Drop of Magic (Malec)

Falling, Hard

Magnus POV

I step off the plane, trying desperately to make my hair spike up enough. It's fallen flat from napping on the plane ride home but can you blame me? 8 hours next to a screaming child is enough to push anyone into stuffing headphones in and passing out. I straighten out my black double breasted jacket and toss my carry-on over my shoulder as I head down the ramp. My palms are already sweaty, stomach coiled tight with nerves. I spent the whole plane ride freaking myself out with silly things, thoughts of Alec having changed his mind in the past two months, or thoughts of him seeing me again and realizing it doesn't matter anymore. I chew on my lip as I fight the urge to push past all the other passengers and find him. I can see a familiar mop of black hair standing at the edge of the crowd- I should've known he wouldn't have thrown himself right up near the front, he hates crowds and confrontation. I can't fight the smile that forms on my lips- a true, genuine smile, one that only he is capable of giving me- as I push my way through towards him. I can tell when he spots me as he goes rigid and I'm instantly filled with fear of the unknown. We've only been together 6 months, and only with each other personally for 4 of those, I wonder how much could have changed in two months, how much time he had to think over all of our spontaneity and brash decisions. I wonder if Maryse got to him while I was gone. Biting my lip hard enough to bruise, I finally break through the final mass of people and find him standing before me. It's as if the past two months melt away, leaving only then and now. I soak him in, standing several feet away. Neither of us makes to move and I drown out everything around me, the noises and laughter of people meeting again, the tears and loud voices. They all become irrelevant as I roam my eyes over him, starting at the top.

His hair is slightly longer and a bit messier but it's clear he attempted to style it. The thought of him forgetting to go to a hairdresser in the past two months brings a small smirk to my lips. His cheeks are flushed with what I assume is nerves and his eyes are wide, pupils dilating as we drink in each other. His jaw line is sharp, as it's always been and I let my eyes trail down to the bit of collarbone peeking out from beneath his crisp white dress shirt. His blazer is fit to him, perfectly outlining his broad shoulders and subtly muscular arms, folded at the elbows to reveal his firm forearms, one folded tightly behind his back. His black jeans are definitely more expensive than anything he would have worn when we first met- heavens, this whole outfit is- and I revel in the way they form to him, cinched cuffs tucked neatly in his Santoni brown, leather boots. In that moment, I realize 2 months was too long and that I never, ever want to be faced with another situation that takes me away from him. I want him for now, and forever.

Alec POV

Magnus stands before me, his carry-on thrown carefully over his shoulder. His jacket is double breasted and fits him perfectly and I can barely decipher the silky black dress shirt beneath. His deep maroon skinny jeans are tucked into some black boots with a bit of a heel. His hair is spiked up elegantly, some pieces falling slightly out of place, but it just reminds me that he's real, that he's human, tangible, right here in front of me, no longer a voice over the phone that I just can't reach. There's only a touch of glitter in it and his eyeliner is applied lighter than usual, barely smudged out of place by the long plane ride. I can only imagine how exhausted he must be. But it's his eyes that bring me back to life. The rich amber of them is subdued into a warmed glance, like melting honey or a full whiskey glass filtering sunlight. They are sleepy but so alive, gazing at me as if he were trying to memorize every single part of me. I flush a bit at the gesture and wait for my mind to make a move. Everything is still, nothing can be heard around me save for his soft breaths and my own ragged ones. With no warning, he drops his bag on the ground and comes towards me, wrapping his arms around my torso, his hands grabbing fistfuls of my blazer. Had it been mere hours since I'd seen him instead of months, I would scold him for wrinkling the fabric I'd so carefully ironed out but none of that mattered right now. I choke back a sob and bury my face into his hair, ignoring the glitter that flutters out and inevitably into my own hair. I breathe in his familiar scent, the smell of fresh rain and cologne, the smell of his expensive shampoo and the mints he always popped when he was nervous. I wind my arms fiercely around him, tucking him closer to my chest, the flowers held tightly in my right hand still.