This is probably his lesson from Father. If you don't want your wings, you won't be able to save those who matter. He knew this when he cut them off, when he burned them on the beach; but until now revenge and punishment were enough.

Scaring them, torturing them was enough, and he doesn't realize when did their life started to matter more than what comes after.

When did their laughter, their mere presence started to fill the empty spaces inside him. When did his loneliness became so suffocating, that almost strangers feel like a breath of fresh air in his lungs. That their death can make him drown and drown again.

And he has been playing for hours now, trying to numb what isn't hollow pain anymore but burning agony, and it doesn't stop. At least not until she arrives, with a shy smile and determination shining in her eyes.

It still hurts. But as she's trying to remember the only song that stuck after years of lessons; the hollow feeling that has been steadily growing in him for weeks, slowly disappears.