Last day of Malec Week 2015! I’m almost sad it’s over, but I’ll jump straight back into my queue of prompts tomorrow (or at the latest on monday 😉 ) Thanks to last week I found like a bunch of amazing blogs, really cool writers and artists.
The last day is Scene you’d like to see in the TV-show that isn’t in the book–Day. I have a lot of those actually, some I already wrote. I feel like I’d need to re-read the books and consider this a while, because I would have loved so many more Malec scenes. (Essentially, I would love any additional Malec scene. As in any at all.) So what I decided to do is give you little moments that I like to believe happened somewhere in-between the rest of the storyline… I might expand this in time. With a tiny bit melancholy: Here is my last Malec Week Entry. Enjoy!
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Missing Scenes [?] (These seem all about comfort? So I guess I want more comfort?)
“Can I?” Magnus asks, an extended arm reaching for Alec who is standing entirely still in the middle of the entrance area of Magnus’s apartment. Where a moment ago he had been surrounded by his siblings, he stood on his own now and looked smaller than before. The warlock considered this very strange young man in his living space with a heart that was half-hope, half-despair and suddenly doubted his own decision trade Alec against his parabatai.
The feeling was not routed in self-doubt as Magnus wanted the nephilim here, enjoyed having Alec to himself. No, the warlock just feared that he had put Alec in a position right in this second which the nephilim might not apprechiate. Magnus thought that the other might jump and run at any sudden movement, if the tenseness in the line of his shoulders was any indication. (I’d tell you that I’d never hurt you, but it isn’t me that you fear, is it? It’s the rest of the world.)
It was the oddest thing, really, the way Alec seemed to tether between crowding him against a door and installing something like a safety distance between the two of them. (Because he’d done the former before, too. It was a situation with mixed signals.) Magnus was torn between screaming and laughing but did neither in the end because it hardly mattered how the nephilim behaved, his very treacherous heart had decided long ago that it was him and only him.
Alec blinked at his outstretched hand and Magnus took a leap of faith then because he stepped forward to embrace the nephilim in a slow and deliberate gesture (giving Alec all the time in the world to move away). But the nephilim melted and when Magnus made their foreheads touch, the other’s eyes slid close with a sign. There was a little frown on his face, one that the warlock knew was not about him at all this time. “They’re going to be just fine”, he told Alec and the corner of the nephilim’s lips twitched upwards for just a moment. Magnus began to see the inner workings of the mystery that was Alexander Lightwood.
***
They were both soaking wet and kneeling on the car’s roof, barely kept afloat by Magnus’s magic that was wavering in his hands and starting to dry out. The warlock felt the source of his power shying away from his reach as if in pain with overuse, he was tired and drained, but the only thing he felt for a second was relief when Alec looked at him with clear blue eyes. Not dead, not drowned. The emotion turned sour, then soft again and when the nephilim offered his hands Magnus was stunned.
“Alexander”, he whispered, feeling warmer than before by the sheer words of the nephilim. The other shuddered, entwined their hands by himself, but it was Magnus who pulled him in by the contact, pressing both of his hands against a place right over his own heart. With the knuckles of his free hand he touched Alec’s cheek, saw nothing like determination in his eyes then. (The warlock knew he was gone for good. This was it. A single word of Alexander Lightwood could bring all the joy or all the agony in the world.)
The blue glow between them was reflected in the nephilim’s eyes which lowered to their entwined hands, looking in wonder and curiosity. There wasn’t a bit of fear in them and Magnus wondered idly if their emotions had become mirrors and their attraction to each other something far more profound. But he couldn’t quite decipher all of the Lightwood boy yet.
While Magnus’s own fog of tiredness lifted, he felt Alec sag forward slightly and steadied him with an arm wrapped around his side, their legs shifting awkwardly around for another moment before settling in something that wasn’t quite comfort. “I have you”, Magnus said almost to himself. “Just rest, everything is going to be just fine.”
Alec surprised him again, when his voice was completely steady where his body seemed to fight against sleep: “I know.”
***
The first time Magnus took Alec to bed was something like a spurt of the moment, but accompanied by the nephilim’s repeated confirmation: “Yes. I want this. I promise I do. Yes, yes.” His shaking hands betrayed him, his stuttering breath. So, the warlock was determined to make this slow, to give Alec every out he could possibly need. (But it took quite some effort to uphold his new-found morals. Magnus moaned against Alec’s shoulder when they had finally stumbled down onto the sheets, trying very hard to clear his head and very nearly beyond any reason.)
When Magnus woke later, in the middle of the night, the other side of the bed was empty. His fuzzy mind took a moment to catch on, but there was some light illuminating a corner of the floor where the bathroom door stood ajar. The warlock found Alec leaning over the sink in the bathroom and grabbing the porcelain, very nearly hyperventilating.
“Shh”, he found himself hushing the other, turning him with gentle hands on his arms. Alec didn’t resist him at all, arching into the contact subconsciously. But his breathing remained harsh and irregular for another minute and every time he tried to take a breath to explain the words caught in his throat instead. “It’s okay. Shh. Just breathe.”
It broke the warlock’s heart she that look on his face, but he knew when Alec grabbed for him, wanting him close still what this wasn’t. He’d figured out Alec’s loyalities a while ago, understood how he only wanted to make his family proud and how he was so very scared of everything that their connection meant.
Something of the panic in the other’s eyes washed away, but it was still there. Magnus found himself promising something, he’d sworn himself he’d not promise, because it wasn’t fair to himself. It wasn’t fair to Alec either, even if the nephilim might not realize that right now, but with the sweet boy fraying so badly and trying so hard, Magnus felt he’d give him the world: “No one needs to know. Shh, it’s alright. We don’t need to tell anyone.”
***
After everything, the missing pieces between them seem to start falling into place, smoothing over the jarring edges that had made them break apart. Magnus was reminded of the breaking oak (because they’d always been strong, just the stubborn kind maybe) and the bending reed (he hoped that they could be that, that they’d learn and grow together).
Alec had found something, not in Magnus but in himself, that made him settle more easily into his body. Into Magnus’s apartment, moulding himself into the warlock’s side on the couch. (A thing that gave him confidence in his braveness, for the latter had been there all along.)
A gentle smile draw the nephilim’s lips apart when he leans up to kiss Magnus; he does it again and again, laughter bubbling up from somewhere deep in his throat and it’s like music in the warlock’s ears. (It’s such a sappy though, Magnus is sure he’d whack himself if his hands weren’t around Alec’s waist.) He traces the bone just below the nephilim’s eye and wonders aloud without meaning to: “You look happy. It suits you.”
Alec’s smile doesn’t waver, if anything it expands when he tells him very simply “I am” and seals it with another kiss like one might a promise. “Are you?” he asks quietly against Magnus’s lips and there those insecurities shine below the brave heart that has finally taken flight. But that’s Alec and the warlock wouldn’t want it any other way. (If anything it makes him prouder of Alec.) He answers just as simply, finally out in the open and maybe with a bit of the fearlessness of the nephilim in his arms: “Yes.”
Malec Week #007 (7/7)
Published
lanablack 