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#Hannigram
The hunted hunter
Hannibal looks at the watch on his wrist. It's 7.30 pm. He smiles. He gets up from his desk and heads for the door. On the way, he runs his hand down his shirt, smoothing it. He likes to look perfect for his next patient.
Will Graham. The FBI profiler who is more than a patient in Hannibal's heart. Every week he looks forward to his sessions, because it's the only way he has - for now - to be alone with the most interesting man he's ever met.
He rests his hand on the doorknob and, with a breathtaking smile, opens the door.
- Will?
He looks around his waiting room. It's not that it's big, but still Hannibal walks the length of it, as if Will could have hidden himself in such a tiny space.
His face has changed, he is no longer smiling. Will is always punctual, he knows of Hannibal's hatred of rudeness, and not turning up on time is rude.
<<Have you forgotten what day it is?>>
He closes the door, worry in his frown, like an open book. Hannibal always tries to hide his feelings, but now anyone with him would see them. He could even touch them, so clear they are.
He returns to his desk and opens his diary.
Will Graham, 19.30.
The appointment is right, the day is right. For a fleeting second he even thinks he's made a mistake. He takes the phone in his hand, no missed call. No message on the answering machine.
No message on the answering machine.
<<Where is Will? >>
Thoughtful and very aware of his situation, Hannibal rubs his hands together. Here it is again, the loneliness. He breathes, concentrating on what he feels, facing it.
<<Has something happened to him?>>
Hannibal rises from his chair and walks over to the figure of the black stag that, on a stand, stands imposing. This figure always reminds him of Will.
Knock, knock, knock. The door emits the sound of knuckles, on the other side, knocking.
Quickly, he pushes the door open.
- Sorry I'm late, Dr. Lecter.
A familiar warmth settles in Hannibal's heart. He smiles openly, showing his incisors.
- Come in, Will. Come in.
The profiler enters and sits directly in the chair reserved for him, such is the confidence. The first few times he wandered around the room, nervous, and didn't allow any closeness with Hannibal. That has changed. The two men's armchairs are getting closer and Hannibal, well, Hannibal knows he wants a lot more.
- Has something happened? - he asks.
Will watches him, little escapes his empathy.
- Are you all right, Hannibal?
- He calls me by my first name.
- I'm sorry.
- I like it, Will, don't stop doing it," he encourages him. What's your basis for asking that?
- Your face... you know, my empathy. .... - Will leans forward - I think you were sad.
Hannibal leans forward too, moving closer to Will.
- I was worried.
- About me? - Will asks the question without thinking.
- Hannibal: Yes.
Will's eyes want to know more, to follow beyond the barrier Hannibal has around him. Hannibal gives some of it away. He wants Will to understand, to know.
- Alana entertained me.
- Dr. Bloom?
- Remember the kiss?
Unfortunately Hannibal remembered that fact very clearly. When Will came to his house in the middle of the night he was overjoyed, but when he told him why he had done it, that happiness vanished. Kissing Will is a privilege he hasn't had.
- Now Alana has changed her mind. She says she doesn't see me as unstable anymore. She wants ....
- No, Will. No.
Will raises an eyebrow, curious.
- Doesn't he?
- Alana is but a shadow where you are light. You underestimate yourself. The light must be with the light to keep shining, to shine brighter. Otherwise, it goes out - Hannibal, barrier more and more open, seizes the opportunity that presents itself -. I can shine at your side, Will, if you let me.
And if you don't, too, Hannibal thinks. It'll just take a little longer.
- Hannibal... - he leans back on the seat - you should have told me before. I said yes.
Hannibal taps his fingers on the armrest of his chair. He looks at Will, keeps looking at him.
- Undo it - he gets up from the chair and stands in front of Will -. Undo it, Will.
He grabs Will's shoulders and lifts him up, facing him, face to face. Blue eyes that focus on his, that aren't lost, that know exactly what they want.
And, with the wisdom that only the certainty of knowing you are wanted can give you, Hannibal kisses Will as his hands clasp Will's body. It is not a sweet kiss, it is not slow. Hannibal's kiss encapsulates every minute of longing for Will, and it's been too many.
- Undo it.
Will draws in a ragged breath. Hannibal's forehead resting on his, his hands unbuttoning his shirt, thirsty.
- I'm going to convince you, Will. When I'm done... your name will be nothing but a dream.
Will smiles, satisfied. The delay has gone perfectly. The lie, even more so. Alana still thinks he's an unstable man, but Will hasn't cared for a long time. What he cares too much about is Hannibal, more and more in his mind, more and more in his heart with each passing day.
He has wanted to speed up the process. After all, it would have happened anyway. A little help never hurt anyone.
