Author Note: I wanted to try writing something fluffy in comparison to my horror fic. This is going to be a pretty short story. Alec's a bit neurotic in this AU. Thanks for reading.

Characters belong to Cassandra Clare.

Chapter One – Boxes

It took a long time to work up the courage to go into the coffee shop. My hands are shaking and I get worried that the sound of the crinkling paper is going to disturb everyone. I try to steady my hand by focusing on it, but it just seems to make it worse.

I stand in the doorway for a while, stepping out of people's way as they go in and out. I think about just walking over to the bulletin board, but my feet stay glued to the floor. I think about going to the cashier and ordering a smoothie, but that thought just makes my hands shake harder.

I decide to post the damn thing. That's the most painless way to do this. I wish that Isabelle hadn't convinced me to do this. I think about just turning around walking away. But I can't do that. The online ad hasn't gotten very many views, let alone responses, so I have to look other places. I stare longingly at the bulletin board across the shop.

I take in a deep breath, and walk over to it. I keep my eyes on the floor until I'm at the board. No one gets in my way, thank god. There's a bunch of push pins sitting at the corner of the board and I grab two. I find a space between the flyers and stick up my ad.

I'm getting my own place soon. I have a pretty great chance at getting it, too. I just don't have all the money I need to keep the damn place. My friend, Jace, was supposed to move in with me, but he dropped out to move in with his girlfriend. I wasn't going to admit to him that I was mad, and a bit jealous. Not to mention stressed. I wish he had decided it all sooner.

I sigh and turn to leave. I hoped that a nice girl or someone would answer the ad soon and I could move in, before someone else snatches up the place.

I nearly bump into someone. I feel my throat go tight, and my heart races. This isn't going to go well.

I look up into two, very pretty, orange-yellow eyes.

He smiles at me. "Sorry, didn't mean to nearly knock you over."

I shrug, my lips turning to wibbling, useless things.

"What'd you post up?" he steps past me and goes over to the bulletin board. I watch him, my feet refusing to move. He's got spiky black hair, and I think I see spray glitter or something like it tousled in there. He's wearing nice clothes—a purple shirt that looks like it's made of nice material—and he's got a coffee in one of his hands. He's slender and handsomely pretty—one of those boys I'll never talk to.

I hold my breath as he reads my ad.

"Are you looking for a roommate?" he turns to me. "This is yours, right?"

I try to smile, but it doesn't work. My arms feel heavy at my sides. I shrug. Then nod. Awkwardly.

He smiles, hardly looking thrown off. He's probably just being polite.

"Great," he pulls one of the little tear-away strips from the bottom of the flyer with my number written on it. "I'll give you a call then."

I'm pinned to the spot where I stand with shock. That was all it took to get a roommate? One I didn't even want. He gives me that pretty smile and moves past me. He walks to the door, sipping his coffee. He tucks my number into his pocket. I don't move until he's out on the street, disappearing around the corner.

I let out the breath I'm holding and shuffle as fast as I can to the door.

Calm down, Alec. He can't be the only person who's looking for a roommate. You have other flyers to put up. More people will call you. Not-cute-boys will want to live with you and everything will be fine.

I've had three calls since I spent a weekend putting up ads. One from a guy that reminded me of a surfer—decidedly someone I wasn't going to get along with, too vapid and too... male—one from a woman twice my age, and one from the coffee shop guy. Apparently his name's Magnus. And apparently he's the only real candidate to be my roommate.

I had put off calling him too long. I had wanted to wait for more calls, ideally from women and from people my own age. But no one had called.

I hated to admit it, but Magnus was the only one that seemed like a good fit. He was charming and polite on the phone. He didn't seem to mind that I had only answered him in monosyllabic noises and short, clipped answers (that Isabelle had to coach out of me). He seemed nice. He was also damn attractive. That would be tough to get past, but what else could I do?

If only I wasn't so awkward.

I'm so awkward I can't talk to people. I literally clench up and I can't talk. I went to a counsellor for a while to deal with it, but I had a panic attack during my second session and Mom pulled me out. I still don't know if that was the best decision. Mom says I've improved, but I still don't think I have. There are still three kinds of people I can't talk to:

Dad,

cashiers,

and boys.

