I may continue adding more as I write them.. If anyone has any ideas of certain things Magnus can look back on, let me know! This chapter is Magnus' POV.

There are such a wide variety of things that I can only hope to never forget. Forgetting would be dismissing. Dismissing would be losing, and I simply cannot bear to lose anything more.

I want to keep forever the memory of when our eyes first met; embarrassment had painted your cheeks in such a lively shade of red while your eyes sparkled, reminding me of the night stars that shine onto a calm, blue ocean.

I fear that each time I picture you in my mind, a part of you is altered. The blush against your pale skin isn't intense enough. It should match the color of your soft lips but even those I can't seem to get right. Your hair isn't dark enough; it doesn't look silky enough. My mind just isn't capable of conjuring up the image of exactly how it was styled, if you could call it that. It's either too messy or too neat, never the way you wore it. And your eyes… Were they the color of a cloudless sky just moments after the sun had fully set? Or did they have the color of ice, yet all the warmth of a bonfire's flame?

Those aren't real questions I ever ask myself. I know that it would be impossible for me to truly forget the smallest things about your looks. I will always be able to recognize when the 'you' in my dreams is even slightly different than the 'you' in my reality used to be.

But we all have our worries, and one of mine is that someday, those questions will become a reality.

Even though I know that there will never be a camera in the world that could have captured your full beauty, every morning, night, and moment in between I find myself looking at pictures of you. They're faded and worn with age and use but I can't find it in me to care; those are the ones I look at everyday in order to breathe properly. They have the least amount of memories attached to them; I want to see your face, not break down more often than I already do. But I still have the other photos that have been taken of you, the ones that poke and pick at the scabs that cover my heart. However the time to look at or even think of those pictures are for different days.

While the pictures serve as a constant memory enhancer—one that I hope to never actually need—of your face, there is nothing that can refresh my mind on the sound of your voice.

For as long as I could I paid for your phone bill. You were the only person I ever called, even though you were the only one who was not around to answer.

I remember the first time I called you when you were gone. Jace had answered the phone. I know now that he believed he was doing the right thing; he thought I was trying to contact him, and that calling your phone was the only way I knew how. But at the time, when I was just so desperate to hear your voice again, and instead got Jace's, I lost it.

One ring. Two rings. Three rings. Four—"Magnus, hey… How have you been?"

Magnus remained silent. This wasn't what he wanted. This wasn't the voice that he needed to hear. The phone was supposed to ring four times and then go to voicemail; he should be listening to his Alexander's voice by now.

"J-jace?" His voice cracked slightly, its only use for the past few days was to cry and scream in frustration, a frustration that was currently growing. "Jace?" Magnus repeated, though this time the name was growled instead of whispered.

After my initial surprise that someone had actually answered the phone, I used a few choice words that I've picked up along my life and made it very clear to Jace that he was never to answer your phone again. As stubborn as he has always been, he surprisingly put up less of a fight than I had imagined. He must have been as emotionally drained as I was.

So I tried again. I'd heard your voicemail so many times before you were gone. I knew exactly what you'd say, and I knew why you'd say it. I knew that you put those words into your voicemail because of the many times I called, solely for the purpose of letting me know how much I love you. So I should have been prepared for what I heard.

Alec Lightwood, leave a message if it's important. If it's Jace or Iz, refrain from calling me another hundred times please? I'm not dead; I'll call you back. If it's Magnus… I love you too.

But I wasn't prepared. I didn't know whether to laugh or cry or smile or scream. My heart didn't know whether to flutter, like it always did each time you made your love known, or to crack, because I knew I'd never get to hear those words in person again.

I would call you at least once a day after that. Eventually Jace just brought your phone to me, and that's when I began to pay for it. I couldn't let your familiar, loving voice be taken away from me. I didn't know if I'd be able to handle having that taken away from me again.

Of course things wouldn't be that easy, would they dear? Of course many, many years later, your cellphone company unexpectedly turned off your phone. Of course they went out of business, and of course they didn't warn me before ending it.

I'd lost your voice, and that's when it hit me the hardest. Suddenly so many emotions that just a simple voicemail of yours was able to keep contained came pouring out.

I'd never hear your voice again. I'd never hear you telling me you love me. I'd never hear your endearing stutter when you got embarrassed. I'd never hear you whisper words that felt so intimate just because you didn't want anyone else to hear. I'd never hear you complaining about my glitter getting all over you, or how long I took to get ready every day. I'd never hear you laugh, or moan, or hum like you did when you were happiest. I'd never hear you say my name, or speak in baby talk to the Chairman. I'd never hear your tired groans and raspy voice in the morning after nights spent together. I'd never hear what you would have sounded like, as you grew old.

I always hear your voice in my head, but how do I know I'm hearing it right? How do I know that the tone and pitch are right? How do I know I'm not hearing you talk faster, or slower, than you really did?

I don't. Unlike with your appearance, I don't have anything to remind me. The only thing I'm clutching onto is the fact that the voice in my head just sounds so right, so you.

I'll be sad the day I realize, I have forgotten the sound of your voice.