Blood bites | HANNIGRAM

Chapter one | Puppy eyes

Will jolted up in a cold sweat surrounding and seeping into his nightwear,soaking his bedsheets as a reminder of the gut wrenching nightmare fuel that replaced what was supposed to be a dream. He panted and ran his hand down his sweaty face, swallowing as he looked down at his shivering hand. He grunted as he ripped off the comforter and stood up, grabbing his glasses and sliding them up his face as he exhaled deeply. He looked back to his nightstand and saw that it was earlier than he usually woke up. Will sighed and he stepped out of his bedroom, being met with many sleepy yet energetic dogs which he had taken in as his own little "family". But he noticed a rather scruffy looking creature didn't even stir, he rolled his eyes and assumed it was the dog being lazy but as he crouched down and ruffled his hand in the grey fur he felt the dog was as cold as ice and firm as a rock. Wills blood ran cold and he shook the dog, his heart beginning to race when he saw that the dog was dead.
"Bella? Bell!?" He called out from impulse, a faint whimper being heard from one of the other dogs, but that one was most definitely alive. He felt a lump build up in his throat and he shook his head, wiping his face as he muttered small no.. no no no..'s. He knew this would happen eventually, and the thought he wouldn't have the heart to feel when it did, but he felt like someone had stabbed him in the heart and twisted the blade. He suddenly buried his face in his hands feeling tears prick up in the ducts of his eyes. He had seen everything, people dying from a slit throat, people dying from gun shots, people dying from suffocation, people dying from being impaled by antlers, but the death of a dog was way worse than any murder. That's what it felt like atleast. He never cried, not even for the most gruesome scenes he stumbled upon, not even for his own night terrors and worries. But right now he sobbed uncontrollably.

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"My dog died last Wednesday." Will stated as he sat uncomfortably in the leather armchair which stood a few metres away from Dr Lectors, looking away and then to the ground. But Hannibal didn't tear his gaze away once, he stared straight at the man with his cold piercing eyes.
"I'm sorry to hear that." Hannibal stated in his usual monotone and uncaring sounding manner, his hands clasped together politely with one leg crossed over the other elegantly. Will shrugged and he looked back down, not knowing why he brought it up.
"Which dog?" The psychiatrist asked with a head tilt.
"Bella. The old one." Will replied,staring into the ground then back up at the grey haired man.
"It was just her time then." Hannibal stated, sitting up in his chair and staring into his patients eyes, wanting to know what he felt under the nonchalant exterior.
"Dogs aren't immortal, nothing is." Dr Lector added, noticing the look of utter pain in Wills eyes.
"I'm pretty aware." Will snarled, still sensitive from the raw emotion. He soon felt bad for acting so bitter, but he knew he wouldn't have any repercussions.
"How did you react when you found the dog?" Hannibal asked, and Will seemed extremely reluctant to answer. Subsequently no one could take the silence anymore.
"How did you react-" Hannibal leant forward.
"I didn't want to believe it." Will spoke up, his voice sounding hoarse.
"Is.. that all?" Dr Lector asked, an eyebrow raised as he knew Will wasn't being so honest. The patient clenched his jaw and he looked to the window, trying to muster up the courage to say what material he could.
"I kept calling her name, like she was just asleep. She looked... - she looked like she was just sleeping - " Will felt his voice crack slightly, looking up to the ceiling. This made Hannibal nod and lean back, like he was cracking away stone to get to a priceless mineral.
"Then she died peacefully, presumably in her sleep. She was old, like you said earlier." Dr Lector stated, not sympathising with Will but instead encouraging him to say more. Will swallowed and he nodded, hating how he was getting so soppy over the death of one of his dogs but when it came to deaths of actual people he acted like a heartless robot.
"It just sucks." Will muttered, shaking his head and leaning forward with his face in his hands for a few moments. Hannibal blinked and nodded with a tiny smile, his head tilting just a centimetre to the right.
"I could only imagine." The psychiatrist spoke smoothly.
"I don't know what got over me.. I got so emotional over a dog." Will muttered, Dr Lectors eyebrows raising as the chisel grazed against the expensive rock.
"I fucking cried like a puss-" Will wasn't even able to finish his sentence without Hannibal cutting in. Jackpot.
"Crying is human." He paused, staring at Will with a sharp gaze. The patient swallowed and looked away, feeling stupid that he said such a thing infront of a psychiatrist who probably heard many phrases similar.
"You're not any lower than what you are for crying, Will. It's okay to feel negative emotions, I'm sure you are aware I know that." Dr Lector stated, a small partially permeable smirk forming in the corner of his lip. Will exhaled and he looked up, rolling his eyes at the almost unnoticeable smile. He sat back in the chair with a squeak from the leather, crossing his arms and looking away.