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Dinner with the King

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The table was set. As usual, Magnus had gone all out. His motto in life was ‘above and beyond or nothing at all’, after all. Candles flickered gently, casting the table in a warm, golden glow. The food smelled divine, perfectly plated and ready to eat with a few quick movements of Magnus’s hands. The silverware gleamed, soft, elegant music played in the background, and little rose petals, the same color as the rich tablecloth, floated on water in little vases at the center of the table around the largest candle. Everything was perfect, which was just how Magnus liked it. Only the best, after all.

“This is...somewhere new, admittedly. A bit on the unusual side, but I can make just about anything work, so this was kind of a piece of cake.” The warlock said, fixing a single wrinkle in the tablecloth before pulling the high backed chair, one of two,  from its spot at the table and taking his seat. He let out a sigh, looking around at the warm colored walls surrounding the table, tones of beige and brown and red and orange. It was nowhere near as elegant as their usual accommodations, but he’d managed to pull it off. He looked down at the food before him - one of his favorites, actually. Butter chicken, the soft and tender golden chicken sitting in a delicious curry sauce, the smell alone enough to make his mouth water. He picked up his fork and knife, cutting his first bite. He chewed, swallowed, let his eyes close as he let out a hum of appreciation. Perfect. Opening his eyes again, he lifted his glass of wine - tonight a rich, dark red - and took a sip, washing it down before speaking once more. “I’ll have to make this for us one day. Shouldn’t be too hard.” 

The warlock set his glass down, rubbing the cold condensation that had rubbed off of the glass between his thumb and forefinger for a moment before tucking in. After a few bites, he spoke once more.

“You know… I’ve missed you, Alexander. To be honest, more than I care to admit. It’s been… difficult, without you.” Magnus said. “Waking up alone, without you, not being able to talk to you, to hold you, it - well, it’s been hell, humorously enough.” he gave a wry chuckle, bitter undertones just detectable. “I can’t stop thinking about you. Can’t stop worrying, wondering what you’re doing, if you’re okay. I know you’re an adult, a Shadowhunter, you can fend for yourself, but I can’t help it.” Setting his fork and knife down, he dabbed at his lips with his napkin before reaching over for his wine glass with a ringed hand. His engagement ring caught the dim light for a moment, gleaming, and Magnus felt himself take a sharp breath. He swallowed thickly and shook his head a bit, running the tip of his index finger along the cool, smooth rim of the wine glass, looking at the dark liquid inside. “It might be pathetic, I don’t know, but I...I can’t help but hope that you’ll walk through the door, and-” he paused, finally looking up. His expectant gaze went immediately to the entryway of his father’s palace, and the hopeful glow quickly dimmed. He wasn’t even disappointed, not anymore. Being honest with himself, he hadn’t expected his Shadowhunter lover to be there, he’d looked so often and so often had been greeted with the same sight - nothing. 

Magnus Bane shook his head, blinking away the tears that had welled up in his eyes as best he could as he picked up his fork and knife once more, eyes once again on his plate. He wouldn’t ruin his eyeliner, even if the food that had been so delicious only minutes ago now seemed bland and tasteless. 

What had he expected? 

Even he wasn’t magical enough to bring his fiance back to him.