Magnus wasn't sure what woke him up exactly.
There was a muffled sound in the distance, like someone just threw something on the ground, but the warlock was in a way too comfortable position to care. His whole body was in a constant state of relaxation, a rare feeling he got the pleasure to hold these days.
Although - that was actually a lie.
He lived many decades - centuries - with the certainty that however you would look at it, in the end he would fall asleep with someone by his side but wake up - alone. Even in the very few more serious relationships he had found himself in, he could never grasp that feeling of being safe and sound in the morning. He tried to avoid thinking back to those days when he felt like nothing actually mattered - that no one would miss him anyway, because no one cared enough to stay not only in the morning, but for longer.
Yes, he was immortal and yes he knew those thoughts weren't fair to all of his partners. They tried, most of them, but it was still not enough for him. And who could really blame him when all he ever wanted was-
Magnus smiled as he felt a steady breath ghosting over his neck slowly blinked his eyes open. The bedroom was filled with a soft golden light, it must be close to noon already and with a quick glance to the window he saw small white flakes dancing through the air.
Every season brought back memories - some more painful than the others and with winter it was a bitter sweet one. He can't remember His name, or the way He talked, only how they danced over an iced lake somewhere in Russia. Was it a century ago? Or even longer? Magnus can't remember but he doesn't need to - the thought of the snowflakes was all he had to see to help him keeping this memory.
And it's all it will ever be - a memory of something he once had.
But he started living in the here and now; found someone again, a man who loved him just for who he was and it made his heart beat faster immediately. It's been a little over three years now and they've been through a lot. They had their ups and downs, witnessed a breakdown or two and survived a war - a war that left scars on everyone, and not just physical ones.
When Magnus lost his magic he felt - empty. He felt like the biggest part of his whole being, his entire existence just got taken from him and that without it he was nothing. A nobody. Someone who was useless for the world, for his friends, his love.
He felt so vulnerable.
He's never been good when it came to dealing with a greater loss. He always thought that nothing could come even close to the feeling he witnessed when he found his mother's dead body.
How wrong he was.
The moment he knelt down besides Alec lying on the cold concrete, cradling his head in his hands, an arrow stuck in his chest - knowing he wasn't able to help him - it all came crashing down on him. Alec's eyes had been searching his, cracking a smile and making a terrible try to lighten the mood by telling him how his mother said he'd make a dramatic entrance. And Magnus can't help but wondering how he deserved him, how after everything he went through, Alec still saw him like before - as a person, a man and not a warlock.
His heart clenched a little when he thought back to the morning after Alec woke from the little coma Catarina had to put him in to heal his wounds. How exhausted he looked, how his eyes once again searched for his and how he was able to see right through Magnus' walls. He seemed to instantly know that he wasn't alright at all either, even though Magnus pretended to be because at least one of them had to be strong after all, right? It all came crushing down on him as Alec reached for his hand and squeezed it in such an understanding and loving way that Magnus feared he'd burst because of the overwhelming love he felt for the shadowhunter at that moment. That night they held each other closer than they ever did before.
