From the car, Aric could see it clearly now. On the left side of Zayn's face, just an inch above his eye, was a raised scar — a reminder of some old wound. The cut ran across his cheek, curving just beneath his eye, finishing just below his jawline. Another mark, higher on his lip, about two inches above his lower lip, ran down through his bottom lip, ending an inch beneath it.
These were not just any cuts. They were deliberate. Made by a blade, expertly done, likely by someone who knew how to inflict such pain without trembling. Whoever had done this was a professional, someone whose hands didn't shake even when leaving such permanent marks on someone's face.
The cuts were clear, evident on Zayn's face. His skin, otherwise flawless and soft, bore these jagged reminders of violence. Though his face exuded innocence and beauty, these scars were a stark contrast — perhaps no longer what the world saw as attractive, perhaps no longer what the world deemed beautiful. Yet in Aric's eyes, Zayn was perfect.
His face, soft and youthful, still carried an undeniable purity — a simplicity that made it even more appealing. Aric had never before thought of anyone in such a way, but the moment he saw Zayn, it was as if everything in him shifted. He found himself lost in Zayn's face, his eyes, his soul. He couldn't help but see beyond the physical scars to the heart hidden beneath.
Aric's Thoughts:
People say a beast can never love.
I used to think that too. Not long ago, I believed that I would never feel these emotions. Not for anyone. In my 26 years of life, I never experienced love, not for anyone, not in this way. No one had ever seemed attractive to me, not in the way you do.
It only took one look... one fleeting moment... and I realized I had fallen for you, Zayn.
Zayn's name escaped his lips slowly, almost reverently, like a prayer — each syllable weighted with meaning. It wasn't just his name that Aric was speaking; it was every feeling that had built up inside him, every emotion that he had been hiding. The way his heart beat faster just at the thought of Zayn.
For the first time, Aric smiled — a genuine, unguarded smile. It was so soft, so pure, that he didn't even realize it had appeared. He, the beast, had a smile that could turn him from something dangerous into someone... human.
The Beast Within:
Aric was, by all accounts, a dangerous man. A powerful force that most feared. The world had known him as the "beast," and it was true — he carried an aura of danger wherever he went. But that smile, that soft, tender smile he hadn't realized was there, was proof of something else. Something magical.
It was the magic of love — the kind that could transform a heart, even a beast's heart, into something capable of tenderness, of affection.
And in that moment, as Aric looked at Zayn, feeling that inexplicable pull toward him, he realized how much Zayn had already begun to change him, to make him feel something he had never felt before.
It wasn't just the scars, or the mask he wore, or the beautiful face hidden behind it. It was Zayn's soul — a soul that had endured so much pain, and yet, somehow, still held on to the flickering light of hope, of love. A light that Aric found irresistible.
Zayn, despite everything, was perfect in Aric's eyes.
The Scene:
Outside, the world felt distant. The air had grown cold, sharp, and the wind carried with it the promise of change. The small, quiet corner of the parking lot was empty, and for a brief moment, everything seemed to stand still. Aric could only focus on Zayn — his every movement, his every gesture. The way his fingers hovered over his face, as if considering whether to remove the mask that hid so much of him.
And then, Zayn did something Aric hadn't expected.
He stopped. He reached up, and with a slow, hesitant motion, he took off the mask.
In that single moment, Aric felt his heart stop.
Zayn's face — the face that had been hidden from the world, from everyone — was now fully visible. The pale skin, the slightly parted lips as if the weight of the world was too much for him to speak. His eyes, though filled with grief, held something else — a fire that hadn't died out, a promise that there was more to him than the world could see.
He didn't know he was being watched. He didn't know Aric was there, his heart racing as he saw Zayn for the first time, truly seeing him.
For Aric, it was as though Zayn's face was no longer a mask — it was a story. A story of strength, of survival, of something that Aric could never fully understand but wanted to. In that moment, Aric knew something had changed within him.
Aric's Inner Conflict:
Aric wanted to reach out. He wanted to touch Zayn's face, feel his warmth, to pull him close and make him know that he was not alone anymore. That he, Aric, would never let him feel the coldness of the world again. But he knew he couldn't. Not yet.
Love, real love, was patient. It didn't demand. It didn't rush. It waited. Quietly. Until the time was right.
So, he stayed where he was, watching Zayn with that same intensity, but holding back, letting the moment pass — knowing that love, in its purest form, required nothing but time.
The Ending Moment:
As Zayn walked away, heading toward his car with the small shopping bag still swinging from his hand, Aric couldn't help but feel a sense of loss. Zayn's steps were slow now, like he carried something heavy with him. Yet, there was a grace in the way he moved, like a fragile piece of glass that could break, but still held light within.
When Zayn climbed into his car and the door closed behind him, the soft patter of rain began to fall. Light, gentle, like a whisper from the heavens themselves, a quiet blessing.
Aric sat in his car, his eyes still on Zayn. His heart pounded, but this time it was different. It wasn't fear or anger. It was something else entirely.
