We enter the house, hand in hand, my heart beating fiercely against my chest as if it's trying to escape this situation. But Magnus is calm and collected, his ever-present smile gracing his face as I guide him towards the living room. Izzy stands when she sees us, her eyes darting quickly to our hands, missing nothing. I notice the only other person in the living room is Jace, lounging on the leather sofa, his legs thrown over one armrest, eyes closed, his long fingers thrumming along to whatever song is playing through the headphones he wears. 

"Hello! My name is Izzy, you must be Magnus," she chirps, her high heels clicking on the floor as she makes her way towards us, hand outstretched toward Magnus' own. He captures her hand and grins brightly at her, nodding once. 

"That I am," he looks her over and smiles. "You have a lovely sense of fashion, Isabelle." He sure knows the way to her heart. Izzy's face lights up and she launches into some long-winded speech about fashion that I couldn't care less about. Magnus' face holds interest as he listens, 'hmming' and 'ahhing' where appropriate, adding in his opinions every few moments and seeming genuinely invested int he conversation. I tune them out and instead focus on calming my heart rate. It seems like I can't quite control myself properly around Magnus. He makes the world seem like such a simple place, where you can just choose to be happy, choose to be yourself, content. He makes everything seem alright, and I never knew how much I needed that until I had it. 

I hear the familiar sound of my mother's high heels clicking along the wooden hallway floor before I see her. My body tenses of its own accord, my head turning toward the entry way where she will be any moment. I feel Magnus tighten his fingers around my own, a reminder that he's right here, that no matter what my mother says or does, he's not going anywhere. 

I'm not so sure he knows what he's getting into here. 

Maryse strides through the doorway, her inky hair tied back into a high ponytail, twisted around itself elegantly. Her black dress hugs her form, making her skin look pale in comparison. Her eyes are sharp, falling on me like vices and I suddenly feel stuck, trapped under her ever-scrutinizing gaze, my throat seizing so that I can hardly breathe. Magnus drops my hand and I notice the cold air immediately. He walks confidently over to my mother, holding his hand out courageously in greeting. 

"Hello, Mrs Lightwood. It's a pleasure to meet you. My name is Magnus Bane, I work with your son at my mother's floral shop." My mother looks down at his hand for a moment before shaking it once, nodding curtly. 

"Yes, he did mention that." I don't miss the way her eyes dart over him like a predator to prey, wondering where his weak spots are, wondering the easiest and most secretive ways to tear him apart. "Welcome to our home, it's lovely to meet you." I'm sure even Magnus can tell how obviously fake she is, from her perfectly ironed hair to her sharp pointed heels, her smile forced and tight, jaw tensed. She's like a shark, everyone is just waiting for the spilt blood so the frenzy can begin. 

My legs bring me toward Magnus and I stand alongside him, a brother in arms, giving him the same reassurance he gives me, that I'm here. He turns to look at me, his amber eyes gleaming even in the dimly lit living room, reminding me that even though we're not sure where we stand, what we are, he's worth this discomfort, this position I've found myself in here. 

"Would you like us to set the table, mother?" I ask, placing my hand discreetly on Magnus' lower back. She waits a moment, looking behind us at my siblings lounging in the living room before nodding. 

"That would be lovely. Dinner will be served in about 20 minutes." She doesn't say anything else, turning on her heel and heading back down the hall toward her office, leaving the two of us standing there in her wake. I turn to Magnus, worry colouring my features. 

"I'm sorry about her." I immediately say, guiding him toward the dining room. 

"Why? I mean, sure, she's a bit uptight, but nothing too crazy." I roll my eyes, opening the china cabinet to retrieve the nice china that my mother insists on eating off of if we have company. Other than that, it sits stagnant, gathering dust in a pretentious cabinet. 

"She didn't see us holding hands. What's she going to say or do? What if she's homophobic? What if she hates me?" Magnus smooths his hand across my shoulders, leaning his head briefly on my shoulder. The action alone, his touch, though brief and simple, soothes me to my bones, like soaking in hot water, or sinking into a field of warm grass. 

