Author Note: Woops, sorry for being gone so long. Thanks again for all the great feedback!

Chapter Six – Heartbeat

The next thing I know, I'm shaking and rocking back in forth. I feel like I just can't draw enough air into my lungs. My lips and throat and fingers are buzzing. I've got my arms wrapped around myself, my nails digging into my sides so hard it hurts.

I don't know where Magnus is.

I kissed him. Oh my god I kissed him.

My first kiss.

And I'm messing it up.

"Alec?" Magnus' face is in front of mine. His eyes are wide. "Alec, what's happening?"

I can't breathe. I realize I'm crying. Everything just feels so distant and strange. I must be dying.

But it's not that easy. I've done this part before.

I'm having a stupid panic attack and Magnus is going to hate me.

"I'll call an ambulance," Magnus's hands are on my shoulders.

I shake my head furiously, still trying in vain to breathe. He's too close.

I stand up and my forehead knocks into his. I'm still buzzy but the pain in my forehead is sharp and makes my eyes water. He stumbles back, putting a hand to his face. I stare, my vision blurry. He looks at me funny, like he's about to start laughing or yelling at me. I can't tell. I just know that I have to leave and get some air.

I run to the front door and slam it behind me. I make it to the stairwell and stumble down a few flights before curling up on one of the landings. I rock some more and make raspy breaths. I try to count my breaths, but it's hard. I'm still crying. I messed up.

Eventually, the controlled breathing starts to kick in. I feel weak, and I can't hear more than my breathing. My hands are shaking and my throat hurts. But I feel less tense. The air in the stairwell is cool and the concrete feels nice on my back.

I feel high now that I'm not panicking anymore. I hiccup a laugh and rub tears out my eyes.

When I look up, I realize Magnus is standing on the landing above me, staring. He looks a bit pale, probably from shock. I want to curl up and pretend he's not there.

I've humiliated myself.

"...Are you okay?"

I shake my head. I stagger to my feet, but it's hard to keep balance with my legs feeling so weak. I have to steady myself on the wall. I feel a mix of buzziness, overwhelming euphoria, and lingering bits of dread. The nicest thing about having a panic attack is when it's over, I feel absolutely giddy. It's like hitting your face against a wall—it's so great when you stop.

I think I give a weird giggle, but I'm too concentrated on standing upright to really tell. When the buzz starts to die down, I chance a glance at Magnus. He looks concerned, I guess. Maybe weirded out.

Finally, he carefully comes toward me, moving down each stair cautiously, and I cringe back against the wall.

The hurt look on his face makes me want to throw myself down the stairs. But I don't, I just sniffle pathetically. I want to tell him sorry, or anything. But I can't. I'm just that awkward.

I don't sleep that night. I just stare up at the ceiling, my mind in that horrible cycle of hating myself for all the horrible things I've done, and then hating myself some more. I want to cry but I hold in the tears until they go away.

I holed up in my room after the panic attack, and I didn't even come out for dinner. Magnus must hate me. I know he hates me. I screwed up the perfectly reasonable attempt he made to be my friend. I've screwed up every attempt he's made to be friends with me. I wouldn't be surprised if he came to me tomorrow morning and said that he wanted to move out—I wouldn't blame him. I would move away from me if I could.

I toss and turn for the rest of the night, stuck between being too hot to stay under the covers, and too cold not to cuddle up in them.

It's somewhere near 4AM, and I'm deep in thought. I'm thinking about Magnus, and how nice he's been. He hasn't been perfect, sure... He gave me the cold shoulder for a bit, but it was a misunderstanding. He tried to make friends with me when we moved in. He tried to understand my anxiety stuff... He did kind of bad mouth me to his friends, but I would do the same if I was him. If I could talk to people.

I think about our kiss, and my heart speeds up. The sound of it pounds loud in my ears, and I feel like it's knocking against the inside of my chest. It feels different than the panic attack. I don't feel buzzy, just warm and... happy.

It was my first kiss. Even though I screwed it up, and probably ruined any chance I had with Magnus, it was still amazing. I can still imagine the feel of his lips on mine, soft and gentle. I could still smell him. It had felt perfect. For a second, I'd just felt overwhelmed with this warmth in my chest, and I'd forgotten being scared or anxious. But a second later, I'd started thinking of what I had to do after this. I got worried I was doing it wrong. I got worried that he was going to stop and laugh in my face, and call me a freak or a faggot. And then I just panicked and it spiralled into that mess in the stairwell.

