D E V O U R || HANNIGRAM // continuation

Part 10: What You Saw

((Sounds much better now... <3))

Will Grahams' P.O.V

I may have never been the best Father, but the way our son would turn to look at me when he didn't feel all his best when I had instructed him to do so- always got to me, it lead me to speak to Hannibal. Like I would have loved for my Father to speak to me.

Even though Molly and I are seperated. I can't help but feel that Willy and I never will be.

"Turn around, please, and look at me. Will."

I felt the plyers cut me free and I swivel around to face him, hoping he could not see the hurt expression upon my face I feared would be so visible.

"Listen to me," he began, reaching out his hand to touch the base of my knee. At his very touch, my eyes flickered, fluttered open then closed even.

There was something sitting in the back of his head, eyes that clawed and tugged at his neck. Sharp nails dragging hair in an attempt to pull his head back; throat tightening as he felt saliva gagging him, acidic almost. It was a harsh rush of breath from nostrils that soon felt too tight to breathe through and since his lips had been closed- his lungs clenched as airflow flawed, growing to a halt. Will doesn't remember ever being looked at so intensely in his lifetime the way that he felt under observation now; the others eyes were a portal, that if met with his own, would lead him into definite trouble. There was a lump there in his exposed throat and it grew larger by the minute as his brows would curve downward- the cold from outside the window deeming it much easier not to break sweat in the intense stand off. Only one had been nearly hunkered down on the other side of the car; Will. Taut shoulders raised a bit higher than the norm now as Hannibals voice carried out to him, still insisting to be heard.

"Take a breath."

My lungs shuddered, at his command, I inhaled almost involuntarily as though I had no control over my own functions.

There was, again, the peculiar way that he was being watched- two orbs threading into his flesh, burning at the surface of what innocence he tried to reveal. Believe it or not, such little contact was breaking him and it was no surprise, at Wills state of mental exhaustion, that this would be to occur. A slight tremble of hand and a grip of fingers on the brown of pants. Persistive. Take it, please and take it now. This burning in my mind. This urging nightmare. It was all that he could keep thinking, hoping to have stopped talking and that his words would at last settle then odds would meet bigones. He would go back to that room and step away from Hannibal for a while; not likely. Wills eyes closed in near surrender, fearful in a sort of way. It was too much to take, he had second thoughts on letting Hannibal drive the both of them up here and taking what information from the scene at hand to take home with him. He could not help but to feel there was something there at Claridge's. Like a reoccuring lover. He'd get drunk on curiousity, meet and abuse the subject that he oddly found himself in love with. Hannibal Lecter. Had it been the possibility of praising the Criminal? perhaps it could have been or maybe it was just a wish to put an end to the drastic events he has a continual run-in with.

"Close your eyes and count to ten, I want you to wade into the quiet of the stream. Listen to my voice, Will."

With my eyes closed, my lips parted dryly as my tongue danced limp behind my teeth. A faint glow shifted towards me from afar and I felt myself jolt in the seat as though I'd fallen asleep but my breath hitched in my lungs once I approached that dark hole; colliding downward in a quick spiral.