"Then she's not worth your time or effort. You're her son, Alec. You should be loved by her no matter what. And if she doesn't see that, if she's so closed minded that she would rather drive a wedge between you two than accept you, then you let it happen. Because you deserve to be accepted and cared for. Beautiful things deserve protection and love." He speaks so easily, the words flowing from between his lips unabashedly, smoothly. He speaks in a way that makes you believe it, even if it's absurd. Because he's Magnus. He's unashamed of himself, of his thoughts, he speaks his mind. 

And I love it. I smile softly at him and watch as he gathers the cutlery. In comfortable silence, we set the table, brushing our hands together, sending tingles up my arm, sending each other smiles across the table. 

Too soon, my family begins pouring in, little Max dashing around the table to me and enveloping me in a hug that I return eagerly. 

"Alec! Who's this?" His wide, curious eyes land on Magnus, taking him in and smiling up at him. 

"This is my friend, Magnus Bane," I reply, ruffling up his hair and combing my fingers through it. He turns back to me, leaning into my side. 

"Is he your boyfriend?" He asks, causing a blush to rise to my cheeks. Magnus just grins at my little brother. 

"Hopefully your big brother will let me be his boyfriend soon. Would you be okay with that?" Max smiles and nods, pulling out his chair and plopping down. 

"Yeah, Alec needs a boyfriend. He spends a lot of time in his room doing boring things like reading or listening to music, I keep telling him he needs to get friends like me, but he's just not as popular and-" I widen my eyes and cover Max's mouth with my hand, feeling humiliated by a silly nine-year-old with no filter. I glance at Magnus who is covering his laugh with his hand, amused eyes meeting mine. I scowl and round the table to sit beside him, crossing my arms in a huff. 

He leans into my ear and his hot breath washes over my bare skin, sending shivers up my spine. 

"I like your brother, he's smart." 

"He's an obnoxious kid who should mind his own business." Magnus chuckles and leans back in his chair, but I don't miss the way he casually rests his hand on my knee underneath the table. 

Izzy and Jace wander in, Jace sliding into place next to me, Izzy sitting beside Max.

"Hey, I'm Jace," he nods at Magnus. Magnus reaches across me to shake his hand, nodding. 

"I'm Magnus, Alexander's friend," Jace raises a brow, knowing I've never been fond of anyone calling me my full name. But it sounds like a prayer coming from Magnus' mouth, like silver and gold, like silk. I just smile a bit and turn my eyes toward the door, watching my father enter the room.

If there's one thing I appreciate about my father, it's that he's not my mother. 

He's softer, in a way, more relaxed and open about things. I've never felt as overwhelmed by him, not nearly as intimidated by him as Maryse makes me. Not to say my father can't hold his own, Robert Lightwood has made a name for himself easily, but he's just gentler than my mother. 

Magnus stands and walks over to my father, extending his hand and smiling openly as he introduces himself. I can see something flash in my dad's eyes, but before I can decipher what it is, it's gone and he's smiling back at Magnus, saying something I don't pay attention to until they both sit back down. 

Dinner begins smoothly. Izzy talks about her day, taking the spotlight off of me, which I'm forever grateful for. But I'm hyper-aware of Magnus sitting so close to me, his very existence setting my world slightly off axis. It's almost dizzying how his presence seems to change nothing yet everything all at once. 

But all too soon, the spotlight is blinding me. 

"So, Magnus, you said your mother owns Bloom. Do you enjoy working with flowers as well?" Magnus looks up at my mother, smiling warmly before he takes a sip of water and nods. 

"Yes, I always have. My mother has always been passionate about floral designs, yet she got a degree in law. She runs her own firm, and on the side, handles business at Bloom. I do a lot of the managing, though, so that she can still work her day job. It's really a hobby gone wild for her, but I think she deals well under pressure. She likes keeping busy." Maryse nods and forces a tight-lipped smile. Sometimes, I just want to scream. Nothing is ever good enough for her. 

