Fluffy hannigram! Will saying I love you for the first time? (After realizing it - while watching Hanni being domestic?) Maybe he even says Aš tave myliu? :3
Takes place in some other world, just before their last supper in Mizumono…
“I love you,” said Will.
Hannibal was chopping carrots and his knife stilled midway through. It fell from his hand, still lodged near the leafy green end.
“You don’t mean that.”
Hannibal wiped his hands down the front of his apron and turned his gaze from Will. “I assure you, such cruelty is not necessary.”
Will breathed in deep and slow, gripping the edge of the counter. “I lied to you about Freddie Lounds.”
“I know. I would have suggested a less cloying perfume.”
Will’s heart didn’t race, though he wanted it to. That frantic, grounding thump against his ribs. “I won’t make excuses. I thought i was doing the right thing. And I was.”
Hannibal’s fingers played along the handle of his knife. He tugged the carrot from the end and stabbed the blade down into the cutting board. “And what am I to do with this now?”
“The lies? Or the fact that I love you?”
“Are they not one and the same?”
Will braved the trip around the counter, counting each step along the way. He stood before Hannibal, palms upturned, meeting his eyes in perfect honesty. “I want to leave with you. Now. It doesn’t matter where we go.”
Hannibal’s mask began to crack, tears threatening in the corners of his eyes. “You expect me to believe you won’t tell Jack Crawford where we go?”
One more step, and Will was close enough to reach out and touch Hannibal. A simple brush of fingers against the back of his hand. “Why would I do that?”
“Perhaps your cruelty knows no bounds. Perhaps this is the reckoning you were promised to.”
Will wrapped his fingers around Hannibal’s wrist, felt the blood pumping there. “Do you love me?”
“Then trust me, in spite of the lies. And I’ll trust you, in spite of…”
Hannibal took Will’s face in one steady hand. In the corner of Will’s eye, the knife glistened. How quickly Hannibal could reach for it. Instead, Will was being pulled forward until his lips met Hannibal’s. The kiss was sweet as the edge of a blade, aching for blood.
“After dinner,” Hannibal said, breaking the kiss, “there’s something I would like to show you.”
“Are you going to kill me?” Will smirked. Free, finally, of his burden.
“Trust me,” Hannibal said, punctuating his words with a kiss, “just as I trust you.”
i hope that one day we aren’t sad. i hope that all of us get out of the bad spaces we’re in and end up happy with life. i hope that someday, near or far, we end up loving ourselves like we’ve only ever dreamed we could. i hope we end up living the way that people are supposed to live. i hope we are content. i hope we are safe.
(I have been thinking a lot lately about monsters in human skin. Everything I am in both body and mind, to someone I loved and trusted for so long, in the end was monstrous. Even the things of which I’m capable in creative contexts have been treated as such for as long as I can remember; nobody reads so fast, absorbs so much, writes so relentlessly, sleeps so little, mimics so fluently. I have been fascinated by human monsters in fiction, or even just human-shaped ones, for as long as I can remember. For me, even angels and demons and ghosts fall into this category. Tell me long enough that I will never be like you, and I will turn and turn until maybe it’s even true. But I am not the monster you make of me; I am the monster, immovable and resplendent, that I choose.)