It was only three-ish days this time! What?
I don't know, guys. I was feeling all angsty tonight, and then I got page 511 feels, and then this monster happened. I apologize ahead of time for any pain, suffering, tears, or general sad feels this may cause.
It's been like four months, but if you still haven't read CoLS and somehow, magically still haven't been spoiled, just wait for the next one, okay?
Shout out to my awesome beta, Kat, for making sure this made sense, no matter how tired she may have been when I asked her to edit.
For the city that never sleeps, Magnus couldn't help but feel that New York couldn't be more dead. Maybe it was just because nothing even remotely sparked his interest right now. He'd seen it all and done it all. Eight hundred years was a very long time.
His eyes wandered from building to building as he let his feet decide where he was going. They seemed to have no destination in mind as he continued to wander through the streets for hours. Night had long since fallen, but the city was as bright as ever, illuminated by the light of buildings and street lamps. Not that it mattered. Magnus could see just fine no matter the lighting in the area.
Other people were still out and about, so no one paused to wonder about the boy walking around with his hands in his pockets and a solemn expression on his face. Although, Magnus was anything but a boy. He never really had been in the first place, born magical and forced to grow into adulthood before he could even really enjoy being a child.
He chuckled softly under his breath at the thought. What a waste.
Now, the bad in his life didn't normally bother him, but Magnus was feeling particularly bitter about it that night. He just wanted things to go right for once. Didn't he deserve that after putting up with hurt after hurt? Or was that really too much for him to ask for?
What had he done to upset some stupid higher power so much that they had to pull the rug from under his feet every time he finally had them firmly planted?
Magnus shook his head, as if to rid himself of the thought, before continuing on his way, wondering when he'd even stopped walking in the first place.
The night was drawing closer to morning before his legs finally started to complain at the strain he was putting on them from walking non-stop for several hours. However, he didn't stop until it was nearly sunrise. He had walked through the city for the entire night.
Thoroughly exhausted, Magnus trekked in the direction of his home, hoping he was tired enough to pass out as soon as he'd landed on his bed. He didn't want to think anymore, having spent the night doing nothing else. Dragging his feet the whole way, Magnus made it up the stairs and unlocked his door. There was a brief moment when he considered couch versus bed before heading towards his bedroom. Inside the room, he forced himself to care enough to strip down. The fatigue in his limbs had finally hit him full force, but sleeping in denim was never comfortable, and he liked his blood flowing properly.
It was just a slight bit chilly in the room, so Magnus wiggled his way into a pair of warm pajama bottoms. By then, the sun was already peeking out over the horizon, so the warlock headed to his window with the intention to draw the curtains shut and block it out while he slept. However, as he stood in front of the glass, hand firmly grabbing each curtain, he paused.
Slowly, the bitter, dark thoughts left his mind as he sleepily considered the rising sun. It was the start of a new day, both literally and figuratively. The day before hadn't been the best, but now there was a chance to start again. The situation wasn't ideal, but Magnus was more than used to starting his life over. He'd done so plenty of times before.
Finally pulling the curtains closed, Magnus allowed himself to admit the truth he'd been running from. It wasn't the hurt that really bothered him as much as he was telling himself it was.
When it all came down to it, he was lonely.
Across the city at the Institute, a pair of sleepy, blue eyes stared out at the rising sun as well.
After trying for three hours, Alec had finally given up on falling asleep and had retreated to the roof, where he was currently sitting on the ground, leaned against the small structure that held the door to the stairwell. He was tired, incredibly so, but his mind just wouldn't stop running around in circles. He thought about every little thing that he'd done wrong, every little thing that he could have done differently or better.
Tears pricked in Alec's eyes for a moment, and he hated that he didn't have a place to run to where he could cry freely anymore. The anger he'd felt hours before had long since given way to sadness. At some point, he'd finally realized he was really the only person to blame. While Camille had definitely played a role in everything, it was Alec that had trusted her. He was the one that had given her the opportunity to ruin them, even after he'd been warned.
Disgust flared up inside of him, and the cell phone he'd been turning around and around in his hands flew a short distance in front of him. His eyes narrowed in the direction of the object, as though its very existence was offensive to him somehow, but it wasn't the phone.
It was him.
He dug his palms into his eyes, clenching his fingers in his hair. This was stupid. He was stupid.
He was stupid, and he didn't know if there would ever be a way for him to fix what his own stupidity had caused.
It took a few moments, but Alec finally looked back up, eyes completely clear of any trace of his desire to cry. He pushed himself to his feet and turned to the door to go back inside. People would be waking up soon, and he didn't want them to discover his empty room.
As he walked back inside in silence, Alec noticed the sound of his footsteps and thought about how lonely they sounded on their own.
Reaching the bottom step, the eldest Lightwood child put on a brave face and reentered the Institute.
All about those feels.
I feel like I write Magnus than I do Alec, even though I'm more of an Alec-type person. What do you guys think?