ah, monday. usually, when he woke up on monday, there was just more exhaustion. more yawning than there was wide eyes. more dread than any other emotion. yet, his stomach was light. it did a flip as he remembered that tonight was the night. how well it went the past two days... how easy it was to talk to magnus. how much more simple it made everything. that was fucked up, wasn’t it? to forge a bond with someone even though he shouldn’t have. there was a part of alec, a big part, that really did enjoy talking to magnus. it was just complicated. it was important that doing so was easy so this could go as smoothly as possible. that’s just how it had to be.
he hadn’t needed to stalk magnus today, there was no need to tail, no need to take photos, or find lucrative spots to end his life. he already had a golden opportunity that was wide open. just waiting for him to strike. so, yeah. alec was excited. it was a weird feeling, but one that he found welcoming. wonders if everyone felt this way leading up to their first contracted kill.
alec spends the day training, planning, and then promptly packing everything up. he stuffed his camera bag full of things he’d need: his camera, extra film, gloves, a syringe full of something special ( m99 - etorphine ), and of course, weed. lots of weed. along with some wraps, because that was the plan, really. spend time with him for a few hours, let him get comfortable. everything would be slow, and the process would be long but that’s okay. that’s what he’s been expecting since he was a child. patience was a virtue, and all that.
he left his loft at exactly two thirty-two in the morning, bag over his shoulder, and his camera in hand. acting normal would be easy, considering he’s never felt strange around magnus. it was always... simple. felt that way at least, even though it wasn’t. it was 3:05 in the morning when he ended up at magnus’ doorstep. the jacket he said he liked still on him, because he didn’t feel like testing a new one. not that he cared what magnus thought of him or his clothes... nope. he knocked on the door, knuckles hard as they rap against the wood. the mercenary feels a pounding in his chest, his heart racing. why was he getting nervous now?
the second magnus opened the door, alec raised his camera up, and promptly snapped a picture of him. “hey,” he greeted, grin wide as he held the polaroid between two fingers before handing it off to his company for the night --- or, extremely early morning. “how was your day?”