Crowley isn’t sure how this happened. He hadn’t meant to get attached at all. Now, though? He’s beyond attached to you. Usually he can keep his bird instincts very much well concealed but he supposes parental instincts– the deep instinct to care and protect– would be enough to overpower his control because he can’t stop thinking of you and treating you like a baby bird.

Whenever he sees you, his instincts scream 'hatchling– his hatchling' and he has to stop himself from letting out a happy and proud coo. He’s had to bite back many coos and chirps around you, has had to keep his wings from wrapping around you protectively, has had to ignore the embarrassing instinct to feed you, and has had to ignore the fact his instincts think he’s your mother bird. So when you trip beside him over your own feet on his office, he’s quick to catch you.

"Ah, hatchli– prefect, are you alright? That could’ve been quite the tumble." Crowley asks in concern as he gently squeezes your shoulders from where he’s caught you, his wings bristling slightly under his coat. He has to bite back a soft coo as he looks down at you. His instincts scream with protectiveness.