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The Beauty and the Rage

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Screams of pain, the heat of burning flames, and no sign of light was all he ever knew. The smell of desperation and death shaped him into the monster he is today.

In the deepest layer of hell and in the arms of Lucifer himself has always been his home. With powers beyond human understanding, he was the definition of fearing the unknown.

As the story goes; centuries ago, an angel was banished from the heavens to the depths of hell. He was left with nothing, no light and no love. After spending decades in the darkness of the deep, he managed to fall in love with a woman on earth. After watching her carefully through his crystal ball - he casted her down into the deep with himself. She was his other half. One to love, to hold, and to adore.

Her name was Elizabeth. A human, she was not made to survive in the deep - but she was all he ever wanted. To make her immortal, Lucifer gives her a ring. It gave the woman powers that were unexplainable and together, they ruled the depths of the dark with evil intentions.

Until one day, decades before humanity evolved, in the deepest layer of hell, a child was born. Born into darkness and the child of chaos, he was called Harry. With eyes of the brightest fire, his mother and father loved him dearly.

Raised in the home of suffering, Harry grew and matured into a monster. He had inherited the genes of his father and the beauty of his mother. The boy enjoyed most things people thought of as night-terrors.

Only Harry and his mother could go up to the surface, leaving Satan to be alone once again. It wasn't until Elizabeth disappeared in the middle of the night, without a word.

Reappearing on the surface of the earth, she began to explore the smallest of towns. It wasn't until, she was accused of witchcraft when she was stoned to death by the villagers. Without her beloved ring, she was no match for the torture that was forced upon her.

Blinded by rage, Satan lost himself. His wife, brutally murdered by humans. With only his son by his side, Lucifer vowed to make all of humanity pay for the death of his beloved.

Chapter Text

"Father," Harry's knuckles knocked on the large burgundy door.

Behind it was his father's office, the one room Harry was never allowed to peek inside. From when he was a small child, a mischievous one at most, he would always get a heavy scolding from either following his father into the forbidden room or sneaking in by himself when his parents were long asleep. The tall frame, a deep brown with the smallest of details. They were carved by whomever is father hired all those years ago. Images of suffering souls, bright flames, and of course - upside-down crucifixes decorating the wood.

"Come in."

Pushing the heavy door open, Harry doesn't dare to look anywhere but the red eyes of his father and stands perfectly straight with his toes pointed forwards, "you sent for me?"

They didn't look anything alike. Lucifer and Harry. After all, Harry inherited the everlasting enchanting looks of his late mother. His father's blazing eyes and black hair contrasting with Harry's forest greens and curly brown locks.

His father ran a hand through his thinning hair, keeping his gaze locked on his son, the orbs reminding him of his one and only, "yes, I did." The man gestures to the empty red cushion chairs at the front of his desk, "Have a seat, Harry."

The younger of the two obeys, he leans back against the leather and straightens his loose sheer black button up, "what is it?"

"I need you to do something for me, Harry." His words are short but his face shows emotions that are enough send a wave of goosebumps.

"What is it, father?"

It wasn't an everyday occurrence when Lucifer would ask something of Harry. Their relationship only grew with the passing of Elizabeth, but not even with her death - Satan wasn't dropping heavy responsibility onto his son's shoulders. He may he most hated for eternity but he loved Harry like any father.

Lucifer sighs, his dark red eyes meeting Harry's in an intense stare, "you and I both know that I can't withstand the surface - with the mortals." His face twists in anger and disgust at the bare thought of the beings.

The beings who tore his wife away. The same beings who he despises with every ounce of vexation in his body.

"Of course." Harry nods, taking a moment to twist one of the rings on his finger.

Just as soon as he touched the thick silver, it transformed into a snake. The creature wrapped around his digit, the tail brushing over his knuckle and the silvery scales glimmering in the light of the chandelier that hung above his head. The small head of the animal poking out from behind his nail and staring at Harry with it's black eyes. It hissed at it's owner with it's tongue slithering out and vibrating in the air.

"And, we both know very well that those same things murdered your mother."

Harry winces slightly, he can feel the pain he felt all those years ago. The avalanche comes crashing down on him a moment too fast where he can't seem to grasp the fact that his father was still talking.

"-for me."

Harry pushes away those thoughts of his mother, he healed long after her death. The man takes a deep breath and clears his throat, "pardon, Father?" Harry averts his attention from his snake friend to Satan's hard face.

His father folds his hands on the desk, his shoulders squared and jaw tight, "I want you to destroy a species for me."

A wicked smirk crawling it's way onto Harry's face as he can practically see the blood shed, hears the musical screams and feel the rush of adrenaline when he rips them away form everything they've ever known.

Lucifer senses his son's excitement and can't help but be proud, he raised his boy right.

Harry shifts in his seat, "okay, what does this species have to do with humans?"

"The species soon to be extinct are the humans, Harry."

Chapter Text

"Hey, kid!" The older man yells, pushing through the crowd of people. "Give me back my wallet!"

With one wave of Harry's hand, the man is turning around with blank eyes and continuing down the street. This makes the green eyed man chuckle.

The zooming cars, chatty citizens and occasional honk of a horn made Harry hate the surface more than he thought he did. It is a windy day, grey clouds ghosting over the sun and causing the temperature to be lower. The tall man smirks and flips through the old leather wallet, taking out bills and stuffing them into his pocket. He tosses the credit cards and photo IDs in unsuspecting citizens bags and eventually drops the wallet in a nearby trash can.

He passes different faces, immediately knowing what they're thinking and rolling his eyes at their thoughts. Humans are simply wasting their time. Idiots. Tall skyscrapers grow from the ground, tiny fast food restaurants and small shops litter the streets, as well as actual trash. If the humans had a brain, they wouldn't ruin their planet.

After all, it didn't matter what Harry did in Hell because his home was literally indestructible. But, Earth was more delicate than the imbeciles who inhabit it thought, soon enough they'll know. If Harry didn't pull through with his mission, they will surely die as a result of their stupidity. Obviously, Harry most definitely will complete his mission. He has no sympathy for the mortals and didn't plan on getting any.

"Find their weaknesses, hold it against them. Break them, rip them apart and wipe them off the face of the universe."

"What did you say?"

Harry looks down and sees a small pale girl, her blonde hair pulled into a ponytail and dark brown eyes staring at him. He smacks his gum and rolls his eyes, "mind your own fucking business." And he walks across the street when the light changes.

He finds a small bench by a boardwalk and sits on it. He watches the humans living their lives, not knowing that their end is near. Oblivious. He chuckles at their conversations, they care about the most useless things. Things that Harry wouldn't even dare to let occupy his memory.

Minutes soon turn into hours and Harry sighs as he leans back. This mission was more work than he thought. How does one find the weakness of an entire species? Just when he was about to leave the now almost empty boardwalk, he sees a short boy trip on one of the uneven panels. Harry finds joy in other people being hurt, no doubt, so he laughs. Louder than he thought, and the boy looks up at him.

His eyes are blue, a piercing blue with thick eyelashes framing his eyes and glasses on the tip of his nose. Harry could see the water pooling in his eyes and he wants to walk away. But, out of all the hundreds of people Harry has seen today, this stranger seems to be the prettiest. Harry doesn't like that he finds himself helping the boy pick up his books and pencils from the boardwalk. He doesn't speak when the boy is thanking him with an incredibly high and creamy voice.

