They say that the eye is the window of a soul, I am convinced. I see things quite different sometimes , I am melancholic individual , My friends see me as a blunted person- an introverted psyche. nevertheless my taste are quite odd (and sometimes others see it as a shame and i’m being stigmatized) I can say that this is one of the reasons why i’m special and one of the variables of my worth
Not exactly what you asked for but I tried! Sorry I took so long.
There was a set routine at night for them both: Will would often settle in the living room with the television while Hannibal read a book in the study, The time apart somewhat helped them with the current of unease that seemed to permeate throughout the house nearly every single day despite the pleasantries that they exchanged.
Will knew he wasn’t angry, wasn’t sad, not really.
He just felt very empty.
Thank god for cable.
He watched whatever he could fill his head with: comedies, dramas, and sometimes even foreign confusing things he barely understood but it was better than thinking about what lie ahead.
Everything changed so fast that Will barely had time to focus on the why of it.
Hannibal walked in on him watching a soapy romance and sat down, seemingly watching without comment. He didn’t say a word for the next several minutes, though Will was overly conscious of how close they sat and the warmth between them.
It was the closest they had been since before The Fall.
Will let out a breath, looking at him almost too long to go unnoticed.
“Do you wish for me to leave?”
Will shook his head. “No.”
Hannibal relaxed and settled on the couch, not moving their legs or touching more than he allowed.
After that, Will was never alone on the couch again.
Hannibal started to make snacks, elaborate things like truffle tossed popcorn, homemade salted garlic chips, and once even french fries.
“Fried potatoes are….”
Will grinned, popping the round fried potato in his mouth. “Thanks for the fries.”
Hannibal blushed and Will set his hand on Hannibal’s knee for the rest of Avengers.
Then he decided to pick something Hannibal might enjoy.
“I assure you, Will, I do watch films. It’s not as if I sit in my study surrounded by books shunning western advances. Without advances…”
“You wouldn’t have a torture chamber in the basement.”
Hannibal smirked. “Exactly.”
The film he chose was a romance, set in the 1800s, and full of more desperation than Will had expected it to have. The mains were on the opposite ends of society, one was married, and the other an upper class count who of course knew he could make her happy despite knowing she was already.
It was when the character was rejected that Will froze, noticing Hannibal looking away. “Bored already?”
He turned and Will was surprised to see his eyes were teary. “I am just feeling somewhat melancholic for our past quite suddenly.”
Will sighed, “Hannibal….”
“I am well aware you cannot see me as more than a monster despite any feeling you may have for me.”
Will set his hand on Hannibal’s knee. “Have I ever said that?”
“You don’t have to, Will. I can read it in your face, in the emptiness that fills our days and…”
Will didn’t know what made him kiss Hannibal, not at all, but it felt nice. The warm touch wasn’t dangerous, though he almost thought to accuse Hannibal of feigning vulnerability to lure him in.
Still he didn’t stop, hands coming to rest on Hannibal’s cheeks as the kiss deepened. He pulled back to take a breath, pressing his cheek against Hannibal’s before whispering, “If those were fake tears, you’re getting better at lying to me.”
Hannibal kissed his cheek, nuzzling just enough to make Will shiver. “If they were?”
“I’m not angry, just a little surprised I fell for it.”
Hannibal gently turned his cheek, kissing him again. “I rarely cry fake tears for an audience of one, and if I do that audience will never be you.”
Will smiled, “You know that’s not you, right? I might’ve rejected you once but I’m not going to be doing it a second time.”
Hannibal let out a breath, smile widening as he reached up to caress across Will’s cheek. “Does this mean you’re learning to love the monster or is the monster going to have to walk on quiet claws in hopes to earn more affection?”
Will kissed him again before turning back to the movie, laying his head against Hannibal’s chest. “We’ll see.”
Hannibal’s hand came around him tightly, “Yes, we will.”
I vomit way too much of my negative emotional turmoil on tumblr (I don’t know why I stopped writing it in my journal instead) and rarely anything positive. When I am happy, I have no need to seek a release of the poison that builds in me. I fear it paints an awful picture. I also fear I am far too melancholic and I dwell too much. But I am as I am, and I feel great joy with my great sadness. Tonight was lovely. Tomorrow may be the same.