✑ writers corner

It was a warm summer day. They were both lying on the bed watching the series. Raphael's room was permeated with the pleasant scent of incense. Raphael wrapped his partner around the waist and rested his head on his shoulder. Simon's expression was nervous, as if he was worried about something. Raphael, without looking up, muttered:

"You think too much, mi amor" the boy jumped up and quickly looked to the side.

"It's.. it's nothing," he muttered.

"Are you sure? I feel something's bothering you," Simon stared at his pale face. Raphael did not like the sun, so he spent most of the summer at home and never sunbathed.

"There's something I'd like to tell you." Santiago paused the show and sat up.

"Mm, I'm listening" Lewis was unable to meet his eyes. It was evident that he was stressed and the topic must be difficult.

"We've been together for a long time. Really long. And there's something you don't know. And.. I think it's time for you to find out."

"How do you know I don't know?" Simon's frightened eyes went to the deck of tarot cards on Raphael's desk. "Just kidding. Go on," Lewis took a few deep breaths.

"I'm.. I'm a trans boy" he choked out. If there were such a thing as a thermometer of feelings, the mercury from Simon's thermometer would have long since blown out of the device.

There was silence. Raphael stared at him.

"I.. maybe I'll go now," he swallowed and stood up.

"Simon, wait" Santiago came behind him, grabbing the wrist. "Sit down, okay? You look like you're about to pass out" Lewis sat down. "Listen" Raphael crouched down in front of him. "At first I want to tell you that I am very proud of you. I can't imagine how much stress you had to eat to tell me this. You felt it before we met, right?"

"Something like two years earlier.."

"I'm glad you told me that. I want you to know that it has no effect on our relationship and you will always be my Simon. I will support you as much as I can. Okay?" he brushed a lock of his hair and sat down next to him. Lewis was silent for a long time until he embraced him and buried his face in the hollow of his neck.

"Thank you," he squeaked. Raphael smiled and hugged him tightly.

Raphael yawned, stretched, and leaned back in his chair. He straightened a textbook page, feeling the sand under his eyelids. He rubbed his eyes and finally decided to give up. He moved away from the desk, then stood up. He looked out the window, through which snow could be seen. Snow and frost and cold and Simon's still gone.

He went into the kitchen to make himself a cup of tea when he heard the door open. Simon was muttering to himself as he brushed snow off his boots. Santiago immediately grabbed the second cup and put in another tea bag.

The younger boy took off his jacket, ran a hand through his hair, and shuffled into the kitchen. He embraced the black-haired man around the waist, hiding his face in the hollow of his neck.

"Take those cold hands off me," the Mexican huffed, but he smiled deeply in his soul.

"Good morning to you, too," Simon croaked. Convulsions shook his body.

"Are you all right?" Simon loosened his icy hands and turned away. Raphael looked him straight in the eyes, which were glowing, tired looking and his nose red.

"Yes, why shouldn't it be?" Lewis replied, hiding in the old man's turtleneck.

"You look like you're sick."

"I'm definitely not sick, take it easy," he muttered. He later coughed while Raphael poured over his tea.

"I don't think so," Santiago raised one eyebrow.

"Raphaaa," he groaned. "I'm fine I'll drink this tea and go to study," he sneezed.

"You're not going anywhere," he put the cup in his hands. "To bed."

"Raphael Santiago, I'm not sick."

"But you can be sick, Simon Lewis. Go to bed."

"Make me" he smiled slyly and the Mexican took his mug, put it on the table with his, grabbed Simon's shoulders and put his forehead to his.

Time stopped and Simon stared at him with a startled expression, mouth open.

"Your forehead is hot. Go to bed," he pointed with his finger.

"H.. hey!"

"At least I know how to shut you up," he winked at him. Lewis shuffled his feet into the bed, the cup returned to his hands, but Raphael almost forcibly pushed the thermometer into his mouth.

"You're cruel," he choked out.

"No, I'm just worried about you," Raphael pouted his lips.

"Mhm" he grunted, and the black-haired man took out the device. Then he touched his index finger to Simon's nose.

The boy ran to the door of the house and knocked on it cheerfully. He waited a long moment, and finally a distraught, crying woman opened the door.

"Good morning! Can Simon play?" The woman shook her head.

"Simon is gone, Raphael. He's gone."

  ***

  Raphael leaned back in his chair in his office, staring at one of the photos on his desk. There were two little boys on it. Both smiling from ear to ear, they hugged each other with their arms. Santiago held back his tears and picked up the photo. He ran his fingertips over the glass.

I will find him! I promise I'll find him! You have my word, Aunt Elaine!

Later he picked up the file, which showed a picture of a little boy. Eighteen years have passed and he still hasn't found him. He put everything down on the desk and rested his head on his hands. However, he made a promise to himself that he would find him and continued his search.

 ***

 Por favor Dios. Ayudame a encontrar a Simon.

 ***

 Raphael Santiago was a three-year-old policeman and, thanks to his determination and faith, rose to the position of sergeant. Ever since he was a child, when he found out that his friend was missing, he persuaded himself and others around him that he would find him. At first, everyone saw it as a fantasy of a child who does not understand the whole situation. But day by day everything grew harder, Raphael pursued his goal with more and more determination. And he got it.

At that point, he was sitting in his office doing paperwork. Suddenly the door banged open and a black-haired man with blue eyes and a tattoo on his neck entered.

"Sergeant Santiago," he began. The Mexican looked up.

"Aspirant Lightwood. I'm listening."

"We have a summons. We received a message about a boy being held by a man. An elderly woman living next door reported the matter," the dark-eyed man moved away from the desk and stood up.

"No procrastinate. We're going," he said firmly as they both left his office. They were also joined by policewomen Lily Chen and sister of aspirant Alexander Lightwood - Isabelle Lightwood.

All four got into the police car. Raphael was tense with nerves. Despite having had many cases, he always felt stress, no matter how serious it was.

They were there fifteen minutes later. The woman who reported the matter came out against them.

"Ah, how good it is that the gentlemen and ladies are here," she wrung her hands. "The boy is here." She pointed a finger at the scratched door of the old house. "Please save the young man. I can't stand him screaming," she shook her head.

"We'll get it sorted" Raphael put his hand on the pistol and pulled it out. "Thank you for reporting. Please come back to yourself. God bless you," he said, waving his hand to make the rest of them follow him into the building.

Santiago took a few deep breaths, then pressed the door handle. They went inside. At first there was silence, then they could hear muffled screams and a male voice.

"I still don't understand you. When you were younger, you were more obedient."

"Stop!" he screamed, pointing his gun at the man. The bound boy looked at him with terrified, teary eyes. "Leave the boy alone!" He screamed again.

"Let him go!" Lily shouted.

"Get down, now!" The man took the pistol out of his pocket, placing it against the teenager's head.