With a huff, Harry bites his lip and wishes to reverse time so he had left earlier and not meet this stranger. The blue-eyed stranger. He hands the boy his books and looks down at his clothes. It's different if anything. A long brown fluffy cardigan covers his fairly small frame, a black denim skirt stretches around his curvy hips and a white turtle neck that goes up to the boy's bottom lip. Also, tiny boots on his feet with even smaller flowers covering them.

Harry has never liked boys in feminine clothing but he thinks he does now.

"I.. Um... I'm going to go now." The short boy says sheepishly looking down at his feet with his toes pointed inwards and brushes his fringe to cover his eyes. He seems nervous under Harry's stare.

"You smell like peppermint." Harry blurts out.

"Yeah.. Um, I work at a coffee shop and today was peppermint-Monday." He smiles quickly before pursing his lips while clutching his books closer to his chest.

"That sounds stupid."

This causes the boy's face to fall, "it was my idea." With a frown and sad eyes, the boy walks away and Harry sighs and drops his head.

Chapter Text

"You expect me to live here?"

"Oh, don't use that tone with me. It's one of the best apartments in the city."

"I have no money." Harry huffs, holding the small compact mirror closer to his face. "Well, I mean I stole from a couple mortals but that is it."

His father claps his hands. "That's my boy. Your mother would be proud of you." His face drops, but he puts a serious expression on again. "Check in the bottom drawer of the dresser in the master bedroom."

Harry follows orders and walks around the furnished apartment. It almost reminds him of home, everything is a dark shade of brown with red curtains. The living room having a strange flat object mounted to the wall, with a small fireplace beneath it. He hasn't seen the rest of the apartment but guesses it all has the same colour scheme. Once he enters the bedroom, he goes straight towards the dresser and places the small mirror on the top.

"There are credit cards and bills there." His father informs. "And identification cards, stupid humans have so many essentials."

"How did you know about these?" Harry asks, holding up the thick orange envelope.

"Research. Now, I am sending up two of my best men to assist you on your mission, son. They can only be up for a few hours at a time and it is in my favour that you will listen to them."

"Oh, so I need a babysitter?"

"Harry, they are only going up there to keep you on track. To make sure that all distractions are.. taken care of." His father explains, snapping his fingers and appears two men with a small cloud of smoke.

Harry has seen them before and mentally applauds his father's ways of making them look a bit normal.

"On you right is Zayn, I'm sure that you two are already great friends. Then there is Nickolas on your left."

"Zayn," Harry smiles and hugs the man. "Long time no see, eh?"

The man chuckles, "indeed. Your father said I only have one chance at being up here with you after what happened last time we were together."

"Harry, listen when I say that your time up there is only for one reason, correct?"


"So," the evil smile is on his face, "I hope you stay on task and don't fool around with Mr. Malik." He gestures to the tall brown haired man, "Nickolas will keep an eye on you two. We will talk again soon." Then the call is ended and Harry pockets the mirror.

"What do you say we go to the nearest bar? I heard mortals have different flavours of alcohol." Zayn smirks, slapping a hand on Harry's shoulder. "For old time's sake?"

"No," Nickolas speaks up. "We are here to keep an eye on him, not take him from his duties."

This makes Zayn roll his eyes. "Alright, Mr. Nickolas."

"Thank you." He nods. "Harry, have you studied the humans yet?"

"I've only been here for not even a day." He holds up the small journal that came with the envelope. "I haven't even begun writing yet."

"Right, well get to it." The tall man waves his hand and walks out the room.

"We'll go out drinking later." Zayn whispers and pats his back before following after the other.

Chapter Text

"I don't know, Lots." Louis says softly, staring at his reflection.

His older sister rolls her eyes, "you're sixteen, well it isn't that old but it's time for you to have some fun." She is sitting at her vanity, patting a glittery eye-shadow on. 

The small boy rolls on the heels of his feet, "what will mum say if she sees me walking out like this?" He points at his clothes. 

It isn't like anything he would ever consider wearing. He is one for large sweaters and pretty plaid skirts and mary-janes. Not tight leather pants that are suffocating him - Lottie was always smaller than him, a thinner waist while he has always had thick thighs and round hips, but Louis claims to love his body. Some days, he would wish to lose some weight but at the end of the day, he thinks he has nothing to be self conscious about and somehow, that doesn't help much.

The leather was constricting most of his movements, and also a little too tight around his bum. Lottie had shoved a very loose and colourful blouse in his hands and threatened that if he didn't wear it, she would tell their mother about the one time he stole money from her wallet for the ice cream truck two years ago. 

"Just wear a jacket over it," his sister stands and waves her hand. "Let me do your make-up."

And that was how Louis found himself sitting in Lottie's car with a thick coat and an even thicker coat of mascara on his eyelashes. He fearfully glances at the large house where blaring music and bright lights bloom from. 

"I'm not sure about this, Lots." He admits quietly, not bothering to unbuckle his seat belt. "Can't you take me home?"

His sister groans, "Lou, you'll be fine." She opens her side of the car, not before taking out Louis' seat belt. "It isn't like you're going to witness a murder or anything."

"A stupid party?" Nick raises his eyebrows. "Are you joking?"

Harry eyes the assortment of alcohol, "not at all." He stops by the door of the kitchen and crosses his arms. "If you would rather be elsewhere, by all means." He gestures down the street. "But, what would my father say about you ditching me in the middle of a.. intoxicated mortal gathering?"

"Just say party." The older man scoffs.

"Anyway, I think that there is no better way to study these beings than when they are under an influence." 

Zayn comes up, a drink already in his hand and swings an arm around Harry's shoulder. "I agree." He slurs.

"Take notes, Nick." Harry smirks, ripping a drink from someones hand and smelling it, he shrugs and chugs the whole cup. "Maybe you'll have some fun."

Louis was only meant to have one drink. It was to 'loosen him up'. And then he had another, and another, and much more. He isn't even sure what's in his cup this time but regardless he shouts along to the music and sways his hips. The living room is packed, everyone is practically on each other and if Louis were sober, he would be clawing his way out but drunk Louis is completely different. 

He is more confident if anything, as he screams along to the songs and grinds on whoever is behind him. He lost Lottie almost an hour ago, and couldn't even bother to look for her because of how ginormous the house was.

"How about we take this upstairs?" The handsome boy behind him asks over the music.

Louis blinks at him, not believing that he was just dancing with someone who looks like that. He takes another sip of his drink and nods, not a moment later, drunk Louis is being pulled to the stairs by a lean tanned man with dark brown eyes and plump pink lips.

At any other time, Louis would yank his hand from the man's hold and bolt for the door. But with the alcohol in his system, Louis felt ready to lose his virginity to someone he barely knows. 

Chapter Text

"Li.. Listen," Louis slurs, holding onto the boy's shoulder. "You have like.. Really nice eyes."

"You too," the stranger smirks, not as drunk as Louis and obviously finding humour in the young boy's intoxicated state. He brings Louis down the hall, all they way to the last one and puts his ear by the door. He bites his lip and scan's Louis' thick thighs once more, "it's empty."

As soon as the door is swung open, Louis blinks at the scene in front of him before he feels his head become lighter just as he falls into the stranger's arms. 

"What the hell are you doing?!" Zayn shouts, struggling to hold up the passed out boy and kicks the door shut with his foot. 

The taller man breathes out heavily, "fucker tried to rob me." Harry shoves the lifeless body off his shoe and looks down at his clothes.

"You're fucking covered in blood." Zayn hisses, dragging Louis' body to the bed and pushing the boy on it. He stands back up and rubs his forehead. "You made the guy faint."

