22 [WHITE]: The Tale of The White Lilies [M].

M= Mature,

TW= Trigger warnings: mentions of violence and rape (just mentions).

Coming clean to himself proved to be a hard thing to do, getting confused between his heart and his mind, as both chose to make the most irrational decision ever, but Harry Styles coming clean to him was a necessity to understand where they were going in their relationship; Zayn Malik couldn't believe what he heard about the cruelty of 'humans'.

"I kill monsters."

Zayn's raised his head in mild surprise, his body started to tense immediately and he licked his lips, feeling his mouth much drier now as he tried to swallow the barely-there saliva, before he gathered the courage to ask, "What do you mean by that?"

"I do what I have to do. I didn't see justice in my city, so I became it." Harry's tone was firm and determined.

"So... you kill people?" Zayn asked again, his voice was a bit shaky, his hands came to rest on top of his lap with his eyes fixating on them as he held his breath.

"You don't seem too fazed about that?" Harry chuckled, as he moved his hand through his hair, Zayn's eyes left his lap and landed on that hand; a bloody hand.

"I somehow figured it out," Zayn mumbled honestly and casted his eyes down again.

"I never tried too hard to hide it in front of you anyway," Harry shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly, "You can say I saw you as a... supporter."

Zayn's eyes narrowed before Harry pulled him to sit on his lap, making him gasp and then relax a little. He thought of all the times Harry asked him if using the flowers bothered him, Zayn sighed, it never did.

"You wanna know how I choose them?" Harry asked all of a sudden as he moved his index finger up and down the stubble on Zayn's cheek, knowing that Zayn's curious nature would make him agree, and his other arm went to wrap around Zayn's waist.

And that was true, Zayn nodded his head eagerly, as he stared into Harry's eyes.

Harry gestured to the first drawer in the dresser next to the bed, and Zayn understood that was an indication for him to open it, Zayn fell off Harry's lap; his little feet made no sound when they touched the floor, and went to do what Harry montioned him to.

He saw a bunch of pictures in the drawer, tied together with a thin beige string. Each one had a number on the left side of it; Zayn scanned the numbers with his inquisitive eyes as he played the edges of every picture with the tips of his index and thumb.

There were eight pictures in total, numbered from 0 to 7, and Zayn recognized two of the faces as he had seen them on television; those were the victims' profile pictures.

Zayn looked up in confusion and Harry beckoned him to come over with the tied pile, and Zayn did so, then sat down again on the side of the bed.

Zayn's mind went fast to think about the eight pictures. Eight? Whose the eighth? The city knew about six murders, he knew about seven, but there are actually eight? his heart was now beating harder and heavier in his chest.

"You may not know Zayn, but I've been working at my father's company for a long time," Harry started, "And although our company is more about advertising, we have other media related sections; a monthly jouranl, a newsletter and websites for different kinds of news in Ethereal City."

Zayn nodded in impatience, he wanted Harry to get to the point already. But he's opening his heart to you, Zayn's demon scolded, his angel had already gotten ignored all night long.

"A lot of news got reported to the section I started working in everyday, some stories gained a lot of people and media attention, and some didn't. Let's say most of them got ignored like nothing had happened, like a person's life hadn't just got screwed." Harry explained placidly before he looked down at the pictures in his hands and pulled the one with the number '1' on the side,

"Number 1. His news got reported to us about two months ago by one of our reporters, Axel, from Montsechia street; you know the ancient street at the west-north side of the lake?" Harry asked and Zayn nodded that he recognized the street's name, he never been to it ever. It was a dangerous street.

"Then his crime got published in the newsletter, this man raped a girl while she was unconscious in a party in Montsechia street, his friend filmed it and posted it on one of Facebook nasty groups, and then it spread. The family of the woman pressed charges against him since the girl had a rare case of hemophilia and she nearly lost her life, a month later the jury proved him innocent." Harry frowned and Zayn gasped in shock.

"How did he get away with it?"

"Her family didn't have the best reputation, her brother was a thief and her dad had killed a cop in his youth days. No one really cared about doing them justice."