"Try to shoot. The boy will die."

"Put your gun down!" He shouted out. Raphael's hands began to sweat, the matter was serious. "I said put your gun down!" And he fired. The bullet hit the attacker in the wrist, causing him to scream and the weapon flew out of his hand. The boy screamed at the moment of the shot.

Alec rushed to him with the handcuffs, quickly overpowering him along with Isabelle. Santiago walked over to the boy, untied him, and took the rag out of his mouth.

"It's okay, you're in good hands," he said, embracing him. "Get the job done. I'm going out with the boy," he said, and they both went outside, which turned out to be a real challenge.

The brunet's legs were numb, he could barely hold on to them. They refused to obey, he could not raise them. He was emaciated, bruised. Pale, unkempt and dirty. One arm was broken and it was clearly visible. As soon as they left, the boy vomited behind the stone steps.

He started to cry.

The policeman wrapped an arm around him, pulled out a walkie-talkie to contact the rest of the staff.

"It's okay. It's okay. You're safe. You're safe," he repeated. He informed the ambulance about the situation and then helped the boy sit on the stairs. “What's your name?” He brushed his hair back from his face and froze.

Oh, Dios.

"I think.. it's Simon.." he choked out. Tears filled Raphael's eyes. It was him. It was that Simon. His Simon.

"Simon!" He grabbed his shoulders and didn't hold back the salt drops. "Simon! It's me! Raphael! Raphael Santiago! Do you remember me?" He swallowed his tears.

"R.. Raphael?" Simon's thoughts were filled with dim, sluggish visions from his childhood. He and the boy running among the grain and grass. Flying kites and playing with toy cars. "Raphael.." he repeated, his voice breaking.

The Mexican hugged him carefully, stroking his back, and placed a kiss against his greasy hair. They were both in their arms, shaking from crying and choking on tears.

"I.. found you.." Santiago choked out. "I found you.. I kept my word.." He broke into tears. "Gracias, Dios! Gracias!" The rest of the policemen left the building, keeping the torturer almost to the ground.

Later, the sirens of an ambulance and other police cars sounded. Simon suddenly went limp.

"I want to.. sleep.." he stuttered.

"No, no, Simon. Don't fall asleep.." he whispered. "Hold on. You will be taken care of soon," he said. The medics approached with the stretcher and gently placed the boy on them. "I'm going with him," he turned to his friends. "I will inform his mother. And you make order with him, "he condemned the man with disgust, then spat and got into the ambulance.

He took the boy's dry, bony and wounded hand.

"You're safe," he said. "You're not in any danger anymore," he repeated. "Gracias, Dios. Gracias.."

"Raphael.." he croaked. "Don't leave me.." He tightened his fingers weakly on Santiago's fingers.

"I won't leave you," he said. "You have my word" at the hospital, Simon was immediately taken for examination and, unable to contain his crying, he sat down on a chair and dialed Elaine.

"Elaine. I found Simon."

 ***

 He cried with the woman. With a mother who regained her child after eighteen years. Your son. The Mexican hugged her.

"I kept... my word..." he sniffed.

"You kept it.. I don't know.. I don't know how to repay you," she sobbed. Raphael closed his eyes and she hid her face in the hollow of his neck.

 ***

 Raphael looked at him through the glass as he tried to take a step. Simon's mouth was tight and he was clinging to the wooden railings.

It was getting better with the boy. Physically. Mentally - worse. He was afraid to be alone, and he often had nightmares. He always had to have an accompanying person with him. Therefore, he was immediately provided with psychological care, but he was not tormented by it. They were serious, but slow.

"Raphael" began Simon when they were sitting in his room after the last rehabilitation. "Thank you," he said, and took his hand, lacing their fingers together. "Thank you very much. Although I don't know if I will be able to get back to myself because of all that has happened.."

"Of course you will come back to yourself," he replied, stroking his hair. "I will help you with this."

"I would like to thank this woman again. The one who reported the matter to you."

"Of course. I'll take you to her whenever you want."

 ***

 Half a year later

Raphael stretched as he heard a knock on the door.

"Come in," he said, putting the papers back in a drawer. He raised his eyebrows in surprise as Simon entered the office. "Simon, hey. What are you doing here?" He asked. The boy bit his lip as he jumped from foot to foot.

"When do you finish?"

"Tonight," Raphael rested his head in his hands.

“Would you like to go out for dinner?” Raphael smiled.

Simon Lewis was a great support to him. He tried to make Raphael feel as comfortable as possible, taking care of him as much as he could. Santiago felt incredible sadness that he would never be willing to hear his beloved. But who knows? Maybe after death? In Paradise?

He woke up with a mass of tiny kisses on his neck and hands tightly clasped around his chest. He smiled and turned to meet Simon's gaze. The man smiled back, ruffling the Mexican's black hair. He moved closer to place a small kiss on his partner's nose.

The dark-eyed man chuckled, hiding his face in the hollow of Lewis's neck.

I don't feel like getting up. He looked at Simon.

Why is that?

I just don't want to. Simon laughed, and he wished he could hear it.

I'll make us breakfast. And he got up from the bed. Raphael looked disappointed as he reached out to stop him, but Simon only grabbed his hand, placed a kiss on the knuckles, and stepped into the dressing room. Santiago wrapped the covers tighter around him, closed his eyes.

Brown-eyed walked into the room with a tray just as it finished praying. He put the book and the rosary in a drawer, and Lewis wrapped his arms around it, resting his head on Raphael's shoulder. The Mexican reached out to tilt his head back, smiling. Santiago only felt a vibration in his neck that Lewis was grunting, and he was not about to take his head off his shoulder.

Raphael accepted that he would have his breakfast left in a kneeling position, so he reached for a slice of brown bread. Simon tore off a piece of it and put it in his mouth. Santiago raised one eyebrow and looked at him, at which he just laughed.

Idiota.

Your darling idiota.

Yes. My darling idiota. Lewis stepped off him, and he breathed a sigh of relief as his legs began to throb with pain. They ate breakfast in a relaxed atmosphere (as always), and Simon continued to distract Raphael by brushing his hair back, showering him with kisses, or tapping his stomach, side, or cheek.

Later, they both headed to the bathroom, where Simon would not let Santiago get the hair gel, gesticulating that he was using too much of it and that his hair sometimes needed rest and that he was taking good care of it already. Then Lewis grabbed the comb himself and combed it.

The Mexican couldn't have asked for a better boyfriend.

Let's skip the fact that they both struggled with the dark-eyed man's electric toothbrush because it decided to stop working and wouldn't turn on at all. After ten minutes of never-ending work, it finally began to hum and they both endured the triumph.