But, as I lie here in bed, thinking about our kiss, something dawns on me.

I've never felt this way about anyone before. I don't exactly know what it means, or if I'm right about this. I've heard descriptions of it from Isabelle, and Jace, and from books and TV.

I think I'm in love.

I stare up at my ceiling and listen to the sound of my heart thumping against the inside of my ribs.

I meet with Jace and Clary after work. We drive over to a used furniture store and take a look around. I walk through the crowded isles beside Jace, ducking under wanton chair legs and stepping over coffee tables.

"What are we looking for?" I ask, voice hushed. It's hard to talk in public, but I'm with Jace. He's my best friend. I keep looking around, hoping no one's on the other side of one of the furniture stacks who can hear.

"We need a coffee pot, a night stand, a bunch of cutlery and dishes, and a lamp," Jace counts off the items on his long, perfect fingers.

I used to think I had a crush on him, but when he met Clary that dream kind of slipped away. Besides, it wouldn't have worked. Sure, he was one of the few guys I could talk to, but he was practically my brother and my best friend. It would have screwed up the relationship, and he wasn't anywhere close to gay. He was just a convenient crush.

Sometimes, I was jealous of Clary. Maybe it was because when she was around, his attention wasn't all on me. When she was new to our circle, I couldn't talk with her around and it had been frustrating. Usually now, it was just the attention thing. It was selfish and stupid, because Jace was so happy with her around. I didn't make anyone happy the way she made Jace happy. They just looked at each other and smiled. I didn't have that with anyone.

Clary is off on the other side of the store, picking out bowls and plates. She's got more of an artsy eye.

"What about this?" I mumble, stopping in front of a small table. It could work as a night stand.

Jace takes a look at it, and shakes his head. "No, it's not sturdy enough."

I wonder what he's going to be putting on his nightstand that requires it to be sturdy, but stop myself because that's gross.

He looks at me before we move on, "You okay?"

I shrug.

"You look like you didn't sleep," he says. He knows me too well.

I shrug again. I try to move past him and drop the subject. But he just falls into step beside me, agilely moving through the clutter to keep pace with me.

"Did something happen? You really look terrible," he says.

"Thanks," I grumble. I see another nightstand-looking table, "What about that one?"

"No, because I'm not done talking to you," he says smoothly, leaning against the table I pointed out. "What happened?"

I frown at him. I don't want to talk about the panic attack. I don't want to talk about how I haven't been sleeping since the stupid kiss. I don't want to tell him about my new thing for my roommate. I haven't talked to Magnus since the other night. I don't know how we've managed to avoid each other for so long.

I keep walking down the aisle toward the next table.

"You can't just avoid things that make you uncomfortable, Alec," Jace sighs, chasing after me.

But I can avoid things that make me uncomfortable, I've been doing it since forever.

"What happened?" he tries one more time, close on my heels, and I'm close to telling him. As much as I don't want to, it would be a bit of a relief. And he is my best friend.

I stop and turn to him. He's got his arms crossed over his chest and he lowers his head toward me—something he's gotten used to, I guess, so that I can talk quietly and he can hear me.

I open my mouth, still caught between telling him everything, or telling him to drop it. It would be easy just to say it. I like Magnus. But I freaked him out and now he won't talk to me. That's all I have to say.

I wet my lips and try again.

"I found the coffee pot!" Clary comes around the corner with a box in her arms, full of dishes and a coffee maker. Jace and I straighten up. She raises an eyebrow, "Am I interrupting...?"

Jace glances at me and I shrug. My face is burning.

"It's fine," Jace says, frowning. There's something in his tone that says this isn't over, but he knows I probably don't want to talk about it in front of his girlfriend. I wonder if he knows what I was going to say.

"You sure?" she says, looking between us.

I wish she'd shown up a little later. I don't know if I would have been able to say what I wanted to say, or if I even really wanted to say it. But now I know I can't say it.

Jace keeps an eye on me, then nods, "It's fine. What did you find?"

They showed each other what they'd found, and she joined us for the search for the nightstand and a lamp. I trail behind them, feeling stupid and wishing I was one of them instead of me.

When we're finished, before we part ways, Jace stops me to say, "We should hang out some time, just me and you."

I nod. "When?"

We make plans for Saturday after family dinner and say goodbye. I take the subway home. When I get home, Magnus isn't around, but I didn't expect anything else.

I eat dinner alone, feeling stupid and thinking about all the words I should have said but couldn't.