Funny how I originally sat down to work on my multi-chapter story and then came up with this... Oh, well. One thing at a time.

When I first had the idea for this, it was to be written in the third person and in the past tense, as if someone was looking back and remembering it. For some reason, that didn't work for me and so I tried second person and present tense. Surprisingly, it was much closer to how I had wanted it to be. Funny how that works :P

This story was inspired by the song "Polish Girl" by Neon Indian. It's a lovely song; give it a listen :)

Disclaimer: How sad would it be if I actually owned The Mortal Instruments and still wrote fanfiction for it? I mean, really?

~ Tip of the Tongue ~

This is chaos, you think, as you lean back your head and inhale the scent of sweat and cigarette smoke. Bodies are pushing up against you from all sides and you're finding it hard to focus even with your heightened senses as the flashing lights make everything you see syncopated and distorted. Familiar hands are sliding down to rest on your hips as the person behind you guides you into a deliciously languid dance, and you find yourself nearly laughing as you think of what a bad time it would be to tell him that you're sort of ticklish.

"Tonight we live in the moment," was all he said to you before grabbing your hand with a grin and leading you through the labyrinth of street and back alleys to this place that seems almost more magical than any of the truly supernatural things that you encounter in your daily life.

He is whispering in your ear then but you can't make out the words over the pounding bass, and are only made aware of it by the movement of his lips against your skin and the heat of his breath. It doesn't matter either way, because one moment you are in the thick of the crowd and the next you find your back being pressed against the brick wall outside, and his lips meeting yours in a gentle but insistent kiss.

Your thoughts are reeling, spinning in a manner that reflects the movement of the celestial bodies dancing in circles in the night sky above, but still you find the courage to weave your fingers through his hair and tilt your head up to meet him.

It lasts maybe a moment or an eternity, and then you and he break apart to breathe.

You can see your breath in the cold air, and you startle as you realize that you hadn't even noticed it was cold outside.

This is a sobering thought, and the nagging worry starts off like an alarm in the back of your mind. You might have realized it sounded a lot like your parents' voices had you given thought to it, but at the current time your thoughts are on something else.

Has anyone noticed I'm gone?

You feel a hand on your chin and you look up. His eyes draw you back in. They seem to say to you again, 'Live in the moment,' and you remember how it had startled you when you saw them the first time; so different than anything you'd seen on a person, yet perhaps that was why you liked them so much. This time, you lean in swiftly and press your lips to his; it lacks the finesse that he had, maybe, but it is executed with no less enthusiasm.

In that moment, you are more than the almost-adult who existed in the shadow of his adopted brother, and wore his skin as if it didn't fit quite right. You are this person that he sees, the person that is kissing him now – and maybe one day you'll find the strength to be that person.

But for now, your heart is beating a tattoo against your rib cage and it his name that is on the tip of your tongue.

Magnus Bane.

And tonight you suddenly couldn't care less whether they knew you were gone or not.

Thanks for reading :)