The evenings were even better - when Raphael was lying in the bathtub under a blanket of foam, Lewis entered the bathroom and as if nothing had happened, joined him to which the brunet reacted with a huge, red blush. Later, they either just lay down until the water had cooled down and gave a sign that they needed to wash, or they splashed water like little children or covered their hair with foam.

After a successful fight in the bathroom, the Mexican landed on the couch with a book in his hands and the brown-eyed man maneuvered in the kitchen.

Just don't burn the pan. He gesticulated followed by the older man looking away.

That was a year ago, okay? Don't remind me of that. The dark-eyed chuckled and returned to his book. Reading, writing and learning were the most difficult moments in his life. Sign language has a different structure, grammar, and has never really heard the words, but has more or less understood them. But sometimes he had a problem anyway.

He learned his native language - Spanish and English. He communicated in both, but read in Spanish. Whenever Simon looked over his shoulder, he would turn around and gesticulate that he must be reading some erotics, which is why Spanish words are always on the paper.

Raphael read a lot. There wouldn't be a day when he didn't read at least one page. He flipped another page, beginning to smell the delicious smells from the kitchen. Maybe Simon didn't look like that, but he cooked very well.

He spent an hour reading until the mattress next to him was dented and Lewis put a mug of coffee under his nose.

Your favourite. Caramel. He gestured with one hand and rested his head on his shoulder.

Gracias.

 ***

 The whole merry crowd came at four o'clock. They took every seat in the living room and Simon breathed a sigh of relief that there was no space left. The black-haired man was sitting curled next to the brown-eyed man, holding him with his hands and hugging him.

"And do you remember our first trip out of town together?" Magnus said as the laughter at the earlier memory faded. Lewis immediately began to explain to the Mexican.

"Where were we then?" Jace looked over his glass.

"We had a choice of a campfire on the beach and a campsite in the woods, but you chose the forest, saying it was better," Magnus put a cookie in his mouth. "But we ended up in bug bites, wet and dirty, and finally ended up sleeping in Simon's van."

Did you have a van?

I had. But I sold it, now I have this better car.

"Or do you remember when we had to split up in high school? Because everyone was already going to a different college." Clary reminded her.

"And then most of us met at the same time anyway," Isabelle laughed over her cake.

"That's when Simon met Raphael," cut Alec, and Simon froze. "He couldn't stop talking about him" the brown-eyed smiled nervously.

Oh, was it really like that?

Not at all, he is lying.

But you just gesticulated that to me. Lewis pouted.

"Oh, come on," he said, not knowing that a flush crept across his face. The rest of the meeting was great. But before it was over, Simon not noticing, placed a hand on his knee, but before feeling the texture of the jeans he could feel Raphael's fluffy hair. He looked at him in surprise and found that the man had fallen asleep.

He smiled fondly and ran a hand over his cheek.

He rubbed his tired eyes as he checked the last drip. Now that the boy's face was clean, he could perfectly see his beauty. He had a long, pale face that looked incredibly calm. He remembered his thick, blood-stuck hair, which he had to shave off, unfortunately, to open his skull in any way. The operation was successful, but the hair cannot be as long as before. He was about to leave his bed when the door swung open and he heard a terrified scream.

"Oh my God, Simon!" He turned to the voice. A woman, strikingly similar to the patient, ran into the room.

"Excuse me? Who.. are you?" He tilted his head. The woman looked at Raphael.

"Oh.. oh, sorry. I'm his mother. Elaine Lewis." Elaine's eyes were bloodshot and she looked about to cry.

"Yes, of course.. first I invite you to my office" he showed to the next room. The brown haired nodded and followed him. He pointed to her place and sat down at the desk himself. He clasped his fingers together. "Well, let's start with your son's current condition.." he took a deep breath. "He came to us in a critical condition, we managed to immediately perform an operation on the skull, which was seriously damaged, the heart stopped, but..." here the woman clogged her mouth with her hand. "...it all ended well. It was just as lucky that the stomach wound was not deep, so there was no need to stitch it deeper."

"Oh God.." Elaine hid her face in her hands. Santiago felt regret and compassion. He bent down to cheer the woman by rubbing his hand over her shoulder.

"Could you please tell me what exactly.. happened?" He returned to the chair.

"So.. I was working then, my daughter was at university, so Simon stayed with his friend.. later I got the news that he had been sitting in the bathroom for too long and she found him like this.." tears rolled down her cheeks involuntarily. "Simon is depressed, he goes to therapy, he takes medication.. but he still cannot forget the future and my heart breaks when I see him like this" Raphael nodded in understanding and sighed.

"We will do our best to help Simon and I can assure you that your son will come out of here in better condition," he opened a drawer and took out a bundle of documents. "I would ask you to complete these documents and take them back to the receptionist."

 ***

 He pressed the handle and stepped inside. He kicked off his shoes, hung his jacket on a hanger, and walked deeper into the living room.

"I'm back," he declared tiredly.

"Finally" he heard the roommate's voice.

"I'm going to shower and go to sleep."

"Won't you eat anything?" Magnus entered the room.

"Do we have something else besides instant soups?"

"No.."

"We can't eat always junk food. I'll do shopping tomorrow."

"Sure, doctor" Raphael rolled his eyes and jumped into the bathroom. He pulled off his shirt, feeling his muscles slack with fatigue every second. He sat in the shower for an hour until Magnus started yelling out of the kitchen at him, to leave because he would have to pay a gigantic water bill.

He left the bathroom and shuffled into his bedroom. He threw himself on the bed and sank into the pleasant sheets. After a while he fell asleep.

The next morning, he managed to find a few eggs so he could make a hearty breakfast. He couldn't watch Magnus eating those instant soups from the paper cups nonstop. Bane was like a father to him. When his mother died, he took him under his roof and took care of him as necessary.

He didn't know how to pay his gratitude debt at all, so he just agreed to pay the bills. And polite cleaning.

"So," the Asian began. "You fell down yesterday, as always, so you didn't answer my basic question. "How was your day?"

"It was tough. I have to run to the operating room every day, and I need stand there for up to five hours until no one changes me. My back began to make itself felt."

 ***

Simon Lewis didn't wake up until after a hard week. He grunted, closing his eyes again, feeling the tubes being pulled from his mouth. He let out a soft groan, feeling a tremendous headache and an unpleasant nausea. Shortly thereafter, he vomited, but luckily the nurse standing next to him quickly gave him a metal bowl. 

She brushed his hair back from his forehead, her touch gentle and soothing.

"It's okay. It's okay," she said in a nice, low voice.

Simon collapsed onto the pillows, which were immediately adjusted. There was a clatter of boots and a muffled woman's voice, but Lewis couldn't hear what she was saying.

"Good morning" he heard after a while. He lifted his eyes to meet the short man's gaze. "How are we feeling?" Lewis swallowed down his throat as he felt the cold chill of the stethoscope against his skin.

