It was storming, that was something Magnus remembers vividly, the last night they spent together before Camille left. With less than a backwards glance, she was gone. Leaving with shards of Magnus's heart imbedded in the souls of her feet as she walked over them. Magnus had thought that she would be the one he could spend eternity with, the one that would be there when he met his soulmate and walked away. But she was the one who walked away.
Magnus could remember every minute of their time together. From their first night, sweat travelling down their bodies, breaths mingled, hearts beating erratically. Magnus couldn't remember feeling that level of intimacy with anyone, he didn't think he ever would again. Magnus had thought being with an immortal would stop it from hurting, would give him the option of never having to love a mortal and care enough about them to stay with them as they slowly died.
But that wouldn't happen, Camille had left with a laugh in his face. "Immortals shouldn't believe in true love. We have immortality to live, why be tied down to one person when we can spend every lifetime with someone new?" She had picked up her case and before he could respond she walked out of the London townhouse.
Magnus sat on the couch, a storm raging outside, one that reminded him of that night, of her in general. But he pushed his mind to a different memory, one that didn't bring heartbreak. The memory of his first night with her.
Magnus lay on his back in the large bed, naked but for the soft sheet covering his lower half. Camille sprawled across his chest, her fingers traced patterns over his heart and stomach. They were silent, but their deep breaths and the rustle of the sheets when their legs moved. Magnus ran his fingers through Camille's hair and stared at the ceiling.
His first night with Camille, he could remember many more nights like this. Sprawled upon luxurious sheets, relaxing between round after round of amazing sex. Magnus had had partners before, but Camille knew things that made him feel like a novice in the bedroom.
"Why do you glamour them?" Camille asked, breaking the silence in the room.
Magnus knew what she meant, his numbers. Camille tried to hide hers previously, but after the makeup washed away from sweat, she couldn't pretend that she may be his soulmate. Magnus may have been upset by this earlier in his life, but with almost two hundred years left to live, he stopped caring.
"Because, my dear, those numbers mean nothing to me. And abstract thought by fate won't determine my happiness. I am content to live this life without the threat of a soulmate hanging over my head."
Camille lifted her head to face Magnus. His head was turned to face the window, looking over London. Camille's finger froze in their movements and she reached up to tilt his face downwards. She leaned up and kissed him. Magnus knew in his heart that Camille would break it one day, but Magnus was happy to forget for a little while.
"You've seen mine, isn't it fair that I see yours?" She moved her fingers to trace where his numbers would lie over his heart.
Magnus removed her hand and brought it to her lips to kiss it. "You've seen every inch of me, Camille, a few numbers shouldn't mean more than what we've already shared." He shifted his legs under the blankets to rest his feet on the ground. "I must be off." Magnus moved about the room in the moonlight to gather his clothing.
Chairman Meow scratched at Magnus's arm, bringing him out of that memory. He pat stroked Chairman's back a few times, until he settled in his lap, purring while falling asleep. He'd need to move soon, Chairman would want his dinner, and come to think of it Magnus was getting hungry as well. 'Perk of being a Warlock,' Magnus thought and waved his hand.
Chairman lifted his head when he smelt his dinner, he stood, stretched and flipped his tail. Magnus waited for chairman to jump off his lap before conjuring up a couple bakpao, who says you can't have chocolate pastries for dinner. They were something his mother made, but now he just steals them from carts littering the road of Jakartan traffic.
Magnus watched as lightning flashed across the New York skyline and hit the spire of the Empire State Building. He could remember when construction began, he was living here at the time, dealing with the heartbreak of Camille and the joyousness of Tessa and Will.
This is what happens when Magnus is left alone for too long, when it's been years since he's seen any of his friends. Even Raphael had been silent as of late, Camille keeping him busy all night with Clan business.
Business for Magnus had been quiet. The Clave had slowly created a kind of peace with the Downworlders and have not needed his services. 'Maybe I should start taking Mundane clients again,' he thought, finishing his dinner. 'At least then I would have something to do besides wait for the Shadowworld to do something interesting. Maybe not another war, though.'
He looked to his drinks cart. It was a gift from Tessa in the early 30s. She'd forced Magnus to "donate" the one Camille had given him, almost half a century earlier. He wasn't attached to it, by any sense of the word, but it matched his "flapper" flare perfectly. Though Tessa's had a more elegant style and could hold more varieties of alcohol, it just didn't match his apartment. Which lead him to look around his apartment. He'd redecorated around the time Tessa had moved in, then again when she had left 5 years later, now he decided was a good time to try out a new style – one that matched the new millennium.
Since the Downworld had been so boring lately, Magnus decided that maybe he should start throwing his blowouts again. Before the war with Valentine, and the Mortal Cup going missing, Magnus had thrown a party every other night, and more often than not woke up with some stranger the next morning. The more he thought of it, the more it seemed like a good idea. He made sure Chairman Meow was safely in his arms and, with a flick of his wrist, his apartment shifted from his simple two bedroom loft into a large studio with four bedrooms with ensuites and an industrial kitchen. He nodded. Chairman Meow jumped from his arms and strutted off to explore the new apartment.
With the layout Magnus was ready for a party. Snapping his fingers he produced a quantity of invites. He queried if he should invite the vampires or the werewolves for a moment before selfishly remembering the last time he saw Raphael, he sent the invites off to the New York Clan and the Seelie Court. Maybe next time he'd invite the werewolves.