“Do you remember, the night of the battle on Valentine’s ship, when I needed some of your strength?”
“Do you need it again now?” Alec said. “Because you can have it.”
“I always need your strength, Alec,” Magnus said, and closed his eyes as their intertwined fingers began to shine, as if between them they held the light of a star.
“Well, if you’re going to wake me up,” Magnus said, “you might as well make it worth my time,” and he pulled Alec down on top of him.
After Magnus ends it, Alec thinks long and hard about what to do with the key to his flat. It takes him a week to decide that he has to give it back, no matter how attached he’s grown to it.
So in the middle of the night, he goes to give it back. Ties a string around it to hang over his doorknob. But once he gets to the doorway, he can’t bear to leave it there, or even touch the handle. Because this is the place where he’d been guaranteed to feel at least a little lighter as he goes in, where he’d gotten his first kiss and where he can feel Magnus inside only blocked by a locked door.
So he ties it around his neck and keeps hoping.
“I don’t think so,” Magnus said dryly. “She wasn’t very pleasant the last time I saw her. Of course, that could be because I’ve got an eighteen year-old boyfriend with a stamina rune and she doesn’t.”
Alec sputtered. “As the person being objectified, I … object to that description of me.