Loki stared at the dagger in his hand, appreciating the smooth, cold metal of the blade. He traced his finger along it, down the side, nearly as sharp as his tongue, pressing until his finger bled, fascinated by the way crimson stained flawless silver.
This night was a long time coming, Loki mused. He and Thor had long since grown apart, the older preferring the company of his friends than his little brother. Sometimes he was so callous in the way he rejected spending time with Loki, telling him he was not wanted and watching the way he would laugh with his friends.
Loki had soon built up a barrier, keeping all out but Frigga. He confided in his mother and she listened, offerig advice where she could... But it wasn't enough. His loneliness, the aching hole his once beloved brother left was too much.
Loki grimaced, thinking of how Thor had tried to make amends when he had returned from Midgard, claiming that he'd grown and realized the error of his ways when he had cast his "beloved little brother" aside. Though he was so tempted to give in to the warmth of those blue eyes, the sincerity he saw, Loki would have none of it, remaining ice cold.
He would not be tempted, he thought, bringing the tip of the blade to rest over his heart. He pressed, feeling it pierce his skin, and stopping.
Three words were whispered into the darkness of the room, the first and last words to break the silence.
"Forgive me, Thor."
I'm not even sorry. Hope you enjoyed, review if you've got the time.