Harry nods in thought, completely ignoring his friend's words. "I think I've come to the conclusion that mortals care a lot about money." He walks bends down the uses the dead man's shirt to wipe the blood off his boots. "Very materialistic." 

"I have to admit," the brown eyed man smiles down at the body. "You did a good job."

"Did I?" Harry sighs when he sees the blood seep into the carpet.

"Yeah, I didn't hear a thing." Zayn praises, "I think he learned his lesson."

"Too bad he's dead and can't share his experience with the rest of these stupid humans." The taller man shakes his head, "I fucked him and he tried to steal my wallet. At least I woke up before he could get away." 

The door swings open to reveal a flustered Nick, his hair is a mess and eyes rimmed red. "I looked everywhere for you two." He breathes out, frowning when he sees the body at Harry's feet. "I'm not even going to ask."

"What happened?"

"The next door neighbours called the police, they'll be here any minute."

"Fucking hell," Harry curses, he cracks his knuckles and works out the knots in his neck. "I will take care of them."

"No, you can't." Nick is blocking the door, "you have to understand that we are in the mortal realm, they can throw you in prison if they catch you."

"I would like to see them try." 

"Listen, if you go out there looking like that, they will not hesitate to tase you." 

Harry blinks, "then give me your clothes."

"No!" Nick crosses his arms, "we are going to sneak out the window and make a run for it."

"Are you forgetting about him?" Zayn says from the bed, sitting down next to the passed out boy.

"Just leave him there." Harry doesn't understand the problem but he knows that same face.

"In the room with a dead body, are you a monster?"

"Yes I am," The green eyed man frowns, "you know who my father is."

Nick runs a hand through his hair, "we cannot just leave him here." He crosses his arms, "he will get framed for your murder, Harry."


"If you are going to be living here, you need to act like a human." Nick even places a hand on Harry's shoulder to which the latter shrugs off. "You are too numb."

He isn't wrong, Harry is still wondering why the - now dead - boy came upstairs with him. He hadn't done much but nod along to his drunk blabbering, until he realized that this was probably the only lay he would get in a while.

"Then what do we do?"

Harry swallows when he hears sirens in the distance. "Zayn, wrap him in a bed sheet."

"Him?" Zayn asks, standing over the dead body with a thick sheet in his hands.

"No, the live one." He points to the drooling boy.


"Holy shit," Nick breathes out, "fucking heavy."

Harry scoffs, not struggling at all with the corner of his sheet. Louis' body is in a cocoon like roll, Harry and Nick on either side with Zayn between them. "You're just weak."

"Yeah you are," Zayn agrees, but almost slips while walking along the roof.

"Shut up." 

They shuffle across the roof, thankfully in the back of the house. The police arrived as soon as they were out the window and it look a few moments before they began walking towards the garage where it was closer to the ground.

"I do not understand why we cannot just teleport." Nick groans, placing Louis on the garage roof and cracking his back.

"Our powers are limited, jackass." Zayn rolls his eyes. "Harry on the other hand, could've teleported all of us into the apartment by now."

The man just shrugs, jumping down and holding out his arms. "Humans do not teleport. They use vehicles that pollute the atmosphere." He bends his knees, "and as someone said, I must act like a mortal. Now, toss the body."

"There is such like as a bicycle or roller-blades," Nick whispers, holding Louis' feet and swinging the limp body with Zayn. 

A moment later, Louis' body is being thrown off the garage roof and landing in Harry's arms. He's only left winded, and cringes at the pain in his chest. He unwraps the boy and shifts him so Louis is propped on one of his hips.

"Let's go," he nods, and they begin their way back to the apartment.

Chapter Text

The first thing Louis feels when he wakes up is something snipping at his finger. His eyes shoot open and he quickly sits up, with his heart beating out his chest.

He doesn't look around, he's too busy staring at the smallest snake curling at his hand - before biting his fingertip.

Louis lets out a screech, shuffling backward and squishing his body against the wall. The shiny silver animal slithers closet to him, hissing into the air and Louis lifts a foot and as he's about to slam it on the creature - he quickly shakes his head.

Tears are streaming down his face, "oh my, I'm so sorry, little guy." The small boy sits on his feet and reaches a hand out. "You're so tiny."

"Hades, come here."

Louis watches with wide eyes as the snake slithers towards the voice, disappearing into the darkness and abandoning him in the corner.

"Um, hello?" A light flickers on, blinding Louis momentarily and he squints his eyes. Once his eyes adjust to the brightness, he holds the side of his face. "I know you."

At a doorway, stands a tall broad shouldered man, he has the snake wiggling between is fingers and his cold gaze set on Louis.

"Peppermint-Monday boy."

A faint blush spreads over Louis' cheeks, as his eyes scan over Harry's body. "Y-Yeah, call me Louis."

"Louis," Harry repeats, kicking off the wall and begins walking towards the boy still on the floor. "Harry."

"Harry, why am I in your living room?" The blue-eyes boy tilts his head to the side, eyes unfocused and collarbones exposed.

The taller man sits on the couch, petting the head of his snake for a moment. "Police showed up at the party." Harry stays away from mentioning the cause for the boy's faint.

"Oh, oh my head kills." Louis holds his forehead, "why didn't you just leave me? I wasn't doing anything wrong."

"You do not know that, you passed out. I am positive you do not remember a single thing from last night."

"What was I doing before I passed out?"

Harry didn't like this boy's questioning.

Strange human boy. "You were about to have sex with my best friend."

Louis' eyes widen to saucers, and he surprises Harry when he completely breaks down into tears.

Harry doesn't know how to deal with fragile people. And this boy, was fairly sensitive right now. "Um," Harry stands and slowly begins walking out the room. "I.. Zayn!" And then he is running to the bedroom, and swinging the balcony door open.

His friend is sitting on the railing, smoking a cigarette and shoots him an odd look. "Hey."

Harry grabs Zayn's cigarette and tosses it off the railing. "Zayn, I do not know what to do. The boy is crying because I told him you two were about to fuck."

The other man hops off the metal bar and walks back into the bedroom. "Why do you care of this boy?"

"I do not, his tears are annoying." Harry bites his lip.

Eventually, Zayn is the one to calm Louis down. He gives the boy a bottle of water and talks about the previous night, taking his time. Different from Harry's tsunami.

This time, Louis leaves with a tiny smile, remembering why he had liked Zayn in the first place and is out the apartment by noon.

Harry watches them hug from the kitchen, a weird heat bubbling in his stomach. He doesn't like that feeling.

"Turns out Louis is a virgin." Zayn snaps him from his daydream. "And very innocent."

The green eyed man feels his snake come to life, sliding up his sleeve, up his arm and over his shoulder before curling around his neck. Harry likes innocence, and so does Hades.

Chapter Text

"Harry, what are you doing?"

The green eyed man looks away from his notepad. "Writing."

Zayn takes a pull from his cigarette, "Nick just left, said he will be back in a couple hours."

"Okay," Harry starts scribbling words again.

"Can you get down from there?"


"People are staring." Zayn nods to the small crowd of people that formed, directly under the balcony.

"And?" Harry only raises an eyebrow. "I could care less."

Zayn blows smoke in his friend's direction. "They will call the cops because they think you're going to jump."

"Jump?" Harry stops writing, "off here?"

"It's called suicide." The darker male glances at the people a few stories below. "When you kill yourself."

"Oh," Harry nods. "So I cannot sit on railings anymore? You did it."

"You cannot sit like that." He gestures to Harry's dangling feet. "And, I was not outside for hours."

