✔️ Only I Can Feel You | Hannigram | Rye Ambrose

26

Will sat on the edge of his bed, hair tousled from frustrated tugging. He mulled over the case—the girl and the man; the shrine-like setup; the mixture of powers in the air.

Everytime he closed his eyes, Death's—No. Hannibal's—markings sneered at him, bold and black. Each thought about the messages, or about any of this, taunted Will, jeering of his stupidity.

"I knew all along," he breathed. "And yet, I let him distract me from the truth."

He cursed, leaping forward to punch the wall. He grimaced, knuckles flaring, and huffed, running his hands over his face.

"Hannibal is Death," he shakily whispered. "Hannibal is Death."

Despite the revelation, he didn't feel fear. Rather, an excitement sparked deep in his belly. A vehement, brewing lust that coiled in his stomach.

He swallowed, fingers hovering over his lips.

I kissed Death.

He shook his head, confused with himself, startling when a knock pounded through the door. Will whirled around, brows furrowing, and headed towards the door as he collected himself. Once he swung it open, dread and anticipation pooled in his chest at the same time—a very conflicting feeling.

Hannibal.

Death.

"Will," he greeted quietly, a bottle of wine in his hand. "How nice to see you."
Will's hand tightened around the door, and he thickly swallowed, not knowing what to feel. He stayed silent, staring him straight in the eye, yet Hannibal didn't even waver.

"May I come in?" he asked politely. As if nothing happened. As if he weren't Death himself.

Will clenched his teeth, forcing his feet to step aside. He watched as Hannibal passed through, the rich scent of cologne and Death's scent sweeping past his nose. A delightful scent.

And I was too dumb to realize, thought Will bitterly.

He closed the door and watched Hannibal wander into the room, his coat hanging off him with his usual immaculateness. A tingling desire tugged in him, but he suppressed it, sitting down at the dinner table and keeping his eyes trained on Lecter.

"Not very talkative today, are you," said Hannibal smoothly. Will clenched his fist, toes curling and tongue heavy.

"Leave the wine and get out," he said, keeping his eyes trained on the wood of the table. Hannibal lingered behind him, disappointment bleeding from his aura.

"Very well," he said after a while, softly setting the bottle down on the table. Will swallowed, watching Hannibal head towards the door and open it. He lingered, hand over the doorknob.

"Visit me," he said softly, looking over his shoulder. Will kept his gaze away from Hannibal's, not wanting to see his face. "I'll be waiting."

Will kept his head bowed. "Goodbye, Hannibal," he said into the silence, and the door finally clicked to a close—the sound ringing out like a final goodbye. He finally looked up, chest sinking as he looked at the closed door.

...

"So?" asked Thana, her voice commanding silence in the office. "Was it as expected?"

Hannibal nodded, sitting on the edge of his desk and looking at the horsemen before him—all standing except for Thana and Penelope.

"He was very angry," he said. "Quite harried, too."

Victorum smirked, taking a sip of white wine. "He finally knows," he said, teeth gleaming. "Humans can be so gullible."