Magnus opens the door before I can reach out to pull it open on Wednesday morning, the sun barely breaking above the skyline. He grins at me, vibrant and far too awake for 7:30 in the morning.

"Good morning, Alexander!" He chirps brightly. I take a second to assess his outfit- black combat boots, pinstripe burgundy and black pants, and a loose fitting black tee beneath his leather blazer, sleeves rolled to the elbows. He wears black and silver rings as well as an assortment of other jewellery. I glance down at my own outfit- drab black skinny jeans, black scuffed combat boots and a grey long sleeved v-neck.

"Morning," I reply softly, setting my bag on the floor behind the counter.

"Here! I brought coffee," he slides a white paper cup towards me, my name scrawled messily across the top. "I wasn't sure how you took it so I just got black, is that alright?"

"Black is perfect," I smile a bit, despite myself and don't miss the gleam in his eyes.

"You're early," he comments casually as he grabs a broom and sweeps any stray petals off the floor. I sigh a bit, having hoped he wouldn't have said anything.

"Er, yeah, just needed to get out of the house," I answer vaguely. Magnus turns to me, tilting his head like a lost puppy.

"Why's that?" I shrug, taking a long pull from my coffee cup while I ponder how to answer.

"It's just stressful living with such successful people when I'm not going anywhere special." Magnus scoffs and sweeps up the piles he's made, squatting down a few feet away.

"You really are blind to beauty then. Alexander, you don't see yourself clearly." I shake my head with a humourless chuckle.

"Nah, I think you're the delusional one. You haven't met my parents or my siblings. It's impossible to compete. Not that I have much interest in competing. I'm fine in the background." Magnus stands, dumping the contents of the pan into the trash before looking at me, seriousness overtaking his usual carefree expression.

"You don't belong in the background. Beauty deserves to be noticed and appreciated." I roll my eyes, leaning on the counter as I take another sip of my coffee.

"I'm not beautiful, Magnus. Even if I did know what beauty looked like. It's just not me."

"That's it, over this summer, I'm going to show you beautiful things until it clicks. I'm going to make you believe in pretty things again." He grins triumphantly as if he's just come up with a grand master plan to end all world issues. I can't help but laugh at him. He's so easily satisfied, so happy and content, all traits I wish I had.

"You don't have to do that, Magnus," I begin only to be shushed by the shaking of his head, stray bits of glitter shimmering into the morning sunlight and floating to the floorboards.

"I want to. You deserve to feel beautiful. We all do." I drop the subject, rounding the counter and logging onto the till.

"Whatever you say, Magnus." He smirks at me, leaning his wirey arms on the counter and watching me.

"I'm going to go make some bouquets, then, Alexander." I nod dismissively, studying the pricing sheet in front of me in hopes of memorizing something eventually. I hear Magnus' quick steps pass behind me through the doorway and I'm left in peaceful hush.

Magnus emerges from the back a few minutes before we open, humming softly as he skips to the front of the store and flips the sign. I watch him curiously, noting his carefree atmosphere and general happiness- something I'd never be able to achieve. Earlier, I'd thought Lydia was effortlessly pretty, but now I'm starting to come to a different realization. Lydia is attractive, sure, but Magnus? Well, I would wager to say that Magnus might just be effortlessly beautiful.

"Hey, look at this," he begins, kneeling next to a potted plant near the window. I round the counter, walking over to him. He meets my gaze with twinkling eyes, more amber today, and motions for me to kneel beside him. Pulling the legs of my jeans up a bit, I kneel down, looking at the plant in question curiously.

"Yes?" I prompt when at first he doesn't speak. He grins wider, his fingers brushing the bottom of a fresh blossom.

"This flower is brand new- just blooming. Look at how vibrant the colour is! Isn't it pretty?" He turns to face me, smoothing is fingertips along the petals.

"Sure? I mean it's nice..." I trail off, unsure what he wants to hear. At that, the boy sighs dejectedly and stands up.

"Fine. It's a nice flower. Come on, you're running till today."

I make awkward small talk with the customers that come in a steady stream. Some buy flowers for lovers, some for mothers , for celebrations or loss, or some for gifts. I didn't realize how universal flowers were- a language of symbolism, a way of saying you're thinking of someone in so few words. Magnus hovers. He floats gracefully around the store, watering flowers and sweeping up dust. His gaze catches my own every once in awhile, his subtle way of asking if I'm doing alright. When business quiets down, he makes his way over to me, throwing a dead bud into the trash bin by my feet.

"So? How are you doing?" His voice is clear as glass, his smile soft yet exuding confidence.

"Good, I think," I scrunch my brows together, tossing in a shrug. He grins again and sits on the stool.