"Bad," he grunted. His tongue was tangled, it felt as if there were remnants of cotton balls lying on it.

"And more specifically?" The doctor's tone was inviting to talk, it was just impossible not to listen to him, impossible not to answer.

"My head hurts."

"Yes.. that's obvious. You had a serious head injury. You are lucky because the surgery was successful. You are a strong boy" the stool shuffled.

"Do you remember what happened?"

"Yes," he replied hoarsely.

"Okay.. do you remember your name?"

"Simon. I have no amnesia" the doctor laughed, it was the most beautiful sound Simon had ever heard. "I'm sure."

"Of course. Lily!" He gave the nurse a few names of the medication and went back to the boy. "Lily will give you the right medication right away, and I will leave you to rest. Remember that you are under constant supervision.."

"I shouldn't be here," he interrupted. "I should be dead by now. Goddamn Clary must have been with me then." Raphael shuddered at the words.

"Your friend did it right, she called the ambulance. I doubt she or your mom wanted you dead," he hunched gently and laced his fingers. Simon sighed heavily and closed his eyes. He was tired, and he felt that the doctor did not understand him at all. "I'll come back to you tonight."

 ***

He disconnected the drips one by one. He sprang up from the bed, rushing to the door.

When he opened them, he felt nothing. It was fine until he ran out and heard his name. He ran as fast as he could until he felt weak and the world began to spin.

"Simon? Simon, what are you doing!?" There was a Spanish accent. He fell into Raphael's arms. "Why did you run away?" He took him by the arms and began to lead him into the hall. Lewis began to throw himself.

"I don't want to! Let go of me!" Raphael pressed him tightly against him, breathing hard. The man was gently rubbing Simon's back as he exhausted himself and began to cry. The Mexican was silent. He neither moved nor spoke. Simon was grateful to him.

Raphael slowly led him to the bed and sat him on it. Lewis slowly lay down on it, and the surgeon carefully connected the drips.

"Simon. I understand this is difficult for you, but please don't do that anymore" Santiago looked at him soflty. "If necessary, I can get a hospital psychologist," the boy said. "I had a friend who committed suicide once," his voice cracked. "I failed to help him even though I tried very hard. Please, Simon, don't do this to yourself. You're young, you still have a lot to do," Raphael's eyes filled with tears. "I stand here in front of you and I swear I will do my best to help you."

 ***

  When Santiago finished his shift, he changed into more casual clothes and entered Simon's room. The boy was lying on his side and didn't move.

"Have you met Elliot yet?"

"Yes.. he seems to be nice.." Simon croaked, his voice unemotional.

"That's good."

"Aren't you going home?"

"I have come to check if everything is alright. Do you feel better after the talk?"

"A little bit.." he admitted. "Sorry about earlier.. I caused even more trouble" Raphael put a hand on his shoulder.

"You were under emotions, Simon. You'll see, everything will be fine yet."

"I've been to different hospitals. I've never met such a nice doctor," he admitted. "They did their job and they left."

"I know that a stay in hospital can amount to stress and anxiety. I want everyone to feel at least slightly comfortable."

 ***

 "Thank you," he said, staring into Raphael's eyes. "Thank you for helping me. You can tell Mr. Elliot that I will definitely come see him."

"You're welcome, kid. I was doing my duty." Without a moment's thought, Simon hugged him, and Santiago ran his hand through his short hair.

"Hope to see you again."

"On removing the seams."

Super hearing

Raphael felt as if his head was about to explode. He heard all the voices in the corridor, in the rooms next door, and in the rooms across his room. He put the pillow over his head when he heard footsteps. The person was walking towards him.

"Rapha!" There was a beautiful and clear voice.

"Lewis," he grunted, hiding his face in the pillow.

"Oh, Rapha! We've been together for two months, you know my name!"

"Stop screeching," he growled. He felt the quilt slide off him and someone was lifting him away from the bed. The quirk of his boyfriend was the possibility of lengthening the hair by a good few meters, which turned into guitar strings.

"Let me go, Simon," he murmured, looking at Lewis, who looked like Rapunzel at that moment.

"It's time to practice, c'mon!"

"Stop screaming" he hissed.

"Sensitive hearing, huh?" he bared his teeth in a smile.

"Simon, I haven't slept all night, I'm tired" the brown-eyed didn't seem to listen to him, just left the room. Raphael was struck by harsh light. "Lewis, bring me back" looked down at the boy's head. They must have looked comical, and he felt like a balloon. Simon was already dressed in his school jumpsuit and Santiago was still in a white T-shirt and black shorts.

"You know well it's time to get up. Don't whine," he said seriously.

"I don't understand why I'm with you" Raphael lowered his head.

"Because you love me."

"Idiota."

 Super eyesight

"I can not see!"

"Turn left."

"What?" Raphael heard a crack.

"I told you to turn left" Simon started rubbing his head. The black-haired grabbed his hand and started to drag him.. They both got lost in the forest during the competition and the endless night had come and they were still circling among the trees. Santiago was sure that the rest of the participants had already started looking for them.

He felt the boy's hand begin to shake and sweat.

"Are you afraid?" He asked with a sly smirk.

"What? No! I want to be a super hero! I'm not afraid of.. dark!" he shouted. "Maybe a little.."

"Stop yelling, I'm leading us out of here."

"Do you know where we are at all?"

"No. But I'll try to get us out of here as soon as possible. Watch your feet."

"I can barely see the tip of my nose and I have to watch my feet?"

"Your eyesight should adjust right away."

"It won't be as sharp as yours, vampire."

"Don't call me that," he rolled his eyes.

"But that's what your quirk is called, isn't it?"

"I don't call you a guitar."

"Will you stop being so stiff?" 

"I'm not stiff. Watch out, a root" Lewis stumbled anyway. "Dios."

They didn't know how much time had passed. It got very cold, and Simon was shivering, his teeth chattering. It felt like they were walking forever.

"I'm tired," he groaned. Raphael put his arm around him. "Are you cold?"

"A little.." Raphael took off his katana and threw it over the boy's shoulders. "What about you? Won't you get cold?"

"I will endure," Santiago replied. After a few minutes, he saw a blue flame. "Bane's there. We are close."

"Raphael! Simon! You are here!" Magnus shouted. Santiago pulled a leaf out of his hair.

"We're alive," he grunted.

"W.. we got lost.." Simon began to explain.

"You will be confessing to Professor Garroway. I didn't know you had such a poor orientation in the field, Raph," Magnus smacked him friendlyly on the back of the head, forgetting the flame.

Raphael screamed.

 Acute smell

Raphael was breathing heavily, his legs felt like cotton wool. He walked between the pieces of rubble, unearthing it.

"Raphael!" He heard a female voice. Clary Fray was running towards him. "We lost Simon!" Santiago froze. He clenched his hands into fists, the skin of his fingerless gloves creaking.