So this new roommate thing wasn't going to be a walk in the park. I have no idea how I was going to talk to him. But Mom and Dad wanted me to move out already, and I didn't want to lose my dream apartment.

I was stuck living with an attractive guy I was too awkward to talk to... Great.

Izzy came over to help me build my bed and carry the last of my boxes in. She helps me unload the rest of my boxes from the back of the car, and we lug them upstairs.

The place is gorgeous. Hard wood floors, a huge picture window overlooking the city, soft warm lighting. Golden yellow painted walls. An island counter sitting across from the kitchen, a bathroom with a great shower, and two spacious bedrooms. My dream apartment.

And it's covered in boxes.

"You're way too over prepared for this," she says, looking around at my new place from the centre of the main room. I shrug. I saved up a lot of money to make sure that I had a fully stocked kitchen, cleaning supplies, bathroom supplies, and all the furniture I thought I needed. I hadn't wanted to go into this unprepared. If Jace hadn't dropped out at the last minute, I would have saved up enough to pay rent myself.

"When's the guy moving in?" she asks, opening some boxes.

I shrug again. "He said sometime before six."

"How very specific of him," she shakes her head. We start unloading some stuff. "Do you want me to hang around to translate for you?"

"No," I grumble, and wonder if I'm going to regret it. But the last thing I want is for my sister to watch me flub over some hot guy. The teasing will never end after that.

"You gonna be okay?" she asks. She knows that I have trouble talking to other guys, and she basically knows why. Like I said, I don't want to put up with the teasing.

I nod. "I'll be fine. Worse comes to worse, I'll just hide in my room or something."

She bumps me with her hip, "You embarrassed?"

My sister knows me too well. She's someone I don't have trouble talking to.

"No," I huff. She snickers and carries a box of my books into my bedroom.

"We should set up your bed," she calls to me, "So then you and your roommate can jump right in!"

"Isabelle!" I shout, going red.

I hear a laugh behind me and turn on my heel. This guy's great at sneaking up on me.

Magnus stands in the doorway, his hair looking more natural and a lot less sparkly. He's carrying a box in his arms and he has a couple of bags slung over his shoulder. He's wearing more nice clothes. He looks great, to keep it short. And he's smiling at me, and I can't smile back because I'm blushing too much.

"Don't worry, I'm not going to jump your bones yet," he says, putting down his box on the nearest table. I get stuck on that "yet" he added. I hurriedly turn away and grab a box and haul it into my room.

Isabelle turns. "Why are you bringing the cultery in here?"

I blink at her and look at the box. I scowl, and she tries to stifle a giggle. I drag the box back into the main room and drop it on the island counter. Magnus grins over at me from where he's unpacking some pillows and throwing them on the couch I bought. I can't help but stare at him for a little bit, and then realize he's still looking back at me while I do it. I blush and go to find another box that actually belongs in my room.

Isabelle's still giggling.

"Shut up," I croak and it's barely a whisper. I don't want Magnus to hear from the other room.

She pats my back understandingly and goes to get more stuff.

I get to pushing my shelves up against the walls, and shoving the boxes of books over that way too. I find the instructions for building my bed and pull out all the pieces. Everyone has always complained about IKEA instructions, but I find them easy to follow. I get to building the parts I can put together myself.

"Need some help?"

I open my mouth to answer and stop mid syllable when I realize that it's not Isabelle standing in the doorway. Magnus wiggles his fingers at me.

"Cat got your tongue?"

I don't know what to do, so I shrug. He seems to take that as an invitation, and walks over to the bed and takes the instructions to look them over.

"How do you read these? I can never figure them out," he says, smiling and shaking his head. I shrug and finish putting one of the legs onto the frame. He starts with the next one.

"Is this your first time living away from home?" he asks.

I nod.

"You don't talk much, do you?" he says.

I shrug.

"Right. Do you want me to leave?"

I want desperately to open my mouth and tell him something comforting. All that comes out is a squeak and I falter. He nods and stands up, brushing off his hands.

"I'll, uh, leave you to it. I'll get started on my room, I suppose. See you, Alec."

He leaves.

And I want to shove my foot in my mouth, because, well, what would be the damn difference?