XVI.The Charge of the Lancers

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Umberto Boccioni1915____

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Umberto Boccioni
1915
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"WHERE are you going?" Hannibal Lecter asked before his lover could walk down the hall. His eyes scanned her clothes up and down, average ones, probably the market.

"To the market." She replied, but felt something strange in his voice. "Want me to buy you something?"

"I'd like to speak to you first."

"Can it wait after-"

"No. Now." He demanded. She blinked a bit surprised, but with no other suspicions did as he asked.

He indicated for her to sit down, he appearentely had prepared some tea for them both, he wouldn't let her get away from the conversation so easily. As Alice sat down he brought in the two teacups carefully, the smell invaded her nose, it was different, something exotic. Hannibal only watched, waiting for her to taste it.

Alice coughed, almost choked when the liquid came down her throat as some sort of distillation of a dozen cough drops, strong and obliterating any previous taste in her tongue.

She pushed the cup away from her, as Hannibal calmly watched her suffer to rush and get some water, attempting to get rid of the bitter taste.

"What...what is this...?" She mumbled, taking the second water cup down her throat.

"Chinese herbal tea kuding cha." He spoke calmly, drinking his own tea so easily that Alice couldn't almost believe it. "You don't like it?"

"You know I don't like bitter tea." She replied, as he could sense some irritation in her voice. Alice sat down, observing his passive agressive stance. She knew that look. "What did I do now?"

"Did you do something?" He asked numb.

"I don't know. You're doing that face." She rest her arms above the resiliant glass dining table, as she observed their conflicted reflections. "That face you do when you're displeased by something."

"Do I make a face?"

"Almost unoticeably but yes, you do." She leaned foward. "What happened?"

Hannibal rest the teacup down. Adjusting his posture at the comfortable chair as he observed his fiancé. She seemed so pure, so angelic. The hair tied up in an innocent ponytail with colorful ribbons, the beige dress simple, but with some details in lace, the shoes a bright sparkling red.

"What was your relationship with Will Graham in college?" He asked, staring into those green to blue jewels.

"...Will? Why are you asking about him?" She furrowed her eyebrows. "I thought we moved past this."

"So did I."

She became uncomfortable with his stance, almost as if he accused her that she was guilty of some crime. "I already told you what happened, I didn't kiss him-"

¹𝘾𝙃𝙄𝘼𝙍𝙊𝙎𝘾𝙐𝙍𝙊 | Hannibal Lecter✓Where stories live. Discover now