WILL GRAHAM x ALANA BLOOM (sorta???) x FEM READER
"Betrayal and forgiveness are best seen as something akin to falling in love."
- Hannibal Lecter
When glancing the other way...
The office outside of my room is buzzing, I cannot think. Jack Crawford is up in Minnesota with The Chesapeake Rippers daughter, he says he is helping her get her memory back from the several waves of shock she has received. But I personally wonder if he's just trying to earn her trust, and get an in-depth explanation for her fathers crimes.
My computer screen is bright, the words on it are just scribbles to me at this point. My coffee is cold, and my hands are cramped. I clocked in at seven in the morning, and am still sitting here around the time of nine at night. I glance to the corner of my computer screen and feel exhaustion bite down harder on my brain.
*Knock*
*Knock*
I look up from my computer, fixing my posture. "Come in!" I call out to the person on the other side of my door, quickly fixing up the paperwork on my desk. I make the papers fit perfectly beside my computer, and just as the door opens, my almost out of ink pen drop perfectly into the first open drawer of my desk.
Her dark blue eyes are instantly on mine, my hand instinctively pushes a strand of my hair behind my right ear. The papers in her hair are held with a purple paperclip, soon slipped off my her smooth hand.
She closes the door behind herself, and smiles. "My guess is that you've never met me before, but my name is Dr. Bloom. I'm the forensic psychologist downstairs." Her teeth are perfectly aligned, a tint of yellow. All natural.
When you meet someone, you don't know if they will play a massive role in your life, or are a background character that comes in and out at certain points. Dr. Blooms presence is strong, yet her identity is nothing.
"You'd guess right." I nod, watching her set the papers down on the front of my desk. She observes my room, going over the pictures on my walls and the little trinkets on my desk.
Dr. Bloom crosses her hands over her lower stomach, making her body small. I can still acknowledge her curved hips and perfectly mixed features. I rest my elbow on my desk, resting my cheek in my palm. I look up at her, admiring silently. "Jack said I can drop off my paperwork to you, because of him not being here. And plus, he doesn't trust the new profiler quite yet." I feel pride rise in my mind, an emotion I myself am not known to feel.
"Oh, that's good to know." I wonder if my (suit / sweater and jeans / suit and skirt ) looks appealing to her, if my makeup stands out in my dark room, or if my hair makes her wonder what products I use.
And suddenly, an image clicks in my mind. Her bold face in a full super market, a plastic basket around her arm. Her hair up in a bun, half way zipped up sweater and grey sweat pants. It looked as if she had just gotten done with a morning jog.
"I've seen you down town, but I didn't know you worked here. Small world, huh?" I try to chuckle, but it comes out as a soft giggle. I take a split second to cringe at myself, but feel Dr. Blooms eyes on me and I look up at her with a warm chest. Such a compelling woman with brown hair, and blue eyes, surely I would've noticed her working with the unit, right?
"Maybe, we could accidently meet down at the old coffee shop?" My eyes widen, and I try to stay composed. Her upper suit is dark as her skirt fits the design of her upper body, the tights that she wears are black, but I can still see her pale skin underneath if I wanted to. So many tiny holes, build up one full object.
"Are you asking me out, Dr. Bloom?" I whisper with a smile, and she nods. The I watch patiently slips me her card, cold from sitting with the assumed other five cards in her purse. I gently grasp the thick white piece of paper with my finger tips, her personal phone number on the left side. Scanning it with my eyes, I find that her name is Alana. Glancing up at her, she watches me pretend to be vulnerable. In my mind I shrug to myself, she looks like an Alana Bloom.
"No, just a simple coffee." I catch my heart before it shatters, the wink of her right eye lets me mentally sigh in relief.
"Sounds like a treat I'll be looking forward to." And she nods, and waves, and walks away. The closing of my door signals that I am alone, but not for long.
remember to vote guys the views and the no votes just doesn't itch my brain right
pov me if i was hannibal
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