A soft whisper escaped his lips, barely audible to anyone but himself:
"You're not alone anymore, Zayn.
As the evening set in, Jack arrived to pick up Zayn. Finn had specifically asked Jack to bring Zayn along for the birthday party, a request that made Zayn feel an unexpected unease. He wasn't quite sure what he had gotten himself into, and there was a certain apprehension that lingered in the air. Little did Zayn know, the entire event had been secretly orchestrated by Aric. But this wasn't just any casual gathering; Aric had arranged it all with a particular purpose in mind — to introduce Zayn to the people who could change his life, although Zayn wasn't aware of it yet.
The birthday party had been carefully planned by Aric in his own home, far away from the knowledge of most people, except for Alex. No one had any idea that this grand occasion was anything more than a simple birthday celebration. For Zayn, though, everything seemed to be shrouded in mystery. His mind raced with questions, the most pressing of which was how Jack knew Mr. Zavier, Finn's brother. Zayn had never quite been fond of Finn's brother. There had always been something about him that Zayn couldn't quite place, a sense of unease whenever he thought of him. But tonight, there was one thing Zayn could rely on: Jack's presence. The feeling of comfort that Jack brought with him seemed to help lessen the tension, though the enigma surrounding the night still loomed large.
Zayn couldn't keep his thoughts to himself any longer.
"Jack," he asked, his voice tinged with curiosity, "how do you know Finn's brother?"
Jack paused for a moment, a small, knowing smile playing at the corner of his lips. "Oh, my brother Alex is friends with Mr. Zavier," Jack replied casually, as if it were the most ordinary thing in the world.
This simple revelation was enough to unravel some of the confusion in Zayn's mind. The fog that had been clouding his thoughts started to clear. "So that's why you're here with me," Zayn thought to himself. "Because you're the one person I trust among all these strangers."
Zayn had always been cautious in unfamiliar settings. The idea of stepping into a room full of unfamiliar faces was enough to make him feel vulnerable. But with Jack by his side, everything felt different. Jack wasn't just an acquaintance — he was someone Zayn had come to trust, someone he could lean on when he needed to. In that moment, Zayn realized how much he relied on Jack's presence, something he hadn't fully acknowledged before. It was a strange yet comforting realization, but at the same time, it made him smile quietly to himself. There was something about Jack's unwavering support that helped him navigate through this night of uncertainties.
The car ride, filled with a mix of anticipation and unspoken thoughts, seemed to pass in the blink of an eye. Before Zayn even realized it, they had arrived at their destination. Jack stopped the car, and they both stepped out. The moment Zayn set eyes on the mansion in front of him, his breath caught in his throat. The house — or rather, the palace before him — was unlike anything he had ever seen. It towered over them with an air of majesty and elegance. The architecture was nothing short of breathtaking, and the sprawling gardens and lawns around it only added to the opulence.
Zayn stood there, momentarily awestruck by the grandeur before him. He had seen places like this in films, but standing in front of it was a completely different experience. The excitement bubbling up inside him felt almost surreal, as though he had just stepped into a dream. Every inch of the place radiated wealth and prestige, yet there was an undeniable allure to it.
Just as he was taking in the overwhelming beauty of his surroundings, he saw Finn approaching from a distance. The moment Finn laid eyes on him, a wide smile spread across his face. Zayn, despite the initial unease, felt his own lips curve upwards into a smile. Without hesitation, Zayn walked toward Finn, the joy and familiarity of the moment overcoming him.
Finn greeted him warmly, "Hey, buddy!" His voice was filled with genuine happiness. "Happy birthday!"
Zayn felt a wave of relief wash over him as he embraced Finn, the tension that had gripped him earlier dissipating in the warmth of their connection. As they pulled away, Zayn, with a bright smile on his face, reached into his bag and handed Finn the gift bag he had brought along. "Happy birthday, Finn," Zayn said, his tone filled with sincerity.
Finn's eyes lit up as he took the gift, his smile growing even wider. "Thanks, Zayn! You didn't have to, but this means a lot." He added a soft chuckle, clearly touched by the gesture.
Zayn, still smiling, watched Finn's reaction. It was a small moment, but in that instant, everything felt right. For once, the uncertainty that usually clouded his mind seemed to fade into the background. In this place, with Jack and Finn, Zayn felt like he belonged. Surrounded by people who cared, the night held more promise than he had initially expected.
But even amidst the warmth and cheer of the birthday celebration, Zayn couldn't ignore the quiet tension that lingered in the air. There was something he had yet to uncover, some hidden truth that still eluded him. Aric's presence, though he wasn't physically there, seemed to linger in the atmosphere. Zayn couldn't shake the feeling that tonight wasn't just about a birthday celebration. It was about something more — something bigger than he could understand in that moment.
As the evening continued, emotions seemed to intertwine, and unspoken connections filled the air. Zayn's gaze drifted, almost unconsciously, toward the shadows, sensing something more — something waiting to be revealed.
