Angel's Sojourn: Hannibal x Reader x Will

Chapter 13. Mille-Feuille

You soon find yourself at a sudden loss for words as Doctor Lecter leads you through the spacious parking lot and are met with the dazzling visual of his luxurious Bentley Arnage T. He smiles at your expression, eyebrows raised in comical surprise, your mouth falling open just the slightest bit. You try to find an appropriate thing to say in order to do the luxury car sitting in front of you justice, but once again you are merely grasping at straws.

"Um... Wow." You stutter as Dr. Lecter smiles, obviously pleased with your reaction. It was, in all honesty, the best he could have hoped for. Unbeknownst to you of course, Hannibal just loves to watch you grow flustered, especially when that particularly lovely shade of pink begins to creep it's way into your flesh. He is watching it now, a subtle smile lacing his Grecian lips as he studies your form at it's most relaxed since he'd first made your acquaintance.

"What do you think?" He asks, genuinely curious. You look over at him and grin.

"I think I chose the wrong profession." You say and shrug, looking at the vehicle disbelievingly. He laughs at this, nodding approvingly.

"For what it's worth, I think you would have made a good therapist." He says as he reaches into his suit pocket for a ring of keys. He opens the passenger side door first, waiting politely for you to come around and take it before he moves to enter the drivers seat.

You stand awkwardly by the open door as he swiftly takes a seat and dutifully buckles up. A sudden thought enters your head as you move to follow suit and you straighten back up immediately, unable to shake the feeling that you are about to cross some sort of invisible boundary. This is of course, a wild exaggeration. After all, Doctor Lecter doesn't seem the type to just go breaking rules on the fly like this. And besides, even if there is some sort of boundary, he had invited you to cross it, hadn't he? If getting into your therapists car was not an acceptable thing to do as a patient, he would not have offered. Right?

"Is this...okay? for us to do?" You ask him shakily, your hand still gripping the door handle, knuckles white in anticipation. "I mean, I don't know... would Alana be okay with this?" You finish carefully, as if voicing your suspicions might somehow offend him.

"Are you?" He asks, leaning over in his seat to look up into your eyes, his long arm slung gracefully over the inner console. His question lingers in the air as you stutter trying to find an answer.

"I-I don't know what you mean..." You stammer, further losing your conviction with each word that slowly falls from your tongue. You know now, for a fact, that this is something your new employers would doubtless disapprove of. Though Doctor Lecter's innocent smile says otherwise, and you find yourself being convinced that you weren't doing anything out of the ordinary.

"As my patient, you set the tone- the pace for each of our sessions. This is the same, Y/N. What happens now is completely up to you." The way your name drips off the end of his tongue has you consenting within seconds. You can't help feeling like there's some sort of secret meaning hidden in this declaration, hidden in his very particular choice of words.

You sit down anyway and close the door behind you in one fluid motion, swallowing hard as his haunting gaze finally becomes level with your own. He smirks knowingly as he pulls away from you, but not before you capture the slightest glimpse of his eyes flicking down to your lips, though you must have imagined it. You must have. The alternative just seems much too improbable for that kind of hope, and as Doctor Lecter pulls out of the lot and drives down the street you become more and more sure that you had imagined it.

His eyes for the most part of the next five minutes stay glued to the road, though his driving is near perfect and probably wouldn't suffer if he were to do otherwise. You occupy yourself with staring at your hands in your lap and waiting for him to say something, anything. Even a nonchalant remark about the weather would be enough to put you at ease.