"Where was the last time?" He asked as he followed her. She pointed to the spot next to Magnus Bane and three Lightwoods.

Raphael took a deep breath and coughed.

"Dios, how did he get perfumed today," he choked out. He shook himself quickly and began to stride forward. "This way" he waved his hand. They entered the collapsing building.

"Are you sure it's here?"

"Si. I can feel him" he pressed the door handle, which immediately fell off. He sighed in exasperation and aimed a kick at the door, which fell with a crash. He squeezed his eyes shut. In his present state, the sound was extremely sharp.

"Lewis," he entered the room where Simon had become tangled with the strings against the window frame.

"Oh, Raphael! How good it is that you are!" he exclaimed embarrassed.

"Don't move now" he pulled a golden dagger from his belt and carefully placed it against the strings. Then he jerked it sharply toward himself. Simon dropped to the ground. "Idiota."

 Acute touch

"You're impossible," replied Simon, shoving a chocolate into Raphael's mouth

"I can feel anything, Simon. I could feel every tiny blood vessel under your skin if I want to. But I don't feel like it." Lewis chuckled as he put his hands under Raphael's shirt and ran them over the light lines of his muscles.

They were currently in Simon's room. Santiago was lying on the bed with a black blindfold over his eyes, and Lewis was straddling him.

The brown-eyed had gentle, smooth fingers. The Mexican felt a pleasant shiver. He felt his soft lips against his neck. The younger boy began to give little kisses, and the dark-eyed melted his fingers into Simon's fluffy hair. When they were not in the form of long strings, they were paradise.

He inhaled the scent of Simon, the bitter scent of perfume filling his nostrils.

"Stop perfuming yourself with that filth."

"You bought them for me," he murmured, leaving a red mark on his skin.

"I thought they smelled nice."

"You have a great sense of smell and you didn't know they smell nice?"

"I didn't smell them"

"Who buys perfumes and doesn't smell them?" He kissed the collarbone of the raven haired man.

"Don't judge me," he grunted. Brunet grabbed the older t-shirt and pulled it off.

"I don't understand why you had it on."

"As befits a normal person, I wear clothes."

"Don't spoil the moment of our first time."

"Callate" brown-eyed put the chocolate in his mouth. Raphael grabbed the back of his head, pressing their lips together in a kiss. At the same time, he took the chocolate.

"It was gross."

"You are gross" he replied chewing on the chocolate. Simon rolled his eyes and kissed him again.

 Acute taste

Simon sneezed as his hair shot out like a slingshot and the whole bed was covered with a sea of ​​strings. He took a few sips of cocoa, but then groaned in disappointment.

"I can't taste anything.." The Mexican lunged beside him, taking the cup from his hands and taking a few sips.

"Only thirty percent cocoa."

"You're not helping," he grunted.

"What can I help you with?" He raised one eyebrow and wound one of the strings around his finger, and it immediately fell apart. "I am taking care of you, that's definitely enough." Simon took his cup from him and flopped down on the pillows. He coughed and turned to the boy.

"How did you know how many percent cocoa there is?"

"Acute taste," he replied without taking his eyes off the phone. The brown-eyed grabbed his cheeks and pressed their lips together with a passionate kiss. Brunet made a muffled sound. Lewis licked his lower lip, and as Santiago opened his mouth slightly, their tongues began to fight a fierce battle. "You taste like caramel," he gasped.

 Super speed

They stood facing each other. They had to fight each other at the school tournament. Raphael was sure he could beat Lewis and throw him over the white rope. However, he was wrong.

Each of the quirks has its own physical properties and cannot be used forever.

When Simon attacked, in a split second he was out of reach in the year of the pitch.

"It's weird to fight like this not with you, but with your hair," he smiled slyly.

"You are fighting me" he attacked again. The dark-eyed dodged the blow again.

"Make an effort more" moved at the boy with supernatural speed, but to his surprise Simon stepped back at the last moment.

 Lewis seemed to be deliberately dealing blind blows. At times he missed Santiago by a millimeter.

The Mexican stood in the center, Simon in front of him. He was barely standing and breathing heavily. He used his limit.

Raphael decided not to give up and ran towards him, but fell to the sand. Lewis merely wrapped the strings around it and placed it gently outside the white line.

Simon Lewis won.

 Super strength

"Hey Raphael, can you .." Simon looked at him with surprise and horror in his eyes. Black-haired was holding three shopping nets in both hands without any effort. "I  wanted to ask you only for two .."

"I'll take them all," he replied, heading for the car.

"You definitely scare me at times."

"And many times I save your ass."

Simon woke up in the evening. He felt confidently rested despite his stuffy nose and the pain in his sinuses. He sat up in bed and looked around the room. The purple curtains were drawn apart, making the blue carpet shine with moonlight. He himself was lying on a huge bed among scarlet sheets, and a black canopy hung around him. He kicked himself out from under the duvet and got up from the bed. He left the room barefoot, admiring the paintings hanging on the walls.

He made his way down the stairs, noticing Raphael sitting on the couch with one leg over his leg and in the same robe that he have have in the morning. Mexican was holding a cigarette in two fingers of his right hand and a pen in the other. In front of him, on the table in he had some papers scattered and a glass of red wine stood in the corner. There was a Spanish series on the TV. Simon didn't understand anything, but at least he guessed it must be some kind of romance.

"And what are you going to do all night, huh?" Santiago smiled, inhaling the smoke. Lewis jumped up.

"I don't know.." he whispered, going down.

"Did you sleep well?" he released a puff of gray, then stubbed out his cigarette in the ashtray.

"Okay.. I think.." The Mexican looked up at him.

"Your eyes are shining," he stood up and pressed his warm, smooth hand to his forehead. "Wait here."

"No! Raphael.. I'll be getting ready, really, I don't want to cause you any trouble.." the dark-eyed man put a finger on Simon's lips.

"You're not going anywhere. Go to the couch."

"Raphael.."

"No" he was already in the kitchen. Simon sighed and took a seat on the sofa, which was obviously to Amor's liking. He immediately jumped onto Simon's lap, hoping his owner would not order him to get down.

When Santiago returned with the silver tray containing the medication, Simon surveyed him again. He had to admit he looked really handsome. On his pale, angelic face, full red lips curled into a smile and black, natural curls fell on his forehead. He definitely preferred them to gelled hair.

"So" Raphael's voice sounded distant. "Have you made up your mind?" He put a thermometer in the younger boy's mouth.

"Not yet" oxygenated by the device.

"Relax. We have time," he said, taking the thermometer from his mouth. "You have a fever. Take your medication and under the blanket" Lewis knew it was no longer worth protesting.

