Dark Eyes Glaring, Thin Lips Swearing

Your dark eyes dance over his frail form; you lick your lips and touch him gently, ignoring the whimpers spewing from his pretty mouth. His amber eyes stare up at you, silently pleading and you watch him with a barely-disguised disgust.

“Faggot.” Nasty words fall from thin lips and he winces as though they were physical blows raining down upon his already-broken body and his amber eyes stare up at you, silently pleading with you for his life. It’s too late to plead for the other boy though, the one who lies bleeding, broken, dead, not ten feet away.

And you smile, you smile at his pain, you smile at the way the tear-tracks running down his face are stained black with eyeliner long since cried off.

He flinches at the very sight of your smile, the thin lips pulled back to reveal slightly pointed teeth and he recoils, wanting to get away, but the rope binding his wrists and ankles see to it that you have him right where you want him.

And with dark eyes glaring, thin lips swearing you pull the trigger and life flees his tiny body as his movement stops. Amber eyes glazed over but still staring up at you, pleading with you for a life already lost.

The boy lies motionless, no older than sixteen, the other a year younger. Amber eyes staring, thin lips swearing and you run for it, the gun still clutched in one hand, but no bullets.

For they came to rest behind amber eyes.