"I am enjoying the blue sky before it turns grey and green with pollution."

"Whatever," Zayn holds his cigarette between his lips before reaching for the small notebook that is in Harry's hands. "Let me see what you wrote."

The taller man hands over his book and hops down from the railing, he shoots a glare at the staring people and resists gouging their eyes out. "Can I spit on them?"



"No," Zayn rolls his eyes, and leans on the wall by the dresser. "Mortals: over-dramatic, materialistic, egocentric, high maintenance, and sometimes sensitive."

"It is complicated studying such.. odd creatures."

"How so?" Zayn puts the cigarette out in the glass ashtray.

Harry turns away from the people and walks back inside, "they are all very different from each other. Contradicting my analysis. I'm not positive if my current data is even valid." He flops on the bed and traces the stitching on the bed sheets. "For example, I saw a man throw a fit because he got a flat tire and only one person offered help, while everyone else ignored him." He sits up and holds a pillow in his lap. "But now they care because I just sit on a railing?"

"That's because that man was overreacting, it was only a car and nothing is more valuable than a life."

"I also saw a homeless man sitting outside, he was thin and old. People only dropped a couple cents inside his paper cup." Harry rubs his temples, "my life is just as valuable as his, yet they leave him out there alone."

Zayn purses his lips, "people usually pretend not to acknowledge the homeless, it helps prevent the guilt of not helping them."

"Have they no mercy?" The green eyed man breathes out. "They are materialistic and selfish, yet they care for a stranger like me, and very little of a homeless man."

Zayn sighs, he places the book on the dresser and rubs his hands together. "I have to leave, but how about you study one person at a time."

"There are approximately 7.6 billion people in the world, Zayn." Harry says incredulously, "that would take me eternity."

"I mean, maybe-."

"I could just pick people at random."

"Or, you can get close with a few and take it from there."


Zayn claps his hands, "you do that, and I'll be back in a couple hours." Then a puff of black smoke is in his place by the dresser.


The boy whips around, clenching a rag to his chest. "Oh gosh, you scared me." He has blonde hair and blue eyes, and square glasses sitting on the tip of his nose. "Can I help you?"

"Yes, I was wondering what your thoughts on suicide are."

The boy's face twists in confusion and slight bewilderment. "I.."

"Niall! Order up." A voice calls.

"Sorry, I need to go." Then the boy is walking away and swinging the rag over his shoulder.

Harry huffs, and leaves the small restaurant. It has been a few hours and that was the fifty-something person he talked to. He walks along the somewhat busy street, passing businessmen and women, small children and even a few stray cats. Harry can hear their thoughts if he tried hard enough, but all their heartbeats pound in his ears. The tall man stops walking abruptly causing a person behind him to huff and curse behind him, "fucking stupid idiot, move it."

Harry frowns and leans against a glass window with televisions behind it. He watches the man check his watch before resuming to shoving through a group of people, Harry catches sight of the foam coffee cup in his hand and bites his lip.

"Research." He says to himself as he makes the man's arm crash into his own white button up and grey blazer.

The stranger spills his hot coffee all over his front, and swears loudly while going to stand by the same wall as Harry. The business man pats his pockets, searching for something.

Harry opens his notebook and takes the pen from his pocket, he writes:

Mortals: frustrated easily, takes small unfortunate events and-

"Hey, do you happen to have some napkins?" It's the business man, shoulders squared and eyes looking hopeful.

This is all confusing to Harry. The same person who called him an idiot is now asking for help? What ever happened to karma? Harry didn't understand, he could either hold a grudge against a complete stranger, who could be having a bad day, or he could be what humans consider to be 'the bigger person' and hand this man a napkin.

These are times where Harry wishes he had the power to see all outcomes of situations, it would make all this research faster.

"Do you speak English?" The man raises an eyebrow, holding his briefcase tightly in one hand.

Harry could be bad, or he could be good. Dilemmas.

He chooses the latter.

"Um, I do have napkins, yes." Harry reaches into his jacket pocket and takes out a small zip-lock of napkins.

"Oh, thank you." The stranger picks out a few napkins and pats over his shirt, before checking his watch again. "Shit, I'm going to be late for work."

Harry tilts his head and observes the man, his hair is short and gelled upward in the front. He has glasses with a thin black frame, and a short beard. He isn't as tall as Harry, but close enough, his shoulders are broader than Harry's though.

"If I'm late one more time, Jameson is going to kill me." The man continues to desperately pat over his chest, "and the stupid transit takes forever."

An idea appears in Harry's head, and his mouth says the words before he can properly see the different results. "I can drive you to work."

The man's eyes widen, and his mouth drops open the slightest. "Would you?"

Harry nods, clenching his notebook tight in his hand. "Yes, I just said I can."

Then the man is wrapping his arms around Harry's neck and it's the strangest hug on the planet. He pulls away awkwardly and shifts on his feet. "I would really appreciate it."

That was how Harry finds himself in his car, taking the directions given to him from the man whose name is Liam. He listens carefully to Liam's words as the man uses a bottle of water and the rest of Harry's napkins to clean his coffee stain.

"Thank you so much for doing this, even though it is a bit reckless of me to take a ride from a stranger." Liam nods to himself, "especially after that murder from a couple days ago. Police just found a dead body after busting a house party. Just horrible." He frowns.

Harry stiffens, even with a hint of satisfaction bubbling in his stomach.

Liam glances out the window before returning his eyes to Harry. "I just got this job a couple weeks ago, if I'm late one more time I'll be fired and I can't lose this job too since I just broke up with Travis, he was my fiancé." Liam gulps, "I shouldn't have told you that. Sorry."

Harry pulls into the parking lot of the large glass building, "it's alright. I do not mind."

Liam lets out a breath of relief. "Sorry, the world is just a very judgmental place. You know?"

"I do."

"I mean, I know that people have become more accepting to different sexual orientations but there will always be those odd ones out who just hate people like me."

Harry puts his car into park by the entrance and faces Liam, "I understand, your world is strange."

"My world?" Liam laughs, and unbuckles his seat belt. "You're here too.."

"Harry. My name is Harry."

Liam smiles, and opens the car door. "Thank you again, Harry." He takes hands over a napkin, "this is my number. If you ever need anything, because you really saved my ass today."

Harry takes his notebook and places the napkin between two pages before writing:

Mortals:  (observed businessman named Liam)
- pity for those who have died
- take out emotions on others not involved (unfair?)
- somewhat astonished by offered help
- believe in returning   favours

Conclusion : good actions = more research

Chapter Text

"Okay, what does this do?"

"You just took a picture."

"What about this?"

"You just deleted an app."

"How about this?"

Zayn sighs, pulling the cellphone from his friend's hands. "Harry, I can't sit here all day and teach you how to use a phone."

"But, Zayn, it is was the humans have." Harry tugs back the device. "And when you have something in common with someone, it becomes more likely to get something from them." He says. "It's like comfort in resemblance, familiarity. Like empathy." The man's eyes are glued on the screen, swiping and tapping. He is completely confused. "Where do you need to go anyway?"

Zayn thinks for a moment before breathing out, defeated. "Nowhere actually. Now pass it back, I'll teach you how to use Skype."



"Zayn, this is fantastic!" Harry exclaims, "I can talk with anyone in the world."

"I don't know why he's so excited, he can literally teleport." Nick mumbles and crosses his arms over his chest.

"Yes, Harry." Zayn nods, "now, you said you needed to call someone?"

"Liam.. he did not give me his last name."