"This is so cruel, she is not her family!" Zayn's eyes watered in pain for the poor girl.

Harry looked down and pulled the second picture, another man.

"Number 2, this story is a bit older than the first, it was the second story I ever got it covered myself, this fucker, with the dark mold under the eye, was a father who beat his daughter because he thought she was sexting online. Now, she can't hear in both ears, at all."

"How that fucking scum even call himself a father?!" Zayn placed his hand over his heart.

"You know, everyone knows how to make a baby but not everyone knows how to be a father."

"Why did no one stop him? like the mother maybe?"

"She tried, and he pulled a cutless on her."

"A what??" Zayn cried in horror as he put his hand over his mouth.

"He used to be a sailor... her mum called the police, it wasn't the first time he had hit his daughter. But then the mother and her husband came to a settlement, I don't know how that happened but he spent only 10 days in jail then got out with a fine, and guess where the girl lived after that? Still in his house."

"That's so fucking sick!" Zayn felt his stomach turning, and his eyes filled with more fresh tears, one escaped and fell on Zayn's cheek, Harry reached and wipe it away with his thumb lovingly.

"Don't cry baby, she's safe now. I made sure of that." Harry cupped Zayn's cheek, feeling a sudden warmth in his chest at how soft Zayn was.

"Number 3," Harry sighed, dropping his hand from Zayn's face, "This was a woman. She was the boss of a gang that kidnapped children every now and then and sold them to welling buyers in exchange of money. James was the one who told me about this, and we got the job done. Then he and the police arrested the members and got every kid back to his family."

"So you killed her first then you arrested the members of the gang?" Zayn questioned.

"Yeah, she was a nasty dexterous woman. We gave her an Adevăr, you know the same drug we gave you, and she told us where their hiding place was and then-"

"But how did you know she was the ringleader?" Zayn cut him off by asking as he pulled himself to sit cross-legged on the bed.

"Zayn, never ever interrupt me again while I'm talking, it's rude." Harry snarled with a frown, and Zayn stiffened.

"I'm sorry," Zayn was quick to apologize and his eyes teared, it hurt him to get scolded by Harry, maybe cause he always wanted him to be pleased with him all the time. Harry leaned over him and pressed a small kiss on his lips.

"Now for Number 4-" Harry started again but Zayn patted his arm gently, Harry looked at him, quite puzzled.

"Harry, can you stop please? I don't feel like I can hear anymore now." Zayn whispered, tears were now filling his gorgeous eyes again. Zayn felt he did nothing the whole day but cry.

Harry grabbed Zayn's both shoulders and pulled him closer. Zayn was expecting to flinch, but it surprised him when he didn't.

Harry held his cheek and stared at him with warm caring eyes, before he planted a very deep hungry kiss on Zayn's lips, invading every inch of his hot mouth with his tongue, Zayn relaxed his head back as he clutched on Harry's strong bicep and let out a moan, in seconds he was out of breath and needing.

"What was that for?" Zayn's breathing came out in sharp pants, as he looked at Harry from under his eyelashes; his golden eyes were full of lust.

"I just felt like kissing my boyfriend." Harry smiled against Zayn's lips before he pulled back a little, he was beaming as he looked at Zayn, just saying those words made him feel so happy, Zayn smiled in return.

"I don't want to ruin the mood, but I need a shower so badly." Zayn muttered and Harry let out a chuckle.

"Then go, the shower is over there." Harry pointed at the bathroom door.

"Why don't you bring me back home instead?" Zayn suggested, batting his eyes with a smug look.

"I don't want you stinking my car seats." Harry laughed, making the smug look swab from Zayn's face, since when my charms became so useless?

"I'm kidding baby, don't pout." Harry chuckled again, he obviously was in a much better mode.

"But like, aren't you planning on taking me home?"

"Yes, of course I'm planning on taking you." Harry smirked.

"Harry! I'm serious!" Zayn blushed as he pushed his small fists against Harry's chest.

"So am I. Now, get up so you can have a shower I'll bring you some of my clothes."

