As your sight returned, you saw him—no longer the demon you once thought, but now a broken, sorrowful figure kneeling before you. His hands were pressed over his face, as though trying to shield himself from your gaze, and his body trembled with the weight of his grief.

"N-Don't look at me... I'm a monster," he whispered, his voice strained, cracked with emotion. Tears streamed down his face, a stark contrast to the terrifying creature he once seemed. His chest heaved with sobs, the deep pain of his words piercing the still air.

He had once taken your sight, afraid that you would leave him if you saw him as he truly was. In his desperation to become human, to be loved, he had made the choice to hide himself from you. But now, the truth was unavoidable. He was no longer the powerful demon that once stood before you, but someone lost and fragile, vulnerable in his yearning for affection.

"I didn't want to be a monster... I just wanted to be loved,"

he sobbed, his voice barely above a whisper, as if speaking too loudly would shatter what little hope he had left.

"I thought if I became like them, if I became human, I could be loved... but now I've only hurt you."

The demon, now stripped of his pride, trembled with the weight of his realization. He was still the creature you had once feared, but in his tears and vulnerability, you saw only a soul broken by the desire to connect, to belong. He didn't want to be the devil anymore. He wanted to be seen, to be understood, to be loved—by you, by anyone. But in that moment, all he felt was the crushing weight of his own self-loathing.