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It was like a twist of fate. A wicked twist of fate, really, because Alec was doing just fine until now. He was learning to cope, sleeping more and drinking less, taking walks when he was restless instead of angrily shattering windows in the Institute’s training room because his vision was too red or too black to accurately see his target. He was always restless now. It was like whatever peace and tranquility he ever managed to possess left him when Magnus walked away.
When Magnus walked away.
That was still hard to think about, despite the fact that it happened a little over a year ago. Every time he thought about seeing Magnus’s retreating back, disappearing into the dark of the tunnel, his heart began to ache. His chest tightened and made it hard to breathe. It always passed, though, with a well placed distraction, usually in the form of Jace or Isabelle or demons.
He was coping, working through his heartbreak, and it was all ruined with one stupid coincidence, one tiny twist.
It had been around noon when the familiar agitated feeling became too much. Jace was with Clary, Isabelle with Simon, and he was alone, the Institute coldly quiet, feeling less like home than it ever had. (In all honesty, he still had trouble not thinking of Magnus’s loft when he thought of home. He might have grown up in the Institute, but he’d never felt quite as important or quite as loved than he did spending all those nights in that spacious apartment. He’d become attached to it in ways he never thought he would.) He had to do something to relieve the pent up energy, and his mother would kill him if he broke another window.
So he went for a walk.
Each time he went for a walk, he took a different path, watching the people as he passed them, thinking of how blissfully unaware they were of all the mystical and magical things that surrounded them. Sometimes, he’d wander for so long that he’d suddenly look up and wonder where he was. Sometimes he’d walk until it was dark. Sometimes he wouldn’t come home until the next morning.
Maybe he wasn’t coping as well as he thought he was.
It was during this particular walk that something happened to crush any sort of coping he had managed to get.
He'd been walking past a line of shops — a cute little bakery, a small boutique, a flower shop, a cafe — when he'd looked up, glancing through the large window of the cafe. That's where he saw Magnus, who was sitting at a small table near the corner, looking just how Alec remembered with his hair spiked and his face done up in eyeliner, his tastefully expensive clothes pulling everything together in a subtly classy way. He was sitting with somebody. A werewolf, if Alec had to guess, simply because you learn to pick these things out after a while. She was sickeningly pretty, holding the kind of beauty that would rival even Isabelle's. The girl said something. Whatever it was seemed to be funny, as Magnus's face lit up with a laugh, his head tilting back slightly.
It was all so familiar, the grin and the shake of his shoulders, the way he seemed to look centuries younger, freer, as the pure joy broke out of him at all sides.
They were just friends, Alec thought, but he knew that was untrue even before he reached out to tuck a lock of her sandy blonde hair behind her ear, fingers lingering on her cheek, and then her jaw. It was the same way Magnus used to glance at him and smile before extending a hand to fix his dark, unruly hair.
He swore he could feel his heart breaking in his chest. Again.
Forcing his gaze down at the cracked sidewalk, because he didn't think he could stand another second of watching the person he loved so much be with someone else, he continued walking, this time faster. He had to get out of there, get somewhere where he could breathe again and wait for his heart to stop thudding and cracking and wait for the urge to cry like a ten-year-old to pass. He barely got four steps though when a voice stopped him.
"Alec."
It wasn't loud. As a matter of fact, it barely rose above the noise of the crowd, the sounds of the Mundies passing back and forth, carrying shopping bags and holding hands and talking cheerfully. But it was enough to stop Alec dead in his tracks, spine straightening and shoulders tightening. He could always ignore him, the way that he was ignored every time he tried to apologize or explain himself. That didn't feel right, though. It actually felt very wrong. The only thing that did feel right was turning around and looking at him.
Magnus stood a few steps out the cafe door, standing so calmly and steadily with his hands slipped into his jacket pockets. He was the very picture of okay, looking good and put together in all the ways Alec wasn't.
There were a million things he wanted to say. Apologies, explanations, I love you's. But the only thing that rose in his throat was a very simple, "Hi."
He'd never been good with words. That was all Jace. Just like dealing with Exes was all Isabelle. He was stuck somewhere near the bottom, awkward and nervous and not at all ready for what was coming.
"Hi." Magnus's reply was smooth, the exact opposite of Alec's. He took a step closer, tilting his head ever-so-slightly to the side. "It's been a while.”
It's been a while because you've been ignoring all of my calls. What came out instead was, "Y-yeah. It has."
Silence stretched between them. Silence that Alec wanted so badly to shatter, even if it was with another fruitless apology or a messily put together explaination. But he couldn't. He couldn't bring himself to say it, to try to and fix things when he knew, deep down, that there was no hope left. Everything was too broken.
"Look," Magnus started to say, but Alec interrupted.
"Who is she?" He tilted his head in the direction of the cafe window, where he imagined the girl was watching them quietly.
Magnus pursed his lips. "My girlfriend."
Alec's heart sank, even though he knew that was the case before he asked. He took a slow breath, concentrating on keeping himself put together. It wasn't working, though. A bitter sort of jealousy was rising quickly in his throat, too fast for him to push it down, and too strong for him to ignore. The words were spilling from his mouth before he could even think about stopping them. "What happened to me being it for you?" His tone was sharp and bruised, reflecting the hurt and anger he'd felt since Magnus walked away from him a year ago. "You remember that, don't you?"
It looked as if Magnus was biting back words, his jaw clenching and his eyes darting briefly upward at the sky. Maybe he was regretting coming out here. Good, Alec thought. All he'd wanted to do was continue on his way, anyway. "Things change," Magnus said quietly, an undercurrent of sadness bleeding into his tone.
"Things change a lot, apparently," Alec spat. He shoved his hands into the pockets of his hoodie, glaring down at the ground. He drew in a breath, his anger slowly beginning to ebb. Magnus's eyes didn't leave him, his gaze never wavering. Alec wished he'd just turn around and go back inside, go back to his new girlfriend and his new relationship where he could be happy. Maybe she'd be better for him. Maybe she wouldn't pry and be jealous. Maybe she wouldn't be insecure.
Maybe she wouldn't consider his ex-girlfriend's offer to make him mortal.
He couldn't be here anymore. But there was something he had to know before they parted ways, hopefully for the last time. The Angel knew he couldn't stand this kind of heartbreak again. He looked up at the warlock, who was still watching him expectantly. When he spoke, his voice was oddly quiet and steady. "Do you still love me?"
A look came over Magnus, a kind of age-old sorrow that made him appear a hundred years older. He moved forward until they were standing directly in front of each other. Alec closed his eyes at the scent of sandalwood and burnt sugar, and that unique smell of wisdom and old books. Fingers brushed over his temple, pushing his hair behind his ear before sliding down the line of his jaw. Alec forced back the tears that threatened to prick at his eyes.
"I'll always love you," came Magnus's soft answer. "But sometimes, love isn't enough."
The words covered him like a blanket, too heavy and uncomfortable. The touch left his skin. When he opened his eyes, Magnus was gone, leaving Alec to stare down a crowded street of unfamiliar faces.