They’re both a little cracked around the edges, both their hearts are tender and bruised but they’re careful with each other, and though Alec can’t speak for Magnus, he knows that being with Magnus is healing his own. Magnus makes him feel special in a way that Alec had never felt before – never thought he’d be able to feel. It’s – incomparable.

There’s just something about him, a quality, that draws Magnus, to his pretty doe eyes and his curved pink lips and the golden heart that beats behind aching ribs. There’s an innocence behind the stoicism, a sense of care behind the righteous duty, an intention of pure good behind the scowl that marks his forehead. Alec is nothing like Magnus expected from a Shadowhunter, and as charming as that is, it’s also dangerous.

There’s nothing to say that would encompass all that he feels, no words exist in any language that could come close, because what he and Alec have is so different than anything else, it’s special and fantastic and beautifully all their own.

Alec understands the weight of his promise, and he means it, with every broken, hopeful piece of him. He doesn’t want to go where Magnus can’t follow, so the solution is simple – he simply won’t.