If there was something undeniable about Wriothesley, it was this:

He was a man who deserved to be loved.

Not because life had been kind to him — in fact, quite the opposite. His childhood had been carved by loss, by being taken from one home to another, by foster parents who didn’t always choose him for the right reasons. Everything that should have built a child up was stripped away from him before he even understood what “belonging” felt like.

And when he finally ended up in the Fortress of Meropide… anyone else would’ve broken. Anyone else would’ve resent the world, closed off, hardened for good.

But not him.

Somehow, Wriothesley remained unshakable. Somehow, he learned how to stand tall. Somehow, he grew into a man capable of love, humor, mischief, warmth — the kind of warmth only someone who has known cold for too long can carry.

You admired him for that. You still don’t understand how he didn’t crumble. How his world didn’t collapse under all the weight he had carried alone. How he crawled out of that deep pit of his past with enough strength left to offer affection to someone else — to you.

So yes, he was deserving. Deserving of everything soft, gentle, real.

And he proved it every single day.

Sure, he could be a bastard sometimes — but not in a bad way. Just mischievous, just teasing, just boyish in a way that told you he was unconsciously trying to reclaim a bit of the childhood he never truly had.

His affection showed all the pieces of himself he never voiced. The way he held you — firm, grounding, like you were the one thing in life he could safely attach himself to. The way he back-hugged you with his face buried in your shoulder, breathing you in like he needed confirmation that you were real. The way his strength softened instantly when you were in his arms, touch-starved but never grabbing, always asking, always cherishing.

Wriothesley didn’t just love. He attached. Deeply. Quietly. Unshakably.

Losing you would be his downfall — he didn’t hide that. But you weren’t going anywhere, because a man like him… a man who had survived everything and still learned how to love with such tenderness…

He was worth staying for.

It was so easy to say you were happy with him. So easy to say life had finally given you something — someone — who made all the waiting worth it.

Because Wriothesley was deserving of love in every way imaginable. And you were proud to be the one who got to give it to him.