Yearn | Hannigram

black sea

Will was watching rain hit the window. He was sipping on plastic cup full of beer. He hated airplanes. His ears popped and headaches became unbearable. He was trying to drain out the chorus of crying babies and announcements with headphones. Even in the first class seat Hannibal had bought him, Will was tense and overwhelmed. If only he felt safe enough to drink himself to sleep, but he couldn't.

So far above the sea, and in the light of day he could really see it this time. The grey light of the sun far behind the clouds made the ocean dark and colorless. Black as pitch and crashing violently.

      Will could imagine his body slipping through the floor, out the plane and falling. Wing whipping his hair, feeling his heart swell and his throat close in fear. Crashing into pure black, freezing waves. Sinking deeper and deeper, cradled by void, feeling it fill his skull and his lungs. His head finally quiet as he watches the fading sunlight disappears until there's nothing at all.

      Will snapped out of it when the pilot made a grainy announcement. He tried to pull himself back to reality. He was sweating, and chugged the rest of his drink. He imagined Hannibal on his plane, drinking wine and having playful conversations with the attendants.

Will missed him, this surely would be easier with Hannibal at his side. Everything was easier. Will knew that their relationship was toxic to say the least, but Hannibal completed him. His entire life, he saw his empathy as a curse. He was always sure that some he would be doomed to the same fate as his father. Settle down south, alone and drunk until he gave up and swallowed a bullet.

      Now that he's tasted blood, Will knows he would much rather drown with Hannibal by his side than give up on everything they had built together. He would rather have Hannibal, in all his horror, than imagine his monster being locked away, completely alone. They were meant to die together wrapped in gore and roses. If he ever lost Hannibal, Will knew he'd die by his own hand.

      Will clearly didn't belong in first class, but he did his best as playing the part. Fixing up his shirt and playing on his phone. Nothing could distract him from his fear, he couldn't swallow the dread of what may happen once they arrive back in Baltimore. How they could possibly get away from it all.

Scotland was beautiful and their kill was godlike. Will saw it when he closed his eyes, that hollow chest and full moon. Smelled the booze wafting off the boy's blood. Tearing into him and giving sacrifice to their first trip. Shadows of trees, Hannibal swallowing Will's flesh, the way it tasted when they kissed. His heart had never been so sure, Hannibal was all he needed. If they could make it out together, everything could be perfect.

But it was not perfect. Will still has his lies and his fears, there is still so much work to do before they can have their bloody elopement. Will had to wait, but he couldn't stop thinking of how to avoid Jack and anyone he may have let in on the Randall Tier situation.

      It becomes clearer and clearer as he gets closer to the east coast. He sees only suffering in their future. He sees Jack dead and Hannibal abandoning him. Will tried to think of every possibility, anything that could stop the inevitable.

      There was only one option now, and that was clear.

      Will has to die.

—-

      Will's dogs greeted him eagerly, the neighbor had been feeding them but by their whining it sounded like she hadn't bothered to this morning. Will cut up some sausage that Hannibal put in his freezer for them and mixed it with their dry.

      He took a shower while they ate, changed and went back downstairs to let the dogs out. Smiling as they all ran by his feet. He smoked a cigarette on the porch as they played. Still nauseous with anxiety, he wanted nothing more than to be curled up in Hannibal's arms. But he is lying to the monster he loves, and he knows it can't end well.

      More than anything Will just hopes they can go back, Virginia feels so empty now that he's known the comfort of Hannibal's hands constantly on him for day's on end. The feeling of walking down cobblestone streets hand in hand under orange street lights. Drinking champagne in the back of a limo taking them away from the city to their love nest. Hannibal tasted Will's flesh, and Will wanted the same. He wanted Hannibal to be a part of him as well.

      The couch felt cold when his bare thighs pressed against it.  This house was loosing its warmth and Will no longer felt stable being alone. Before all of this, before Hannibal, Will had buried himself between these walls. Lost his mind in the maze that this small cottage became when his brain was set on fire.

      Hannibal may have set that fire but in the end, they both were wrong. At each other's neck, trying to one up the other without realizing they are a perfect match. Will hates himself for being so oblivious to what they could've been. If he had realized sooner, Jack would never have been involved and they could've escaped together without all of this stress.

      He gave up and went to bed, which proved itself fruitless. With Hannibal they ran through the woods like wolves looking for prey, fucked until Will was so dead he slept dreamless. As soon as they were separated, his insomnia returned.

      Fear was hot in his chest and Will knew he needed to come clean but he couldn't bring himself to do it yet. He was so afraid he would hurt Hannibal, if he had the capability to be hurt. And honestly, the closer they get, the less Will believes Hannibal is a classic sociopath. If he could love he could be hurt. And Will knew, even if it's in some fucked up way, Hannibal was in love with him.