I wrote this as an assignment a long time ago and I just found it, so I thought I'd share it with you. It takes place between the fifth and the sixth book. Hope you enjoy it!

Dear Magnus,

After trying to get in contact with you by calling you, sending you messages and even coming to your house, for each time being ignored on purpose, I send this letter as a last resource: my last chance. I've promised myself this is the last try I'll take to get you back. Maybe, when you read my name in the envelop, with that calligraphy I know you hate but you always call adorable, you'll burn it without opening it; or perhaps, your curiosity is such, that you end up waiting some of your time satisfying your thirst for gossip. I'll try to make it short

If I must be honest, when I met you I found your personality weird and overwhelming. I wouldn't had gotten close to you if it hadn't been for your, as strange as yourself, interest in me. And it wasn't because I liked your flushing insinuations or your constant displays of affection, I'd like t think that now you know me enough to know I'm no fond of them. You stroke me as a mysterious puzzle I had to solve. An enigma suited up in a flamboyant costume and showered in glitter that totally captivated me. At the beginning you where like a unicorn, a magnificent yet ethereal creature too superior to me, but with time I started to appreciate your perplexing comments and your blinding attire, until the point where I miss them every second of the day.

I still don't know how it happened, but it wasn't my fault, I must assure you. We went from sharing furtive exchanges in those seldom times I was able to distract my sister, and you already know how hard is that, to me staying more hours in your house than I did in mine, being the only one who fed your cat( and yes, in case you've forgotten, you do own a cat, and as all living things it needs food. Feed him.)

I've never been the best in the mater of expressing my own feelings, not with my friend nor my family, same as you find it hard to talk about you. They are our flaws

I also have other flaws, like jealousy as you have already experienced at first hand, and stubbornness.

And these were what provoked that, until you left me there standing in that cold and abandoned station, until you didn't confess that you loved me despite I had deceived you, I couldn't realize realize two things. Firstly, that you love me. And even if that may make me an idiot, it's the true. Even when you repeated those three words a thousand time before, it wasn't until that moment that they acquired a meaning. And the second one... I would have really wanted to say this word in person, but I was never able to, and I'll regret it my whole life.

I love you,

Yours always,

Alec Lightwood