"Okay, and when I finish, I need to talk to Liam." Zayn asked softly, having to, rather than wanting, to end things the right way.

Zayn and Liam, they both owe it to the decade they were together.

"No you won't be seeing him, baby." Harry said calmly, and patted Zayn's head like you do to a pet.

"Why not?"

Zayn's heart dropped, is he scared I won't be loyal to him? Does he even trust me?

"If you see him, then you consider yourself getting back with him."

"No, I don't want him Harry! I want you. But I need to end things right, you can't put a new seed in a dirty ground."

"Do you want to get back with him?" Harry pressed, making Zayn go fucking insane.

"I'd heap rather go to a war than go back to Liam." Zayn said, a bit harsh, but he needed to prove his loyalty to Harry.

Harry smirked before he opened the room door,

"Good."

~

Zayn's pov:

Harry left the room at the same time the soft rays of light started to make an appearance as dawn came to life, kinda calming my anxious feelings. I looked out the window to stare at the endless dark green woods, waddling silently with the nippy breeze.

I walked to the bathroom lazily and got into the shower after I took off my clothes, throwing him sloppily on the checkered floor tiles.

The water was cold as expected, sending chills through me as I let it cut on my warm skin. I stood there for a minute, lulling myself and maybe trying to pretend today didn't happen.

What am I going to do?

Now that the drug wasn't controlling me, I had the will to think of everything that happened in the last nearly twenty-four hours.

I knew now Harry was a murderer, the idea kept repeating in my mind, and every time, it scared me even more.

The fact that I was not scared of him you know hurting me, or just him in general was terrifying in itself.

Well, at first he did scare me, but all the way I trusted him, if he asked me to stab myself in the chest with a knife, I would cry and do so before he can say knife.

For the whole past week I felt I was a bad person. And I beat myself over and over, but today after the torture I got from Harry and his men, which I fucking deserved, and kinda loved like Maverick said, I felt more calm and at ease.

But how sick was I to be in love with a criminal?

He did kill for Justice, but was death a fair punishment for what they did?

Yes.

In my mind, he's not a criminal, he was just Harry.

Everything Harry was, screams perfection, he gets you addicted, until you lose your mind, until you're ready to die, until you're ready to kill for him.

I gasped at my own thoughts, Did I just describe the Urn of Eros? Maybe Harry would allow me to wear some drops of his blood around my neck?

But...

Liam, the man who offered me love and support for about ten years, why did I suddenly lose all my passion and interest in him?

A tear escaped my eye and it got washed away with the water, I grabbed the shampoo and put a generous amount on my hand, before messaging my head with it.

I sighed in relief when I saw my length getting soft between my legs, I never thought I'd actually be relieved for something like that.

I heard the bathroom door opening, since it made a loud creaking sound when you open or close it, and I knew Harry was here with my clothes, I turned my head to the side and saw him placing them on the closed toilet seat, and I pretended that his presence didn't made me tense as I was standing there naked.

I didn't find any conditioner as I washed my hair from the shampoo, feeling a lot more relaxed with the pleasant smell. I saw a loofah next to the shampoo, but I didn't think it'd be hygienic using it.

I felt Harry's hands on my shoulder, and I turned around to see him completely naked, and messaging both of my shoulders and my neck gently.

"You can use the loofah, no one has used it before." He said softly.

I turned around more so I was facing him with all my body, and I didn't really bother to stop myself from nuzzling his neck, and leaving a couple of kisses there.

Harry let go of my shoulders and held my cheeks instead, his hot minty breath fanning my face, before he kissed me.

We kissed innocently at first, lips locked to lips. His were pillowy and soft, it's what I imagined clouds would feel like.

But when his tongue dipped into my mouth, I withdrew quickly. "I don't wanna get hard again." I explained. I was just too tired.

And he seemed to understand 'cause he didn't try to kiss me again, he just bent to grab the loofah, putting some shower gel on it, and he started to wash me.

