The fingers tightening around his neck, causing his throat to burn. Will dug his fingers into those hands, looking up into crimson eyes as life slowly began to leave his. p
"Han..." He couldn't even get the other's name out. The empath's hand leaving his attacker's and trail up to his forearm, gripping at his sleeve. Will chokes, "Ha...bal." p
Hannibal grits his teeth at the gasping pleas and wanting nothing more to block them out so he tightens his grasp, completely quieting the struggling man. p
Trembling fingers let go and Will's hands fall to either side of his head, mind becoming fuzzy and blackness edging in the corners of his sight. Will closes his eyes and a tear falls freely down his cheek. His lips trying to form words that just die in his throat. p
It was over, he was going to die by the hands of the one he trusted most and once his closet friend. p
Just as he's about to pass out, those hands loosen their grip and allow air to travel to his lungs. Will takes a deep breath and brakes out into a coughing fit, turning his head away from the man above him. p
Hannibal remain straddling his hips, letting his hands stay where they are on the man's throat. He didn't release his hold on the other, only allowing enough pressure to keep Will pin down. Watching him trying to regulate his breathing, his body shaking like a leaf and his face so pale. p
Why? Why can't I do it? Why can't I kill him? p
"Will," His name leaves his lips before he could stop it, Hannibal leans down, wrapping his arms around the shaking man and holds him tightly. The profiler struggles against his hold but too weak to break free from the lack of oxygen. Hannibal presses his nose to his throat, smelling the fear roll off him like sweat. p
His coughing began to calm down but the ache in his throat was still there, Will tries to gather his scattered throat but it seem a lot harder to do with the other nuzzling his neck. p
"Hannibal..." He says more clearly this time, voice a little raspy from being almost strangled to death. p
"I can't," The predator cuts his sentence off, whispering into his moist neck. "I just...can't. Not you." p
Will can feel his throat tighten, biting his lip to keep it from trembling but makes no move to push the man away. Fingers run through his curly hair and cradle the back of his skull, letting his cheek brush against Will's stumbled one. p
A shaky breath leaves Will's lips and his hands reaching up to grasp Hannibal's sleeves again, wanting nothing more than to shove him away and run but frozen underneath the dangerous man. p
"I think I love you."