What to buy for the Shadowhunter who has everything

Part 6.

"I don't undersssstand the point of your present," said Elyaas. "He isn't even going to know about it? You should have just gone with flowers. Red rosssses are very romantic. Or perhaps tulips if you think roses say you just want him for ssssex."

Magnus lay upon his golden sofa and contemplated the ceiling. The sun was low in the sky, a flash of golden paint inscribed with a careless hand over the New York skyline. The demon's shape had become more and more gelatinous as the day progressed, until he seemed nothing like more than a lurking pile of slime. Possibly Caroline Connor would never come back. Possibly Elyaas was going to live with Magnus now. Magnus always thought Raphael Santiago was the worst possible roommate he could ever have. Possibly he was about to be proven wrong.

He wished, with a profundity of longing that surprised him, that Alec were here.

Magnus remembered a town in Peru whose Quechua name meant "quiet place". He recalled even more vividly being obscenely drunk and unhappy over his heartbreak of that time, and the maudlin thoughts that had recurred to him over the years, like an unwanted guest slipping in through his doors: that there was no peace for such as he, no quiet place, and there never would be.

Except he found himself remembering lying in bed with Alec---all of their clothes on, lounging on the bed on a lazy afternoon, Alec laughing, head thrown back, the marks Magnus had left on his throat very plain to see.

Time was something that moved in fits and start for Magnus, dissipating like mist or dragging like chains, but when Alec was there, Magnus's time seemed to fall into an easy rhythm with Alec's, like two heartbeats falling into sync. He felt anchored by Alec, and his whole self felt restless and mutinous when Alec was not there, because he knew how different it would be when Alec was there, how the tumultuous world would quiet at the sound of Alec's voice.

It was part of the dichotomy of Alec that had caught Magnus unaware and left him fascinated---that Alec seemed too old for his age, serious and responsible, and yet he approached the world with a tender wonder that made all things new. Alec was a warrior who brought Magnus peace.

Magnus lay on the sofa and admitted it to himself. He knew why he had been acting dememted and pestering his friends over a birthday present. He knew why, on an ordinary unpleasant workday, his every thought had been punctuated with a thought of Alec, with insistent longing for him. This was love, bright and new and terrifying.

He had been through a hundred heartbreaks, but he found himself afraid when he thought of Alexander Lightwood breaking his heart. He did not know how this boy with the messy black hair and worried blue eyes, with his steady hands and his rare sweet smile that was less rare in Magnus's presence, had aquired such power over him. Alec hadn't tried to get it, had never seemed to realize that he had it or tried to do anything with it.

Maybe he didn't want it. Perhaps Magnus was being a fool, as he had been so many times before. He was Alec's first experience, not a boyfriend. Alec was still nursing his first crush, on his best friend, and Magnus was a cautious experimentation, a step away from the safety that golden and much-beloved Jace represented. Jace, who looked like an angel: Jace, who, like an angel, lime God himself, would never love Alec back.

Magnus might simply be a walk on the wild side, a rebellion by one if Idris's most careful sons before Alec retreated back into secrecy, circumspection. Magnus remembered Camille, who had never taken him seriously, who had never loved him at all. How much more likely could a Shadowhunter to feel that way?

His gloomy thoughts were interrupted by the sound of the buzzer.

Caroline Connor offered no explanation for her lateness. Indeed, she breezed by Magnus as if he were the doorman, and began immediately to explain her problem to the demon.