I felt my face flushing when he crouched in front of me, washing my legs and up to my thighs, his hands didn't try to tease my cock as I thought he would to watch me writhe, instead he washed it the quickest, before he continued to my chest and arms.

He then turned me around gently so I was against the wall. I felt my breath quickening when he cleaned my back. My fists clenched on nothing on the wall.

In a swift move, he parted my asscheeks and I was sure I turned redder than a tomato when he started cleaning my hole.

With no warning, he put one finger in and I let out a loud moan when he started cleaning my inner walls.

"Should I stop, Zayn?" He murmured beside my ear, his tongue dipped in the shell before he started sucking my earlobe and I moaned louder and arched my back to meet his hand.

"No.." I whispered.

"I didn't hear you." Harry uttered in a husky deep voice, even though I was sure he heard, before he added another finger inside me.

"I don't want you to stop." I barely was able to talk as he scissoring both fingers fast and repeatedly hitting my prostate.

"I wanna hear you begging me for more." He kissed down my neck, nipping and sucking on my tender flesh.

And I couldn't fight the pleasure any more as I closed my eyes in bliss, "Please, Harry, please." I groaned as I threw my head back on his shoulder.

"Of course baby." I felt his mouth turning up in a smile against my neck.

His other hand left my side to grab my hard shaft, while the other was still messaging my gland, I moaned harder when his hand tightened on me, and I gasped repeatedly as he moved his hand faster.

In a second I felt my vision turning white as I reached my climax, shooting my load against my stomach.

His hands left me, and I sank into my knees in exhaustion, letting my breathing slow.

"What a useless shower that was." Harry laughed and I looked up at him, and saw him smiling softly at me.

From down there, he always looked better, godly even, his hard cock was standing proud and his bicep's muscles were flexing when he moved his hair out of his eyes.

I shifted until I was directly on my knees in front of him and went to take that delicious piece of meat in my mouth, but the moment I opened my lips and pushed my head forward, his hand pulled me back with my hair.

"No, baby. Not right now." He smiled again, "Finish your shower and get dressed, I'll wait for you in the room."

Then he walked out of the bathroom, completely naked and dripping water,  leaving me on my knees with my mouth hanging wide open.

End of Zayn's pov.

~

Zayn walked out of the bathroom to an empty bedroom, dressed in Harry's clothes; a black adidas jumper with a pair of grey pants.

He was barefoot, since they took him before he could put his shoes on his feet. He looked down at them, wiggling his toes before he laid on the bed, deep in thought.

Again, his mind was lost, fucking again! what should he do now?

The door opened and Harry walked inside, he was now wearing a new set of dark jeans that hugged his thighs beautifully, showing proudly his huge package, along with a blue turtleneck. He looked fucking sexy, Zayn had to force himself to stop staring.

He was holding an old pair of Converse in his hand, and he put them in front of Zayn.

"I brought you these, there's socks inside them too." Harry explained.

Zayn nodded and moved to sit on the side of the bed with a sigh, as he started to put the shoes on, Harry ran his hand through his wet hair, tugging with enough force to make him gaze up but not enough to hurt.

"You okay?" Harry asked, cocking his head to the side.

"Yeah I guess. But I have so many things in my mind that I must ask you."

"Of course you do, curious head. Fire away." Harry chuckled and sat down next to Zayn on the bed.

Zayn stayed silent, not knowing where to start, but he knew they wouldn't be able to progress in this relationship if he didn't know what type of a guy Harry was.

"Okay first I wanna ask about the silver box that was in that room I was in with Maverick and James, and that letter inside it, was it meant for me?"

"Well, kinda. It's a page ribbed from one of the victims' diary. The police found it."

"What happened to the person who wrote it?"

"They're alright, still recovering from what happened."

"They? More than one?"

"No, but I met them and that's their preferred gender pronoun."

"Okay, and why did you want me to read it?"

"I don't exactly know, but I felt like it may help you understand what I do to help others." Harry blushed, he freaking blushed, Zayn was speechless and mesmerized for a second.

