He's so beautiful.

A face like Adonis. The youth of Dorian Gray. So beautifully, ridiculously tempting that I can't stand it.

The carefree invincibility of youth.

I want him.

He'll be mine soon.

Very soon.

There's no moon tonight. His beautiful frame is lit by the halo of the streetlights as he walks. So confident, so brazen in the dark.

He should be more careful. You never know what lurks in the dark.

Things like me.

Closer now. Not even sparing me a passing glance.

Up close he's even more beautiful.

"Excuse me, sir-" the words garble off into a scream, muffled by the rag.

He squirms and struggles deliciously, lovely eyes comically widde.

Mine.

Finally he gives up, slumping into my arms like a rag doll. Eyes closed, pretty mouth slack.

Mine now.