"Here, I'll call him for you." Zayn holds out his hand, and takes the small napkin from the counter.

Harry stands abruptly, almost knocking his chair over. "No, I know how to do it."

With a somewhat unsure expression on his face, Zayn hands Harry the paper. He watches the taller boy tap on his screen before he frowns and slouches his shoulders. "What did you do?"

"I think I.." Harry's voice trails off. "I don't know."

"Are you kidding me?" Nick pushes himself off the counter. "This guy can strangle someone to death and act like nothing happened, yet he doesn't know how to work a phone?"

"If you're so pissed, go for a walk." Harry frowns, and hands the phone over to Zayn.

Nicholas sighs, "I just want you to know that sometimes, being clueless can be mistaken for being innocent."

"I am anything but innocent." 

"See? You can't act like that in public, people are going to get the wrong idea and walk all over you."

Harry sits in one of the chairs and rubs his eyes. He understood what Nick was hinting at; humans took advantage of the lesser. 

It was natural, he sees it in the animal kingdom with the food chains. The animals who are stronger and more intellectual are the top predators, and obviously the smaller ones are at the bottom. 

Though, without the animals at the bottom of the chain — the entire food chain would not exist. 

But of course, food chains are natural. 

"I understand." Harry nods once. "Feeding off the lesser is natural, it's based off survival and possibly selfishness."

"Um, okay."

"Humans need to feel superior, it gives them pride and makes them feel like they are doing good. Similar to the simplicity of the animal food chain." Harry reaches out for his notebook and opens it before beginning to write his thoughts. "It's for survival, therefore somewhat natural." He pauses writing and sits up straight. "But, can something natural be evil?"

Harry doesn't give Zayn or Nick a second to reply. "If natural is only good, then is it still good when someone suffers?"

Chapter Text

"I'm so glad that you could make it."

Harry shrugs, taking off his coat and sitting opposite of the other man. "Glad? It is not like I'm popular."

"You have no job, or no friends?" Liam asks bluntly, taking a menu and flipping it open. "No girlfriend or boyfriend?"

"I'm as free as a bird and I don't think I've ever been on a date but, I have two friends." Harry states. "Three if you count my father."

Liam laughs, "guess you can consider this a date, huh?"

Harry purses his lips, and shrugs. He definitely didn't like Liam more than a friend.

"I don't think I should date for a while though." Liam says with his eyes glued on the menu. "Just got out of an engagement."

"I did not consider this to be a date."

"Right, just two friends getting some lunch."


It's quiet for a few moments before Liam clears his throat and says, "your dad must be making a lot of money considering you're dressed head to toe in YSL."

"You could say that."

"What does he do?"

Harry thinks for a second. "He takes care of people's wrongs."

Liam slowly looks up from his menu, before leaning across the table and whispering, "is your dad in the mafia?"

"What?" Harry frowns, "what's the mafia?"

"You don't know what the mafia is?" Liam asks incredulously. With a hushed voice, Liam begins to tell Harry what exactly a mafia is, as the green eyed man listens closely with interest clear on his face.

Then the diner door swings open, "Niall, I can't stay for long." Louis walks up to the cashier and tugs on his large puffy coat.

"Wait, just give me a moment." Niall finishes wiping down the counter and looks up, only to see Louis frozen with his eyes wide. "What?"

The younger boy fish-mouths, and blinks rapidly. "I-I.. That's the guy."

"What guy?"

Louis nods his head towards the table by the window, "that's the guy with the tiny snake."

Niall raises an eyebrow, "okay?"

"Don't give me that look. It isn't everyday I see a small snake nibbling at my finger." Louis huffs and waves out a hand.

"He's the one who asked me about suicide." Niall mutters quietly. He leans over the counter and whispers, "he's a weird guy. Stay away from him."

"You don't have to warn me about that." Louis frowns.

His blonde friend hums and opens the cash register. "Really? The weird ones are always a magnet for you. Don't think I forgot about Jameson." Niall purses his lips and started counting the bills.

Louis' frown deepened. He didn't want to remember anything that happened with Jameson, and as hard as it was to admit, Louis was helplessly intrigued by 'weird' guys. But he refused to give Niall the satisfaction and set his mind on the fact that he only went for normal, cute men. He was simply in denial.

"Whatever." Louis turns around and makes fast steps towards the door, with his eyes still on his friend. "I'll see you at school tomorro-"

"Shit!" Harry gasps and jumps back but it's already too late. There's boiling hot coffee all over his shirt and thighs, and a broken mug on the ground by their feet.

"Oh, my God!" Louis slaps a hand over his mouth. "I'm so sorry!"

Harry pinches his soaked shirt between his fingers, moving it away from his skin. "Fuck, it's hot."

"Harry, I'm so sorry."

That was when Harry looked up, and immediately recognized the same boy from the party and the morning in his apartment. His blue eyes swimming with worry and with his glasses sitting on the tip of his nose. His hair was held back by a bright yellow hat, tucked behind his ears and a red wool scarf draped over his shoulders.

"You're so small."

"What?" Louis whipped around and rips a bunch of napkins from the dispenser. "I'm so sorry."

Harry flinches when Louis pats over his chest and abdomen with napkins. "I said you're small."

Louis' frown flatters the slightest as a hint of a smile makes its way onto his face. "Thanks?"

"You're welcome, Louis." 

Chapter Text

"That was weird." Liam says just as Harry sits down again. "You know that guy?"


"I have met him a few times, yes." Harry can feel himself getting bored. 


They finish up their lunch, light conversation flowing between them. After they're done, Harry could almost see Liam as a friend — so he agrees to meet up again sometime. It's getting dark outside and Harry begins his journey back home, he passes by small shops and parks. He observes the people outside, some with children and others with their dogs, some alone and others not. 


He enters his apartment and is immediately bombarded with Zayn.


"Don't take off your shoes!" 


Harry freezes, "why?"


"We're going out," Zayn ushers Harry out the door again, Nickolas following too. "To a club. Not some idiot's party."


"What is up with you and always wanting to go out?" Harry asks, as Zayn locks their door. 


"What can I say, I'm a people person."


They take a taxi to the club Zayn wanted to go to, how he found out about it was a mystery but they didn't spend any time waiting in line — because with one look into Harry's eyes, the bouncer lifted the velvet rope and let them through. 


The music was loud, and people were more like one, all moving on the dance floor to the heavy bass blasting through the speakers. 


Zayn was the one to lead them to a table, it was a booth in the corner with a dim light hanging above. Nickolas and Harry sat down, Zayn leaving to get drinks leaving the two to stare at each other over the table. 


"You two stay here, I'm going to get some drinks." Zayn slaps his hand on the table once before walking off, disappearing into the crowd of dancing bodies. 


"So," Nickolas starts, "how was lunch with that Liam guy?"


Harry shrugs. "It was alright, he's tolerable."


"Ah, he piss you off?"


The green eyed man shakes his head, for a moment he and going to tell Nickolas about his encounter with Louis but goes against it. "He's good company." 


Nickolas turns his attention to the massive crowd, the lights of the club are bright and colourful, flashing to the beat of the blaring music. 


It isn't long until Zayn returns with their drinks. It's about an hour later and Nickolas goes into the crowd and doesn't resurface, leaving Zayn leaning on Harry for support. The brown eyed man talks endlessly about his day, nothing interesting happened so Harry doesn't quite understand why he has so much to say. 


The lights were starting to bother his eyes, and the humidity was getting to his head so Harry excuses himself. He sits Zayn upright in the booth, before walking out the backdoor of the club. 


