I love the contrast of these two scenes. In the first one, Hannibal’s dressed down, he’s brought something simple, he’s trying to break through Will’s defenses. Will takes the food perfunctorily, and then is pleasantly surprised to discover he likes it.
In the second, Hannibal’s full on himself. Here, person with fever and undiagnosed encephalitis, listen to my long story about what I made you.
And contrary to the joke about Will insulting Hannibal’s soup, Will is actually pleased. Touched even.
Wow, I showed up unannounced on your doorstep late at night with an escaped serial killer in tow and had a seizure and let the guy escape and then drove off in your car when you told me to wait while you summoned help. After all that dragging you into my world, you made me chicken soup.
He was numb except for dreading the loss of numbness. Walking with his head down, speaking to no one, he could hear his blood like a hollow drumming of wings. It seemed a very short distance to the outside. This was only a building; there were only five doors between Lecter and the outside. He had the absurd feeling that Lecter had walked out with him. He stopped outside the entrance and looked around, him, assuring himself that he was alone.