sating: (kablamsterdam)
dr. hannibal "polite vore man" lecter ([personal profile] sating) wrote 2017-01-15 05:58 pm (UTC)

[ The comment about Spanish keeps Hannibal's smile warm and pleased. There wasn't doubt anymore. His suggestion to go to Cuba was made with the full expectation that Will would accept the idea as a whole. He understood the gesture as soon as Will's weight had shifted. Taking them off the cliff was hardly Will's now old desire for revenge. They were escaping. Death was an escape just as much as Cuba.

But he's disarmed by the contact. His mouth falls open slightly as he takes in a quiet breath that's too soft to be a gasp. He's so happy in that moment, because even more than the words, that touch, the intimate intertwining of their fingers like a knot, that makes it real. Whether this was the afterlife or something stranger, it hardly matters.

Yet it doesn't last. It takes Hannibal a moment to recollect himself, though only just a moment. By the time Will turns back to him, the glassy look in his eyes is fading quickly. For the first time, he gives more attention to where they are than who is here with hin. He looks to the window to see the town, then to the people around them that become more than faces in a featureless crowd. ]


I suppose we should.

[ Like others, he stands, and he immediately rebuttons his suit jacket, though he does briefly glance down towards his stomach and then to Will's head. His smile quirks differently, less warm and more playful. ]

How's your head, Will?

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