After a while he was lying under the layers of thick blankets, with a cup of tea in his hands and a towel over his forehead, the Mexican laid it on the table, then turned off the TV and sat down next to him.

"What time do you usually go to bed?" He asked. The dark-eyed man laughed.   "It depends. Usually at eleven o'clock, unless the papers are too big," he pulled out another cigarette from the packet. Simon found Santiago's laugh to be one of the most beautiful sounds he had ever heard.

 ***

 Simon recovered after a week. He had good days with Raphael. Sometimes he also had nightmares or unpleasant dreams that made him mumble loudly and Raphael had to wake him up. Lewis made up his mind. He opted for both options He was supposed to work from Monday to Friday noon as a barista, on Friday evening he was supposed to keep the customers entertained with the guitar and he had the weekend off. The Mexican assured him that he would change him again as soon as he got into college.

Right. Collage.

Simon found the perfect university, close to the Santiago coffee shop. He was only half an hour away by bus, so he thought it was the right choice. The new recruitment season didn't start until January, so they had to wait.

They still lived together. Raphael managed to persuade his friend to return to his home to collect his belongings. He managed to take the guitar, which was the most important subject for him.

But Simon noticed there was something wrong with Santiago. Dark circles under his eyes and slow movements revealed that he was sleepy and tired. He was smoking more cigarettes than ever. Many times Lewis has seen him hiding his face in his hands and shaking his head, generally looking down on pressure and stress.

"Raphael are you okay?" he asked as Santiago sat tired at the table one afternoon. The man grunted and threw the papers on the table, inhaling the smoke.

"Yes, of course," he replied. He put his hand on the back of his neck and tilted his head slightly, squeezing his eyes shut. Then he moved his arms for a moment and resumed his activity.

"It hurts you?"

"Uh.. a little.." he rubbed his eyes. The brown-eyed stood behind the back of the couch, grabbed his shoulders and pressed him against the backrest. "Simon?"

"Relax," he muttered and began massaging. Santiago let out a soft sigh. "What's going on? Are you having a hard days at work? I didn't think you could have such a mess of time as a cafe owner," Raphael sighed.

"It's a family business. The premises are scattered all over America. There are plenty of papers," he relaxed. Lewis looked at his angelic face. The Mexican opened his eyes and they stared at each other for a moment, the brown-eyed came closer and after a while their lips met.

The kiss was slow and uncertain. The lips moved in a consistent, even pace. Lewis let out a satisfied sigh. But later he jumped back as if scalded.

"God, Raphael, I'm sorry! I'm sorry! No.. I don't know what got into me .."

"Simon!" The boy looked at him. "Calm down. Come here" he grabbed his hand and he walked over from behind the couch and sat down next to him. Raphael took his face by both hands. "Now listen to me. We didn't talk about such things. Remember when you came out of the closet?"

"Yes.."

"I was so damn proud of you and still am. We never talked about my orientation because I was still not sure at the time. I didn't want to burden you, so I talked to Magnus a lot. I'm bisexual, Simon.

"Re.. really?"

"Yeah.. well, there are more things I wanted to tell you but I was too scared," he took a deep breath. "I like you, Simon. As long as I can remember" Simon smiled.

"I like you too" Raphael leaned in and pressed their lips together in a deep kiss.

 ***

Simon applied to college. Now he has to wait. He collected every money in a bank account and tried very hard not to spend it.

They got together with Raphael and he was very happy about it. After all, after this unpleasant month, he could experience true, sincere happiness.

They spent the holidays together, celebrating them with both traditions - Christian and Jewish. There was still a menorah on the windowsill in the living room.

He was at work and finished his shift. He went into the back room, trading with his newly met friend Jace. He undid his apron, put on his jacket and backpack, then pulled out his phone and typed a short message to Raphael.

To: Rapha [16.36] I will be soon ;)

He said goodbye to the blonde and left. He headed for the bus stop. He waited for him for half an hour in snow up to his ankles and in frost, and by the way it got dark.

But at least he was home just in time for a warm dinner.

He sat down at the table when he felt a vibration in his pocket. He checked the display and almost choked on his food. He began coughing and Santiago slapped his back in terror.

"I.. it's okay! Don't hit!" He choked out and stood up quickly. "Got in! Got in!"

"Congratulations! I knew you would get in!" Raphael held out his arms and the brown-eyed man ran into his arms.

"Quadruple loutz!" The commentator's voice rang out, the screams of spectators and the flapping of Mexico's flags. The skates left scratches in the ice with a thud.

The little boy clapped his hands and joined the screams. The skater made another spin, then smoothly slowed down and stopped, hands up.

The screams grew louder, but the man heard them as if from a distance, the view began to blur, his breathing became heavier and sweat trickled down his temple. Then the body fell onto the cold ice.

 ***

Alberto ran up the stairs enthusiastically. He turned towards the opening and looked down.

"Emily, come faster!" he called the little girl.

"I'm going I'm going!" she shouted back in a thin voice. She followed her friend into the attic, looking around. Alberto ran between the cartons and boxes and started rummaged. "Hey, don't start without me!" he took the gold medal in his hand.

"Look, this is one of them!" He marveled and put the award around his neck.

"Won't your dad be angry that we're rummaging around here?" She asked, picking up the statuette.

"He shouldn't" the boy took a lot of other gold medals from the box, including three silver and two bronze ones.

"We'd better be quieter so that we don't wake them up," said the girl, while looking at the photo. There were three skaters in it. One of them - of medium height, with jet-black hair and dark eyes with a gold medal around his neck, stood on a platform with flowers in his hands.

"That's daddy! Why is he keeping it all here?" He asked indignantly. Such trophies shouldn't be piled up in cardboard boxes in the attic!

"I don't know," Emily answered. 

"Look, it's his skates!" They were made of white leather, with high heels.

"They look girly," Emily said.

"They're not girly!" He took off his shoe and put his foot in it. "I'll be skating like daddy too!"

"You want to be a skater too?"

"I don't know, but I will definitely skate!" There was a patter of feet. The children turned towards the stairs on which the black-haired woman stood.

"Alberto? Emily? What are you doing here? Get off, now! Luckily you didn't fall down the stairs," She muttered to herself. "I should have told Raphael and Simon to close this hatch."

"I'm coming, mom," the brunette muttered, the boy trailing after her. Isabelle Lightwood helped them came down and the two ran to the boy's room.

"I took one of the medals!" He shouted triumphantly.

***

"Simon, stop snoring.."

"I'm not snoring.." Simon stammered, still half asleep, his hands tightened on the Mexican's stomach.

"If you weren't snoring, I wouldn't tell you to stop," he turned to face him with difficulty. Simon opened his eyes and shifted his hands. Now they were resting on the older man's chest. Brunet moved closer, hiding his head in the hollow of Simon's neck. The brown-eyed placed a kiss on the head of the shorter, running his hand over his husband's back. "It's today," he whispered with a smile on his lips. The brown-eyed man reciprocated the smile.

