#das-mannlein

Continued from [ xx ] 

Instinctive did not always mean intentional. In fact her response had been completely unplanned and by being unplanned had been reckless. The moment the knife nicked his flesh her breath caught. Panic filled her insides. Not even fear of what Hannibal would do to her, but the sudden realization that she had been prepared to hurt him. Something that she was almost sure she really hadn’t wanted to do. 

His hand closed around her wrist and her blue eyes were anxiously darting from the cut on his cheek, to his hand on her wrist, and to his eyes. She was searching for some sign of rage on his relatively calm demeanor. His lips had curled into that grin and she let out the smallest of breaths almost resembling a laugh. Was he amused? 

“If I had intended to actually harm you, I would have...” Her voice was soft. She almost flinched as her back collided gently with the wall behind her. She closed her eyes for a moment, partly awaiting her punishment. Would today be the day he killed her? She could feel his breath against her ear and neck. Her pulse jumped as the knife was freed from her grasp. Her eyes slowly opened, meeting his gaze once again. If he was going to stab her, she wanted to see it. 

FEET POUND THE GROUND WITH EVERY STRIDE as she runs throughout the trail. Her heart pounds in her chest, rampant like birds trapped in a cage they wished not to be in. Much like Starling was, trapped in a particularly bad odour --- as Lecter put it --- with the FBI. John Brigham was dead, and her reputation with the Bureau is stained by the blood of Evelda Drumgo, by the trashy tabloids who would pay good money to get as much material on the agent as possible. 

She runs, not only to stay in shape, but in order to somehow quell the chaos around her, to escape her own misgivings, if only just for a while. As she runs, she feels eyes on her, as if someone was, perchance coveting her. Sweat dripped hair whips around, hitting her cheek as she turns to look behind her but she does not stop running not quite yet. No one was there - no one that she could see, at least. But this did not soothe her all too nagging feeling, the one that rises from deep within her gut; the one that tells her she’s not alone. Looking ahead once more, she continues to run, picking up her pace a bit. Muscles scream as she moves, but she welcomes it.

[ @das-mannlein​ ]

There was never an inappropriate time for Bedelia to find herself flocking toward the bathtub. Any form of strong emotion or need to think brought her here to the peace and comfort of the warm water with a hint of eucalyptus. Now, it was early. The sun hadn’t even begun to peak over the horizon just yet, but she found herself unable to sleep any longer. She often found herself suffering from nightmares. In spite of the fact she took a long bath before bed, the water was now running again.