This has to be the shortest one-shot I've ever written.
I don't know why I wrote in second-person, so don't ask. Maybe I was looking for a challenge. *shrugs*
Disclaimer: I don't own MI, or any of its characters. If I did, Malec would still be together and this wouldn't have had to be written.
One more call, that's it. If he doesn't pick up this time, you'll stop calling. You promise yourself this over and over as the phone rings. You sit, fingers crossed, thinking maybe this is the time he'll finally pick up.
As the ringing goes on longer and longer, your hope does not diminish, no, if anything it strengthens your hope because he hasn't clicked 'ignore'. Okay, maybe he's silenced the ringer, but he hasn't clicked—
You phone abruptly hangs up. You curse once, softly, under you breath because no one can know how much this hurts you, because you are the oldest, the strongest of all your siblings. You have to stay strong.
Magnus . . .
His name brings a shine to your eyes, tears springing to action behind the irises, which you close along with the rest of the eye to keep the wretched
things back.
When you open your blue — cerulean, he called them — eyes again, they instantly harden.
Forgetting your earlier vow not to call again unless he picked up, you dial his number once more, jaw set in a determined frown.
Jace broke your phone.
Jace broke your phone.
How dare he! He doesn't know what it's like to be completely and utterly heartbroken, completely and utterly alone in the world. He doesn't know a damn thing at all, you think, grinding your teeth together.
Scrounging up as many quarters as you can find, you head out into the city, looking for a pay phone.
You see many pay phones — a surprise, considering the amount of cellphones in this city — but none that will suit your taste. You don't want a phone that's positioned right beside a busy bus stop. It's too out in the open, too revealing.
Finally, finally, you finds the mother of all pay phones. Nothing special at first glance, but on a nearly-empty street, without a single bus stop in sight.
You jam a couple quarters into the machine, and dial the only number you can remember off by heart.
It rings twice, just twice, and then: "Hello?"
And it's him, really him. Not some voicemail message or shit like that, but the real, live Magnus.
"Magnus?" You asks anyway, voice coming out as a croak. "It's—"
"I know damn well who it is," the voice on the other side snaps, voice suddenly freezing cold and sharper than broken glass. "What happened, did Jace break your cellphone or did you finally realise that I'm not going to answer calls if I know they're from you?"
You swallow hard. "Yes to the first."
A laugh from the other side. Humourless, but a laugh nonetheless. "I was kidding about that, but alright then."
"Magnus, I'm sorry." You can't keep yourself from saying. "I don't know how to tell you how sorry I am. It's like a knife, and, without getting too poetic here, it feels like it's literally ripping me apart."
There's nothing but static from Magnus' side, so you continue, heart heavy. "Believe me, I've felt pain before, had near-death experiences, but nothing — none of that even comes close to what it feels like to wake up every morning, stretch out, and feel nothing beside me. I miss you, Magnus, and it's killing me."
Still nothing from the other side, and you wonder if he's hung up and you just didn't notice. "Magnus?" You ask timidly.
Then you hear the tell-take clunk of a person hanging up, and you can do nothing but stand rooted to the ground, frozen in shock.
Immediately, you shove your hand in your pocket and pull out a fistful of quarters, ignoring the ones that slip from your grasp and clatter to the pavement below.
You shove them into the machine, dial that number again, and wait.
And wait.
And wait.
The phone hangs up, so you put in more quarters and dial once more. The phone rings, so you wait impatiently for him to pick up.
And wait.
And wait.
And wait.
The dial tone blares in your ear.
Reviews are my drug. And my review-highs prompt writing. *Hint hint*