Several hours later, Hannibal awoke feeling cold. They had drifted into sleep on the couch, naked and curled around each other.
He looked down at Will. He was pressed into Hannibal, his eyes closed, his breathing slow. He was utterly at peace.
Hannibal could feel how cold Will was. He stood up, careful not to disturb the younger man, and went to retrieve the quilt from his bed. He pulled on his dressing gown before returning to Will, draping the quilt over him delicately.
He felt quite awake. He sat down on the chair opposite the couch and watched Will.
There was a name for what he felt. He knew what it was; he could taste it in his mouth. It was burned into his heart.
He was afraid; that hadn't been a lie. The way he felt about Will made him vulnerable.
A knock on the door about ten minutes later startled him out of his musings. He looked at the clock- it was a little before six in the morning.
Will shifted but didn't wake up. Hannibal resisted the urge to kiss his curls before heading to open the door. He was tense. He had a feeling he knew who would be on the other side, and the conversation to follow was not one he was looking forward to.
As he suspected, it was Alana. She had clearly thrown on the clothes she had been wearing yesterday. Her eyes were panicked.
"Hannibal, Will has disappeared. Have you heard from him? I'm worried he's somehow sleepwalking in that wheelchair." There were dark shadows beneath her wide eyes.
He swallowed, then made a decision. "Please come inside, Alana."
His calm demeanour seemed to startle Alana, and she followed him into the lounge with an air of confusion. He could hear her sharp intake of breath when she saw the pile of shirts and trousers they had peeled from each other last night.
He watched her register the sight of Will asleep, tucked up cosily. Several emotions crossed her face. He was perhaps being cruel, making her see clear evidence that Will belonged to him, but he needed her to know.
"I see," she said quietly.
"I am sorry we did not let you know he was leaving last night," Hannibal said, trying to keep his tone gentle. "That was rather rude."
She nodded. "Yes. No, that's alright."
"Would you care for some breakfast?"
Will's eyes flickered open then, and he looked from Hannibal to Alana with a crease forming between his eyebrows.
"No, thank you. I'll see you later, Will."
Hannibal saw her to the door, touching her shoulder in a supportive, understanding gesture that had no emotions behind it whatsoever. She nodded and left.
Will was sitting up when he returned.
"Correct me if I'm wrong," he said slowly, his voice thick with sleep, "but did you just show me off to Alana like an exhibit in a zoo?"
"She wanted to know where you were."
Will shook his head, stretching. "You're just so manipulative, aren't you?" There was no malice in his words; Hannibal was sure that Will was starting to accept him.
"It has been suggested that I am, yes."
Will smiled at him then; it was bright and genuine, the sort of smile that rarely graced his face.
"Would you like what I brought you here to give you?" Hannibal asked. His heart was starting to pick up speed in his chest.
Will raised an eyebrow again. "There really was something? I thought it was all an elaborate ruse."
"For once, no. Wait there."
Hannibal retrieved the leather-bound journal from his desk, weighing it in his hands for a few moments. When he had created this document yesterday, he had been frenzied with a passion he rarely felt.
This was the biggest decision he had made.
When he handed it to Will, Will looked confused, turning it over in his fingers to find a clue as to what was inside.
"I am not a trustworthy person," Hannibal said. His fingers were shaking; he folded them before him. "I do not expect you to trust me. I thought I would offer you some insurance."
"I..."
"Inside that journal, I have written a confession. It is the absolute truth- you may read it, if you desire to."
"I don't want to," Will said, and his voice came out strangled. "I think I may be better off not knowing the truth."
"It is yours to keep, yours to do with what you will."
"I don't want to keep it." Will extended his arm, offering the book back to Hannibal, begging him with his eyes to take this power away from him.
"I need to know that you feel like you have some choice in this."
Will said nothing, merely nodded sadly and cradled the journal.
"I want you to come and stay with me for two weeks- a trial, if you will. If you decide at the end of it that you don't wish to be with me, you can leave and I will attempt to leave you alone." The idea of Will leaving was almost too painful to contemplate.
Will chewed his lip. "I would like that. I have two conditions, though."
Hannibal knew what the first condition was going to be before Will spoke, and it made him thin his lips when he heard it.
"No killing. Not for two weeks." Will said the words in a rush. He was in denial about Hannibal's secret, and he did not want to talk about it. Hannibal could hardly blame him.
"I will agree to this for two weeks. I have told you several times that I will not stop, and you need to believe that and accept that."
Will nodded. "I believe that. I don't know if I can accept it or not. I suppose we have two weeks to find out."
Hannibal couldn't let Will go. He had some ideas about how he could make him accept it. However, he merely nodded.
"If I decide to stay at the end of the two weeks, I need you to take this back from me." Will gestured to the journal. "I don't want it."
Hannibal hesitated. It had cost him a lot to give the journal to Will.
"Can that be something we decide at the end of the two weeks?" he asked. "You may find I am less trustworthy than you believe."
"I highly doubt that's possible," Will said dryly.
Hannibal found himself laughing. He sat down beside Will and tugged him close, breathing in his familiar earthy scent. Will relaxed into his embrace easily, automatically, and Hannibal knew that despite his protests Will did trust him, as foolish and delightful as that was.
"Would you care for some coffee?" Hannibal asked.
He could feel Will hesitate against his chest. "Actually, if you don't mind, I'd quite like some breakfast." Bright eyes met his. "I can't stay here for two weeks without eating, can I?"
"That is true. I imagine you would prefer something vegetarian?"
Later that morning, a showered and cheerful Will sat beside Hannibal as they drove to the hospital. Cheerful was not a word that Hannibal had ever associated with Will, but he was practically glowing.
Hannibal imagined a different life. One where he had met Will before things had become so deliciously dark. If he was honest, though, he was quite sure that Will craved his darkness as much as he enjoyed Will's lightness.
Will had an appointment to get his ankle checked. Hannibal conveniently had the morning free (cleared when he had learned from Alana two days ago about this appointment) and had offered to take him.
Hannibal pushed Will into the hospital and they sat side-by-side in the waiting room. Hannibal reached across and took Will's hand, enjoying the startled look which crossed his face. An attractive blush tinged his cheeks.
The doctor proclaimed that Will was very much on the mend, and they left with Will on crutches instead of in the wheelchair.
"It's a good thing you already agreed to stay with me for two weeks," Hannibal observed as they climbed into his car.
"Why?"
"Because otherwise I might have had to break your other ankle to stop you running away."
Will punched him playfully in the arm. It was such a wonderfully bizarre reaction to his comment that Hannibal leaned over and kissed him full on the mouth.
