𝘜𝘯𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘢𝘭 𝘚𝘵𝘰𝘳𝘺

𝓒𝓱𝓪𝓹𝓽𝓮𝓻 𝓕𝓸𝓾𝓻𝓽𝓮𝓮𝓷

𝖶𝖺𝗋𝗇𝗂𝗇𝗀: 𝖫𝖺𝗇𝗀𝗎𝖺𝗀𝖾

𝙸 𝚆𝚊𝚜 𝙽𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚃𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 - 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚆𝚎𝚎𝚔𝚗𝚍

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"𝗧𝗵𝗮𝗻𝗸 𝘆𝗼𝘂, 𝗜 𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗹𝗹𝘆 𝗱𝗼 𝗮𝗽𝗼𝗹𝗼𝗴𝗶𝘇𝗲 𝗳𝗼𝗿 𝗯𝗲𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗮 𝗯𝘂𝗿𝗱𝗲𝗻," Y/n said as she sat down on the dinning table, and Hannibal placed down come freshly cooked food. As always.. presentable.

"𝗡𝗼𝘁 𝗮𝘁 𝗮𝗹𝗹. 𝗠𝘆 𝗸𝗶𝘁𝗰𝗵𝗲𝗻 𝗶𝘀 𝗮𝗹𝘄𝗮𝘆𝘀 𝗼𝗽𝗲𝗻 𝘁𝗼 𝗮 𝗳𝗿𝗶𝗲𝗻𝗱," Hannibal said with a smile and popped up the bottle of wine.

Y/n took the fork in her hand and grabbed a piece of what seemed pork and took a bite. As always the food was amazingly good. Hannibal also took a bite and enjoyed his meal and looked at Y/n.

He didn't say anything for a moment and looked back down at his plate, "𝗜 𝘀𝗽𝗼𝗸𝗲 𝘁𝗼 𝗗𝗿. 𝗦𝘂𝘁𝗰𝗹𝗶𝗳𝗳𝗲. 𝗪𝗲 𝗯𝗿𝗶𝗲𝗳𝗹𝘆 𝗱𝗶𝘀𝗰𝘂𝘀𝘀𝗲𝗱 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗽𝗮𝗿𝘁𝗶𝗰𝘂𝗹𝗮𝗿𝘀 𝗼𝗳 𝘆𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝘃𝗶𝘀𝗶𝘁𝘀. 𝗪𝗼𝘂𝗹𝗱 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗹𝗶𝗸𝗲 𝘁𝗼 𝗱𝗶𝘀𝗰𝘂𝘀𝘀 𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗺 𝘄𝗶𝘁𝗵 𝗺𝗲," he asked and looked at Y/n again meeting her eyes.

"𝗧𝗵𝗲𝗿𝗲 𝗮𝗿𝗲 𝗻𝗼 𝗽𝗮𝗿𝘁𝗶𝗰𝘂𝗹𝗮𝗿𝘀. 𝗛𝗲 𝗱𝗶𝗱𝗻'𝘁 𝗳𝗶𝗻𝗱 𝗮𝗻𝘆𝘁𝗵𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝘄𝗿𝗼𝗻𝗴," Y/n said looking back down at her plate and taking a sip of wine.

Hannibal's eyes looked a little to the side and soon said, "𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗻 𝘄𝗲 𝗸𝗲𝗲𝗽 𝗹𝗼𝗼𝗸𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗳𝗼𝗿 𝗮𝗻𝘀𝘄𝗲𝗿𝘀," he said looking back down at his plate and took another bite of his food. After a moment he spoke again, "𝗽𝗲𝗿𝗵𝗮𝗽𝘀 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝘄𝗼𝘂𝗹𝗱 𝗽𝗲𝗿𝗺𝗶𝘁 𝗺𝗲 𝘁𝗼 𝗿𝘂𝗻 𝘀𝗼𝗺𝗲 𝘁𝗲𝘀𝘁𝘀 𝗼𝗳 𝗺𝘆 𝗼𝘄𝗻."

Y/n stayed silent and looked at her plate for a few seconds then up to Dr. Lecter. "𝗬𝗼𝘂 𝘄𝗼𝘂𝗹𝗱𝗻'𝘁 𝗽𝘂𝗯𝗹𝗶𝘀𝗵 𝗮𝗻𝘆𝘁𝗵𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗮𝗯𝗼𝘂𝘁 𝗺𝗲, 𝘄𝗼𝘂𝗹𝗱 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗗𝗿. 𝗟𝗲𝗰𝘁𝗲𝗿?"

"𝗜𝗳 𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗿𝗲 𝘄𝗼𝘂𝗹𝗱 𝗲𝘃𝗲𝗿 𝗯𝗲 𝗮𝗻𝘆𝘁𝗵𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝘁𝗵𝗮𝘁-𝗺𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁 𝗯𝗲 𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗿𝗮𝗽𝗲𝘂𝘁𝗶𝗰 𝘃𝗮𝗹𝘂𝗲 𝘁𝗼 𝗼𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗿𝘀, 𝗜'𝗱 𝗮𝗯𝘀𝘁𝗿𝗮𝗰𝘁 𝗶𝘁 𝗶𝗻 𝗮 𝗳𝗼𝗿𝗺 𝘁𝗵𝗮𝘁 𝘄𝗼𝘂𝗹𝗱 𝗯𝗲 𝘁𝗼𝘁𝗮𝗹𝗹𝘆 𝘂𝗻𝗿𝗲𝗰𝗼𝗴𝗻𝗶𝘇𝗮𝗯𝗹𝗲," Hannibal said, meeting her eyes.

"𝗝𝘂𝘀𝘁 𝗱𝗼 𝗺𝗲 𝗮 𝗳𝗮𝘃𝗼𝗿 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗽𝘂𝗯𝗹𝗶𝘀𝗵 𝗶𝘁 𝗽𝗼𝘀𝘁𝗵𝘂𝗺𝗼𝘂𝘀𝗹𝘆," she said taking another sip of wine.

Hannibal slightly chuckled. "𝗔𝗳𝘁𝗲𝗿 𝘆𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝗱𝗲𝗮𝘁𝗵 𝗼𝗿 𝗺𝗶𝗻𝗲," Hannibal asked.

"𝗪𝗵𝗶𝗰𝗵 𝗲𝘃𝗲𝗿 𝗰𝗼𝗺𝗲𝘀 𝗳𝗶𝗿𝘀𝘁," Y/n said making Hannibal slightly smile.

Hannibal stayed silent for a moment and said, "𝗵𝗮𝘃𝗲 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘀𝗶𝗱𝗲𝗿𝗲𝗱 𝗖𝗼𝘁𝗮𝗿𝗱'𝘀 𝗦𝘆𝗻𝗱𝗿𝗼𝗺𝗲? 𝗜𝘁'𝘀 𝗿𝗮𝗿𝗲 𝗱𝗲𝗹𝘂𝘀𝗶𝗼𝗻𝗮𝗹 𝗱𝗶𝘀𝗼𝗿𝗱𝗲𝗿 𝗶𝗻 𝘄𝗵𝗶𝗰𝗵 𝗮 𝗽𝗲𝗿𝘀𝗼𝗻 𝗯𝗲𝗹𝗶𝗲𝘃𝗲𝘀 𝗵𝗲 𝗼𝗿 𝘀𝗵𝗲 𝗶𝘀 𝗱𝗲𝗮𝗱."