"And your father?" I can feel Magnus tense at this, but he smiles and picks at his food. "He's a police officer, he's not around often. But he's a good man." Magnus leaves it at that, taking a bit of his food and complimenting my mother on the delicious meal. It all tastes like sawdust after that, though. 

When dinner is finished, Magnus offers to help clean up, but my father shoos us away. I guide Magnus up the stairs to my room, leading him into the drab, white walled place I spend the majority of my time. 

We sit down on my bed, facing each other in peaceful quiet until my curiosity beats me. 

"You sounded...tense when you spoke about your Dad, is everything alright?" Magnus shrugs and smiles at me, never letting his perfect facade down, not even around me. 

"Oh, of course, we're just not close. He's not as...open about me being pansexual. I guess he always wanted me to get married and give him grandchildren the old fashioned way. He's not very welcoming to me having to adopt and jump through hoops when, in his mind, if I just stuck to girls, it'd all be so much easier. He doesn't like my interest in guys, he says it's a waste of time." I nod and reach out, taking his hand in my, smoothing my thumb along his soft skin. 

"It's scary, isn't it?" I murmur, staring down at our hands in wonderment at all this stands for, the rules I'm breaking, the risks that I'm so willingly diving into because Magnus makes me feel something more. 

"Sometimes. But I try not to let it get to me. You're quite a perfect distraction." He winks at me and I find myself blushing, chewing on my lip. 

"Do you think this would ever work? Us?"

"I think we could make anything work if we're both willing to try."

"But what about my family? What abut my mother, what if she disowns me?" Panic rises like high-tide, washing through my chest and making it hard to function. Magnus just smiles at me and smooths his hand down my cheek, cupping my jaw delicately in his open hand. 

"They might be shallow, the Lightwood name might never dive deeper than the very surface, but you? You are deep, Alexander. You are a deep, wonderful soul." And nothing about Magnus makes me question him. I feel deep, I feel open and unashamed of who I am for the first time. Courage courses through my veins like wildfire, burning up my insecurities and making me feel strong in ways I never imagined. I don't feel like hiding in the background right now, I feel like screaming from the top of my lungs. I feel alive. 

And so I kiss him. 

My hands find the wide expanse of Magnus' warm neck, pulling him close to me until our legs are a tangled mess atop the covers until my lips meet his boldly. He tastes like the ice cream from dessert, sweet vanilla and smooth dark chocolate, his lips not the slightest bit chapped, plump and smooth against my own. 

I knit my brows together, completely moved in this moment, my world spinning wildly out of control yet perfectly in line. Magnus' own hands find my waist, winding their way around to the small of my back where they pull me closer. 

When the need for air breaks us apart, I'm a new person. My heart is full and aching, my chest wide open like a summers day, soaking up this feeling. Magnus smiles at me, his lips kiss-swollen and bubblegum pink. His eyes resemble melted honey, all warm and gooey, all soft and loving. I leave my hands caressing the side of his neck and jaw, my thumb tracing the sharpness of his contours, the way I can feel his pulse thrumming like a promise beneath my fingertips. 

"You're absolutely beautiful, Alexander." He whispers, breaking the silence, his soft voice shattering the quiet like fragile glass. I smile a bit, bringing my bottom lip up underneath my teeth shyly, feeling vulnerable and open to him, yet not minding in the slightest. 

"You're the first, the only gorgeous thing I've ever seen," I reply simply, leaning back on my bed and bringing him with me, never planning on letting him go again. 

Beauty is sometimes so hidden that it takes a boy with whisky eyes and glitter-sprinkled hair to remind you it exists. It takes his touch, his warmth and protection, his courage and love to show you that it's real, and it's right here in my arms, the weight of the world sitting on the nightstand to be worried about another day. 

Because right now, I feel so in love that it hurts.