Bloom (Malec)

Questions and Answers

We walk into Magnus' house, high on life and the feeling of freedom for the first time in forever. Magnus' hand in mine feels like a lifeline, and I feel alive in ways I never would've dared hope for. But it's the way his hand loosens in mine and drops to his side that sobers me. 

I look up and see a man that looks somewhat like Magnus, the same facial structure as him, if not a bit more masculine, less beautiful, more ruggedly handsome. His eyes are darker than Magnus', a burnt whisky, and I find I can't place where Magnus gets his unique amber eyes from. The man is tall in stature and thin but built, his dark hair pushed back up in the front and neatly combed in the sides.  He's obviously young, just like Adley, his wife. 

"Hello, father," Magnus greets in a clipped tone, causing me to raise a brow at him quickly before returning my attention to his father. 

"Magnus, and who is this?" His voice is a bit deeper than I would've imagined, and he looks strict and intimidating in his navy police uniform. 

"This is Alexander," Magnus shifts his weight before continuing, staring at the hardwood floors. "My boyfriend." 

"Hello, Mr. Bane, it's nice to finally meet you," I make to step forward, glad I kept the shake out of my voice, but Magnus' hand on my wrist stops me. 

"I think it's time for you to go home now, Alexander, Magnus has chores to do." 

"Oh, I wasn't aware, I didn't mean to intrude..." I let my voice drift off, unsure what to do. On one hand, it's none of my business. This is between Magnus and his father, and who am I to stick myself in the middle? But on the other hand, this is Magnus and he is my business. His well-being and happiness have become a high priority for me, and I find I can't turn around and leave him here when he's so obviously uncomfortable. 

"Magnus was actually supposed to be coming to my home to meet my parents officially if that's not too much of a problem, sir," I improvise, folding my hands in front of me. His father's hard gaze lands on me and I swallow my fear, replacing it with false confidence I don't fully feel. 

"Is that so," he muses coolly, crossing his stiff arms in front of him and appraising me. I nod and stand my ground, feeling Magnus' eyes on me. 

"He's right, I need to meet his parents, it's only polite," Magnus adds on to my lie, stepping toward me and resting a hand faintly on my back. His father's watchful eyes miss nothing and I see his jaw tense minusculely. 

"Alright then, I'll see you tomorrow, Magnus, and I would like you home for dinner. We have some things to discuss." Mr. Bane turns on his heel and strides out of the room, leaving a cold tension in his departure. 

"Well, that was something," I mumble more to myself than Mag's, turning to look at him. He meets my eyes with a sheepish smile, obviously embarrassed, but I just kiss it away. "It looks like we've both got our familial baggage, huh?" I try to lighten the mood, earning a real smile for my efforts. 

"Looks like it," Magnus takes my hand and we leave the house, sliding back into his car. 

"Where to?" I ask him, knowing it's probably best if we actually avoid my house, specifically my mother. It's easier to just keep her and Magnus separate in my life, easier on my emotions and heart if they exist on different wavelengths. 

"I'm not sure...it's become kind of difficult already, hasn't it?" He wonders aloud as he begins to drive up the road. The traffic is fairly easy for early afternoon, light especially for a Saturday, though in the suburban areas it tends to be a bit nicer. 

"We never thought it'd be easy," I argue mildly, drumming my fingers against the dash. 

"But that just means it'll be worth it later on when things finally fall into place. It'll mean we just have to work harder to get there, but won't it all be far more appealing once we've fought for it?" I'm unsure if Magnus is trying to convince himself or me at this point, but I don't have anything to respond with. I won't give him the argument I know he's looking for. I simply nod and watch as he drives up the familiar road until it gets bumpy, taking us up to the lake where we went several weeks ago, the first time we spent time together. 

We walk up the worn trail together, not holding hands, though mine tingles in the absence and I long to close the gap between us. It feels so wide. 

Magnus perches himself on a large rock and stares at the rushing water. I stand several feet back, taking him in, in this place that has become a second home for him. The tension between him and his father was nearly corporeal, and I was finally given a small hint of insight into the things that Magnus hides behind his ever-present grin and cheekiness. The vulnerable parts of him that are human, just like everyone else, that ache and hurt sometimes. 

We don't speak, just soaking up the detached feeling of being so far out of the city, of knowing that if we never went back, no one would know where to look. It's only darkened by the fact that we are people with families, jobs and responsibilities. That time is a figment that we all heavily rely on, and that at some point, this charade we've created of being free will be shattered. 

"What about when summer ends?" Magnus asks, his voice breaking the crowded silence after awhile. 

"What do you mean?" 

"I mean us, what about when summer ends. We'll be in our senior year, you'll be caught up with things like valedictorian and student body president, I'll be wound up in prom committee and ditching class. You'll be with your friends, I have mine, and where will that leave us? Will there still be enough time, enough space for it?" His tone is light and casual, but I know him and can hear the pain and fear hidden beneath the surface. I walk forward, the grass high up to my knees now and I lean my chin on his shoulder, winding my arms around his waist from behind and letting my eyes fall on the lucid water. 

"Someone once told me that we can make anything work if we're willing to try," I counter easily, breathing in his familiar scent and noticing the way it calms me to my bones. My soul no longer stutters and my busy mind falls silent when I'm near him. 

"I won't ask you to choose me over your life, Alexander," he murmurs, subdued from his usual self, his self-consciousness seeping into his facade.

"You wouldn't have to. You'll never have to ask because you'll always have your answer." He turns his face to me gently, our lips so close I can feel his breath on my mouth. 

"Will I?" He whispers, his voice almost drowned out by the rushing water and the sounds of the afternoon birds and wildlife surrounding us. I lean in and press my lips to his, shutting my eyes and pulling him impossibly closer, trying to convey to him that he's my answer, he will always be my answer. 

And when he kisses me back, I know he understands.