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Alec keeps his eyes on the empty space where glowing blue wards of protection were hovering in the air just a second ago, but he still notices Magnus, the way he... fidgets. Alec can't imagine that's what's happening; what could possibly make someone like Magnus Bane display any kind of nervous tics?
Magnus takes a few steps closer, and Alec can't pretend he can't see him anymore.
"A Forsaken wound often needs a little warlock TLC," Magnus says, gesturing lightly. "May I? Free of charge," he hastily adds, and Alec hates how endearing he finds it. He meets his eye.
"It's okay," he blurts, sounding harsh even to his own ears, pulling away as Magnus reaches out. "I'm fine."
He tugs the bandage into place, looks away, deliberately trying to send every kind of abrasive, uninviting signal he can in Magnus's direction. Because he can't bring himself to admit how much he appreciates Magnus's offer, and he definitely can't admit just how badly he'd like to accept it.
"If anything were to happen to you―" Magnus cuts himself off, just as Alec looks back at him. His eyes are earnest, but his lips are pressed together as though trying to make sure he doesn't say anything else. Alec swallows, taken off-guard by the expression.
More importantly, by the way he responds to it.
"Okay," he says, before he has a chance to stop himself. "Fine."
He realizes that he sounds reserved, almost suspicious, but Magnus's face lights up just the slightest bit, and it makes the reply worth it.
"It'll just be a minute," Magnus assures him, giving him a small smile. Alec really should be concerned about just how that smile makes his shoulders relax, but he just opts for glancing at the floor instead. If Magnus notices, he says nothing, and Alec is grateful.
Magnus gestures vaguely down the hall, and Alec leads the way, the two of them ending up in a small, more secluded area near the training room. They sit down, and Magnus's hands hover over Alec's bandaged wound for a split second, before his eyes hesitantly find Alec's. It takes Alec a moment to realize he's asking for permission, and he nods, Magnus proceeding to remove the bandage, so gently.
They don't talk as Magnus gets to work, snapping his fingers and conjuring up that blue, ethereal glow, and Alec watches for a little while as it slowly envelops his wound. Magnus places his other hand just behind Alec's shoulder, carefully angling his arm for better access, and Alec makes a point of breathing slowly, steadily. He can't remember Magnus being this close to him before, not for this long, not like this―he would remember if he had.
He recalls holding Magnus's hand tightly in his own that one time, letting him pull any strength he needed from him as Alec held him upright, Magnus pouring all his energy into helping Luke, saving him. It was... selfless, in a way Alec hadn't really seen before. He never expected that from someone like Magnus, someone who seemed so calloused and flippant based on what Alec heard of him beforehand, and he definitely didn't expect it from a High Warlock. Or any warlock. Or any Downworlder, really.
Alec looks away, averts his eyes as he feels the smallest wave of shame. He's ashamed to ever have thought anything less of any Downworlder, but especially of Magnus. He can't imagine thinking any less of him than he does right now, which is more highly than he ever thought possible.
Alec slowly looks back up, watches Magnus's hands as they work, one still just barely pressed against Alec's bare skin, the other moving its bejeweled fingers with gentle, hypnotic precision, manipulating the magic so elegantly. It's quite a thing to watch.
I'm getting married. The thought is unwelcome, but Alec knows what brought it on. He looks away again, clenches his jaw. I'm getting married. He keeps thinking it, forces himself to, both as a reminder and a deterrent, but also with a sudden desire to say it out loud. I'm getting married.
He needs Magnus to know, he realizes, needs to tell him. He couldn't bear it if Magnus heard it from someone else, and while he knows he has no responsibility to share this news, has no responsibility or obligation to let Magnus down easy or even think about his feelings at all, he can't help it. He doesn't want Magnus to be in pain, but he also somehow wants him to know that Alec's choice is one governed by logic, not feelings. Because it doesn't matter what he feels. It doesn't matter that his heart stutters whenever Magnus enters the room or even stands remotely near him, or that he gets this weird catch in his throat whenever someone mentions his name. It doesn't matter, because Alec knows he can't have that, ever. It's best to just nip this in the bud, whatever this is.
I'm getting married. He parts his lips, urges himself to say it, but the words get caught behind his tongue, leaving a bitter taste in his mouth. I'm getting married, I can't do this.
But Magnus's touch is feather-light, barely there, the blue light of his magic oddly warm and soothing against Alec's skin, and it's horribly distracting. Alec dares to glance at the warlock's face; Magnus's eyes are on Alec's injury, brow so slightly furrowed, and Alec can't tell if it's with concern or focus, but it looks beautiful on him, either way. Everything looks beautiful on him.
I'm getting married. Alec swallows, inhales deeply, as quietly as he can. He doesn't want Magnus to know that he's having trouble breathing with him so close, his scent warm and intoxicating in the strangest way. He can't let him know, or this whole thing will be even more difficult. He grits his teeth, makes the decision, but just as he opens his mouth to speak, Magnus lets out a sigh.
"There," he says, sounding relieved. He pulls his hand away from Alec's arm, a soft look on his face, and Alec snaps his mouth shut. Magnus turns to look at him, brown, black-lined eyes fond in a way that should not make Alec's stomach flutter like this, and which should not break his resolve so easily. "It'll still need some time to heal, but that should remedy the worst of it."
He says it kindly, softly, removing his other hand from where it's still steadying Alec's arm with the lightest of grips. Alec doesn't like that, doesn't like how cold that spot suddenly feels without his touch. He clears his throat.
"Thank you," he says, his tone rougher than he expected―although, maybe that's a good thing, considering. But Magnus doesn't seem to care. Instead, he just smiles, and while Alec swears the smile looks somehow sad, it's there.
"Not at all," he says. He carefully puts the bandage back into place, after taking a split second to magically clean it up, and gets up from where he sits, moving in that fluid, deliberate way Alec has noticed in everything he does. He absently rubs his fingers together, another habit of his Alec has noticed, and lets out a tired exhale, eyes still on Alec. "You know where to find me if you need me. Take care, Alexander."
The way he says the name makes Alec want to take a deep, deep breath, but he just nods, and Magnus gives him another smile, before turning away and leaving.
Alec doesn't move for another full minute, absently adjusting the bandage on his arm, deliberately looking in any direction but the one Magnus just took. His wound doesn't hurt nearly as much as it did, and he kind of wishes he had turned Magnus's offer down, after all.
Telling him the news is going to be much harder than he thought.