Stark against white.
Blood against snowy skin.
In the deep, cold, blackness of his heart.
He loved him.
Tyki held the small boy in his arms. He was warm, so warm. And peaceful.
Pale, cold light flitted through the overhead tree branches.
The soft sound of fabric, the unbuttoning of buttons. Tyki swathed the boy in his own shirt.
The boy stirred with the sudden rush of cold air.
One swift motion, Tyki gagged him.
The boy opened his eyes wide. Pale gray met dark brown.
Tyki smelled the fear.
The sharp glint.
Against the night.
The metallic blade cut through the dark.
The boy let out a muffled scream.
He was silenced by a quick gash to his skin.
Then another. And another.
Several more cuts.
The boy's clear tears streamed down his face, mixing with the blood on his chest.
Stupid! Why didn't he try to save himself?
Did he…enjoy this?
Was he trying desperately to please the other man?
Fulfill those sadistic desires?
His tears continued to run as the knife kept moving.
Idiot! Surely he would be caught.
Somehow, he couldn't stop.
Some animalistic nature was driving him to deface the boy's beautiful skin.
The boy whom he loved so much.
The boy he would die for.
He would kill for.
Finally, something told Tyki to stop.
He set the knife down with a satisfied grin.
Looming over the pained boy he read the three carved words.
'I Love You'