Magnus hummed, shifting closer to Alec and blinking his eyes open. They glowed in the soft light spilling through the curtains from the city, catching against the unnatural color and making him appear even more supernatural than normal. He still held a sluggish quality about him, clearly not very awake.
"What are you doing up?" He was careful not to break the silence, his voice low and quiet. "I figured you'd be passed out until morning, at least." He offered Alec a tired smile, unsure if the teen would even be able to see it. The low light painted the planes of Alec's face in spectacular contrast. Despite any reservations he might have, he couldn't help but notice how beautiful the shadowhunter was - all pale skin and hard lines, his dark hair a magnificent counterpoint towards an otherwise fair countenance. In the yellow light of late night Manhattan, he seemed almost otherworldly. Magnus wondered absently if there were any fae blood in the Lightwood genes. It would certainly explain his inexplicable attraction.
He let his eyes drift close, clinging on to those last few moments of sleep. For the first time in quite some time, he had been free of his pressing nightmares - cities of blood, towers of alabaster bone. He was almost reluctant to let go of dreamless bliss. His fingers traipsed a pattern against the smooth skin of Alec's chest, aimless and slow. He could get used to this, he thought, if he let himself imagine a future for them. Perhaps it was silly, to allow himself to get so far ahead. It would be nice, though, while it lasted.