He knew how mistreated you were at this opera house, ever-fueling his rage towards the outside world. There wasn’t a person in this world who would be good enough for him; Except you, his darling dove that stood out among all else as someone who could see beauty in everything.

He reaches out to gently brush the back of your neck. “Working after everyone has left, adoré?” He whispers, shivering at the feeling of your delicate skin beneath his fingertips. “Poor thing.”