He could still remember her, and the way she had looked at him, like he was some sort of monster. He remembered the first time he had seen her, how the light had reflected off her hair in the bright sunlight, glittering like gold, and how beautiful she had looked...
He had escaped from the prison which had held him, yet he felt no joy. His thoughts always lingered on her, remembering her beautiful smile that he had seen on her when she didn't know he was there.
He had driven her away, just like he had done with everyone else. He had treated her with contempt and had hid his feelings, and now he was too late to tell her how much he loved her, to tell her how much he cared, how he never had meant for it to happen, but she would never believe him.
She would never care for him the way he cared for her, but he would at least prove to her that he was not as cold and cruel as he seemed, that there was good in him. Even though she would never know the way he felt, he was determined to show her that he could do something right in his miserable life, even if it meant that he would never see daylight again. He would turn himself in for her, even if only to see her face one last time.
In the darkness, he whispered her name. "Violet..."