This idea has been nagging at me for a while, and I just decided to put it into writing yesterday. I'm not sure how this will be received by everybody...

Disclaimer: I don't own anything from the Mortal Instruments. The lovely Cassandra Clare does.

I Think He's the One...

The café was like a safe haven for me. More often than not, one could find me sitting at my usual spot outside, the corner table on the patio, sipping my favourite smoothie, strawberry banana chocolate, with my back against the brown wicker chair. The workers knew better than to bother me; after all, I wasn't really a bother to them either. I would always be reading one of my favourite books. Rarely would I look up from the story because I was always entirely immersed in it.

Today was no different, of course, except that I was with my eighteen-year-old-and-wouldn't-let-me-forget-it brother Mike instead of alone (he wanted a break from our hyperactive mother, and I was shocked that he decided to stay with his little sister). He wasn't pestering me like he usually did, the reason being that he was eyeing a cute blond waitress in a black mini-skirt with that perverted look on his face that all stupid boys had. As long as he didn't bother me (which isn't very often), I'm fine with whatever he does.

I ignored my brother and returned my focus to my book. It was something that my cousin had given me last weekend for my sixteenth birthday: A sappy romance novel about a young princess my age meeting the boy of her dreams. It was just my type. I was always a sucker for fantasy love stories, probably because I was always jealous of the female lead. I didn't really believe in all of that "love at first sight" stuff that I read about, even if it did seem a little bit possible, but I was constantly hoping that I would experience it.

The next couple of paragraphs were read wistfully:

Emma was having a terrible time at her mother's garden party. There were so many people there that she didn't know, all present to celebrate her mother's 50th birthday. And it hardly seemed as if they were paying any attention to her mother at all. Everybody wanted to talk to Emma. They wanted to be with the heir of the throne to the kingdom. Emma couldn't count how many times she had shaken hands or had said, "Yes, I'm doing quite fine, and yourself?" She was sick of being the daughter of the king.

What was even worse was the fact that her parents had arranged for her to marry the son of the neighbouring kingdom. What was it that her father had said? "It will form an alliance so strong that our enemies wouldn't even think of attacking, my daughter." Emma hated being used as an object for strategy, for that's what it was all about. She hadn't even met the young prince that she was to marry. So how was she supposed to expect to live a happy married life? She feared that she would never find true love.

And then she saw him. Emma saw the boy who was supposed to be the son of the Chief-of-Arms. He was lounging on one of the benches close to the pond where her mother was.

He didn't seem like other boys. He seemed to be anything but humble, and he also seemed shy, detached from the group of people around him, as if he were hiding a terrible secret and was afraid to have the world know about it. But despite his obvious emotions, she also noticed how…gorgeous he looked. Whoever dressed him knew what they were doing: His light blue shirt hugged his lean body, and his dark pants fitted his legs wonderfully. And his deep black hair, cut in an enticingly obscure fashion, crowned his head perfectly, the slight breeze in the air whipping it around in the slightest of ways. Even from a distance, she saw his sharp, angular cheekbones, his pale white skin, and were those blue eyes?

I blinked my eyes twice. Wait, did I just read that last paragraph about the boy that Emma had seen? Yes, I did. But then why was there somebody exactly like him sitting on the bus bench next to the street across from the café?

For exactly like him he was. He was everything from the humbleness, the shyness, the secret-keeping, the deep black hair whipped around by the breeze, the cheekbones, the pale white skin, and yes, perhaps those were blue eyes.

I couldn't believe my eyes. The boy on the bench was indeed gorgeous, beautiful, exquisite…

It was weird how I've never really looked at a guy the way that I was looking at this boy right now. Perhaps this is what true love is? That feeling when you see somebody and you know that they are the one for you. Because that was how I was feeling right now.

The boy on the bench was looking around him nervously, almost impatiently, like he was waiting for something. Or someone – no, he can't be taken. He checked his wrist, where I could see the glint of a watch, and tapped his knee with his fingers rhythmically. I cocked my head inquisitively. The bus had already stopped in front of him, so why wasn't he boarding? What was he doing?

