[ Not that Hannibal ever would, but there's implication in the seemingly odd statement about how much he's enjoyed this—all of this. With each passing day, Hannibal wonders if a whole wing will grow in his memory palace just to remember this odd fever dream of limbo. It never bothers him that it might not matter. They can fall and hit the water and that would be it, but just in case there's something more, he wants to return to this. It's an elation he had dreamed of from the moment he had seen that Will was perfectly capable of what Jack Crawford had sent him to Hannibal to prevent.
He rubs his thumb over Will's cheek, fond and in a rhythm to compliment the beating of their hearts. Hannibal closes his eyes, since he's so deeply content that he could want for nothing more, but his eyes flutter back open in light surprise. Though Will can't see it, Hannibal does give him a sidelong glance, but the amusement in his tone is perfectly clear. ]
She killed Nui, didn't she? I thought she might have.
[ But even so, he'd never spoken up to voice his ideas. Not in that sense. He and Will both shared a keen insight there that would likely solve trials very quickly, but neither of them shared. Hannibal was far too enraptured in the dance of wearing his "people suit" as Bedelia had once called it, and Will was...
There weren't really words to describe that. Not any that Hannibal could pick out so easily.
A few years ago, Will would have put himself in the killers shoes with reluctance, but without hesitation. Saving lives was more important, because Will Graham was a good man. Or at least, he wanted to be. Now? He was more than that, at least in Hannibal's view. He could be a good man if he wanted, but it had always struck Hannibal that the cost for his gift was too high. And so he had shown him, piece by piece, that perhaps he didn't need to give it.
The stroking of Will's cheek stops, but it's only because Hannibal pulls back. Their romantic, chaste gestures came more from Hannibal's own hesitations, because he had coveted moments like this for so long that he never wanted to do a thing to push them away. He was satisfied with touches of the hand, warm, shared glances, and laying with Will at night. But he didn't need to worry about going too far, that Will might skittishly flirt with guilt and not indulge in what Hannibal had been trying to bring him to.
Though even so, when Hannibal kisses Will for the first time, it's still soft, romantic, and near chaste in a way that doesn't seem to suit him.
At least, not when you know what Hannibal Lecter is capable of. ]
no subject
[ Not that Hannibal ever would, but there's implication in the seemingly odd statement about how much he's enjoyed this—all of this. With each passing day, Hannibal wonders if a whole wing will grow in his memory palace just to remember this odd fever dream of limbo. It never bothers him that it might not matter. They can fall and hit the water and that would be it, but just in case there's something more, he wants to return to this. It's an elation he had dreamed of from the moment he had seen that Will was perfectly capable of what Jack Crawford had sent him to Hannibal to prevent.
He rubs his thumb over Will's cheek, fond and in a rhythm to compliment the beating of their hearts. Hannibal closes his eyes, since he's so deeply content that he could want for nothing more, but his eyes flutter back open in light surprise. Though Will can't see it, Hannibal does give him a sidelong glance, but the amusement in his tone is perfectly clear. ]
She killed Nui, didn't she? I thought she might have.
[ But even so, he'd never spoken up to voice his ideas. Not in that sense. He and Will both shared a keen insight there that would likely solve trials very quickly, but neither of them shared. Hannibal was far too enraptured in the dance of wearing his "people suit" as Bedelia had once called it, and Will was...
There weren't really words to describe that. Not any that Hannibal could pick out so easily.
A few years ago, Will would have put himself in the killers shoes with reluctance, but without hesitation. Saving lives was more important, because Will Graham was a good man. Or at least, he wanted to be. Now? He was more than that, at least in Hannibal's view. He could be a good man if he wanted, but it had always struck Hannibal that the cost for his gift was too high. And so he had shown him, piece by piece, that perhaps he didn't need to give it.
The stroking of Will's cheek stops, but it's only because Hannibal pulls back. Their romantic, chaste gestures came more from Hannibal's own hesitations, because he had coveted moments like this for so long that he never wanted to do a thing to push them away. He was satisfied with touches of the hand, warm, shared glances, and laying with Will at night. But he didn't need to worry about going too far, that Will might skittishly flirt with guilt and not indulge in what Hannibal had been trying to bring him to.
Though even so, when Hannibal kisses Will for the first time, it's still soft, romantic, and near chaste in a way that doesn't seem to suit him.
At least, not when you know what Hannibal Lecter is capable of. ]