Cannibal's kiss (( Hannibal X OOC))

Stranger in the Night

                                                                ~Outside of Hope's Apartment~

                      A man stepped out of the shadows into the spot light glow of a street light that lined the sidewalk. His gaze rose to find the bedroom window on a brick apartment place, the lights were on and he could see the sheer white curtains ruffle in the breeze before being pushed aside to allow more fresh air inside. There against the white painted sill was Hope, hair damp from a shower and adorned in a fluffy white towel that covered a majority of her considerable breasts but the curvature and top was exposed along with the flesh of her creamy pale shoulders leading up to a slender neck arched outwards as she leaned forward to enjoy the chilly breeze. He could just make out the reddened goosebumps that encircled along her bare flesh from the sudden cold. People passed back undisturbed by the sight and hardly noticing the man too wrapped up in there own business, the ones who did glance at him were unnerved by the icy blue eyes underneath that were locked on with one person. All other features hidden by the shadows of a tipped fedora and gray scarf tied around the face just below his eye line. The people skittering off as to not cause any trouble which would often be found roaming the streets late in the night. 

                    Hannibal's nostrils flared in an attempt to catch her scent but was disappointed by the foul aroma of sewage water that bubbled out of the sewers and passersby that gave off the odor of someone with poor hygiene. My how he missed the enriching senses of Paris with their neatly cared for city streets and pleasant vendors selling fresh fruit or flowers with an appeasing scent. However now was not the time to wallow in that desire, eyes focused like a fox waiting for their pray. Hope pushed her wet hair against the shoulder he had bitten ten years ago and traced the spot with her soft finger tips. Staring blankly at the stars above before retreating inside, after a few minutes the lights were off and nothing but darkness came from the apartment. All of his  muscles ceased together in tenseness and he finally moved after what was an hour of patiently waiting. Stalking into a desolate alley way with careful consideration not to get his neatly polished loafers wet in the puddles that pooled along the gravel road. Reaching upwards and coiling his fingers on the rusting ladder of a fire escape and giving it a firm tug feeling the strap that kept it in place give only slightly. One more pull and the nail gave way and the ladder fell with a creaking screech, halting only a few inches from the soft Earth. He tested the end rod by placing one foot and hoisting only about half his weight, pleased to see it did not fall apart and held firmly together despite the ancient contraption probably being severely abused in the past. 

                 Hannibal repeated a similar process with the other two ladders until finally he was at her apartment, he could tell from the faint smell wafting from the ajar window. Gingerly swinging one leg in and placing it on solid carpet followed by another one and then ducking underneath the window frame. The room he entered was dark and he blinked allowing his eyes to become accustomed to the darkness and finally things swam into view. Only being lit up by a silver lighter he had clicked on that gave a dim glow from the flickering flame. Not much to say about it, a living room obviously with a two person couch sat smack dab in the middle and two recliners flanking on either side. In front of the chairs was a glass coffee table that seemed to have open files and spread out papers along the clear surface as well as a card board box. Upon closer inspection the information had a lot to do with him. Pertaining to the time he had spent in the asylum while the box held tapes of interviews they had done together. Dr. Chilton's of course, he wryly smiled at the memory of the fool. The faint screams of pain drifting into his ears, he had deserved it of course but the memory was pleasing all the same. He moved on stepping around the furniture only to falter near the front door noticing the firm workings of a desk. A mahogany one crudely made but sturdy and held on it's surface were several binders and folders containing god knows what. Sifting through them revealed that they either had to do with patients or herself. His eyes landing on a particular one that was labeled 'familiar history' and without a moments hesitation Hannibal lifted it up and stored it away in the safety of an inside pocket. Holding up the light to the other side of the room where there was a raised platform and a dining room table with four or five chairs all formally pushed in around the edges. It had a thin layer of dust collected on the polished surface seeming to suggest it often went unused. Table clothes had been set down on the table in front of each seat and there was a napkin holder towards the middle with salt and pepper shakers perched neatly beside it. All of the decorations would infer that the set up was often used but he knew better. The woman was a workaholic and probably preferred to work while eating which explained drying stains of food along several files and wrappers crumpled up and left underneath the legs of the desk. An amusing thought that twitched up the corners of his lips. Overall it was a well kept home but almost felt empty in comparison to Hope. Lacking the personality that would be brought with knick knacks or decorations like family photos. Which he had noted she hadn't hung up a single one. The walls were barren of anything besides a shelf or two and without the papers spread on every surface one could reasonably guess this place was barren of anyone.