He's turned out the lights, but even now, Will's pale skin gleams like ivory in the moonlight, streaks of red and pink crisscrossing over his arched back, weaving patterns even Hannibal cannot decipher anymore. A few months ago, he still could, could trace every mark, touch every dark, painful bruise on his pet's body and name the offence which had made it necessary for Hannibal to put it there, the day of it, but even a memory as good as his has its limits, and even a body as pliable as Will's is only big enough for so many whip lashes, electric shocks, bites and slaps, before they start blending into each other.
If he prefers it likes this, when he has made every part of this creature he has broken but still not completely understood his, or if he has liked the challenge of claiming Will, he still is not sure about.
But however he will decide one day, everything about Will screams out his belonging to Hannibal to the world right now, his bowed head, his arms and legs which are trembling and struggling to keep his body balanced, the tear stains on the silken sheets, the complete lack of sound because Hannibal has told him to be silent. It's beautiful in its own way, and Hannibal cannot help but reach out and watch Will try so hard not to flinch, because although his hand trails over the curve of the other's back in a gentle caress, spreads blood over still bleeding skin, what Will expects is another punishment; it means another lash, and they both know it.
There were three left before, one for a lie, two for insolence; Hannibal makes them three again by bringing the whip in his hand down on Will's back another time, adding another ruby red streak to the ones he has already strewn across the other's skin, and Will's breath hitches, his fingers claw deeper into the sheets. Something almost close to affection (love, Hannibal thinks, because the word seems to hold so much more meaning, carefully intertwines possession and care) blossoms in his heart for a moment, sparks a feeling he has come to associate with Will Graham alone; a myriad of neurons firing, a thousand hormones released, hundreds of thoughts rushing through his head.
Will is dying to speak, he knows it, can see the words working their way up the other's throat until they are pushing against his still closed lips, and Hannibal makes him suffer for a few more moments, knows that, if he doesn't give permission, Will won't speak for a year.
"You may speak", he says after another second, and another, runs a finger over a particularly deep gash just to hear Will gasp the second he parts his lips. His fingertip comes back to him painted red and Hannibal licks it clean, savours the taste.
"Please", the other gasps out, and his voice is broken and strained and beautiful; Hannibal can hear every sweet sting of pain in it. "I can't – too much, I… please." And Hannibal understands, has known what Will was about to say before the words could make it off his tongue, because by now, he can read Will's thoughts in the flex of his muscles, his desires in the strain of his back.
"Now, my dear William, tell me again why I do this."
At the mention of his name the other goes still, goes pliant under the touch of Hannibal's hand, all tension leaving him in a heartbeat; Hannibal never uses his full name unless they are in situations like this, and by now, he suspects, the meaning has changed from a reprimand to a term of affection in Will's gorgeously twisted mind.
And it must be because of that why his pet's voice sounds more breathless and less pained when he speaks again, as if the sounds were enough to soothe the ache. "B-Because you love me."
The feeling which washes over Hannibal, makes his lips curl upwards in a smile, the hairs on his arms stand and his skin tingle might not be love, but bears at least some of its traits, makes him want to devour Will alive and with all his wishes and hopes and broken dreams, to have the other engrained in every of his cells. It's as close to love as he can come, and it's enough for both of them.
"That is true", he says softly, and presses down on one of the more tender scars on Will's back, digs his fingernails into the soft flesh until the skin breaks and bleeds again. "Daddy loves you."