"Mhm.." he nodded.

"I can't believe it's been seven years since that event," Raphael said. He stroked Simon's leg with his fingertips. "The time flies way too fast," he said.

"I agree with you," he chuckled, then got up from the bed.

"Hey, where are you going?" Raphael groaned.

"Get dressed and make breakfast. The girls definitely woke up and now they are taking the bathroom. Al probably isn't sleeping either," he opened the light gray curtains.

"I don't want to get up," he said. Raphael began to feel the effects of yesterday's drinking. Simon said nothing, just rolled his eyes and entered the wardrobe.

White furniture piled up from the floor to the ceiling. He walked over to one of the closets. He put on a black turtleneck that he tucked into his dark pants and grabbed Santiago's T-shirt as he left the room, throwing it at the man.

"Get up, ballerina," he put his hands to the sides.

"Si.." brunet muttered with a muffled voice.

"Don't hum around here, pick up your four letters," he opened the door to the corridor. "I'm waiting for you downstairs," he left the room.

He went downstairs to the kitchen, and then Clary joined him.

"Hi, Simon."

"Hey, Clary," he started the coffeemaker.

"Raphael is still asleep?"

"No. He is slowly waking up" the redhead leaned one hand on the table.

"We'll be leaving soon. We don't want to disturb you on this important day."

"Sure, sure," he replied and started making breakfast. Raphael came down half an hour later when the meal was ready.

"Where did you get it from?" He asked his son, taking the medal in his hand. Terror crossed his face.

"Found it in the attic! You shouldn't keep it there!" Alberto replied. The dark-eyed man just sighed heavily and sat down next to his husband. He hardly spoke during the conversation, and he also struggled to eat.

Simon saw the worry on his face. He put his hand on the back of Raphael's partner's hand. Gold wedding rings glittered on theirs fingers.

"Are you all right?" He asked softly. Brunet nodded.

"Sure."

"Papa, will you play that movie? Please turn it on! Aunt Izzy and aunt Clary and Emily must see it!" Alberto jumped from the table and quickly reached his father.

"Sure," he said hollowly, then stood up.

 ***

"Triple Axel!" Shouted the commentator. Raphael leaned against the couch. All six were just watching his performance at the world competition.

Raphael Santiago was a figure skater for nine years. He felt his passion for skates at the age of seven, and began his career at the age of twenty-three.

Are you wondering why he gave it up?

This is not giving up.

It's a break.

Raphael's trainer was firm and strict, which caused the man huge problems. Among other things, problems with sleeping, fatigue and starvation, which caused loss of consciousness at one of the competitions.

Seven years ago, he - Simon Lewis (now Santiago) came to the show. A kind of innocent meeting at the rink, but Lewis knew perfectly well what was up. This could be inferred from the skater's pale face, emaciated body, and how the coach treated Raphael during breaks.

It seemed that the six-time world champion was clearly interested in an ordinary young man. This is how their relationship developed.

It was hot and scorching. The air was heavy and thick. Still drenched in the scent of hairsprays, various gels and shampoos, Raphael pushed his way through the people on the sidewalk, wondering what they were doing here at a time when the sun was shining very strongly and he adjusted the sunglasses that had slipped from his nose.

He adjusted the bag over his shoulder, his mouth feeling uncomfortably dry. Finally he stepped out of the largest crowd and saw a boy in a blue T-shirt and a yellow backpack in front of him. He was holding a bouquet of flowers in his hand.

He was running towards him.

"Maybe you'll like them!" The boy cried out in tears and handed him the bouquet. He hugged him tightly, then ran away. The Mexican stopped.

He looked at the flowers - delicate orange and white roses to be exact. Although some of the petals and stems were bent, they were beautiful. The black-haired man turned and when he saw the fragment of the yellow backpack, he ran after him.

"Hey! Wait!" He screamed. The boy stopped. The dark-eyed approached him. The moment he looked at it closely, he could see a red mark on his face and a few small scratches.

"You.. you don't like them?" A shaky smile crept across his face, and his voice sounded even sadder and more pitiful.

"What? N.. no! No, no! They are beautiful, really! Just.. what happened?" The boy said nothing, only tears appeared in his large, chocolate eyes hidden behind his glasses, and the smile disappeared. He didn't answer anything, just threw himself into Santiago's embrace.

Surprised by the whole situation, Raphael just patted his back.

"What's your name?"

"S.. Simon.." he choked out.

"Beautiful name. I'm Raphael. So, Simon. Where do you live? It's really hot, so why don't I walk you to home?"

"I don't have a home. I live with friends", the expression on the brunet's face softened and he felt a twinge in his heart.

"Then I'll take you to your friends?"

"No. I don't want to go back there now" Raphael looked around, then sighed.

"Then why don't we go to see me? You look tired," Simon relented.

"Let it be.."

A pleasant chill hit them as they entered Raphael's apartment. Santiago led him to a white couch and went into the kitchen to find a vase and place a bouquet of roses in it. Then he took two glasses, poured water into them, and a few ice cubes with a lemon slice.

He returned to the living room and handed one to the brown-eyed.

"Thank you," he said softly, and took a few gulps of it.

"So, could you tell me.."

"I confessed my love to a friend. But.. but he rejected it and hit me with a bouquet .."

"Oh, Simon.. but that just means he didn't deserve you.."

"And you know what's the best? He lives there with us and my best friend is dating him and she didn't even bother to tell me!"

"I know how you feel.. I know how you feel, Simon.." he whispered.

"It means that.."

"Yes. I like boys. My family is Catholic. Me too," he pulled a pendant with a thick, golden cross from under his shirt. "My mother, although she loved... me very much, could not accept it. Through the humilitation I had tasted from my brothers I packed my bags and left the family home. Sometimes I still call my mother, but very rarely."

"Oh.. I'm so sorry.."

"But that was once. Let's take care of you, okay? Let's talk about something else. What is your hobby?"

"I play the guitar.. I also like to write poetry. I go to high school, but.. I also work, I have to earn money for my stay."

"I am already working. I am a hairdresser, but painting pictures is my passion.. "

"You can paint? My friend too.."

"Hey. Don't think about them now."

"I want to see your paintings" he said.

"Really?"

"Yes," he nodded.

"Hmm.. all right. Come on," he got up from the couch and led him to another room. It smelled of paints, the floor was covered with foil and there were easels with paintings everywhere. In the center there was a canvas with an unfinished painting. It depicted a park path surrounded by cherry trees.

"Oh wow.." he whispered. Wow.. damn.. they.. they are beautiful" Santiago smiled.   "Thank you." Simon walked over to another of the paintings. This time it was sunflowers.

"How long have you been painting?"

