Hannibal's POV
"Come on! We're wasting daylight!"
A loud voice broke the silence in my room. A heavy pounding on my door brought my attention away from my book.
"Yes? What do you want?" I asked in annoyance, slamming shut my book and placing it on the desk beside my bed. I was trying to focus on reading. To enjoy myself but I couldn't help but overhear the conversation happening downstairs.
"It's about time we got ready." Came a familiar deep voiced voice. A voice that belonged to someone I despise most in this world. An annoying little pest who thinks he can boss me around and expect me to follow his orders.
"I've already dressed up half an hour ago, so I suggest you save your breath." I growled, not bothering to look up.
That comment did the trick. Almost immediately his footsteps retreated and soon enough a few seconds later there was nothing more than heavy silence.
I sighed and returned my focus to my book.
Once I'd finished it I picked up my journal and headed downstairs. I took the stairs carefully. Knowing exactly which steps to use, making sure not to hit my head on the ceiling, or break anything else, and hoping that I wouldn't slip and fall down the staircase.
I'd done it hundreds of times before. Hundreds of times. More often than not, I'd wake up injured or in excruciating pain after falling from a step. Or worse, broken bones. And once those occurred, the pain was indescribable. It made me question whether I should keep going or not.
It took me a few seconds to reach the bottom of the stairs.
When I saw that everyone was already sitting on the couch, waiting for me to join them, I walked across the living room to get the coffee pot. I poured a cup and filled it as I remembered what the last few weeks had been like during the months following my awakening. It wasn't fun. It wasn't peaceful. Quite the opposite in fact, in all honesty. No one spoke for hours on end. Nothing was said.
Hannibal's POV
"Come on! We're wasting daylight!"
A loud voice broke the silence in my room. A heavy pounding on my door brought my attention away from my book.
"Yes? What do you want?" I asked in annoyance, slamming shut my book and placing it on the desk beside my bed. I was trying to focus on reading. To enjoy myself but I couldn't help but overhear the conversation happening downstairs.
"It's about time we got ready." Came a familiar deep voiced voice. A voice that belonged to someone I despise most in this world. An annoying little pest who thinks he can boss me around and expect me to follow his orders.
"I've already dressed up half an hour ago, so I suggest you save your breath." I growled, not bothering to look up.
That comment did the trick. Almost immediately his footsteps retreated and soon enough a few seconds later there was nothing more than heavy silence.
I sighed and returned my focus to my book.
Once I'd finished it I picked up my journal and headed downstairs. I took the stairs carefully. Knowing exactly which steps to use, making sure not to hit my head on the ceiling, or break anything else, and hoping that I wouldn't slip and fall down the staircase.
I'd done it hundreds of times before. Hundreds of times. More often than not, I'd wake up injured or in excruciating pain after falling from a step. Or worse, broken bones. And once those occurred, the pain was indescribable. It made me question whether I should keep going or not.
It took me a few seconds to reach the bottom of the stairs.
When I saw that everyone was already sitting on the couch, waiting for me to join them, I walked across the living room to get the coffee pot. I poured a cup and filled it as I remembered what the last few weeks had been like during the months following my awakening. It wasn't fun. It wasn't peaceful. Quite the opposite in fact, in all honesty. No one spoke for hours on end. Nothing was said.We simply sat in tense silence, staring blankly at everything that moved without really looking at it. We ate without appetite. We went out without thinking and didn't even realize we weren't actually taking any action. We slept without dreams. I slept without nightmares. They all lied awake at night, tossing and turning as their hearts raced. I lay awake thinking about everything and nothing at all.
Sometimes I wish I could forget what happened. Sometimes, I longed for death. Maybe even death would come sooner than later. At least then it would be quick.
I was startled out of my thoughts by a hand gently squeezing my shoulder.
The touch was soft. Loving.
Almost too loving.
Too... comforting.
"Are you alright?" The owner of the hand asked me in concern. "You seem a bit distracted today."
He released his hold on my shoulder and gave it a small, awkward pat.
I ignored him. Pretended I couldn't hear him. Refused to respond. Refused to acknowledge the fact that he knew about the events leading up to my arrival here. Not that he deserved the acknowledgment anyway. After all he's done to me, he deserves none.
"I hope I haven't caused any trouble while I was gone." He commented
If I didn't know better, I might have thought he was asking if he had.
"No," I answered curtly. "You did no such thing."
"Oh good." He breathed a sigh of relief. "Good! Good..." he repeated. "Because it turns out that my plan has worked splendidly."
I looked at him with disbelief.
What does he mean it had worked splendidly?
Before I could ask anything, he interrupted my thoughts again.
"Do you remember what I told you that day?" He asked. "About getting to meet him?"
I nodded. Yes. I remember. That's the only reason I agreed to let him bring him over. If I hadn't, he probably wouldn't have let me go. He wouldn't have believed in me in the first place, seeing as I wasn't capable of being strong enough to survive without him. That's the truth. I don't know why I agreed with him.But somehow I knew he wouldn't allow me to die. I wasn't certain why though. Perhaps it was because I trusted him completely and couldn't imagine my life without his constant guidance. Either way, it had been worth it. I owed him my life. My very existence depended on the knowledge that he had saved me.
However he still hasn't explained why he would want him back so much.
I'm not stupid. I know what he means by 'getting to meet' him. He wants me to get close to him in order to kill me so he could steal the cure.
He doesn' t love me. Never will. I'm sure of that now. I'll never be enough for him. Sooner or later his love will run dry.
But that's the thing. His love isn't running out. He has yet to find another. He hasn't found another human yet. He will soon. That much I can tell from the way he looks at me sometimes. From the way he holds onto my arm when he says something particularly affectionate, from the way he kisses my forehead whenever he gets angry.
I can see it now. How he has found another human that shares his feelings for him.
