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Description
"Alec dropped his witchlight. The light winked out, and he fell to his knees, scrabbling on the ground among the trash and the dirt, grit under his fingernails. At last something lit up before his eyes, and he rose to see Magnus standing before him, the witchlight in his hand. It shone and flickered with a strangely-colored light.

“It shouldn’t illuminate like that,” Alec said, automatically. “For anyone but a Shadowhunter.”

Magnus held it out. The heart of the witchlight was glowing a dark red, like the coal of a fire.

“Is it because of your father?” Alec asked.

Magnus didn’t reply, only tipped the runestone into Alec’s palm. As their hands touched, his face changed. “You’re freezing cold.”

“I am?”

“Alexander . . .” Magnus pulled him to his feet, and the witchlight flickered between them, its color changing rapidly. Alec had never seen a witchlight runestone do that before. He put his head against Magnus’ shoulder and let Magnus hold him. Magnus’ heart didn’t beat like human hearts did: it was slower, but steady. Sometimes Alec thought it was the steadiest thing in his life.

“Kiss me,” Alec said, tipping his head up; Magnus eyes were sad and shadowed, and unreadable.

Magnus put his hand to the side of Alec’s face and gently, almost absently, ran his thumb along Alec’s cheekbone. When he bent to kiss him he smelled like sandalwood. Alec clutched the sleeve of Magnus’ jacket, and the witchlight, held between their bodies, flared up in colors of rose and blue and green as their lips touched." - Cassandra Claire, City Of Lost Souls

Text in Picture Also from City Of Lost Souls.

Description
"Alec dropped his witchlight. The light winked out, and he fell to his knees, scrabbling on the ground among the trash and the dirt, grit under his fingernails. At last something lit up before his eyes, and he rose to see Magnus standing before him, the witchlight in his hand. It shone and flickered with a strangely-colored light.

“It shouldn’t illuminate like that,” Alec said, automatically. “For anyone but a Shadowhunter.”

Magnus held it out. The heart of the witchlight was glowing a dark red, like the coal of a fire.

“Is it because of your father?” Alec asked.

Magnus didn’t reply, only tipped the runestone into Alec’s palm. As their hands touched, his face changed. “You’re freezing cold.”

“I am?”

“Alexander . . .” Magnus pulled him to his feet, and the witchlight flickered between them, its color changing rapidly. Alec had never seen a witchlight runestone do that before. He put his head against Magnus’ shoulder and let Magnus hold him. Magnus’ heart didn’t beat like human hearts did: it was slower, but steady. Sometimes Alec thought it was the steadiest thing in his life.

“Kiss me,” Alec said, tipping his head up; Magnus eyes were sad and shadowed, and unreadable.

Magnus put his hand to the side of Alec’s face and gently, almost absently, ran his thumb along Alec’s cheekbone. When he bent to kiss him he smelled like sandalwood. Alec clutched the sleeve of Magnus’ jacket, and the witchlight, held between their bodies, flared up in colors of rose and blue and green as their lips touched." - Cassandra Claire, City Of Lost Souls

Text in Picture Also from City Of Lost Souls.