Hannigram stories

"What?"

"This is lit AF," Hannibal said, calmly taking a sip of his tea.

The entire house was calm this particular evening, dogs barking and yipping only at one unfortunate sales man or the next, but calm. In this exact moment however, time seemed to have fucking stopped for when Will and Abigail looked up at the ex surgeon, even the dogs seemed to have stopped breathing.

The doctors tea was new and smelled exotic and unfamiliar, a custom blend of herbs, with mint and mango and a dash of cinnamon dancing alien on Wills tongue and olfactory senses.

Will choked on his tea as though he had swallowed tadpoles when he heard the comment slip by his husband's lips without a bat of an eye.

Hannibal had been scrolling through either Twitter or Tattlecrime the moment he said it, and somehow continued swiping and reading without another glance. Abigail looked up from her new book, her recently developed (thankfully) mental 'Person Suit' was sewn tight on her expression, hiding any clue to her adoptive fathers unwarranted comment.

Will took a deep inhale of the burnt umber colored tea in his delicate china cup, taking a cautionary sip of the warm liquid. He didn't smell any pot or drugs, none recognizable from his collage days at least, and looked up at his partner with a crinkled expression and confusion woven clear in his eyes. He took a small sip of the herbal water soup, before responding after a minute of dead housed silence.

"What?"