Then he rose from the bench. Almost right away, I stood up abruptly with a loud screech of my chair.

"Geez, what's your problem?"

My eyes not leaving the boy's dark form, I replied monotonously, "Shut up, Mike."

The boy looked to the sky as if wondering what was wrong, then shook his head as if to bring him back to reality. Then he went and boarded the bus.

"No!" I cried aloud. I wasn't about to let the one person that I had fallen for in my life escape so easily. Dropping the book, I leapt over the low patio fencing onto the sidewalk, Mike shouting my name, telling me to come back. I paid no attention to him. Instead, I read the LCD display at the top of the bus. Great. He was headed to Brooklyn, which was quite far from here. I could never make it there on foot.

Yes, I intended to follow him.

I am such a stalker.

I dashed across the dead street – which wasn't unusual for this time of day; after all, it wasn't even rush hour – to the bus stop. I boarded the bus just before the doors closed, breathing heavily. I threw some coins in the payment box and searched the seats for the boy. There he was, in all of his gorgeousness, third seat from the back, gazing solemnly out the window. I knew that that was a total golden opportunity, so I took it.

As the bus began to move forward, I made my way to the third last row and slid into the empty space beside the boy, all the while holding my breath. He didn't seem to notice my presence. I had to make my move:

"Hey," I said with as much confidence as I could manage.

The boy turned he head in my direction, and our eyes met. His were indeed blue, a sharp, piercing blue not unlike that of an ocean on a clear, sunny day, and they stood out from his pale skin. They bore into me severely, and I had a strange impulse to look away, but I was almost transfixed by them. He was regarding me in a menacing fashion. "Hello," was all he said, not to mention that he had said it so low that I had just about mistaken it for a growl.

I smiled weakly and stuck out a hand. "My name's Abby. And you are…?"

He stared at me gravely, not shaking hands with me. "What business is it of yours to know my name?" he said in a low voice.

I blushed deeply and placed my hands on my lap. "Well," I began, embarrassed, "I was hoping that we could become, uh…friends."

"My name's Alec. And I already have friends, thank you very much." Then he turned away abruptly and stared out the window.

Ouch. Rude, much.

So we sat in an awkward silence for the rest of the ride until the bus slowed down to a stop. "Move," Alec snapped at me. "This is where I get off."

I just gaped at him and his rudeness. "Not if you don't ask more politely!" I retorted.

He groaned aloud and shoved me out of the seat. Luckily, I caught myself on the parallel seat to save myself from hitting the floor. Alec pushed past me roughly.

He was cold. Icy cold. A part of me wanted to ignore him, but I couldn't. If I could just get him to talk to me, maybe I could trigger some loving part of him and he'll straighten up. After all, looks like those that he possessed could not be ignored.

Shaking my head, I got back to my feet and raced after him. The guy was pretty fast. By the time I had gotten off the bus, he was already halfway down the sidewalk. I ran after him, stopping only for a second to take in my surroundings.

Where was I? This was a part of Brooklyn that I had never set foot in before. I stood next to a poorly-kept park, and the streets were lined with red brick warehouses and factories. What was my newly-found love doing in such an industrial part of town? I couldn't imagine anyone living here, so this certainly couldn't be the place where he dwelled. And he couldn't be meeting anyone, either.

I was in a hot pursuit of the boy, but Alec was bolting down the sidewalk so fast that I wondered if he was even human. Rows upon rows of dirty red buildings whipped past me as I hurried to follow him. I managed to catch up to him just as he slowed down to a stop in front of one of the buildings. There was a row of buttons, or apartment buzzers, perhaps, along the side of a metal door. "Alec!" I called at the time that he pressed one of the buzzers. Hmm, so he was meeting somebody – maybe one of these friends that he had told me about on the bus.

He went all rigid then and whirled on me. He grabbed me roughly by the shoulders. "What the hell are you doing here?" he asked me.

Despite his hostile acknowledgement of my presence, I smiled just to look into his beautiful blue eyes again. "I…I…I wanted to know if…you know, if…if you wanted t-to h-hang out somet-t-ime," I stuttered.

