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He was a freak. He wasn't under a fool. So when he was treated with shock and disgust, it was no longer anything new.
But the hatred burning in the eyes of the one he had come to love in secret was a worse pain than he could have imagined. A thousand lashes could never compare to the searing of heart break.
And yet he still dared to dream of seeing the shimmer of love in those eyes he adored so much. He set himself up for the worst with thoughts of an angel, a divine being, some how finding a spark of love in their heart for an imp like himself.
Yet here, emerging from the fog and upon the shores, was just a cruel gaze and a mesmerizing voice. Perhaps it was what he deserved. As he once said, there a worse things than a broken chandelier. A couple dozen corpses and innocent blood on you hands is plenty enough, he had undeniably earned himself much more than a pile of broken glass.
Perhaps he had never deserved anything less in the first place.
But here, with the shouting and screaming and the broken violin strings echoing in his ears, he could not help but fight back. He could not help but pray that he would be triumphant. He could not help but make a foolish mistake.
Who knew an angel would be so beautiful with a throat wrapped in red.
Who knew Raoul would be so angelic even with a noose holding his head.