The music cuts off as he exits and the cool air of the city welcomes him. He walks down the street for less than a minute, only passing by a few drunk people and a horde of women who were celebrating a bachelorette party. 


"Hey, sexy!" One of the screams, obviously too intoxicated to walk by herself which was why she was hanging off the arm of her equally drunk friend. "You should come party with us!" 


Harry ignores them, he continues walking until he feels a hand grab onto the back of his jacket. Looking down, he sees the long nails of the same woman who called at him earlier. 


Closer, she was actually not that bad looking. Her make up was more than a little smudges around her eyes and mouth, her hair half out her pony tail but she had warm brown eyes and a tiny nose with high cheekbones. 


"Don't ignore me, mister." She slurs, her grip tightening on Harry's coat. "C'mon, have some fun—"


"No." Harry pushes off her hand.


His facial expression must have turned into something different, more threatening because the woman snaps out of her drunken state for a moment to let go of his jacket and walk back to her friends. Harry stares at them as they get further away, only earning one glance from the same woman before they turn a corner and disappear from his view. 


He walks a few more steps before he hears a whimper, loud and clear in the seemingly empty street. There was a sound of a crash and hushed talking as Harry stepped toward a nearby alley way. 


Harry stands at the end of the alley, his boots clicking to a stop as he takes in the image before him. 


"Fuck off, man. I know I got myself a looker but I'd rather not share." The speaker was an older man, he had a greying beard and a hat over his hair, and loose clothing hung over his body. "Hey, I said fuck off." He spits, his broad frame effectively hiding his victim from Harry's eyes. 


Harry didn't care about humans, much rather have them hurt each other than make him do extra work so he turns back around and goes to continue his walk but a familiar voice startles him — unlike many things. 


"Get off me." Their voice was small, and obvious nervousness was audible. 


"Honey, you're going to like this." The gruff man's voice comes. 


Harry blinks once before facing the alleyway again his feet much faster as they carry him to the victim's aid. 


The older man looks over his shoulder, his lips curled in a snarl. "Fucking creep, get out of here before I kick your teeth in." Then he faces his victim again. 


Lifting his hand and bracing it on the man's shoulder, Harry swings his fist up and slamming it into the right side of the man's face. The man groans, stumbling backward and holding a hand to his cheek. 


"Your rings fucking cut me—" His words cut off from Harry shoving him into a wall, his head smashing against the brick. 


The scene was straight out a movie, Harry punching the man until he fell to the ground before kicking him ruthlessly. After a particularly harsh stomp from Harry's boot, the man stops whimpering and his body freezes, then his arms go limp on the ground. 


Turning to the witness, Harry wipes his hands on his pants. "What are you doing out here?" 


The small boy shivers, pulling his jacket closer to himself. "I—you killed a guy."


Harry stays where he is, his feet planted to the cement floor. "He was going to hurt you." 


Harry's father would be disappointed if he were hearing of his son helping a mortal — a small, pretty, delicate mortal. 


"You didn't have to kill him!" Louis was hysteric. 


"And you care about him even though he was forcing himself on you?" 


Louis was breathing heavily, his blue eyes frantic. "His body, what do we do? I can't go to jail, I'm sixteen." 


Harry cleared his throat, looking over the limp man on the ground. "I will take care of it."


The smaller boy looks up, fear evident on his face. "Harry, have you.. done this before?"


Moments pass, only the sounds of cars in the distance and the faint music from the club a few doors down. As every second passes, Louis feels his heart beat speed up — Harry can hear it. The sixteen year old's chest rises and falls, his eyes watering as he steps further and further away from Harry as he begins to understand the man's silence. 


It isn't until Louis is backed up against the brick wall, his arms wrapped right around his body when he finally finds his voice. 


"G—Get away from me." Louis' voice cracks. 


Harry doesn't move, not one inch, as his dark green eyes are locked on Louis' frightened blues. 




The smaller boy presses himself closer to the wall. "No."


Harry holds out his hand, keeping his distance. "Come here."


Louis rapidly shakes his head, tears streaming down his face. "No!"


"Louis, I said to come here."


Against the fear he now holds towards Harry, Louis' feet have a mind of their own as they bring him closer and closer to a murder. Louis holds his sore wrists from the older man's tight grip and he feels dirty and violated, he goes to grab his phone by the lifeless man's leg but Harry speaks again. 


"Keep your hands by your sides."


Louis has no control over his body, every part of him screaming to run out the alley way and do anything to get away from the man in front of him. 


Once Louis stands before Harry, still crying and visibly shaking. He leans back when Harry's hand cups his chin. 


"Don't be afraid of me." 


The tears stop, his breaths slow down and his hands stop shaking. 


"There we go." Harry looks down at him, his hot hand burns into the cold skin of Louis' cheek. "You will not tell anyone of what happened tonight. You will go home, and pretend nothing happened." 





Louis wakes up in a cold sweat. His hands are clenching his bedsheets and his hair sticking to the skin of his forehead. He frantically looks around his room, he swears he sees two glowing eyes in the abyss of his closet and reaches over to switch on his lamp. Shooting his head back to his closet — it's empty. Nothing but his clothes, a shoe rack and a few boxes. 


Visions of green eyes, and red lips twisted into a smirk come rushing back. Every fibre in his body calm about the nightmare he just had — and the worst part was that he wasn't scared of seeing Harry ending peoples lives. He couldn't be scared of the man no matter how much he wants to be.  


And it's terrifying to face your fears — but it's horrifying to not have any at all. Especially, when it's a murderer who killed for you.

Chapter Text

The next time Louis sees Harry is a few days later. The tenseness in his bones appears as soon as he lays his eyes on the man's emotionless face. 


"It's that guy again."


Louis observes the way people part around Harry. As if they all sense something particularly odd about him, which he can't help but agree with. "I know."


"Would you stop staring at him?" Niall pushes Louis' shoulder. "God, doesn't he creep you out?" 


The blue-eyed boy gulps. He wishes he could tell Niall the truth. That he could scream out what Harry did but it was like the latter put a spell on him. He was under Harry's complete control. "Listen, I'll meet you in class, okay? I have to go to the guidance office."


Niall buys the lie, and his bright smile only makes Louis feel angry with himself. "All right, don't take too long." He pats Louis' shoulder before turning around and walking towards the crowded front doors of the school. 


Louis stares at Niall's retreating figure as he disappears into the group of students.


"Did not expect you to lie so.. swiftly." A deep voice mutters by his ear. "I know you will not scream, you will not fight, because you do not fear me." 


Louis turns around, a glare set on those dark green eyes. "Only because you made me." He still has dreams about that night in the alley, but there was nothing he could do about it.


"Do not give me attitude, you know what I'm capable of." Harry tilts his head the slightest, glancing down at Louis' neck, the tan skin unmarked and clear. 


"Is that a threat?" Louis shoots back, clenching his teeth.


Harry remains unfazed by Louis' reply. He simply steps back and holds out a hand, the rings shining in the morning sunlight. "Take a walk with me." 


The blue-eyed boy scoffs.


"The confidence in you stems from not fearing me." Harry speaks, his pink lips forming the words slowly. He drops his hand by his side and leans down, his mouth by Louis' ear. "Fascinating little human you are."


Louis hated how Harry talked. He spoke like he was from a different world, a different era. He hated Harry.


"The feelings are not mutual." Harry smirks when he hears Louis thoughts. The taller of the two finally steps away from Louis and holds open his hand again, a raise in his brows as he asks again. "Come and take a walk with me." His fingers twitch when Louis makes no moves. "Come with me voluntarily, or I'll make you."


