Spacious windows, heavy curtains, dark wood, on the wall opposite the bed an oil painting that depicted a snowy forest. Hannibal's room in their shared house was just like Will had imagined.
"Do you trust me, Will?", he questioned while taking a step closer.
Will did not shy away. "I stopped asking myself that. What happens to me just doesn't matter anymore."
"It matters to me." Hannibal paused for a moment and inhaled his scent. "If you stay... Will, I'm going to hurt you."
"Since when does that deter you from doing anything?"
"It should deter you."
"It doesn't."
Hannibal: "Stay with me."
Will: "Where else would I go?" 2.10
