Invictus

Misunderstanding

Alec did the only thing he knew how to do when he was feeling down: he buried himself in his work. It came as a welcomed distraction when Lily - who was much better than he was at finding them regular customers because she had much better people skills than he did - scored them a big contract with a few hotels in the area.

If it made him come to work earlier and get back home later, so be it.

The further away he was from the lately cold and lonely walls of his apartment, the better.

It was a Wednesday and he arrived an hour before their opening hours, immediately starting on the few customers’ orders they had gotten. He made his best not to scratch his right side when an unpleasant itching sensation shot through his ribs.

Magnus had warned him it might happen, that it was the aftermath and logical result of his body healing, but he had never told him how bad it would be.

His heart tightened at the thought of Magnus, and he heaved out. He tried his best not to let his head jerk toward the window every time he heard the sound of a bike driving down the street, but he had learned to recognize the one Magnus’ Ducati Scrambler made in the three months they had known each other, and none of the engine noise that reverberated through the street that morning was the one of Magnus’ bike.

When he went to open the door for customers, he was surprised to find a woman standing behind the door.

She was quite tall, with light bronze skin and piercing almond-shaped brown eyes, her long, dark hair falling in waves over her shoulders and her back. She smiled at him through the window of the door, her lips tugging at one corner, and he was struck with an overwhelming sensation of familiarity that he urgently pushed to the back of his mind.

He was trying to get over Magnus, and clearly doing a poor job at it if he started seeing him in every stranger that came to his shop.

“Good morning,” he said when she walked into the shop, turning his back to her to get back to the counter. “How can I help -” he started, freezing when the unmistakable sound of Magnus’ bike resonated all the way through his ears, “- you?” he finished, blinking out of his daze.

She sent him a smile and walked towards the counter with deliberate steps. She stopped right in front of him and for a while, she didn’t talk. She tilted her head to the side, another familiar gesture that made him curse inwardly, and scrutinized him quietly, her deep, brown eyes drifting on his face like they would on an open book.

Alec gulped, resisting the urge to squirm on his feet. “Ma’am?”

“You are very handsome,” she said, and before he could thank her and politely inform her that he very much liked dicks, and one particular dick, although he hadn’t gone that far yet, she added, “I can see why my son has been buying so many flowers lately.”

Alec frowned, confused, and went with the most eloquent way to reply, which was to arch an eyebrow and squint one eye in puzzlement.

“My son,” she said, in a tone that sounded like it should have been self-explanatory. “He’s been buying me a whole lot of flowers lately and… I mean, they’re very nice. You doing a fantastic job, darling but between you and I, I like flowers but not that much.”

Alec was starting to think he was missing something, something crucial with that, and more importantly, he had a feeling he knew exactly what was going on, and a slow, creeping sensation of dread sent a long shiver down his spine.

“Y-Your son?” he managed to stammer.

“Yeah, Magnus,” she said, and his heart sunk in his chest. “He owns the tattoo parlor next door. Haven’t you met him?”