Warning! This story contains descriptive depictions of gore, major character death and implied suicide. Please read at your own risk. You have been warned.

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It had started as a small tickle in his throat one day, and of course, Hannibal paid no mind. But eventually, it grew worse. The tickle soon became coughing fits and then, pain. A searing pain, clawing slowly up his throat. Ripping and tearing at his trachea. He couldn't breathe, as if something was physically blocking his airway. Perhaps something was. For the more he coughed, the further the burning pain spread up his trachea, making him gag a bit.

Soon Hannibal found himself hunched over, coughing and gagging up blood and . . . flower petals? No, it couldn't be possible. Love, unrequited at that. How? When? When did he let his control slip? He kept such a careful hold on what little he could in such an unpredictable world, yet somehow at some point he let his tight grip loosen, perhaps only for a moment, but a moment was long enough for the beginnings of love to slip through.

Everything seemed to settle for a few minutes as Hannibal's coughs and gags died down. Now he found himself hunched over a bright red rose surrounded by blood, his own blood, and rose petals. The rose even had thorns and leaves still attached to the stem.

As he knelt there, hunched over what he had just coughed up, his body began to shake involuntarily. He could feel his control slipping as a foreign feeling overcame him. He didn't quite register it but his body and subconscious mind did and next thing he knew was that he was crying, something he utterly detested unless there was a good reason for it.

Once whatever had come over him had passed and Hannibal was once again calm and in control, he could process what had just happened. The hanahaki disease was something Hannibal was aware of but since he was mostly incapable of such feelings, or well he thought he was, he brushed such possibilities of he himself falling victim to such a thing.

Control was always something Hannibal liked to have over everything possible, including himself but perhaps, perhaps love was something he couldn't control. That lack of control made him want to control it all the more. He wanted to control love, his love, others love. Perhaps he could if he tried hard enough.

It had been a little over a month since Hannibal had coughed up the first flower and all seemed well. Hannibal was mostly in control over the spread of the disease, he still coughed up some blood and a flower petal here and there but there hadn't been any more flowers. Frustratingly enough though, that tickle was still there in the back of his throat.

Currently, Hannibal had been performing what most people would call an experiment but he saw it more as a means to fix a problem. It consisted of him making anyone he could possibly love, fall in love with him. His current subject was Alana but the results weren't what he was hoping for.

From what he knew of love, the little bits people talked to him about, he felt nothing of the sorts towards her. She had also already confessed her love for him yet the tickle remained. It was almost time for him to move his experiment on. And his next subject was Will Graham.

Will Graham was an interesting individual and there were plenty of aspects about the man that could have possibly aided in Hannibal falling for him. Unfortunately, Will was a tough nut to crack. He was stubborn, closed off and straight as far as Hannibal knew.

But of course, Hannibal knew that his charm and looks had the ability to make even the straightest man want him, he was sure Will wouldn't be too much different. Although Hannibal did take into account that Will would need a little more than charm and looks to make Will love him but Hannibal was determined.

All that there was to do now was prepare, and get rid of Alana. Not through murder but just out of his life romantically. Yes, he enjoyed the company and the sex but he found Alana exhausting.

So far his experiment with Will was going well. Will appeared to be falling for Hannibal, albeit slowly but slow was better than not at all. But regardless everything was going according to plan, sort of. There was a slight... miscalculation in Hannibal's experiment. He never accounted for the fact that Will wasn't very open about how he felt.

And this led Hannibal to become stuck, unsure of how to proceed further in his experiment. He's never been unsure of anything before, he's always just gone with the flow. He rarely needed to plan anything out, unless it was how he wanted to display his newest victim.

But alas, now he needed a plan, a proper one at that. He needed to figure out what Will likes, subtly of course. Hannibal would then use this newfound information to win Will's affections. As Hannibal began planning out how he would gain access to such information, he came to the realization that Will truly was the one he had fallen for. It was odd to realize such a thing.

Despite the fact that Hannibal told himself that this was only an experiment, a means to an end, he could feel his heart rate elevate when he was near Will, and he would get this strange feeling in his stomach, as if he was going to vomit, which must be what most people described as "butterflies" in his stomach.

