Hi. I saw you were taking Hannigram requests, and I'd really love to read about Will's internal thoughts when Hannibal surrendered. And what he thought about when he went back inside. Was he sad about it? Did he realize that meant Hannibal loves him? Stuff like that. That would be great, if you're not already flooded with requests. Thank you :)
hey sweet pea :) here you go! Thank you <3 come send me Hannibal/Obikin requests!
And even if it was, it wasnāt.
Will placed a shaking hand on the knob of his door and pushed through to his house that now felt uncharacteristically unlike a home. He looked at the chair Hannibal had sat in only hours ago.
It jerked him around from his stomach, the gaping absence that filled the house, a feeling Will was not expecting. He quickly placed a hand over his mouth, a loud, breathy gasp echoing out of him. He dug his fingers into the side of his cheek and placed his other hand on a bookshelf, so careful to try and keep himself upright.
And it would be very different if Hannibal hadnāt looked right at him, down Willās eyes and into his soul like a boat down the stream. Willās hand tremored over his face, his long sigh now turning into sharp, scared breaths.
Will you slip away with him? Part of me will always want to.
Will slowly made his way down to his knees, the energy to stand leaving his body indefinitely. He placed a hand on the ground to try and keep himself from laying down and sinking into the floor. Hannibal was gone now, taken to suffer an allotted eternity in prison, to have his soul stripped from himself.
A sick part of Will wished that heād touched Hannibal, before.Ā
Maybe he wouldāve touched his face, cupped his cheek in his hand or rolled his fingers down Hannibalās bare arm. Seeing him, knees on the snow, hands behind his head, surrendering, made Will want to touch him.
As long as Will could remember, his heart had been a toy in Hannibalās hand. He couldnāt help but imagine how the roles had been reversed. The way Hannibal had permitted Will to hold his heart, instead. On his knees, lending his freedom to Will like a favorite book. Will ripped his hand from the hardwood floor and placed it on the opposite shoulder. Pulled tight. He would not let himself break over this.
Will thought about touching Hannibal, again. Breaking into the FBI vehicle, cracking the cuffs from his hands and running his fingers over his wrists, his veins. Heād dig his nails deep into his thick skin and ask, terrified, do you love me the way I love you?
Is that what you had intended to tell me?
However much the teacup had shattered, the fragments of it had begun dusting away. Sharp glass pestered through the room the longer Will imagined Hannibalās surrender. He pulled his arm tighter across his chest, thinking heād be sick if he didnāt.
After all this time? Surely not.
If Will had known. If heād known it would have been different. They could have left, together. And if heād known.
Will felt Hannibalās name on his lips, pressing away from his mouth and wanting so badly to be said out loud. Would it be okay, to say his name? Will wondered.
āHannibal-ā Will whispered into his cold fingers. Each syllable felt more indulgent than the last.Ā
And more pressing- why did Will want to chase after him?