AN: Just a quick note. Some of you asked me to do another short one shot of Hannibal… meditating… I suppose on his affections for Clarice. This one is more like a one-sided conversation in his head… you'll see what I mean. Well, here she goes! BTW: Finally got to watch Red Dragon, it was superb! Oh, and have you seen The Rite yet? It's AWESOME! And really freaky :p Okay, I'm starting now… promise.

I am going to tell you something.

I'm going to tell you the reasons behind why I cannot love you.

As the experts say, and I'm sure they've told you, I am a sociopath.

So they say.

They however do not know the story of my creation. I haven't told them.

In fact, you will be the first to hear of what I have to say. Here goes.

I was born in Lithuania. It gets bitterly cold in the winters.

I will spare you the details of how I got there, but when I was a small child, I found myself in a cabin.

With some men and my younger sister. Mischa.

She was a great beauty. She would've turned out to be quite a woman.

I would have had to fight off all of the suitors who would've come knocking at the door to woo her.

But her life was snuffed. Stolen. Cut short.

The men fed me an unusually good dinner that evening. I was a child. The world had not yet taught me to be suspicious.

I was after that. Always suspicious.

Mischa wasn't back, but I wasn't really sure how long it had been.

It had been enough time to prepare a meal.

They tricked me.

I lost the last family I knew.

Infact I even took part in it.

And now we fast forward.

I was living in France, and getting my revenge.

Did you know that the cheeks are the best part of any animal?

After my revenge was complete, I moved to America.

The craving. That craving.

It just never stopped.

So I did it again. And the craving was appeased.

I made sure to take the ones who were of no asset to the world.

The rude, the wicked, so on and so forth.

And this, rather shortened history, brings us to my time in the asylum.

Are you beginning to understand? Do you see what the doctors mean?

In the asylum, I was treated as an animal.

I have always been a stuffer you see.

In that cabin, in Lithuania, all those years ago, I learned that if you stuff emotions inside you, the men wouldn't pay you so much attention.

In the asylum, that skill proved to be useful. In the beginning, it almost hurt. The words they used to describe me.

But it didn't, not enough to count.

I brought forth the emotion of annoyance which I also felt at the time.

I bit back, sharper, harder.

It was too easy.

But I was still treated like an animal.

Punished like a bad dog.

I suppose I might have deserved it.

But then again. No, I really didn't.

If they really pried into me… what would they have found.

Well now you know.

Why I can't love you.

As they say, I'm a sociopath.

But I leave you with this Agent Starling.

As Brutus was an honourable man, I do not love you.

Hope you like this one If anyone actually understands that last line, please let me know… I really hope someone gets it.

Much love to those of you who read 3

But if you comment you get two hearts of love 3 3

And if you give a suggestion of what I should do next you get three! 3 3 3

… that was pathetic. I apologize… it's past my bedtime :p

I promise I'll shut up now. Much love byee!

L.L