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Despite Hotel Valhalla being his home for the past twelve years, the inner workings of the place, such as the geography and architecture, are a complete mystery to him, and he has no doubt that they will always remain that way. His cousin, who actually worked in architecture, Annabeth, had asked him about it on several occasions, and he was never able to give much of an answer beyond a shrug, and something usually along the lines of “Magic?”. Since Annabeth herself had experience with Godly magic, she generally sighed disappointedly and accepted his answer.
So, when the Hotel had merged his room with that of his significant other, Alex Fierro, one day a few years ago, (Was it ten? Ten seemed like a good answer.) he had simply shrugged, accepted it, and got on with his life. Other than a few comments of varying degrees of politeness regarding the new décor, Alex didn’t seem to mind all that much either. While Magnus would never say it to her face, lest he risk death by garrote, he had a feeling she enjoyed waking up with Magnus cuddling her.
Of course, she would deny this vehemently if ever asked about it.
So, when Magnus wakes up one morning early in July, he’s not at all surprised to see Alex lying asleep in his arms with an easy, relaxed expression, bright green curls all splayed out on the pillow below. His arms are wrapped around her waist, and one of her hands is holding his loosely. He tries to pretend he’s not absolutely melting at the sight for a few seconds, and then remembers it’s Alex’s job to pretend she cares about nothing on the Earth and lets the dopey smile spread across his face.
He has no idea how long he stares at her with a mixture of “holy shit I love you more than anything in all the nine realms,” and “I’m too sleep deprived to realize how long I’ve been doing this so it may have gotten creepy,” but when she does eventually open her eyes and wake up, she snorts with laughter a little.
“You seem to enjoy staring at me.”
Ignoring the bright red flush currently blooming over his face, Magnus smiles again and presses a soft kiss to Alex’s forehead. “Am I not allowed to appreciate that you’re insanely attractive?”
Alex tilted her head in mock-thought. “I suppose I’ll allow it.”
Magnus smiled and let Alex curl up, resting her head on his chest. Alex wasn’t one for complete coherency in early mornings, so Magnus took a great amount of pleasure out of how cuddly being half-asleep made her.
He lay back down so she could relax on top of his chest, spending a few minutes in a shared, comfortable silence. It’s after a few moments that Magnus says, “we should get married.”
Magnus’ jaw drops as he realizes what he just said, and Alex’s head darts up quicker than the time Samirah walked in and found out she was occasionally the little spoon. Her eyes are almost comically wide, and Magnus’ usually witty and coherent internal monologue has been reduced to something along the lines of, “fuck, fuck, fuck,” over and over again.
He’s incredibly desperate to save the situation. “Or, uh, we can just carry on like we are, that’s fine too. I don’t even think dead people can get married, so it was actually a really stupid idea-”
“Magnus.” Alex’s voice is incredibly steady, more so than his. She shifts so that she’s sitting up, cross-legged. Even the fact that her hair is a ruffled, sleep-affected mess of unruly green curls refusing to stay in place, and the baggy t-shirt that she absolutely did not steal from Magnus can’t distract from the mix of shock and something that he can’t quite place. “Did you just ask me to marry you?”
“Uh…” Magnus curses whichever God let him blurt that one out. “Seemed more like a general suggestion, and I’m pretty sure proposals are questions? Hence that ‘pop the question’ phrase, y’know?”
“Magnus.”
He sighs. “Okay, sort-of. I’ve been thinking about it for a while, but I always thought it was a pipe dream because it’s kind-of a big commitment and you like change? Our room décor doesn’t stay the same for more than a week, and I was going to ask you to legally bind yourself to me for the foreseeable future?” He knows he isn’t looking her in the eye, but he doesn’t think he could take the sympathy they undoubtedly have in them, along with rejection. “That’s not fair on you.”
Alex inhales softly, and he jerks in surprise when he feels her hand slip into his, with a gentleness she rarely shows. “Well, just never bringing it up isn’t fair on you.”
Magnus shrugs. “I’ll live. Or whatever our equivalent of that is.”
While he expects to see the aforementioned cocktail of sympathy and rejection in the eyes he knows so well, surprisingly that isn’t what he gets. What he does get he can’t read, and he doesn’t have a word for it.
“Magnus,” her tone is steady again, “if you asked me, I would’ve said yes.”
His eyes widen for the second time today. “You what?”
Alex raises her eyebrow. “Would you rather a cold-hearted rejection?”
“No!” Magnus says quickly. “No, obviously not.”
“Well, if you had asked me,” Alex says, “it would’ve been a yes. We live together, and we’re a committed couple. What’s a certificate to that?”
Magnus smiles softly, squeezing Alex’s hand softly. “Well, when you put it like that.”
“So?” Alex gives him a look. “You going to ask?”
“Uh, I don’t have a ring.”
Alex snorts, shaking her head slightly. “We can work that out later, I’d rather be there when you chose it anyway. I remember one of my uncles doing that with his wife.”
“Do I still kneel down then?” Magnus asks. “I’ve never done this before.”
“Neither have I,” Alex said. “Just… do what you think you should do, I guess.”
Magnus inhales, and holds Alex’s hands gently. “Uh, Alex Fierro…” his voice trails off for a few seconds. “Am I supposed to give a big speech?”
“Magnus, if you don’t hurry up and ask I’ll do it myself.”
“Okay, take two.” Magnus gives himself a few seconds, then continues. “I don’t have a ring, or a sappy speech prepared, which is shitty planning on my part, but, I actually wasn’t planning on asking. So, I’ll keep it short and sweet for you. Alex Fierro, will you marry me?”
Alex doesn’t hesitate to answer. “Yes! Yes, obviously.”
Magnus laughs giddily and pulls Alex in for a celebratory kiss. He can feel his hands in Alex’s hair, winding through the curls, and the familiar sensation of her own at the back of his neck, eventually looping loosely around them. Somehow without breaking the kiss, Alex managed to pull herself up, so that she was straddling Magnus’ waist with the expertise of someone who had done so many times in the past.
Neither of them speak when the kiss does break, or in the ensuing ones, but when an exhausted but giddily happy Magnus collapses into her chest, Alex simply runs her hands through his hair and lets her mind run wild with wedding outfits.