"And I wanted you to touch the flower. I knew if I put a letter there, your curiosity will make you read it." Harry coughed and continued, Zayn felt a bit angry at what he added.

"You wanted me touch the chrysanthemum? The flower of death? Did you want me to die? Or have bad luck for eternity?" Zayn cried in weak agony. Everyone knew what that flower meant.

"None of these are true."

"Why do you want me cursed??" Zayn shouted again.

"I don't want you cursed. And you won't, Zayn. See, it's all lies. Flowers aren't holy or harmful to us like this. It's all in our heads. They're not possessed. They don't give us bad luck." Harry held Zayn's wrists between his hands to calm him down.

"How could you be so sure?"

"Because I opened my mind and got educated. Most of the time, people don't do that enough to change their opinions. They won't even listen if you spoke against what they believe in. But I'm sure you'll see for yourself." Harry smiled, pecking Zayn's lips.

Zayn's mind flashed with the murdered,  dead people with dead flowers all over them, "That's why you used the flowers?"

"Well, yeah. First I used them as an experiment to see how people would react. But then I just started to have fun with them, and wrote whatever I wanted." Harry grinned.

"What do you mean with 'how people would react'?"

Harry took a deep breath, his face got serious again, his eyes showed an emotion, but Zayn wasn't sure what.

"People in our city value the flowers more than they value the lives of those who died. I watched what televisions discussed, I read what people said on the internet and I heard what they said on the streets; flowers are more valuable and important than humans in Ethereal City."

Zayn gasped softly, he never thought of it that way, do they really? Do they care about a couple of dead flowers more than a dead person?

"Murders happen every now and then, maybe even everyday, but they never paid that much attention, they just started to care and get riled up when I touched their precious flowers." Harry mocked in distress.

"It's what they believed in, Harry. It's what their parents and grandparents believed in, it's also what their children gonna believe. And I don't think you have the right to change that."

"Why not?"

"Beacuse it's not your duty and because they won't listen." Zayn shook his head.

A minute of silent passed between them.

"You heard of The Tale of the White Lilies?" Harry asked.

"I sure did. Every kid, well everyone knows this story."

"And what is it about?" Harry knew the answer but Zayn figured he was trying to prove something.

"When the Frostbitters tried to conquer our city, their leader stopped to pick one of the most beautiful white lilies in the valley, because he and his army never seen anything quite beautiful like it; they lived in ice. And that distracted them for a couple of minutes and got our people to win." Zayn summarized the whole story.

"Right. And what happened to the lilies?"

"The Frostbitters stepped on them and lit them on fire as they were the reason they got defeated. And the story ends with the white lilies dying."

"And what did our people in Ethereal City do?"

Zayn frowned in confusion, "Nothing? I never heard about them doing something."

"Oh baby, there is a complement to that story. Our people started to hallow the flowers and forbidding anyone from harming a flower or stepping on one as that was a reenactment of what the Frostbitters did."

"That makes sense." Zayn nodded.

"They started to respect the flowers as they were reason they got saved, the reason hundreds of people got saved." Harry' jaw was clenching now.

"But now," Harry continued, "People don't know about this story. It got changed in the history of our city, until it got missed out completely."

"Now," Harry was staring intensely into Zayn's eyes, "Flowers have become just a thing for people to be scared of touching, a sin that must not be committed, or you'll end up in Jail or you'll get tortured by the Lord of Death or you'll be spending the rest of your life in a mess of bad luck."

"The fragile flowers that one day distracted the enemy to save the people, became the weapon that slaughter them into fear and blind submission."

When Harry finished this, Zayn could see his piercing green eyes filling with tears and his heart ached, he wanted to pull him to his chest, and hug him like there's no tomorrow, but he knew Harry wouldn't want his sympathy.

"Do you think you can change the world, Harry?" Zayn whispered.

"I don't know, but I'm gonna keep on trying to save it, until my last breath leave my body."

~

A/N: Phew! That was intense.

4300+ words! *heart eyes*

I guess you now know I used flowers as a metaphor for religions.

Hope you liked the chapter. Love you 🖤🖤