"Love?" He asks quietly, tucking his ripped black jean clad legs under his arms, chin rested on his knees. "Love," The elder boy repeats softly, "Don't you love? Have you ever been in love? Haven't you ever loved?" His voice is sweet and silky and the eldest Lightwood is drinking in every syllable, every consonant and vowel, as if it were a fine wine. "I love my brother and sister." "Your parents?" "Redemption is a rarity." "You're a cryptic, Alexander Lightwood." "No," His icy blue eyes pierce through every inch of Magnus Bane's caramel chest and pumping heart- his voice lowers a decibel, and Magnus is basking in the sound, "I'm just closed off, to everyone and anyone."