genre: friendship, pining, angst, hurt/comfort (if you squint)
rating: general audience
word count: 1.7k
You had been happily surprised at how swiftly the Sorcerer Supreme had drawn you into his life. Barely three weeks ago, a chance meeting in the compound sauna, moments of soft vulnerability shared there, the beginning of an unexpected friendship. Why me, you had often wondered since that evening. You were nothing special among the ranks of those who dwelled in Kamar-Taj, yet somehow Stephen Strange found your company pleasant enough, your conversations interesting enough, to ask for more.
That evening had led to regular evening tea and conversations—on an astonishingly wide range of topics—on those nights when he wasn’t ranging far across the globe or multiple dimensions, fulfilling his duties as humanity’s staunchest, most dutiful, defender. All too soon you began to miss him when he was away. And worry for his safety. Not that you could speak of such feelings to him. The balance between you was strictly platonic, and mentor to student—transforming the crush you had harbored for months and months into a bittersweet secret you needed to guard more religiously than any secret of your life.
