The two had been seeing each other for several weeks now. Alana almost felt as though she could tell Hannibal anything. The thought came to her when she was lying beside him one evening, the glow of their combined joy evident, leftover in the redness below his neck. She did not know if her blush traveled that low.
"I have a request," she said, turning to him and looking up in his eyes.
"Mm?" He took a deep, full breath and began stroking her hair rhythmically.
"If it's too—I mean, you can tell me. I won't be—"
He interrupted her with a kiss. "I will do absolutely anything you want me to. I'll do anything."
"I want you to choke me," she blurted and watched his face as his lips moved from smile to line and his eyes got wide.
"I-I don't mean literally," she sputtered. "Just-just put your hand around my neck and squeeze a little."
His head tilted to the side and his eyes glistened. His voice was delicate. "You trust me?"
"Of course I do."
He told her, then, that he'd be happy to comply.