Alec's eyes blazed with fury, and he threw me against the side of the small entranceway to the building. "No!" he barked in my face. "I do NOT want to 'hang out', and NO I do NOT want to be your friend, got it? Now leave me alone!"

I put on a look of clear determination and stuck my lower lip out. I was not gonna let the first guy that I had fallen for get rid of me so easily. "Listen, Alec," I said sharply. "I didn't stop reading a very good book, abandon my brother and my strawberry banana chocolate smoothie, or follow you to this filthy place for nothing. The truth is, I really, really, lik—"

But I was cut off as the door swung open swiftly.

I exhaled deeply upon seeing the tall, slender form of the High Warlock of Brooklyn standing in the doorway, releasing my grip on the girl named Abby's shoulders. "Geez, Magnus," I said. "I was waiting at that bus stop you told for at least a couple of hours. How long does it take you to get ready?"

"Hardly any time at all, darling. You're just incredibly impatient," he said. Then he turned his head to see the surprised face of Abby. "And who's this little girlie?" he asked.

She didn't look like she was about to say anything, so I said in exasperation, "Her name's—"

"Abby." She offered her hand to Magnus and smiled awkwardly. "My name's Abby."

Magnus, like I had on the bus, ignored the hand and asked, "What are you doing on the doorstep of the magnificent moi?"

Instead of replying she pulled her hand back shyly. At least Magnus was able to make her quit talking. "She was stalk—er, I mean, following me," I replied.

"Oh, really?" He squinted his eyes and looked at Abby as if she was a piece of rotting meat. "Why were you following my boyfriend?" he inquired, crossing his arms.

Abby's eyes widened in surprise. "B-b-b-boyfriend?" she asked, flabbergasted.

Magnus's face lit up the way it always did when he was fooling around with someone. "Yes," he said slowly. Then he moved to stand right in front of me and wrapped his arms around me. He ran his long fingers through my hair. "Isn't that right, Alexander?" he said, pinching me in a certain place that made me jump.

I looked at Abby, who was gawking at us in a surprised manner. I wanted to rub it in her annoying little face that she couldn't ever be with me. "Sorry, kiddo," I smirked.

She was obviously shocked. "But…b-b-but…" she stammered.

Magnus laughed aloud. "Listen, I know that young Alec here is incredibly attractive and all, and I'd bet that if he were—" he winced "—straight, he might fall for a cute girl like yourself. However, he's not. And he loves me. Now get your ass back to where you belong before I kick it into the next century."

I almost felt bad for Abby as she stood there, her mouth forming words but no sound coming out, almost.

Magnus, though, did not, so he said in his most ominous voice: "He's taken."

Then he kissed me fiercely. I could tell that he was making a grand show of moving his lips around mine expertly, and no doubt, he was definitely making sure that she saw our tongues meshing together. I heard Abby gasp beside us.

As we broke apart, Magnus said, "Well, are you just going to stand there, or leave?"

Abby did neither. I watched as she stared at me bewildered and then fell backwards, blue sparks dancing around her body.

Magnus peeked over at her face and tsk-tsk-tsk­-ed. "That is really going to leave a mark," he said.

I shook my head, smiling. "Only you would make an innocent mundane faint like that. You know, you can be so rude sometimes."

He tapped my nose lightly. "And you can be so damn attractive all the time, Alexander. Besides, she would've fainted anyway. Did you even see the way she was looking at us?"

I rolled my eyes. "So, are we just gonna leave her there like this?"

"Of course." Magnus kicked her none too gently. "Once she wakes up, she'll forget all about you, and that she ever came here." He grabbed my hand and pulled me inside, shutting the door with his free hand. "You can thank me later," he said, leading me up the stairs and into his apartment.

He whisked me over to his bedroom and pushed me onto his bed. Then he climbed on top of me and kissed me. "I have other plans for you right now," he said seductively, and began to unbutton my shirt.

In case you didn't figure it out, the last part is from Alec's POV.

I hope you enjoyed this, and I'll try to update The Power of Sparkles asap.

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