“Is it still voluntarily when you threaten me?” Louis had no choice because even if he did say no, Harry would just stare into his eyes and demand he follow him. It was a lose-lose situation.


Harry takes Louis' hand and immediately begins pulling the boy further from the school. The sunshine blocked by a large dark cloud, bringing a cold wind along. The walk together on the sidewalk, passing a few little houses before coming up on a little park.


"Could you stop looking at me?" Louis mutters, he's felt Harry's burning stare for the majority of their walk.




Louis frowns, looking down at his feet. "Because it makes me uncomfortable."


"You're uncomfortable when I examine you?"


"Well, when you use the word examine, yeah I am. I'm not some sort of mythical creature that's about to go extinct." The blue-eyed boy mutters the last bit.


Harry stiffens beside Louis, clenching his jaw and then clears his throat.


"How old are you?" Louis seems oblivious to Harry going on-edge. "You look older than me." He gestures to Harry's tall frame in long black trench coat and black button up. "And your boots are shined, who even shines their boots."


"I am twenty-two."


"Oh." Louis blinks, and the clouds rumble above him making the boy jump. "I'm sixteen."


Harry nods once, observing the incredibly small boy beside him for a second. "You have the rest of your life to do something, anything." He licks his lips. "What are you thinking of doing?"


The blue-eyed teen smiles softly. "I think I want to create something. Just one little thing." Louis brushes his hair from his eyes. "I know plenty of other people who would want the world in their palm."


Harry looks up at the cloudy sky, the large grey puffs covering the sun. A gust of wind pushes his coat open, and blows his hair off his forehead. "I do not understand that."




"People want the something as big world in their hand, but they do not like responsibility. It is not a good case for them. It is like they want power but they do not know the weight of that power, and they cannot hold it.” Harry says after a few moments. "It seems a bit hypocritical." The man's pink lips formed the words so slowly. "Why are you looking at me like that?”


Louis quickly averts his gaze to the concrete ground again, tugging his long cardigan tighter around his body. "Why do you speak like that?" He inquires. "Like you're from a different universe."


Harry immediately shut his mouth.


"Why does it matter how I speak?"




"Do you think I am weird?"


Louis shook his head, but Harry knew that in the boy's head, there was nothing but chanting of the word yes.


Harry didn't like the pang in his chest, or the confusion clouding his thoughts. It brought this strange unpleasant weight, and he was almost embarrassed. So he looks to his left before stepping off the sidewalk and onto the street.


"Harry!" Louis shouts at the man, utterly shocked at his actions. “You can't make me walk with you then leave like a stubborn kid!"


Harry glances over his shoulder, already halfway across the street. "I did not make you do anything."


Louis lets out a frustrated noise when Harry makes it to the other side of the street. He follows after the man. "Bullshit! You're so.. I can't even explain it, Harry!"


Harry rolls his eyes, continuing walking down the sidewalk but speeding up his steps. 


"You expect me to bow down to you yet—"


A loud blaring car horn and then a loud crash, followed by screams pulls Harry to look behind him. A wave of instant regret hits him like a hurricane. His body not used to feeling such, and his first instinct is to leave the scene and hide in the dark, alone.


A sixteen year old body laid on the road. Bruised and battered, rolled onto his side as his blood stained cheeks and swollen eyes faced Harry directly. The driver of the red vehicle jumps out, they're screaming and crying. People are taking pictures and videos with their phones, people are crowding as only a select few step in to help. Humanity had horrible characteristics.


Harry was gone by the time the ambulances arrived, he left after he watched the paramedic's lips. "I have a pulse!"


The paramedic's tone was different than his thoughts. It was barely there. 



And for the first time in his life, Harry felt guilty.








It was two days later. It took forty-eight hours for Harry to make a decision. It would ruin his reputation, and certainly damage his relationship with his father. Though he was willing to risk everything to get rid of the sinking feeling in his stomach. It's been sitting there, making him feel guilty and heavy. 


His journal had a few more notes.


— humans choose stand on sidelines (bystanders). Some do not take things seriously


— distracted easily


  Observation of Louis:


— does not like to be stared at


— fascinating, finds me weird


— in a coma








The intensive care unit is where he was. Harry stood by the door, that was sealed shut unless unlocked by the woman in the next room. He waited, for almost an hour until a woman came out. She had long brown hair, tied in a messy bun and red eyes. 


"You going in?"


Harry stands up straight. "Yes." He knew it was her. The structure of her face, the roundness of her nose and eyes. There was no doubt.


"Here." She held the door open wider. "I know that woman can be a stick in the mud. She doesn't understand that we need to see whoever is in there for as long as we want. We need to see our grandparents, aunts, uncles," she pauses, her eyes once again watering. "Our sons."








Louis had tubes going up his nose and his mouth. His eyelids almost painted a deep purple and completely swollen shut. A small section of the top of his head was shaved, replaced by stitches and a large white bandage. His legs had clean white tights but a hospital gown draped over his bare body, covering the rest of the ugly scabs.


By his head was a small crucifix, attached by a baby pin onto the fabric of the white pillow case. That didn't make him angry, if anything the way Louis' chest moved did.


Harry clenches his jaw tightly, eyes trained on animated rise and fall of Louis' chest. The machine pumping quietly by the boy’s head and causing his breathing to come out in puffs that were too consistent, they were fake after all. The beeping of the heart monitor was loud and clear, in time and not a second late.








The buzzers of every nurse and doctor emit three beeps, as a loud blaring sounded through the ICU. All nurses and doctors 


"Patients in beds 30, 31, 32, 33, 34, 35, 36, 37, 38, 39, and 40 are flat-lining. I repeat, all patients in beds 30—40 are flat-lining. All nurses and doctors please report to ICU—Southside."


Harry hears the rushes of footsteps and panicked voices, as the last nurse left, Harry did something that was once what he frowned upon.








Blue met green in a close proximity. Louis' eyes were in slits, the smallest amount of his iris standing out. He choked on the tubes in his mouth and squinted from the bright lights. He tried to pull the tubes and IVs from himself.


"Shh," Harry leans closer, trying his best to calm Louis down. "Sleep. There are no nurses here now and you need to relax."


Louis felt his muscles loosen and his arms get heavy as they dropped at his side. And warmth covered over his flimsy hospital gown, it was Harry's coat.


"I am not forcing you to do anything from now on, but please, sleep." Harry didn't get anything but a confused look in reply. "Just, close your eyes." He hesitantly reaches out to move Louis' hair from his eyes.


Louis didn't listen, he continued to stare at Harry in utter shock, the tears pooling in his eyes. And he watched the man leave, just when nurses arrived and it was their turn to be surprised because the boy they just named as brain dead, was awake. And he was crying.


The little speckle of warmth in Harry heart came from the last statement he heard from a bewildered doctor a few hours later. "It's a miracle. The bleeding in his brain has stopped, his knees are no longer fractured and his arm has healed effortlessly."








That warmth was gone by the moment Harry walked into the apartment.


"You take life, you don't give it!" Nickolas was furious, his face red and eyes bulging. "I can't believe you right now!" Zayn was nowhere to be seen. 


Harry ignores Nickolas and simply takes off his shoes and walks down the hall to his room. It was dark, and as he switches on the light, he jumps.


"Harry tries to control his breathing, his own father standing in the reflection of the balcony door. "Father."


The man tilts his head, his red cloak snug around his shoulders. "Nickolas told me something rather shocking that you have done."