This wasn't just a birthday party. Tonight was different. It was a night of revelations, a night when fate could change, and the beginning of something Zayn couldn't yet understand — but would soon be impossible to ignore.
The golden hues of the evening sky stretched lazily above, casting warm shadows across the stone path leading up to the estate. The grandeur of Aric's mansion stood tall and timeless, bathed in amber twilight, like something plucked from a forgotten dream.
Inside, the birthday celebration had just begun to stir. Guests arrived in elegant waves—laughter, footsteps, and polite chatter melting into the subtle notes of classical music playing somewhere deep inside the house.
Suddenly, the atmosphere shifted ever so slightly as a tall figure joined the gathering. Zavier—Finn's elder brother—moved through the guests like a silent current. He was composed, refined, exuding a cold charm that was impossible to ignore. His presence alone demanded attention. With a practiced smile, he began greeting guests one by one, his tone warm, his eyes distant.
Zayn had never met Zavier personally. Not until now.
But even without words exchanged, Zayn had always known what kind of man Zavier was. There was something unsettling about him—something that couldn't be masked by fine suits and expensive cologne. Unlike his younger brother Finn, who radiated warmth and kindness like the sun on a cold morning, Zavier was an enigma. An enigma wrapped in steel. Cold. Calculated. And far too composed for comfort.
Zayn could never bring himself to like him. Not even a little.
Their personalities were polar opposites. Where Finn was gentle, empathetic, and effortlessly kind, Zavier was sharp-edged, emotionally distant, and entirely unreadable. But despite all that Zayn disliked about him, there was one quality in Zavier that stood out—perhaps his only redeeming one: his love for his brother. No matter how harsh or flawed Zavier might be as a man, his devotion to Finn was undeniable. It was, in Zayn's eyes, the only thread of goodness he could see in him.
"Hey, come meet my brother," Finn said with a proud smile, tugging lightly on Zayn's sleeve. "I want to introduce you guys properly."
Zayn hesitated for a fraction of a second, but he nodded. Together with Jack and Alex, they followed Finn through the marble-tiled hallway. The four of them walked side by side toward the heart of the mansion, where the soft flicker of chandeliers and the smell of fresh roses filled the air.
As they stepped inside, something beautiful caught Zayn's attention.
There, across the grand hall, were two towering French doors flung open to reveal a garden bathed in twilight. The view stopped Zayn in his tracks. Beyond the doors, a sea of flowers stretched out like a living painting, awash in every shade of red, violet, and ivory. But it was the roses—velvety, crimson, and impossibly perfect—that stole his breath.
Zayn had always loved roses. There was something heartbreakingly delicate about them. The way they bloomed with such grace and faded with such quiet tragedy—it mirrored so much of what he felt but never said.
In that fleeting moment, Zayn forgot everything—the crowd, the awkward introductions, even the silent tension that Zavier's presence had brought.
And then, fate offered a quiet surprise.
Among the crowd, Zayn finally met Alex—Jack's older brother.
Unlike the others, Alex carried himself with a calm grace. There was no awkward silence, no lingering glances, no curious or cruel questions about Zayn's scars or the visible story his face told. Alex's presence was a breath of fresh air. He looked at Zayn like he was just another person, not a mystery to be solved or a spectacle to be analyzed. And perhaps that was why Zayn found him… different. Safer. Kinder. He didn't know Alex well yet, but something about him felt comforting, like a soft blanket on a stormy night.
It was rare for Zayn to feel that.
As the crowd thickened and conversations grew louder, Jack and Finn got pulled into another circle of guests. Zayn watched them for a moment,
"Zayn had felt good coming here for Finn, but now he was exhausted by the noise and the constant eyes on him."
but right now, all he wanted was some air.
Without saying a word, he quietly slipped away.
The call of the garden was too strong to resist.
Each step he took toward those open doors felt like shedding a layer of tension. As he crossed the threshold, the world changed. The laughter and noise of the party melted into the background. The cool breeze wrapped around him like silk, carrying with it the scent of roses, damp earth, and something unnameable—something almost magical.
The garden wasn't just a place. It felt like a dream carved into reality.
Petals brushed against his fingertips as he walked between flower beds. The sky above was deepening into indigo, stars beginning to bloom across its vast canvas. And under that starlight, surrounded by roses, Zayn felt a strange mix of peace… and longing.
He leaned slightly toward a rose, gently brushing its petal with his knuckle. Its softness reminded him of things he never allowed himself to feel. Love. Vulnerability. Desire. Fear.
And something else stirred in him—a shadow of something he couldn't name.
There was love in the air tonight.
Not loud or bold, but quiet and aching, like a secret melody playing in the back of the mind. And even though Zayn couldn't fully grasp what it meant, he could feel its presence curling into his chest like a whispered promise.
Unseen by anyone, under the hush of the twilight sky, Zayn allowed himself a moment of stillness—a moment that felt suspended in time. The garden, the roses, the air... it was all holding him gently, like the world had paused just to let him breathe.