Stubbornly In Love

(1) Broken Walls Lead To Tears

A/N: This was meant to be a oneshot but It was taking too long so now it's chaptered! Yay? You can blame tumblr btw... It's not beta-read so feel free to point out mistakes! 

The immediate pain of a break-up is nothing – nothing at all – in comparison to the pain that surfaces after you've unleashed your rage and experienced the rush of both grief and relief. The pain that comes after you've realised your decision and come to terms with the loss of someone who held, and maybe still holds, a place in your heart is simply ineffable.

Magnus knows this, and he knew this in the moments before he made his choice, but knowledge doesn't always prevent the shock usually accompanying matters of the heart. He knew, he absolutely knew, what it would feel like, but he hadn't imagined how different it would feel to all those times before. He's an immortal and he's not subtle, nor is he shy, so it's safe to say he's had more than his fair share of relationships, both cherished, unforgettable ones and regrettable, quickly erased ones. Nothing he's ever experienced, however, had prepared him for the agony of parting ways and breaking ties with Alexander Gideon Lightwood.

If obliteration and annihilation had a child, it might come close to resembling the state of his heart.

And yet, he can't bring himself to face the Shadowhunter. He can't bring himself to go back, to talk about what happened, to discuss how they're meant to function - he just can't.

His life becomes a blur. He can remember little details and information necessary to his responsibilities or reputation but he can't recall his routine or which event came before what. Time and time again, he finds himself eating cereal at ten in the evening or making himself sandwiches at ungodly times, mostly very, very late at night or very, very early in the morning. He's almost forgotten what makeup is because the only time he wears it is when he's meeting a client - not that he remembers much of the meetings, simply taking and completing their request as if on autopilot.

Parties are a thing of the past because he knows he can't pay attention to so many people at once and he knows that would reveal his pained heart much more than necessary. He's the High Warlock, he tells himself, he can't be seen as weak or compromised. He wants to be strong, he wants to be brave, he wants to be fierce, but he can't even feed his cat - not that Chairman Meow isn't good at finding his own meals from time to time - and he feels so useless, so utterly useless, that even talking to someone else requires more energy than he can possess, never mind a huge crowd of semi-drunk guests with high expectations.

It's another regular, robotic day when the doorbell scares the life out of him. It wouldn't normally have any effect at all but he'd been so focused on staring at the bluebells on his window, he'd forgotten that people tend to announce their presence by pressing a button outside his apartment. Regardless, he jumps to his feet, pulling the door open as fast as he can, which, admittedly, is pretty slow. So slowly, in fact, that he doesn't register who's at the door until they've wrapped him in an embrace so warm it makes him want to cry.

"Cat..." Magnus whispers, letting his head drop on her shoulder and inhaling the scent of flowers coupled with disinfectant.

He assumes she closes the door because then they're on the couch before he can blink and she's sitting opposite him, both of them with their legs crossed. She creates a blanket and drapes it around his shoulders, smiling sadly.

"I thought you'd never let me in."

Magnus blinks and bites his lip, avoiding her gaze, not wanting her pity. She waits patiently and when he looks up, he finds only concern in her eyes, making him realise that she knows him better than he thinks and he should stop forgetting that. She's not someone he has to be invincible in front of because she's seen him at his worst and stayed with him and he knows she cares enough to put up with anything he goes through because they both know he'd do - and has done - the same for her.

"It says something, you know?" Catarina fills the silence. "It says something that you've given up on keeping me out."

He shrugs; what can he say to that?

"Magnus, I love and respect you, I really do, but you're acting so unlike yourself I can't help but wonder if you make the right decision."

He looks up, swallowing. "I don't know."

The accusation in her eyes softens. "Magnus, are you sure about leaving the shadowhunter? As far as I could see - which is further than you think and sometimes a bit too far - you were the happiest you've ever been with him."

"I know, Cat, but..."

"This isn't like before, Magnus. He was ready to accept you and you, him. It was working..."

Tears form in his eyes. Tears that were evoked long ago, as soon as the love of his life had parted ways with him, as soon as he'd chosen isolation, as soon as he'd shut off the world and crumpled into a powerless shell of shadowed love. The tears fall, finally having the chance to do so, and he can't do anything to stop his vision blurring as his shoulders shake and his breath becomes rocky. They fall incessantly, creating a glistening path along his skin and hindering his ability to argue.

Catarina, like many times before, simply pulls him close and lets him hide his face on her shoulders, his hair tickling the side of his face as he struggles to contain his sobs.

"Oh, Magnus..."

He can't reply, of course; there are few people who can form sentences when sobbing long overdue sobs. Catarina, feeling helpless, just hold him tight and hold her own tears back because melancholy does not suit a soul usually laced with glitter and happiness, a soul radiating confidence and style, a soul full of love and hope and magic.

It's not cute and it's far from beautiful when Magnus cries because when he cries, it means he's held it in for far too long, for longer than most could tolerate. His walls are so high and so deep that to break them is more or less break him but love is a powerful weapon when it wants to be and nobody can arm themselves against it. For Magnus, who's built his walls out of his experiences, to cry is to reveal the city of sadness unusually buried deep underneath his self-designed shields.

It takes the sun to set for Magnus' eyes to exhaust themselves. He inhales and exhales as if he's never had the luxury of breathing before, slowly but surely quietening until he can look Catarina in the eye without his face crumpling.

"Cat... I..."

She shushes him. "Magnus, I'm not ever going to leave you when you need me. Mundanes get ill all the time but it's not every day your oldest friend needs a shoulder to cry on so don't you dare apologise to me."

Despite his tearful eyes, Magnus smiles. It's a small smile, much smaller than his usual smirks and grins and beams, but it's a gesture of appreciation and progressing happiness nonetheless. He pulls back as he says, "Thank you."

"How about we get you to bed and talk about this tomorrow, huh?" Catarina suggests, not really waiting for an answer before taking Magnus' hand and pulling him up, leading him to the spare bedroom because she knows going into his usual one will only bring back loved, painful memories of Alec and Magnus will once again have a sleepless night or worse, one plagued with nightmares.

It seems expelling his bottled grief through his eyes has tired Magnus out as he doesn't complain when she all but manhandles him under the duvet, gently pulling it up over his body and gradually dimming the lights until it's almost too dark for them to see each other. She watches as Magnus' tired eyes droop and his eyelids meet as he struggles to stay awake, apparently not wanting to succumb to slumber just yet.

"Sleep well, Magnus," Catarina whispers, pushing his disheveled hair away from his closing his eyes and waiting until his breathing evens - which doesn't take long because he's barely slept lately - before leaving the room, gently closing the door so as not to wake him up again and then placing wards around his apartment because, whether or not he'd realised, they're weaker than ever, practically an invitation for ignorant, morally corrupt, enemies to take advantage and attack.

She wonders how long this can go on.

Thanks for reading! Did you like it? Have a nice day <3