When Will left after dinner that night Hannibal ended up coughing and vomiting up his dinner, blood, many petals and at least three roses. He knew his time was beginning to run short so he needed to act quickly. Thankfully Will was supposed to have dinner with him again in two days.

It had been a week since Hannibal had last seen Will. Hannibal's condition was worsening by the day and he was frequently coughing up blood and roses. There were barely any petals now, only fully bloomed roses with a few petals here and there. He could have easily made a bouquet with the number of roses he coughed up.

But tonight Will would be dining with him and Hannibal had an amazing dinner planned. Normally he'd go all out with fancy and intricate dishes but tonight he wanted something more on the simple side. So he settled for Braised Chicken, which was a Thai-Indian dish that he hoped would warm Will up to him. For tonight was the night he would finally admit how he felt.

Will arrived just as Hannibal was setting the table. The younger man had let himself in and was standing in the doorway to the dining room, watching Hannibal. The doctor could practically feel Will's eyes on him and it sent a small shiver down his spine.

Hannibal cleared his throat and slowly turned to Will. He opened his mouth to say something but Will beat him to the punch.

"Sorry I'm late, Jack wouldn't let me leave," Will explained, eyes shifting down to the floor, avoiding Hannibal's own.

"Actually you're early, I just set the table. Dinner is nearly ready."

Will looked up at the mention of dinner and met Hannibal's eyes for a moment before they glanced away and stared intently at the table. Hannibal smiled softly at this and headed back into the kitchen. Will's footsteps soon followed.

"What are we having for dinner tonight?" Will asked, coming to a stop behind Hannibal.

"Braised Chicken, I think you'll quite like it."

Will smiled and offered to help bring the food to the table. Hannibal allowed it just this once and the pair made their way to the table, made their respective plates and sat down. Will didn't even seem to notice that Hannibal had set the table so they were seated next to each other. Either that or he didn't mind it. They ate in comfortable silence.

Dinner was finished and Hannibal brought their dishes into the kitchen. He returned a moment later with two simple heart-shaped brownies. Typically Hannibal would never do such a thing but he was desperate at this point.

"They look like hearts," Will commented, taking a small forkful of brownie.

Hannibal opened his mouth to speak but instead of words leaving his mouth, flower petals and blood left it instead. Then he began to cough, more and more petals and blood spilling from his lips. He turned his head away and Will looked utterly terrified.

"Hannibal?! What's happening?!"

For a brief moment, the coughing subsided and Hannibal stood, attempting to make his way towards the bathroom. It was rude but it was better than coughing blood and petals all over Will.

But fate wasn't on Hannibal's side as another coughing fit overtook him, this one so strong it caused Hannibal to collapse. Hannibal felt as if he couldn't breathe like he was choking on his own blood. He was vaguely aware of Will by his side, one hand rubbing in small circles on Hannibal's back.

"Hannibal! Hannibal, what's happening?!"

The coughing subsided for a moment and Hannibal managed to catch his breath before he spoke.

"Will, my dear Will, don't you see? I'm in love with you, something I thought I wasn't capable of, but you proved me wrong," he whispered, reaching a hand up to cup Will's cheek. Will looked utterly terrified as if he didn't quite understand what the confession had to do with Hannibal's current condition.

More coughs began to wrack Hannibal's body and he leaned against Will for support. He couldn't breathe anymore and he knew that he had been too late. The world was fading from his vision and Hannibal looked up, wanting Will to be the last thing he sees. With a weak smile, he utters his last words with his final breath.

"I love you, Willam Graham."

Will is left kneeling on the floor, cradling a dying Hannibal in his arms as he helplessly watches the life fade from Hannibal's eyes. As Hannibal's eyes glaze over, Will begins to sob. He presses his face into Hannibal's now blood covered vest and sobs.

Soon his sobs begin to turn to coughs and to Will's horror he sees flower petals. The petals were different from the ones Hannibal had been coughing up for they were yellow and Hannibal's had been red.

Will stood, his mind made up. Many would think him a coward but he didn't care. He just needed to find a paper, a pen and his gun.