Authors Notes - Hello there, this story is going to be one big unhealthy relationship~3

With that said please enjoy!

I own nothing

Not. Beta. Read.

OoOoO

"Maybe now we can reach some agreement," Nigel smiled, it was twisted and wrong and nothing meant to be so cheery with that much blood sprayed across his retro bowler shirt. "Now that you have a better understanding of the position I seem to find myself in."

The man in question groaned, choking on his own blood and vomit as he coughed to breath within the plastic bag gripped tight around his head. Nigel gave that bag another twist, pulling it tighter to drag the gasping man to his feet. "I've given you more than enough warning to get the fuck out of Bucharest Charlie and I've more than made myself fucking clear on the topic of my darling Gabi. I'm afraid I simply can't find it within myself to forgive your trespasses any longer." he shrugged, lightly tapping the barrel of his tokarev TTC semi auto to the side of the gasping man's face, "It's time I took my dues from that squeaking cunt of yours."

"Le-ave Gabi alone, y-you greasy f-uck…" The man with his head in a bag wheezed, fingers slipping as they gripped the hand that held him so tight by the plastic around his neck.

The bad man tsked shaking his head as he pushed Charlie back into a hole, one freshly dug by the one spitting blood and vomit with a gun to his head and the promise of Gabi's freedom from Nigel.

"Charlie my boy, you keep forgetting one essential fact." He stepped away from the hole, back and out of sight to leave Charlie with the sound of a car door and a voice he hadn't wanted to hear.

"Nigel," Gabi gasped her face streaked with tears as her husband carried her struggling form into view, hands fastened behind her back and ankles tied to keep the beautiful woman still. "Nigel please what are you doing?"

He held her close, easing her to her feet to ignore the groans of protest sounding from behind as he helped the woman of his desires keep her balance. "Gabi is my wife," He smiled with a gentle voice meant all for her, combing back a lock of soft copper colored hair to grip the silky tresses by their root when she jerked to pull away, "until fucking death do us fucking part." Crushing her lips in a bruising kiss he cupped the smooth curve of her angel ass, squeezing the familiar mound before pushing her back into the hole with a rough shove to land on top of Charlie.

Licking his lips as though cleaning them of her taste he aimed the tokarev, heaving a sigh as he watched the pair struggle, "My darling Gabi, I hope that when next we meet you'll have learned a little better commitment," he ignored her screams, firing a shot to take the beautiful woman between the eyes before turning his sights to Charlie, "and you Charlie, I warned you boy, that everything could turn to blood in the blink of an eye." He popped the clip, reloading it with a fresh one and drawing the barrel, an action done solely for show, " Limbo ends here." His smiled only grew as he watched frightened eyes widen as they stared down the barrel of a gun.

Nigel was death and this crusted piece of piss had just bought a ticket to Charon's ferry ride.

OoOoO

Still riding the thrill of a day made bloody with broken bones and spraying blood Nigel entered the beautiful condo of his Bucharest home with a bottle of single malt scotch in one hand and a fist full of mail in the other, kicked the door shut behind him before he toed off his shoes and walked the short distance from his entrance to his kitchen.

The bottle of scotch, a gift from his good friend Darko to help him through his time of grieving, Nigel deposited on the counter grabbing a glass from the cupboard and a set of onyx whiskey rocks from the freezer. He poured himself two fingers of the amber liquid and tossed it back before turning his attention to flicking though a small pile of bills at hand, reading the name of the debtors he dropped the envelops onto the counter one by one for later payment, even big fish had to pay to keep the water running.

He paused as he came to one envelope different from the rest, its paper containing a higher thread count than most people's bed sheets. With his address scrawled in all too familiar loops of writing on the fine stationary Nigel dropped his remaining mail to be leafed through again later, a wicked grin pulling the corner of the bad man's thin lips as he read the return address. Pouring himself another three fingers of Glenfiddich he walked with the glass and letter to drop onto his couch, sinking into the leather sofa as he regarded his mail. "And what do you have for me today?"

Glass in hand he took a deep swallow of the well-aged scotch, tasting the smooth flavors of honey and tarragon that lingered on his pallet as he slipped a thumb under the envelopes edge to tear the thick paper open, pulling from it several folded sheets of equally heavy writing paper that might have been better described as parchment. Unfolding the thick sheets Nigel found he couldn't suppress the grin that split his face, the first page a sketch sent from his brother.

It was beautiful as all Hannibal's sketches were, drawn with soft lines to show the flow of wispy curls caught in sun light and soft lips gently parted as though begging to be touched. Digging his phone from his pocket Nigel pressed the speed dial for his twin, taking another drink of scotch as he let the pad of his thumb run along the scruff drawn jaw of an angel who's eyes never seemed to focus on him.

"Hannibal," He smiled as the familiar voice of his brother sounded through the receiver. "Wanted to let you know I got your letter," he drank again in the delicate strokes that had recreated the beautiful man depicted before him like a renaissance masterpiece, "and the sketch you sent with it. Is this Will Graham, that patient you keep telling me about?" The patient he kept asking him about.

Nigel was only half listening as Hannibal prattled on about how he would know if he'd bothered to read the letter before calling, he was far too interested in looking at those eyes set before him. Skittish in nature and framed with the curl of thick dark lashes he knew would look exquisite when half mooned over pale cheeks in the throws of ecstasy. He knew they were blue despite only being sketched in graphite. Something tinged more grey than the color of a true ocean sky, Hannibal having described the man in question to him in great detail one evening during one of their usual calls. He stared at those eyes now, unfocused and staring off to the side, drowning with too much emotion as they were lost to the world.

He wants to meet those wondering eyes, he wants to make them focus on him.

TBC

OoOoO

Thank you for reading!

Please leave a comment as they will get you faster updates. C: