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It’s the afternoon when Magnus wakes up, which isn’t nearly enough sleep considering the fact that he only got back at sunrise. The inconsistent schedule is wreaking havoc on his daily life, but he’s more than willing to allow it for the time it gives him with Camille.
Camille isn’t the first vampire he’s ever dated, but he has a feeling that she might be the last - because the love he feels for her runs deep, so much deeper than he imagined it would and so much stronger than he imagined himself capable of. She has her flaws, of course, but who doesn’t? - which is something he often reminds Ragnor and Catarina when they raise the occasional concern over her.
Magnus himself is hardly one to cast the first stone, and Camille knows of his past and loves him just the same. For the first time in his already very long life, Magnus thinks he might’ve found a love that would last as long as he will.
The days, at least the hours he’s awake for them, are split between business and pleasure. He sees his friends, most of whom are not currently living a mostly nocturnal lifestyle, in between taking on clients. The daylight hours are reserved for work and friends, but the nighttime is for Camille.
The nights are for them.
The early evening hours just after the sun has set when the haze of dusk still seems to linger in the dimly lit streets, the late-night hours that feel so black and endlessly empty when Magnus spends them alone but so full of moonlight and hidden beauty and endless potential when he spends them with Camille, to the hours of the night that begin to tilt towards early morning as the rest of the city begins to stir.
While Magnus is with Camille the night feels as if it’s only meant for the two of them and no one else - like they’re the only ones the moon and the stars grace with the comfort of their presence. It’s deep in those thoughts that the sound of her voice reaches him, along with the touch of her hand on his shoulder as she momentarily stops walking.
“Magnus, dearest, what’s going on in that pretty little head of yours?” Her hand moves to card delicate fingers effortlessly through his hair.
“Just thinking about you,” he says honestly. “About us.”
“What about us?” Camille prompts, leaning against him now, into his space. Not that Magnus minds - like anything else he has, he’s more than willing to share his space with her as well.
“About how when I’m with you there simply is no one else,” Magnus says. “Like the rest of the world is hidden behind a glamour, and I only have eyes for you.”
Camille smiles at that, pulling her hand back down and starting to walk again as she replies. “You always did have a way with words, didn’t you?”
Magnus waits for a moment, wondering if she’ll say more, but she doesn’t. Magnus doesn’t mind that either - Camille’s never been one for waxing poetic but she’ll always reassure him when he needs it most, she’s always there during those moments his mind clouds with doubts or uncertainty.
He has none of those now. Only himself and Camille, and their perfect nights together.
“It’s easy when I need only speak the truth,” he says, falling back into step beside her.
The truth that she saved him once, from himself. The truth that he loved her enough to let her go for a short while, but that after she came back to him he vowed to never willingly let her go again.
The truth that true love never dies, and they have all the time in the world to experience it.