"Six years. At home I had no option. When I got under the roof of my best friend, I started there. He took care of everything perfectly", he corrected the brushes in the can. "You know what? I'll make us something to eat. You must be hungry."

"No, no.. I'll be going.. I made too much trouble.." He chuckled nervously.

You didn't make any trouble. I insist. "

"Okay, fine."

 ***

 In the evening, Simon looked up from the phone and then at Raphael.

"I gave my friend the address.. she will be here to pick me up."

"Yes, sure ..." After thirty minutes, a black-haired girl appeared at the door.

"Oh, Simon!" She shouted. "You don't even know how worried I was! Jace told me everything and.. what got into you going to a man you don't know!?"

"Raphael is no a bad guy," he replied tartly. He picked up his backpack and the dark-eyed man. "Thank you.. thank you for today. Can.. can I get your number?"

"Sure" he smiled. As the two left his apartment, he looked at the roses.

Soulmate AU, where on the eighteenth birthday, a tattoo with the name of the soulmate appears on the body.

"So it's today."

"Yes," Simon stared at the kitchen tiles and began to move his legs nervously.

"Is something bothering you?" Rebecca set a plate with toasts and a cup of tea in front of him.

"You know.. I don't know if it's any serious reason," he smiled nervously.

"Most of your reasons are serious. C'mon tell me," she sat down in front of him. "What's in your head."

"So.." he sighed. "It's about Raphael."

"I knew that!"

"You're not helping," he grunted, but smiled involuntarily, this time sincerely.

"You are probably worried that if his name shows up to you, it turns out he has someone else." Sounds false, but it happens sometimes. Simon has heard of many instances where soulmates were not meant for each other at all. "Or someone else will show up to you."

"Yes."

"Oh, Simon. It's cute. It's just like the books" there have been a lot of books about people that have fallen in love with each other but they weren't soulmates. Misfortune met them later.

"Do you wish me bad luck?" He muttered.

"No, of course not. You know what I mean," she winked at him, Lewis rolled his eyes and finally started eating the toasts. "Oh, today you're going out and you can come back if I call you. I heard Raphael is playing a match, so you will go and watch."

"W.. what? But.."

"No buts. Trust your sister."

"Sure.."

***

An hour later, Rebecca had nearly pushed him out the door. He huffed, adjusted his bag, and headed for the field. He didn't know what his sister was going to do, but he didn't want to get in her way anymore. In fact, he preferred to stay home - a tattoo could appear at any time.

He looked nervously at his wrist watch and bit his lip. He had fifteen minutes. He sped up, only to be on the pitch after a while.

"Hola," he heard a male voice with a strong Spanish accent. Simon jumped and turned around.

"Woah, Raphael! You scared me!" The older boy laughed.

"Lo siento." Simon glared at him. He was wearing his team uniform, the captain's red armband was on his arm and a velcro patch on his wrist. Raphael had already got his tattoo, but he was covering it as much as he could.

“Yep! I will always support my friend!” Santiago laughed again.

"I'm glad about that," he smiled, revealing a row of gleaming white teeth.

"Raph! Come on, let's get started!"

"I'm coming!" He shouted back, then added in a whisper "I will be at your birthday today", winked at him and ran to the locker room. Simon's heart was pounding as if it was about to pop out of his chest.

Rebecca. He hissed in his mind and headed for the stands.

The match went quickly. Raphael was a really good captain and by working properly with the other players he ensured his team victory. Lewis, on the other hand, hardly tore his throat, with ferocious support. Or maybe he did, after all?

When the final whistle sounded, he waited for the teams to return to the dressing room and left the stands himself. He took his phone out of his pocket and wrote to his sister.

Simon [11.34] Can I go home?

Becca [11.37] No.

He sighed in frustration and dropped the device into his bag. He crossed his arms over his chest, stamping his foot nervously. He didn't know what to do with himself at all. He put his hands in his pants pockets, was about to leave when he heard his friend's voice again.

“Espera, Simon!” He exclaimed, waving at him. This time he changed into black, knee-length jeans and a black and white short-sleeved shirt. He looked stunning.

"Yes?" He replied as he broke out of his trance.

"Would you like to take a walk? I don't know, maybe eat something? I'm starving," he chuckled. The brown-eyed could not hide his blush.

"I have no money.."

"It's your birthday, I'll pay," he said and put his arm around him. Simon felt a pleasant shiver.

"Well.. fine. But I'll pay you back," the Mexican rolled his eyes.

"You don't have to" headed towards the center.

"Congratulations on winning. You were great," he said.

"Not only me. It's thanks to the whole team. Haven't you considered playing soccer?"

"Me? Oh no, no. I'm very clumsy." Lewis shook his head.

"You'd have worked it out," he patted him on the shoulder.

"No, no. Really, I'm not fit for sports. Where are we going to eat?"

"Wherever you want."

"So.. maybe Takis?"

***

Becca [13.56] Come home. Take Raphael with you.

Simon [13.57] How do you know Raphael is with me !!?!?

Becca [14.00] I can feel it. Come back.

Simon snorted. He looked at Santiago, who was in no rush with his shake, and looked at something on the phone.

"I have to go back. Do you want to come with me?"

"And you want me to go?" He answered the question with a question and smiled brightly. Lewis adjusted his glasses.

"S.. sure.."

"Then I'll go. Just let me go to my home and dress more appropriately," he nodded and they headed for Raphael's house. Thirty minutes later, they were at Simon's house, which was drowning inside with balloons, streamers, cakes, cookies and other food.

Lewis blushed, but more from embarrassment than anything else.

***

Simon was sitting on the couch, sipping water dimly. Suddenly he felt a huge stab in his hand, which caused the cup to be throwed away automatically.

"Simon? Are you okay?" Clary approached him with excitement in her voice. He grabbed his wrist, feeling like someone was scratching his skin with a hot rod. "Tattoo? Oh God, it begins!" In the blink of an eye, everyone gathered around him.

"Take your hand off when the pain wears off," Magnus advised him, leaning against the back of the couch.

"Great, but why does it hurt so much?" He hissed.

"You have delicate skin," Rebecca muttered as he rolled his eyes. Then he felt ice sparks and the pain was gone. He was scared. He was afraid to remove his hand, he was stressed. He had no idea whose name could be there.

"I.. I think I'm already," he stuttered and a cold shiver ran through him.

"Take your hand off."

"Don't worry," he took a deep breath and removed his hand. The name Raphael Santiago was written on his wrist in elegant black script.

Later, all eyes were on the Mexican.

Lewis bit his lip, feeling the joy inside. But stress and nervousness took off.

The black-haired reached for his patch and unfastened it. Lewis wanted to shout: faster! The patch fell off and he stuck out his hand. In the same place, the name Simon Lewis was written sloppy on his skin.