f a m i l i a r i t y. - [fierrochase]

fifteen ☀️

MAGNUS ;

"What got you into poetry, anyway?" Alex asked as she drew Magnus' clothes on him, filling in the detailed collar with the markings of reindeer smiley faces.

"It's beautiful." He said as he turned a page on a book he's reading—Vicious, by V.E. Schwab. [literally one of the best books please read this] He was already in the second part of the story, where the characters seemed to leap, seemed to have found their right places in the story—had signified their own roles. "It's like creating art, really." He spoke of his hobby as something more, a passion. "It's like painting, but with a pen. And instead of colors, you get words."

Alex nodded and hummed. "Why did you wear that sweater, by the way?"

"Shut up." Magnus said and grunted, in a playful manner. "You ruined the moment."

     Alex laughed. "Were we having a moment?" She asked out with a playful smile. Magnus had time to actually blush. It wasn't always, but Alex had this tendency to ruin Magnus' mind's flow—how she disrupt his thoughts and reduce him to babbling or blushing mess. It was quite hard for Magnus to really get used to Alex Fierro's zeal for mischief, her naughtiness. Sure, he was sassy as fuck, but having to deal with Alex? Having to deal with feelings? With emotions? With those goddamn butterflies in his tummy? He would almost choke and kill himself from all the obliviousness from not knowing what the hell must he do.

And Alex's attributes didn't help, too. Those heterochromatic eyes that have got Magnus writing so many poems—those eyes that seemed to weigh his actions, and carry a ton of emotions he have not known yet. Those eyes that got him wavering, that got him feeling many things he didn't want to feel. He wasn't practically cheesy or anything, he just hated (and secretly liked) the way those eyes would bore themselves into him, as if they were a mirage—something unreal, an illusion. And that smile, a playful, boastful and confident smile Alex seemed to have permanently practiced to have. It was her trademark—an enigmatic characteristic that every time Magnus would see that, there was only one thing that made its way to his mind, Alex's sass.

Magnus buried his red face in his hands, an attempt to hide his blush. "Stop it." He said as Alex laughed at him again. And her laugh—her laugh. It was like a melody, a harmonic rupture to the silence. And Magnus would've, could've wrote thousands of poems, only by that laughter.

"I was just messing with you!" She said as she settled down her sketch pad, a drawing of Magnus obscured the white page. Alex had been drawing Magnus earlier, not really realizing what she was doing. Magnus stared at the paper, his face had had that glint of smile Magnus displayed earlier when she was talking to Alex about the familiar righteousness of how Alex would draw him—and there she did again.

"Why are you so good at arts?" Magnus complained as he picked up the sketch pad. Alex shrugged. "I don't really know. It just comes naturally, you know. With the flick of my hands, a stroke of the wrist—you'll just let your hand guide you to what your eyes could see, or what your mind can make up."

"And you just turned poetic."

"Yeah, I do that."

"But really, can I ask? I know this may seem rude, but I just want to know. When did you realize that you were what you are, for example, the green hair?" Magnus pointed at the flock of green hair, he felt like an asshole really. But curiosity got the best of him, smacking him in the face with the utter realization that Alex might think of him as this bastard who wanted to know why or how or what the fuck is wrong with Alex . But Alex only laughed again, a tinge of sadness and guilt in her eyes as she laid back on the couch.

"It used to be dark brown, really. Almost black, but passable as brown." She looked down on her hands. "I used to be—umm. How do I say this without having to make you uncomfortable?" Magnus only stared at her, she was finally opening up to him and really, why would he be uncomfortable? He would be okay to hear what was Alex's backstory—what was behind the mask she always wore, what was adjacent to that reflection of a fractured, inverted soul?

Magnus cleared his throat. "I'm not uncomfortable in anything I'll hear—but if you don't want to say it, it's okay. I understand." He smiled at Alex but Alex only shook her hand.

"No, but I'd really like to tell you actually. Not much people really know about me—telling you, that would be great for me." She somewhat smiled at him back. She didn't really know, but telling Magnus about her life, telling him what had happened and why this, why that. It just felt right to tell him. And Magnus was really glad that finally—finally, he would hear what was beyond that outer shell.

"I used to be a boy. I think that's already obvious with all the rumors at the university." She took in a breath as Magnus listened. "I didn't really like all that—sports, although I'm quite good at that. I didn't like the way people would call me he and call me a boy. Heck, I didn't like all those things a boy would do. But there are times I did."

Magnus had scanned her face. "And just at the sprout of my teen years, I realized I wasn't who I was supposed to be—wasn't who I want to be. So I changed." She continued telling him her story, leaving out a few details about her family. But Magnus was okay with that, Magnus was okay with anything Alex would be comfortable of. That's what mattered to Magnus—as long as Alex would be comfortable, then it's okay to him.

"But really, who was I? I was always changing—versatile, even. I didn't want to be just one, I didn't want to be labeled as only this, only what society accepted. It was kind of rebellious, but I didn't want to stick to one gender, so why can't I be all?" She smiled confidently. "Genderfluidity, that's one of the best things to have in life, really. Or at least for me. So, yeah—that's all, I guess?" She shrugged.

Magnus had a smile on his face. "Versatile, yep. You're goddamn versatile alright." He laughed and Alex only tilted her head, a questioning look on her face. "I guess I should tell you things too." Magnus cleared his throat, and the familiar feeling of that pre-telling a friend something beyond her knowledge about you had swept over him, and the feeling of this being just the right thing—being the best thing to do right now. "I've actually not cared about genders at all. I mean yeah, I'm a boy—but genders of people I would get attracted to, or people I would call my friends or lovers. I didn't really care what gender I would be paired to, and really, that's better because—why should I limit myself from being attracted to only one gender when I can be attracted to all?"

[see what i did there people?

Alex: I didn't want to stick to one gender, so why can't I be all?

Magnus: Why would I limit myself from being attracted to only one gender when I can be attracted to all?

Yes, this bitch leaving signs.]

Alex smiled at Magnus. "You're pan. That's cute how you actually avoided saying it." Magnus had reddened again and put his face in his hands. There was nothing wrong with being called a pansexual—in fact, he liked it—but the mischievous smile Alex had on her face? That was what averted Magnus from staying as calm and composed as anybody would.

"Yeah." He said and raised up his head. "It was for the sake of poetry." He raised up his hands and acted as if he was Hamlet, with a skull in his hands as he recited lines.

"Dork." Alex snorted with a laugh.

"You're a dork." Magnus smiled.

"You're a dork!" Alex insisted and laughed at Magnus.

It was these times when Magnus had realized, had finally admitted to himself that—heck yes—he did like Alex Fierro.

———

Guess who updated again;)

Me. Aha