Like Zeus and Ganymede, so had Hannibal fallen in love with a human being. As the mythological story goes, he planned to abduct him, ascend with him to the heavens and make him his lover. Who knows, maybe in time and if he is worthy, he would grant him a glimpse of immortality. To share a lifetime, if it came to that.
For Hannibal was an Angel, though he himself considered the word a misnomer. It had been so many years since he had behaved like one that he liked to call himself a fallen Angel. A being between two dualities who acted out of pure convenience. Hannibal was master of himself and boasted of it.
The man's name was Will Graham. Young in Hannibal's eyes, middle-aged in the mortal world. On one of his escapades to Earth he recognised him - Hannibal, like any Angel, saw the aura of people - as he walked through the crowd looking as if he wanted to hit someone. He was simply smitten with him.
He folded his wings - grey as time went by and not white - and, in his human guise, followed Will to the nearest coffee shop. He sat far enough away to let Will have his own space, but also close enough for him to spot him.
He did, minutes later, as he waited for an order that never seemed to come. He fixed his blue eyes on Hannibal, and Hannibal knew he never wanted any other eyes to look at him again. He decided right then and there to make it his own.
Hannibal spent too much time on earth every day for Will. Same face of wanting to tell the world to fuck off, same hurried steps all the way to the cafeteria. They didn't say a word, but they didn't need to. Hannibal descended to earth as he ruminated that today would be the perfect day. Longing consumed his insides.
- Do you believe in Angels, Will? - he asks, approaching for the first time.
A phrase on the lips of a man whose appearance was too appealing. Will smiles and his eyes match that smile.
- Do you believe in you, whoever you are?
How bold. Hannibal, if he had a heart, would have felt it in his chest pounding like a drum.
- Of course he would. If you'll allow me, I'll show you something no human has ever seen.
Will arches his eyebrow. No human?
- I don't know who you are.
- Hannibal," he hastens to answer. And you're Will.
- How ....?
- I tend to absorb as much as I need of what interests me. And you, young man, you interest me too much.
- What are you, some kind of cult leader? Do you capture people or what?
- I don't understand a word you're saying. Tell me, Will, are you coming or not?
Hannibal places his hand palm up. An invitation, his first invitation. Other Angels before him had fallen in love with mortal women and men, none of them lived long enough to understand what had happened.
The two of them would be different, Hannibal would be different.
- I work for the FBI, Hannibal. There's no way in hell I'm going with you to who knows where to do who knows what.
- We'll make love, young man. We'll make love and you'll ascend with me beyond a Heaven and a Sun whose names mankind has forgotten. I will love you until your body says enough, until your mortal soul asks to stop, and only then will I decide your fate.
- You sound like a madman, a depraved man. Goodbye, Hannibal. Don't come near me again.
Hannibal's amber eyes watch Will walk out the door, quizzical. He's been honest, I thought humanity appreciated honesty. He should have practised the art of communication more, for the Angels did not use words to speak to each other.
He gets up and follows Will, knowing exactly what he must do. A few steps away Will walks steadily and quickly. One street, turn, straight again. By the time it's time he's heading to work, to that place called the FBI. An avenue, Hannibal crosses without paying attention to the traffic. He can't die anyway, he already did it hundreds of years ago.
- I shouldn't have asked you," he says to Will, hugging him from behind when they are in an empty alley. I never take no for an answer.
Hannibal takes off his shirt and spreads his huge wings. Will turns just enough to see that he is naked, and that he himself is naked in a situation so Dantean he thinks he's dreaming.
- My name is Will Graham," he muses, "it's 09.15, I'm in Baltimore, Maryland.
- You have a nice voice, Will Graham," she whispers in his ear. I can't wait to hear what it sounds like when you moan under my touch.
- I'm dreaming. I'm dreaming, I just have to wake up - Will pinches his arms to no avail.
- No, beloved. But you'll dream, and I'll own all your dreams from now on.
A kiss on the neck and seven are the right words whispered into Will's heart to make him fade. Hannibal takes him in his arms, looks both ways down the street and slowly begins to fade.
He smiles. An Angel should not spend eternity alone, and Hannibal had chosen a companion at last.
