Bloom (Malec)

Late Night Conversations

I can't tell you how long I spend sitting in the driver seat of the Jag, parked across the street and ways up from our house, staring at the small lights from the windows and waiting for them to blink out. 

It could be minutes. Or hours. Twilight passed awhile ago, the night fully engulfing the city now, but I just can't bring myself to go back home. It feels foreign to me, or maybe, I'm the foreign piece, the one thing that doesn't quite fit in, at least, not anymore.

I'd never realised how much I depended on my mother's approval, how I formed my life to her wishes and made sure that she was content long before myself. But now, as I sit here, spinning the keys around my finger with the engine cut and the silence deafening me, I realise just how terrified I am to lose that. 

We'd never been close, but I'd always been the one that could connect with her the most. I was always the one who'd bend to her will, who'd listen the best, and maybe that's all I ever was. A well-trained dog for her to boss around. 

Most people would never suspect their mother's to do such a thing, to abuse their children in such a wickedly manipulative way, but with my mother, it's something we've come to accept. She's never been the type of mom who wipes your tears away and tucks you in. She's the type that tells you that the tooth fairy isn't real, or lets you know when you've gained weight. 

She's just always been blunt like that. 

My phone buzzes in my pocket, jolting me out of my thoughts and startling me a bit. I pull it out and see a text from Jace wondering where I am, if I'm alright. I take a breath and sigh before typing out a reply, telling him I'll be home in a couple. 

I shove the keys in the ignition and wring my hands on the wheel a couple of times to steady myself before I drive down the street and pull into the driveway, parking the car and getting out. 

My hands shake slightly, but I shove them deep into the pockets of my jacket to hide them as I walk inside. 

The house is eerily quiet, haunted almost, but I push the thought away as I wait for any sounds to tell me who's still awake. The clock on the wall tells me it's half eleven, which means Max will definitely be in bed. Izzy will probably be setting out her outfit for tomorrow, and Jace is probably hiding away in his room to avoid the awkward tension that seems to follow me around. 

My dad exits the kitchen, a cup of coffee in his hand, looking tired. I immediately feel a rush of guilt course through me, wondering if this is my fault. But upon seeing me standing like a stranger in the entryway, he smiles softly and leans on the doorframe, looking at me like he always has. I guess I thought he'd see me differently, even if I'm not. 

"Hey, you're home." He states quietly. All I can manage is a nod, my throat feeling strangled. He sighs and pushes himself off the wall, walking over to me and placing a hand reassuringly on my shoulder. 

"Look, Alec. She'll come around. You know your mother, and even if she's totally wrong about this, it'll still take her some time to get over it. Just don't regret it, okay? What you did was brave, and I'm proud of you for being yourself, especially when it's difficult. How about you just go get some rest and let everything cool off," he suggests, dropping his arm back to his side. I nod and smile gratefully at him, letting him know without words that I appreciate this more than anything. 

My room feels so drab when I walk in. The white walls look too pristine, the perfectly organised desk looks as if no one has touched it when in reality, I was sat at it just yesterday. Everything feels as if no one has lived in here at all. 

I think back to Magnus' room, the coffee walls, the deep maroon sheets mixing brilliantly in with the gold of his pillow cases and the dark oak bed frame. The way he has half-read books opened and strewn along the wardrobe, desk, and nightstand. Even the wrinkled shirts that inhabit certain corners of the room. Especially the rich floral scent mixed with his own fresh aroma of flowers, peppermint and cedar. 

All of it fills me with longing. My mother had always told us our rooms had to be immaculate, which never made sense to me, because they were our spaces, not hers, yet everything in this house somehow was my mother's business. Nothing was ever missed by her. 

I know I'm going to get in trouble for it, but I grab my cell phone (well past curfew hours) and press Magnus' contact, hoping by the Angel that he's not asleep already. 

I'm not entirely surprised when he picks up on the third ring, sounding awake and as lively as ever. 

"Alexander, lovely to hear your voice. Is something the matter?" I can hear soft music playing in the background, but I can't make out what it is. 

"Not entirely. I just...this is going to sound crazy..." I drift off, unsure why I called in the first place, acting purely off of instinct. 

"Darling, Crazy is my middle name. Actually, I don't believe I have a middle name, come to think of it..." I chuckle at the way his mind works and flop onto my plain black duvet, toying with the stale fabric beneath my fingers. 

"I want to do something...dangerous. Or different. Something... something I would never dream of doing." 

"And you think I can help you with that? I thought we were trying to win your parent's over, not make them despise me for corrupting you." Amusement paints his tone and I grin into the phone, staring up at the ceiling. 

"Screw winning them over. I'm done with that. Let's do something." My heart is beating wildly in my chest just at the thought of this, of anything that my mother might disapprove of. 

"Right now? Darling, it's nearly midnight," he reminds me. I sigh and furrow my brows in annoyance, hating that he's right. We both have to work at 8 in the morning, and despite the fact that I'm sure Magnus would still be horrendously cheery under no sleep, I, on the other hand, would prefer to get at least a few solid hours, lest make everyone around me regret ever meeting me. Even coffee can't cure running on no sleep. 

"I guess you're right. But soon?" I ask hopefully, sitting up and pushing my hair back, knowing it's probably a matted mess by now. 

"Yes, perhaps we'll go out tomorrow night." I smile vibrantly to myself as I make my way over to my dresser, pulling open the top drawer and grabbing a pair of pajama pants to sleep in. 

"Sounds perfect." I reply, pushing the drawer closed and fumbling to undo my jeans with one hand. 

"I hate the prospect of saying goodbye to you, you know. Even if it's just for a few hours until I see you for work," I mumble, embarrassed at how vulnerable and exposed I feel sharing my emotions and thoughts. Though I trust Magnus would never turn them against me or laugh at me for them. He's not the type. 

"As do I. What are you doing?" I finally shimmy my jeans off and hop into my pajama pants, tugging them up onto my hips. 

"Getting ready for bed, you?" 

"Just listening to some music, trimming some of the plants." I hear him start humming along and find the sound perfectly relaxing. 

"Magnus?" I ask as I click my light off and slide into bed, under the boring black blanket, the room drenched in darkness. 

"Hm?" He hums in response. 

"Will you stay on the phone with me until I fall asleep?" I ask pathetically. But as I expected, he concedes with no judgment. 

"Of course, Alexander. Anything for you." I reply with a sleepy hum of my own, sinking down into my pillows with the phone propped under my head, listening to the faint sounds of music mixed with Magnus' melodic voice until I drift to sleep. 

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A/N: Hello anyone whose reading this! I lost motivation for this story but it's finally starting to come back, two updates in one day, wow! Anyway, please share, vote, and comment to let me know how you like the story so far and if there is anything you'd like to see happen! I'm always up for suggestions and discussions!

-thespilledpoet