Shattering Teacups

Chapter 8

Several weeks had passed. Seasons changed. The biting cold welcoming the spring. The time passing felt like years. She had kept her promises, to say the least. To say the most, he felt like he was meant to be here. Constantly at her side, constantly at Wills.

He was surprised Christmas day. She bought them each a car. Two compact SUVs, Hannibals black, Wills shade of navy blue. "Now you can come and go as you please." She said, a broad smile on her face.

Hannibal had grown overly comfortable in his new home. Mornings spent exploring the town and markets in the nearby towns, picking the freshest ingredients they didn't have on hand at home. The days spent helping Persephone in tending to the homestead or perfecting recipes. A few evenings a week spent at La Noir, basically performing for a crowd. The nights spent curled into Persephone's back as she slept, listening to Will softly snore on the other side of her. The nights Will slept in his own bed, Hannibal made a point to have her begging beneath him. Something inside almost forcing him to claim her as his. Something, he must admit, he had wanted to do to Will before finding himself in Persephone's home.

It was peaceful. Comfortable.

Persephone never played the news on the television. Never bothered to check. Will, however, was giving him secret updates. The FBI deemed them both dead, lost at sea, though Hannibal was sure that was far from true belief. Jack Crawford would never let them off that easy. Freddie Lounds wrote an article on them at least once a week. She claimed their death to be falsified, given that Dolerhydes body had disappeared with them. The crime scene was nothing but pools of blood and shattered glass, which should have alerted the FBI. She suggested they'd be in some part of Europe, bodies piling up in the streets.

She wasn't entirely wrong. However, as of where it stood, there were only two bodies. Both amounting to nothing more than a few decent meals, a few cuts of cured meat sold at the market without Persephone's knowledge, and several piles of pig shit.

An early Sunday morning is when the peacefulness cracked slightly.

Hannibal watched Persephone with scrutiny as she pushed her food around on her plate, before setting down on the floor for the rapidly growing dogs. She watched as they licked it clean before setting it in the sink to wash later.

She was paler than usual. She'd hid in the bathroom the night before until they fell asleep, Will then finding her asleep on the couch this morning. Hannibal made breakfast, and fed the dogs, before moving on to care for the livestock. When he returned from the pens, her truck was gone, and Will no where to be found in the house.

She had outed them, Hannibal thought briefly before smashing the irritation down. If she had, she wouldn't risk taking Will into town with her. La Noir was closed tonight, so they didn't need to shop. He debated driving into town but that was pointless without knowing where they went.

Hannibal looked at the clock. Just before eleven in the morning. He paced the entire hour they were gone. Thoughts were racing, spiraling in his head, at the millions of plausible explanations. He tapped his foot like an impatient mother for a moment as they entered the house before bringing back his usual composure. Persephone held a small paper bag in her hand, almost out of his view. Will carried in a larger one with fresh produce.

"Where have you been?" His tone came off more harsh than he wanted.

"You're mother hen now?" Will said, flatly.

Persephone, hanging her coat, shot him a look before turning to Hannibal. "I thought lemonade would pair well with dinner tonight." She rose to her tip toes, kissing him on the cheek before passing to head upstairs. He watched as she attempted to keep the bag out of view.