"Is it going to last?" The older man asked softly as his eyes turned into light when crashed with the dark depths of ocean waters; when splashed by that enormous wave of blueness he had come to adore so much. "You?" The brunet enquired with a crack in his voice, which could be a sign of meaningless quavering or a thunder hidden underneath the crack, waiting for a friendly storm in his awakened darkness. "You and I. The continuum of your crime and my time of dying," Hannibal answered quietly.

“Love is a psychological and physiological phenomenon, made of synapses and hormones, endorphins and dopamine receptors, pheromones, experiences, commonalities, mutual attraction. Not the muscle of the heart. Inexact metaphor. Designed for poetry, not accuracy.” First person, present tense story told from Sherlock's point of view. Written in early 2011, prior to series 2.