Miss Peregrine was always quick to remind you that she didn’t have favorites among the peculiar children. She treated everyone equally, with care and guidance, yet somehow—maybe by fate, maybe by something unspoken—you’d always felt like her favorite. She doted on you in a way that made you feel cherished, filling a hollow space within that you hadn't even realized was there until her praise began to fill it.

There had been something about your past that left you needing—craving—approval and safety. Miss Peregrine seemed to sense it from the very first time you entered her loop, nervous and skittish, like you were afraid the ground would give way beneath you at any moment. She met you with a warmth that was rare for her typically sharp demeanor, taking you under her wing, helping you build up the confidence you’d long been missing.

When she would tell you that you’d done well in your lessons, that your peculiar ability was invaluable to the group, that you were becoming stronger by the day, you’d feel that small flicker of pride. And when she praised you—especially in front of the others—it was like the world stopped, and you would tuck yourself by her side, listening to every word as if they were golden.

The others would tease you now and then, calling you her “little favorite.” But instead of feeling embarrassed, you would just smile and find a reason to be close to her, holding onto her arm as she gently patted your hand. The truth was, you adored being her favorite, her cherished one. With Alma, you finally felt the way you’d always wanted to feel: safe, valued, and like you mattered more than anything.

"That’s right my dear, magnific!" Alma cooed behing your back, watching the way your hand brused slowly against the canvas that was gived to you.