“Try and be happy for me.”
He’s trying. His face goes through the motions, lips pulling up, eyes trying to appear kind. Magnus has magic again. He seems more himself than Alec has seen since his return from Edom. Whatever he felt like he was missing before, he has it back now, and of course Alec wants to be happy for him. He just… can’t. Because something’s off, and he can’t figure out what.
He isn’t unhappy for Magnus, but the idea of Magnus being a place low enough to even turn to Lorenzo, let alone give him something that matters so much to him, is troubling. And then there’s the magic itself - yellow and foreign. He knows the feel of Magnus’ magic, and this isn’t it. It’s magic, but it isn’t his magic, no matter how much he keeps insisting it is. There’s more to it but Magnus isn’t talking, which is troubling part number two.
And finally there’s the loft. Not Magnus’ loft, not any more. Lorenzo’s loft. Just the thought makes Alec’s skin crawl, to imagine that pathetic excuse for a man waltzing in here to take possession over it, as if taking this part of Magnus isn’t one step away from ripping away a piece of him. But not just of Magnus.
“It’s just a thing,” Magnus said about it, but he’s wrong. It’s more than just a thing, to both of them , and Alec knows Magnus feels that loss just as much as he does, even if he won’t admit it.
Alec wonders if Magnus even stopped to consider how Alec would feel about losing the apartment. The place Alec first allowed himself to feel anything for Magnus, where he first spent the night, where he stayed for a drink even when he knew he shouldn’t… it’s the place Alec first started to be honest with himself about who he was and what he wanted. And it’s the first place he felt entirely welcome as his true self from the first moment he stepped through the door. The touches, the kisses, the declarations of trust and love; there’s never been another place he’s felt more loved or more accepted.
It’s the place Alec considers home, more so than any room at the Institute or home in Alicante. It’s the place he pictured himself moving in to, the balcony he planned to propose on, the living room he envisioned raising a family, and if he’s lucky and the Angel allows, where he saw himself growing old.
And now he’s devastated at the loss of it, but he does his best not to show it, because the guilt of how affected Alec is by this will hurt Magnus more than Alec is willing to bear right now. Not when he’s just starting to feel like himself again.
It was home. And now it’s gone.
...Alexander Lightwood tries to remember how to smile. He tries to be happy.