"Great! So Lydia will be in soon to do the afternoon shift- you met her, right?" I nod and watch as he kicks his legs against the stool legs.
"Cool, I was thinking, if you weren't busy, we could hang out!" He exclaims, wide, childlike eyes meeting mine. I raise a brow.
"I mean, if you're interested." Still, Magnus doesn't lose his confidence, smiling at me like I've given him the sun. If only in an attempt to avoid my own selfish problems, I nod.

"Uh, yeah, sure." He claps his hands together and smiles even brighter if possible.

"Great! Grab your coat," and he disappears into the back room as Lydia wanders in through the front.

"Oh! You did get the job, how great!" She smiles, walking over to the counter, bright eyes looking over me. I feel a little uncomfortable under her unyielding gaze. I cough into my hand before answering.

"Yes, I uh, I did." I nod at her, scratching the back of my neck nervously.

"We should grab a cup of coffee tomorrow to celebrate," she offers, twirling a piece of her corn silk hair around her finger. I swear I see her bat her eyelashes at me. My brows knit together, my throat thick with words I don't have.

"Actually, Alexander and I are grabbing lunch tomorrow, considering we're already working together," Magnus chimes in from behind me as he floats back into the room. If I'm correct, he has an air of defensiveness to him, maybe a bit of a hard edge. I turn to look at him, his right hand on his hip, his gaze set on Lydia who shoots him a dark look. "Pity that you'd have to come to downtown so early anyway, when you work later." He adds, his gaze unwavering.

"Maybe another time then," her eyes flickering back to me. I can only nod.

"Come on, Alexander, lets go," Magnus breaks the heavy silence and reaches his arm out to me invitingly. I look at him curiously for a second before I reach out. His hand slips into mine casually, his smooth fingers slipping into the spaces between my own, some what as if that's all they're there for. He tugs softly and, obediently, I follow, holding my jacket over my left arm.

"Have a good shift, Lydia! Also, it's your turn to do the garbages," Magnus smirks a bit, not bothering to turn back to look at her as the bell tinkles above us as we exit.

"Do you not get along with Lydia?" I chance to ask, glancing sideways at him. Magnus shakes his head, his hand still in mine. I wonder if I should drop it.

"I just don't like competition." He replies smugly, turning to me with a cocky grin. I feel heat flush my cheeks but I look away, decidedly not dropping my hand from his.

"Where are we going?" I ask as we round to the car park.

"I want to take you somewhere," the boy replies vaguely. "Do you have a car?" I nod and fish in my pocket with my free hand to retrieve the keys.

"Do you want to drive?" I ask, unlocking the sleek black car before us. It's tinted windows shine in the afternoon sunlight. Magnus' eyes widen almost comically so, I chuckle a bit.

"You're kidding, right?" His voice holds a hint of admiration. I shrug and drop his hand in favour of handing him the keys.

"Not at all. You have a licence and you know where we're going. You should drive." His face brightens into a soft smile as he opens the driver door, sliding into the leather seat as I step into my own side.

"This is your car?" He asks as he smooths his hand across the dashboard. I shrug and buckle myself in.

"One of them. My family is ridiculous. We have a bunch of cars that anyone can take. This is just the one my father left the keys for." Magnus turns to look at me, cocking a brow.

"It's nice. I mean, really nice."

"Don't you have a car?"

"Well, yeah, but not several. My parents are wealthy enough, hence why my mother runs a flower shop as a hobby. But they're just more frugal I guess. They don't care much for materialistic things." He explains as he pulls his own seatbelt across his chest.

"That must be nice, actually." I reply honestly. Magnus laughs, to my surprise. I look over at him, confusion colouring my features. "What? What'd I say?"

"It's strange, is all. To hear someone complaining about being too well off. Most people would kill to be where you are, to be a Lightwood. Yet you have no interest in it." I shrug once again- my main reaction to the majority of what Magnus says. He renders me speechless often.

"I guess I just wish there were more to it. I wish being well off and having parents who take advantage of it went deeper. We're so shallow." I shake my head as Magnus starts up the car, a quiet rumble beneath us.

"You don't have to be." He simply states, backing out of the car park expertly. Now, it's my turn to laugh, without humour.

"Don't I?" Magnus chances a quick glance at me so I can see his confusion.

"No, you don't. You can choose to see the beautiful parts of the world, the pieces that can't be bought."

"If I want to chance being disowned, maybe. It's not so easy, you know." I argue, shifting uncomfortably in the atmosphere of the conversation. I don't like the turn it's taken, I don't enjoy being a topic of interest.

"What's so hard about it? You have your own mind, your own heart and you can make your own choices. The lightwood name is as much yours as all of theirs. You can choose how to brand it." Magnus keeps his eyes on the road as he winds through the city, traffic thin this time in the afternoon.

"Can I?" I whisper before clearing my throat and looking out the window.

"I know you can."