I was sitting in front of him, smiling as I took the silverware in my hands. The food he had prepared was mouthwatering and I hungrily looked at today's dish.
He had prepared osso buco with saffron-scented risotto and zucchini eyeballs. He had poured red wine into our glasses and served bread as a side dish.
He began to cut the meat with his perfect sharpened knife and I took a moment to admire him, as the sight of the muscular but formal man was aesthetically pleasing.
I began to cut the veal shank carefully, before I put it in my mouth and let the taste spread like an inferno.
I had brought the veal shank with me as a gift and he had prepared it. He had been surprised that I was the one bringing meat this time.
As we sat and ate dinner in front of the fire in Hannibal's dining room, he thought the meat tasted a bit strange and asked if the animal had been frightened when it was killed.
''The meat is bitter about being dead'' I reply.
''This meat is neither pork nor cow'' he concludes.
''It's long pig.'' I explain.
We ate mostly without words, however understood each other in silence.
I admired the sight of him and the way he was able to cook so well, as I looked at him. Hannibal was wearing a fine red shirt with a black waistcoat and a matching tie.
I had chosen to wear a black shirt with a dull grey jacket. The room was dark, only being lighted up by the calm flames of candles and the fire.
The fire was heating up the room well and the coal was glowing dark red.
The intense but silence dinner was satisfying and pleasing to us, as it made our deep connection with each other even greater.
What we didn't see, was that outside two pitch black crows shared their hunt on the frame of the window.