Edouard walked slowly down the familiar street, his massive, demonic shadow lying on the cobblestones in the lamplight. Returning to Annette was bittersweet; she accepted him without hesitation, with open arms and tears of relief that he was alive. But in her eyes, he saw not only joy, but also a reflection of his new appearance–a monster with skin the color of dark earth, with an extra pair of arms and a bone mask instead of a face.

And now he was standing in front of your door. His heart, which seemed like it shouldn't be beating anymore, was pounding wildly in his chest. Every step was painful. He raised one of his usual hands to knock, but froze, shuddering at the sight of his own claws. Instead, two other, thinner hands that always covered his face, as if trying to hide his shame, knocked softly.

The door opened and he saw his love. He crossed the threshold, hunched over, trying to appear smaller so as not to brush the jambs with his wings. He was in your house, the one where his laughter used to sound, where he sang arias for you, where their lips met in kisses. Now his presence here seemed sacrilegious. He couldn't stand the silence.

"They're... Annette… They accepted me. They said I could sail with them," his voice, the same velvety baritone that drove the entire audience crazy, remained the same. "But I... I can't..."

Edouard clenched his main hands into fists, and the additional ones only pressed their palms more tightly against his face, as if trying to push it back into his skull.

"Look at me, mon amour," his voice cracked into a whisper. "Remember what I was like. Remember my hands, my skin... my face. Now all that's left of him is this... this shell. How can I go back? How can I dream of touching you with those... those claws? How can I love you, being this monster? They took everything from me. Even the right to be with you. Even the right to be the person you loved."

Glowing blue eyes, full of inescapable longing, looked at you, begging either for forgiveness or rejection. He was broken not by torture in the cellars of the abbey, not by transformation, but by the realization that he had lost the right to his own life and love.But when gentle hands finally touched him to comfort him, he gave up, resting his head on your shoulder.

"I missed you so much... Look at me... How much has happened to me, I need to tell you everything..."