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#Hannigram
He knew it. He smelled it on Will like a predator chasing its prey, about to be caught. That bitter smell of betrayal that enveloped his nostrils and broke his heart.
Will had changed. It was subtle, imperceptible, but Hannibal knew he was playing both sides. Every day he drifted a little further apart despite spending time together, Will just wasn't there. He knew exactly what to do with the feeling that tightened in his chest and sometimes wouldn't let him breathe. He knew how to release it from his body.
Because trusting Will had been easy, and it had been easy for the simple fact that she loved him. When you love someone, jumping into the void doesn't seem crazy. And Hannibal, in his disguise as a person, had allowed Will to see him, trusting him, showing himself in all his splendour so that his beloved would accept him. Love him.
Will hadn't wanted that gift. And Hannibal was broken. To place hope in another human being is to place it in smoke: it's not up to you, you can't control it, just see where the wind blows it.
- Hannibal...
Blue eyes begging to be forgiven. Bright eyes that Hannibal has so often wished to see reflected, now at last they are his.
- You betrayed me.
Hannibal's hand wraps around the back of Will's neck as he stabs him. Right now he is torn between letting him bleed out and die or leaving his mark on him, and Will lives. He is so torn that the first option is the only viable one.
- No... No...
- I had so many plans for us, Will.
- We still can...
- Shhh, darling.
Warm blood between Hannibal's fingers, covering the floor. A single tear running down his face, from the part of him that longed for Will's company, the same part whose loneliness weighed on him. Never again.
- I love you, Hannibal...
- You lie. You never have.
Will falls to the ground and Hannibal holds him so that he does so gently. That part of him still worries. Will he ever stop doing it? He leans Will against the wall and crouches beside him.
- If you'd given me the chance. If you had .... - Hannibal falls silent, raging. You chose, Will, and I'm not that choice. You used me.
- I'm... No... Hannibal...
- You'll feel cold, then you'll go to sleep. I hope wherever you go you'll be happy.
Hannibal caresses Will's bloodied face and leans in for a kiss. The only one, the last one he'll ever have. Will breathes into his mouth and Hannibal hates himself for having to end up like this. He'd give a lot to be able to repeat that kiss. Too much.
- Please...
Will lying on the floor and Hannibal looking down on him. Will's smile in his mind, his words of encouragement in his heart. The day they met, all the talks, discovering each other. All shattered, trampled by Will.
- One day I'll stop loving you. You'll disappear. And I'll be myself again.
Hannibal leaves the house with clenched fists. It rains. He lifts his head to the sky and closes his eyes as thick drops wipe his conscience. What was he going to do without Will? Was there a later?
By the time the ambulance arrives it is too late. Will lies in a pool of his own blood, Hannibal's name still between his lips. The last thing he said in his last breath, the last thought was for him. Because Will loved him, he wasn't lying when he told him so. He was just afraid, and he, who had been dealing with fear for so many years, had succumbed this time. He was afraid of that love, of himself for loving him. And he had chosen accordingly.
Hannibal hadn't killed Will. Will had killed himself.
