I haven't had sex in far too long. Because I can't remember the last one I had. Which is a shame. Alec is a really attractive young man. The encounter in Alec's bedroom left me anything but cold. It always sounds so easy when everyone says you should think of something disgusting at such moments. Alec's smell hangs in the air and the touch of his tongue tingled so nicely on my skin. I can still feel the sizzle and concentrate on breathing calmly. In and out, slow and deliberate. With a relieved sigh, I realise that it is working. The pressure eases and the roaring in my ears disappears too.

"Magnus", Alec calls my name loudly. Very loudly. I almost scare myself to death and press my hands to my chest. The steady beating changes to wild drumming within a second. All colour drains from my face as I turn to the door and see Jace leaning in the doorframe. His eyes are formed into small slits and his lips press hard together. He is a big muscular man and right now he scares me a little. His aura gives off a certain air of gloom and as he jerks away from the doorframe I feel cold. Very cold.

Jace comes to a halt very close to me and glares at me angrily. Right now I do care what the two of them were talking about after all. It doesn't seem to have been good for me. I wonder what bad crime I might have committed. But other than just ditching Alec in Vegas, I can't think of anything else.

"You hurt him, I'll break every bone in your body", he presses out and I swallow dryly. I'm not one for trouble. Or fights. Or trouble followed by a fight. Raphael always took care of that in my school days. Until he met Andrew.

I shake my head and see Jace nod. Then he reaches past me and pushes me out of the way at the same time.

"Give me a hand. The dresser is very important to Alec", Jace says and I let air back into my lungs. I hadn't even noticed I was holding my breath.

"Yes, of course. I'm sure we can find a good spot. It's a really nice piece of furniture", I reply, surprised at the firmness in my voice. Jace has thrown me off track big time.

"It's his best work. Everything he creates with his hands is unique. But this one in particular. You rarely find this much attention to detail." Surprised, I look to Jace and wonder at the softness in his voice. The love and respect for Alec is clear to hear. He wants to protect him at all costs.

Alec watches us warily as we take his darling out of the flat and load him into the van Alec borrowed from his uncle. The three of us manage to stow the chest of drawers without any scratches or bruises. The number of moving boxes is manageable. I had expected considerably more. But Alec only owns half the clothes that are in my wardrobe. A box of personal belongings and important papers. I still marvel that this is all that marks his life and him as a person.

Jace joins us and helps move Alec's belongings into my house. Together it's a small thing and the biggest problem is getting the dresser to its new place intact. Alec finally decides against the bedroom. The narrow steep stairs and the considerable weight of the magnificent piece of furniture make a horror scenario grow inside him. Therefore, the living room now has a new piece of furniture and I must honestly admit, it blends in extremely harmoniously with the surroundings.

Jace has already driven again. He didn't miss the opportunity to say goodbye to me with a warning look. Alec was standing behind me and I heard him chuckle softly. Annoyed, I turned to him and Alec dropped all barriers. He laughed at the top of his lungs and I rushed up the stairs to my office, offended. I really didn't have to do this to myself. Work has always been good at distracting me. So it is this time too. My editor is waiting for the latest review and to match my mood, so is the book. It's annoying. It's boring and the plot drags on. I already had a suspicion of the murderer after the first quarter and halfway through my suspicions were confirmed. My assessment is correspondingly negative, I feel a bit sorry for the author. The book is selling really well, I know the numbers from last week. But it doesn't grab me in any way.

My fingers fly nimbly over the keyboard. The day is drawing to a close and the light shines in dimly through the window. Shadows flit across the room and I turn on the old lamp on my desk. The small cone of light exudes a homely warmth, adding a touch of nostalgia to nights full of work. It evokes memories in me that lie long in the past and always make me feel a little melancholy. Sometimes the feeling supports me when I write. Then it covers me like a warm protective blanket, wraps me up and gives me enlightenment when I sit helplessly in front of my computer. But today I can't use this memory. I chase it away, banished to the back corner of my subconscious labelled 'not today'

"Beautiful", suddenly comes Alec's deep voice. As if of its own accord, my head moves in his direction and I can't suppress a brief stumble of my heart. Soft light falls through the hallway onto his body. He leans in the doorway with his arms crossed, his legs crossed. Slowly, his hand runs through jet-black hair and my fingertips begin to tingle again.