Harry clenches his fists. "Father, I witnessed a boy get hit by a car two days ago." Harry says, noting as his father sighs. "It was completely sudden and—"


"Are you saying what I think you are?"


Harry straighten his back. "Depends." He was going to say how he felt, how he was filled with disgust for himself.


"If you are going to say something along the lines of.." he puases, "sitting back. Letting the humans kill themselves to the brink of extinction, then I would I agree."


Harry blinks, a part of him expected his father to not care of his feelings. After all, these were all new to Harry but he had no one to talk to about them. It was like going to a new world, but in this world, he wasn't the cold hearted, rage-driven, emotionless son of Lucifer — he was just a man.


"Though, I agree with your idea, son. Just find a way for them to go faster, hm?" His father smirks, it's sickening and evil. "And make them suffer."


Harry felt more like an employee rather than his father's son. But he only bit his tongue and nods. "Yes, father."

Chapter Text

Days pass, and soon turn into weeks. Louis' life has been different ever since the accident. Sure, his body was healed, miraculously that is, but his mind was far from it. Ever since he returned to school, students have been treating him like glass. They made paths for him in the hallways, held doors open for him, a few even offered to open his locker for him. He hated the attention. He hated the stares he received as he walked down the halls in between classes. He wasn't allowed to walk to and from school. His mother even changed her hours at work so she was able to drop him off and pick him up on her break.

He even went to therapy.

It was three times a week, one on Tuesday, on Thursday and one on Sunday.

He thankfully wasn't diagnosed with PTSD. His therapist described it as one of the most mild cases he's seen — if you could even call it one.

Louis' heard of people who couldn't leave their homes, in fear of being hit again, or they couldn't go near a car that looked similar to one that hit them. 

"You want to play, Little Blue. I will play with you." Harry says. He leans down, his lips brushing against Louis' cheek before licking a swipe of the boy's cheek. "Tag," he pulls away, "You are it."

"Are you going to kill me?"

The squawk of a crow sounds through the silent forest. And Harry plasters a smirk on his face. "If you give me a reason to, I will not hold back."

Louis awoke in a cold sweat. His lungs burning from the cold air, his eyes snap open and the first thing he sees is his mother. She's standing above his bed, with a worried expression on her face.

"Darling, are you all right?"

It's was almost too real, Harry's green eyes and his pink lips quirked in a smirk. Everything was almost too real. And he hated it.


Louis flinches away from his mother's hand, quickly apologizing. "Sorry." He says sheepishly. "I'm fine."

"You're lying straight through your teeth." She shakes her head with a sigh. Then eyes him. "I'll let you off the hook because there's a boy here to see you."

Louis groans, turning over and burying himself deeper in his bedsheets. "Tell Zayn I'll call him later."

His mother clears her throat. "It isn't Zayn." She reveals. "His name is Harry."

"Oh, hello." The woman's eyes observed the man at her door. "May I help you?"

Harry stood straight, holding the bouquet of blue flowers tightly. "I am Harry. I go to school with Louis and I was just wondering how he is doing."

"You look a little bit on the older side." She looked skeptical.

Harry brushes off her suspicion and smiles, his dimples on display. "I was held back a year

The woman reluctantly lets him in, eyeing the small bouquet in his hands. "Are those for Louis?"

"Yes, but I would rather show them to him before they go into a vase. If you don't mind." Harry takes off his shoes at the door with minimal effort. "These are his favourites."

"I didn't know Louis had a favourite flower." The woman whispers.

It was true, Louis didn't currently have a favourite flower. But that didn't mean he couldn't have one — and Harry was hoping the blue ones in his hands would be the boy's favourite.

"I'll check if my son is awake, in the mean time would you like some tea?" The woman walks through a doorway, leaving Harry to follow.

"Yes, please."

She makes the tea, asking Harry if he wants any sugar or milk to which he declines. As she sets down his mug of the steaming liquid, she announces that she'll check on Louis.

It might have been a mistake to leave the man alone in her house, but she didn't know that.

The walls were a light purple. Contrasting with the yellow striped curtains and black dresser and desk. There were small picture frames on the walls and on the dressers. A short bookcase in the very corner of the room with a few books, with more bottles of water if anything.

"Harry." Louis refuses to let the man's chilling aura get to him. "What do you want?"

"Is it a crime to see my friend?" The man grins.

"Since when are we friends?"

Harry's smile flatters. "I brought these for you." He holds out the small bouquet.

The petals were tiny. They were little shapes on a tall stem, and Harry held a couple stems in his hand. Green leaves surrounding the flowers, and Louis couldn't stop his heart from warming.

Ironic. Harry, warming Louis' heart. A cold, soulless man, warming Louis' heart.

"Thanks." Louis' voice is quiet. He hesitatingly takes the bouquet from the older man's hands.

He hates how nice they smell. He's observing the tiny blue petals when he decides to speak again. "I still have your coat."

"Keep it."

Louis shrugged. "What if I don't want it?"

"Then, I will take it back." Harry tilted his head. "Do you not want it?"

Maybe Louis did. It was warm and smelt like Harry. "I.. No one knows what happened to the driver." He blurts out. The silence on Harry's end had Louis slowly looking up from the flowers. "Harry."

"Yes?" The man remained emotionless, as always.

"Did you.. do something to the person who hit me?"

It was quiet for a short moment. "What if I did?"

"Harry, it was an accident."

"No. There are no such things as accidents. The word itself was made to make humans feel less guilty for something they did — it is either you did it, or you did not."

"Accidents are unintentional." Louis mutters. "If it's anyone's fault, it's yours."

That has Harry furrowing his brows and frowning. "Explain."

"You made me follow you." Louis watches Harry look away. "You walked off and left me on the sidewalk."

"You may believe what you want, but I will tell you one thing, Louis." Harry's gaze hardened. "You should be thankful of my actions because without them, you would not be here right now."

Louis perks up, his blue eyes widening. "What do you mean?"

Harry tilts his head, standing from Louis' bed and walking over to his dresser. He picks up a picture frame that holds a small photograph of a tiny young Louis, wearing blue overalls and a yellow shirt, the grin on his face is adorable.

"Your chances of surviving were as thin as air. Your body was beaten beyond what medicine can heal and you were on your death bed." Harry lightly touches the photograph, he could almost see the toddler version of the teenage boy behind him, giggling and energetic. "The doctors, your friends and more so your mother were certain you wouldn't survive." Harry sets down the frame and reaches into the pocket of his jacket, taking out something before tossing them on Louis' bed.

Louis is frozen as he looks at the papers by his thighs. They were brochures, at least five of them. And they were all for funeral homes.

"Personally, I do not believe it was my fault. If anything, I would say you owe me your life since I did save it after all." Harry speaks lowly. "Did your mother ever tell you what happened in the ICU before you woke up?"

Louis drops the brochures like they burned him, and quickly meets Harry's eyes. He shakes his head.

"I suggest you search it up for yourself." Harry blinks. "Think of me as your angel, sent to protect you." Harry smirks. "Maybe think of me as your demon, who brings out the worst in you. Maybe do not think of me at all, just know that you will wish for my presence to be next to you for the rest of your life." He's by Louis' door and turns back for one moment. "Look up the meaning of those flowers as well. They're blue salvias."

Louis stared blankly at his laptop screen. His brain already throbbing with the news of ten people dead at the same hospital as him, all their deaths recorded just minutes before his.

The bouquet of blue flowers by his leg. And their meaning made his heart race.

'Blue Salvia... "I think of you."'