"Have a seat wherever."
Her smile was gentle, her eyes a soothing cerulean that reminded one of fog hazing across the sea.
"Polite."
It sounded curt without her intent on it; the slight crinkle above her brow line betrayed her nervousness.
Though any person would be prone to nervousness after witnessing what she had. It spoke for her will that she would even bother seeing another medical practitioner, least of all one that had been equally as close. She had simply been at the wrong place at the wrong time and Alana felt immense sorrow for the strain that brought upon her.
Naturally Alana herself felt betrayed by what her mentor had done, the monster he truly was. Nothing tasted quite the same after. She doubted she could ever feel the same again regarding fine dinner; she had even lost her taste for beer. The whole ceremony of eating had became tedious and tainted. Alana never considered herself traumatized from it; she was able to justify her ignorance. When she was confronted to council the young girl she felt compelled to refuse. She had known prior of her proximity to Hannibal Lecter, which made her reluctant to sit and revisit her own remembrances.
Alana observed the woman shifting a bit in the seat across, her legs crossing and uncrossing beneath the teal fabric of her pencil skirt, which she pulled down a bit as if frightened of appearing too exposed. Also a reasonable reaction. Any victim of assault would exhibit a similar response to an uncomfortable conversation.
"It will be a long hour." The woman muttered firmly, her eyes now appearing much darker then Alana first noted.
"If you wish we can stop whenever. No obligations. You know I won't be forceful. I understand how close you were."
"Is that so?" Her lips turned upward curtly. "I'm sorry, I'm not sure where to start. I'm sure you have your own ideas, your own professional curiosities."
"Why is that?"
"I remember you. It was brief. I thought you were very lively."
"That's kind of you, but this is a very different setting. Whatever prior is irrelevant."
The woman pursed her lips. "This seems unprofessional, or perhaps...unconventional."
"How often are women found in this sort of situation? If you would be comfortable with another person to speak to..."Alana found herself hesitant to refer to herself as a counselor. Let alone psychiatrist.
"I suppose I've lost track of time, or really I didn't want to keep track of anything that linked me to the reality of what was going on."
"By reality you mean…?"
"The severity of it. I wasn't certain about my own feelings. That's what I mean by reality."
"Well, perhaps you should start at the beginning." Alana offered gently, setting her notebook aside fearing the woman might grow into an anxious animal and flee from the room.
She seemed a bit wild and unkempt with her hair sticking out as if it had not been combed for weeks. It was a pity, the woman had not always been this way. Some resolve passed her face as she again straightened, appearing confident.
"You mean when I met Hannibal Lecter."
Alana stiffened a bit at the mention of his name. It still make her cringe, thinking of what she willingly took from the man's plate before she understood what he was.
"When did you meet Hannibal Lecter?"