𝑶𝑵𝑬𝑺𝑯𝑶𝑻ᵗᵒᵖ ᵐᵃˡᵉ ʳᵉᵃᵈᵉʳ

Hannibal Lecter

In dimly lit room, the aroma of fine wine and gourmet dishes mingled with the tension between Hannibal and M/n. The air was thick with unspoken words, and the clinking of silverware against porcelain was the only soundtrack to their clandestine meeting.

Hannibal, elegant as ever, observed M/n with a calculating gaze. "M/n, my dear, you have exquisite taste in wine. A rare trait."

M/n swirled the wine in his glass. "Of course only the best for special occasions, Hannibal."

He leaned in. "You and I... we're not so different, you know?"

A spark of curiosity flickered in Hannibal's eyes. "Explain, M/n."

M/n chuckled, a dark edge to his tone. "I know what you crave, Hannibal. The thrill of the hunt, the taste of the forbidden. But unlike you, I don't hide behind a facade. I embrace my desires."

Hannibal raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "M/n, you're playing a dangerous game."

M/n's laughter echoed in the dim room. "What can I say? I find comfort in the chaos."

He stood, placing his wine down, and walked toward Hannibal, offering his hand like a gentleman. "Shall we?"

Hannibal took M/n's hand with a wry smile. "Lead the way, M/n."

With a subtle touch, M/n placed his hand on Hannibal's waist, pulling him closer. Hannibal, equally bold, placed his hand on M/n's shoulder, their fingers intertwining in a silent pact.

"Your hands are surprisingly gentle for a sinner, Hannibal," M/n whispered as he guided Hannibal across the carpet.

Hannibal smirked in response, his gaze never leaving M/n. "Soft hands for a sinner, perhaps. But what about the heart, M/n? Is it as gentle as the touch?"

The dance continued, a macabre ballet in the dimly lit room, the haunting melody lingering in the air.

"I know, what you will do next, M/n" Hannibal's gaze pierced the other man

"Then get along with it, Hannibal"

As the atmosphere thickened with an electrifying tension, M/n suddenly twirled away, a glint of silver flashing in his hand. Before Hannibal could react, the other man plunged a knife into his abdomen.

Hannibal locked eyes with M/n. In that moment he weakened but defiant once he whispered his last words

"I'll wait for you in hell, M/n."

With a graceful movement, he fell into M/n's embrace, blood seeping through their entwined fingers

Yet M/n didn't falter; he gently laid Hannibal's face to rest on his shoulder, tightening his grip around Hannibal's waist. The dance continued, a solo performance now, with M/n twirling and swaying with the lifeless form in his arms.

"I'll meet you in hell, Hannibal."