He tries to remember how it felt to be jealous, when he thought Claudius was sleeping with other people because he wasn't enough -- how it felt to think someone he cared about so much had to look elsewhere, and found it easy to do so, as if in being insufficient he had also become less important, and might lose Claudius' interest altogether. He imagines how it would feel if he were separated from Claudius, and then, when they were rejoined, to find Claudius had made new friends and a new life in in his absence. That wouldn't be the same, he thinks immediately, because Claudius needs people. It would be ridiculous to expect him to keep some long and silent vigil alone; he could never be happy like that. He would fade like a plant with no sunlight to feed its leaves.

But perhaps it's easy to know that in his heart, and harder to feel the truth of it if he were faced with Claudius, happy without him. Easy to want Claudius to find that happiness, and hard not to feel replaced. Alex doesn't know how much Magnus talks about her, or how dreamy his voice gets when he's remembering some amazing thing she did or how she looked, or the way he tried to describe her so Galahad could draw her picture. Like a beautiful poison dart frog. It would be easy to be hurt, and not know how much Magnus misses her.