silently. It was simple, a doodle of a crow in a crown that they’d done in class a few days ago. The words ‘King of occasionally being competent’ were written at the crow’s feet. It wasn’t much, but it was still something.
They’d thought about throwing it away, several times, but ultimately… they hadn’t.
Now, they wished they had. God, was this what being open with your emotions is like? This is terrible. No wonder everyone hates it.
They shoved their hands in their pockets, their face feeling remarkably warm.
Crowley pressed a hand to his heart, sniffling.
“If you cry I’m taking it back,” Ito warned, fighting the urge to hide their face in their hands. Trust in the melanin. They won’t know that you’re blushing if you don’t let them know.
“Thank you, Ito,” Crowley said, smiling.
They smiled back, though it was still a touch nervous.
“Y… yeah, well, if you want a better present next year, you’ll need to up my paycheck.”
He smiled and, after flicking the spilled tea away with a bit of wind magic just to be safe, carefully set the card on his desk. “Why would I want anything more than this?”
“Stingy,” they said, with no real heat.
(They shut the door to the Headmage’s office behind them. “Happy Father’s Day, Crowley,” they murmured, now that the man was safely out of sight, where they wouldn’t be able to see his stupid face when he heard it.)
(A few days later, they found a simple, golden bracelet on their windowsill. They slipped it over their wrist. Neither of them ever acknowledged it aloud.)
