Chiaroscuro (Malec AU)

6

The anticipation neared the extent that Magnus could bear; his eyes darted to and from the watch on his wrist, again and again, his leg bouncing as his foot tapped restlessly against the floor. Time moved forward like a river of molasses, each second seemed an hour, each hour a day, the slowness of it excruciating. He stood on his balcony, leaning on the banister, nursing his second cocktail and watching the city below carry on with its day. A spring breeze caressed the streets, cool and gentle, ruffling Magnus's hair and bringing with it the scents of Brooklyn's broad array of cuisine; the sharp scent of garlic and marinara sauce from Tony's pizzeria on the corner, the savory aroma of Spanish tapas from The Castilian down the block, rich smells of ginger and sesame from the Thai place across the street, the sweet fragrance of freshly baked goods and robust perfume of coffee grounds from the cafè next door. Magnus took a sip of his drink as an ambulance wailed past his apartment. A little ways away, a taxi cab honked its horn, while an angry pedestrian hurled insults and rude gestures.

On a normal day, Magnus could watch the city below for hours, observing as people went about their daily lives until he wondered where the time went. Today, it seemed, no matter how fast the city moved, time remained at a stand still.

And if it didn't hurry up, he was going to fucking scream.

Magnus sighed and downed the rest of his cocktail in one go, walking back inside his apartment to place the glass in the kitchen sink. He willed away the urge to glance at his watch, instead grabbing an easel and a blank canvas and setting them up on the balcony. The sun had begun to sink below the skyline, the light reflecting off the tallest towers like a thousand cut diamonds.

Magnus picked up his brush and began to paint.

He started with the colors of the early evening sky, beginning with the cool blues and purples and working his way down to the warm oranges and reds and calming splashes of yellow. With feather-light strokes, he added the narrow tendrils of wispy clouds, illuminated by the setting sun. He then added the countless towers of glass standing resplendent in the dying light, each a jewel set in the crown of the Earth.

He worked and worked until the sun disappeared and the city lit up around him like stars on a clear summer night. He lost himself in his art and in time, the hands on the clock sweeping past the hours.

His doorbell rang and Magnus jolted from his trance. He looked down at his watch.

Eight o'clock. Magnus smiled. Right on time.

Magnus removed his smock, laying it across a stool, and bounded over to the door. He flipped the lock.

"Evening, Magnus." Alec stood in the doorway with his hands behind his back and a polite smile spreading across his features. He had dressed surprisingly casual, wearing a gray shirt, black jeans and a black collared jacket. Alec seemed much more relaxed than when they first met, despite the slight tension he carried in his shoulders.

"Evening, Alexander. Please, come in." Magnus grinned at him with as much charm as he could muster, and motioned for him to enter. Alec's gaze dropped to the side, a shy smile replacing the polite one from a moment ago. Adoration pulled on Magnus's heart at the sight. Never in his life had he witnessed shyness expressed so exquisitely.

Alec entered and glided past, taking in his surroundings. He took his time considering the apartment's historic architecture, the canvasses piled along the floor and in corners, the finished paintings on the walls, the various art supplies strewn about on tables, the collection of books on the shelves, and the inspiring vista of Manhattan twinkling past the ledge of the balcony.

"You have a beautiful apartment." He said.

"Thank you, pardon the mess." Magnus strode over to his mini bar and grabbed a bottle of wine. "Would you like a drink?"