Michelle Chandra

“Alec," Magnus said. He put a hand on his boyfriend’s shoulder; Alec was standing still, staring angrily at the floor. "Are you okay?"
Alec looked at him. "Who are you again?"
Magnus gave a little gasp; he looked — for the first time Simon could remember — actually unnerved. It lasted only a moment, but it was there. "Alexander," he said.
"Too soon to joke about the happy memory thing, I take it," Alec said.”
― Cassandra Clare, City of Lost Souls

“I just don't see why the past has to matter.”
― Cassandra Clare, City of Fallen Angels

“What have you done to my cat?" Magnus demanded... "You drank his blood, didn't you? You said you weren't hungry!"
Simon was indignant. "I did not drink his blood. He's fine!" He poked the Chairman in the stomach. The cat yawned. "Second, you asked me if I was hungry when you were ordering pizza, so I said no, because I can't eat pizza. I was being polite."
"That doesn't get you the right to eat my cat."
"Your cat is fine!" Simon reached to pick up the tabby, who jumped indignantly to his feet and stalked off the table. "See?"
"Whatever.”
― Cassandra Clare, City of Lost Souls

“Wear that scarf," he said, pointing to a blue cashmere scarf hanging on a peg. "It matches your eyes."
Alec looked at it. Suddenly he was filled with hate - for the scarf, for Magnus, and most of all for himself. "Don't tell me," he said. "The scarf's a hundred years old, and it was given to you by Queen Victoria right before she died, for special services to the Crown or something."
Magnus sat up. "What's gotten into you?"
Alec stared at him. "Am I the newest thing in this apartment?"
"I think that honor goes to Chairman Meow. He's only two."
"I said newest, not youngest," Alec snapped.”
― Cassandra Clare, City of Lost Souls