MY COMPUTER HATES ME! I just barely managed to get this up here before my cpu shut down. Stupid Mac. So, if there are any grammatical or spelling errors I am deeply sorry. Kill the computer, not me. But it might be a few days before I upload next.
I apologize if this doesn't make a lot of sense. Hopefully it will become clearer with time. Reviews are cherished with all my heart!
Disclaimer: I own none of these characters. I only wish I did.
Magnus jumped to his feet and threw the Book of the White. It hit the glitter-painted wall with a smack and rustle of paper, crashing to the carpet in an explosion of clothes and make-up. Burying his face in his hands, Magnus collapsed back onto his bed, the sound of creaking springs grating against his ears.
Faintly, he heard his phone ring, a high trilling warble that made the pigeons perched on his windowsill shriek their displeasure. He didn't even look to see who it was; he just scraped it angrily from the nightstand, burying it under the messy sheets. He didn't want to talk to anyone. He wanted to wallow in self-pity.
Why? His mind screamed, and he lashed out, thumping his foot against the recliner, again and again. Pain lanced up his leg, but he didn't stop. It was an easier pain, one with simple cause and effect. One he could drive away if he wanted to. But he didn't. Why? Why? Why?
His phone screeched again, it's sound muffled by layers of daisy-yellow cotton. Yelling, Magnus darted up, shifting everything his hands touched on top of the phone, until it was drowned out in silk and his own voice. Catching a glimpse of himself in the floor-length mirror across the room, the warlock let out a little gasp.
Dark bruise-colored bags hung beneath his eyes, the yellow irises shining with unshed tears. He still wore the shirt and pants he had worn to dinner two days ago, but now they were stained and crumpled, hanging loose over his slim shoulders. There was no gel in his hair, but it stuck out erratically of it's own accord, falling in his face and buzzing with static cling.
The silence was thick and heavy and so long that the next time his phone rang, he could hear it even buried beneath his endless piles of crap.
"Dammit!" he swore, clapping his hands to his ears and pressing, as if he wanted to squeeze out his eyeballs. His face turned an ugly beet red underneath it's normal gold sheen. "Shut up!"
His phone didn't stop ringing. Every time it cut off, it started up again, the same maddening, mind numbing tune. From the living room, Chairman Meow cried, pawing at the bedroom door. Magnus fought back the urge to scream.
Everything was wrong. Wrong, wrong, wrong. It wasn't supposed to be this way. There was supposed to be 'happily ever after'. That's what happened in fairy tales. Everything was supposed to be perfect and good and right. But no. Everything was wrong. Wrong, wrong, wrong.
Magnus felt like he was going insane. He hadn't slept in days, he barely ate, he didn't go outside. All he did was sit in his room and read that stupid book. And for what? Nothing. No one could help him. Nothing could help him. He was cursed. Damned. And Alec would suffer just as greatly.
That was the nail in the coffin. He much didn't care what happened to him. He'd been around too long to care. But Alec—sweet, awkward, wonderful Alec—would be dragged down with him. And that he couldn't bear. He wouldn't bear it.
Ring, ring, ring.
"ARGH!" Magnus cried, dropping his hands to his sides and getting to his knees. Silk and satin slid over his fingers as he tossed clothes aside. They fell around him like a rainbow fairy ring. It was a minute before he came away with the slim bedazzled cell phone in one hand, the glow from the screen giving his face a ghostly blue pallor.
The number decked out in thick block letters was instantly recognizable. Isabelle.
Before he even thought about it, Magnus was flipping open the phone and pressing the green 'answer' button.
"Hello?" he said. His voice was hoarse and disused. He cleared his throat. "Hello?"
"Magnus?" Isabelle rasped. The way she said his name was quiet, tremulous, doubtful.
Who else would be answering my phone? He thought the words, but all he said was, "yes."
There was a sharp crackling and a rush of static on the other end. Heavy, labored breathing. Isabelle made a choking noise. It sounded like she'd been crying.
"Yes, Isabelle, what is it?" Magnus asked, getting impatient. He felt his heart pound desperately against his ribcage, anticipating her next words. No. No. No. No, it can't be. No. Anything else. Anyone else. Not him. No.
"It's Alec."
Oh how I love/hate a cliffhanger. You'll find out what Magnus got him soon, I promise.