Bloom (Malec)

Beautiful

Working at 'Bloom' falls into a soft routine. It's like any job, I'd assume, simple, slightly boring, but it does the trick. The one little catch is the coworkers. Between Magnus constantly asking me what flowers look like- and me always finding creative ways to say they're alright without giving him the word he's looking for- and Lydia making passes at me, it gets exhausting. Besides, Lydia won't take the hint that I don't swing that way. That, maybe, when Magnus makes joking passes at me just to annoy her, they mean more. It's only been two weeks of working here and it's wearing thin.

"Alexander?" Magnus' voice chimes from the front window where he's arranging a display. I look up from my book, seated on the stool behind the counter. It's a Wednesday, slow and quiet.

"Yeah?" I ask, setting my book down after sliding a receipt in it to hold my place.

"Come here," he instructs softly. Sighing, I hop off of my stool and walk over to him, standing about a foot away as he picks up an orchid that's been dyed blue.

"What do you think of this flower?" He asks for the 4th time already this week. I sigh, frustrated and push my hair back with my hand, turning away from the pretty flower to look at him. Magnus watches me with bright, whisky eyes, his mouth turned upwards in a quaint smile. His navy button up tee shirt clashes brilliantly with his smooth skin, his black jeans tucking neatly in his brown boots.

"What do I think of that flower?" I ask in return. Magnus nods, confusion tainting his otherwise perfect features. Over the past couple of weeks, I've grown closer to him, often wandering down the block when we close for lunch, sharing food and conversation. And, with excuses to my mother, spending time after work with him, also. Wandering the streets, watching the sunset and the stars blink brilliantly into existence. It's these small occurrences that have shown me how enamoured I've become with Magnus Bane, how, maybe, it's not that I didn't know what beauty was, but maybe, it's just that I'd never seen it until I met him.

"I think it's hard to focus on a stupid flower when you're standing here, so beautiful it hurts." I step back, my words falling into the space between us, the air around us spiralling to a halt as Magnus' eyes match his smile as they both widen.

"You think I'm..." he trails off, his hand dropping to his side, the flower falling to the floor. We ignore it as I stare at him, tucking my bottom lip up between my teeth.

"Yeah, I do," I reply honestly. As a Lightwood, one thing we've always been taught is to not hold back. We feed off of emotions, we learn and sway with them. I've always hidden in the background, but with Magnus, sometimes it feels like I was never meant to be a minor character. Maybe I've always been destined for the lead role. Before I can further embarrass myself, I look away, staring out onto the bustling street to distract myself.

"It's okay, though. I don't want you to think into it too much, I don't want you to-" Magnus cuts me off, his steady hand making its presence known on my bicep.

"Are you saying you don't feel anything else? That I'm just beautiful, nothing else to you?" He asks seriously, a hint of disappointment seeping into his tone. I take a deep, shaky breath.

"Magnus, you don't know what you're getting yourself into. I come from a well-known, wealthy family. I come from a place where being different isn't accepted, where everything is so formal and proper that it's stale. I don't...lead the life you lead. I'm not carefree or easy-going, I don't have fun, I don't let loose, I don't fall for people. I'm a closeted 17 year old just trying to survive high school until I can get out and get away from everything." I confess, saying more to him than I'd ever intended, saying more than I ever have to him. Magnus knits his brows together, a frown forming on his face and I decide right now that I don't want to see him sad, not now, not ever.