| A #Hannigram photo story
#Fannibals #Hannibal |
Hannibal had Will.
Will had Hannibal.
That was how it was supposed to be.
They had their ups and downs, like any couple.
But their downs often turned violent. They would joke that they'd "be the death of" each other.
Until, one day, it happened.
Hannibal wasn't careful enough.
He only meant it to be a superficial wound, then they would make up, and he'd patch up his beautiful boy once more.
But it wasn't to be.
Will's blood poured from him as Hannibal held him close, trying to keep him inside himself where he would be safe.
Will breathed his last on the kitchen floor.
Hannibal would spend a lot of time at the cemetery. Needed to be close to his beloved.
But his arms needed to hold someone, his lips to touch soft lips again.
He needed a Will, in body if not in mind.
He seduced Alana, hoping her dark hair and soft skin would make his arms, and bed, feel less empty.
But Will's presence made him know that she wasn't the right fit.
Alana suspected something wasn't quite right with Hannibal, and after tormenting herself to work out the right course of action, she decided to confront him.
Alana's life ended on the front stoop of Hannibal's house.
She hadn't been enough to be his Will.
But he wouldn't give up.
Fleeing to Europe to avoid repercussions for Alana's death, he met a young man with features similar enough to Will as that he could take him from behind and almost imagine it was his love writhing in front of him.
But it didn't last. The younger man prattled on and on.
Far too much for Hannibal to filter him out.
He turned him into a shrine to the one he lost, placed in the chapel where Hannibal had proposed to Will with a ring hidden in an origami heart.
Would he ever be happy again? Would anyone be able to fill the empty space in his heart?
He was losing hope when a young investigator came knocking.
She was very different from Will, but reminded Hannibal of him all the same. Perhaps she could become his Will, in time?
He would need to keep her safe while he worked on moulding her to fit his needs.
He put her away, delicately, lovingly. He didn't want to hurt her. He was sure she would understand.
But she couldn't tell him if she did, as he took her tongue first.
Piece by piece, he would make this young thing into a form deserving of Will's legacy.
Carving her like marble.
He would take his time.
He would find his Will in her, no matter how deep he had to dig. |end|
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