DISCLAIMER: Don't make any profit: they're not mine. The end.
TIMELINE: after Hannibal the movie
AUTHOR'S NOTE: The music I was listening to while I wrote this was 'The Burning Heart' from the Hannibal soundtrack. This one may not have a bit plot but I think it's quite nice in the descriptions. All reviews are very appreciated.
Burning HeartsBY JANE MOSS
She wasn't sure exactly when it happened, but slowly she became aware of the charming music which was playing in the background all evening. The violins made her want to sway with their soft rasp. Yet there was something so sorrowful between the lines. Something that made her heart stir and view her life from a different angle. Sitting in a room by herself, listening to classical music – a CD she bought on sale. This music was almost haunting and yet she was not afraid. It wasn't really her style, but recently it changed without her knowledge to suit the style of someone else.
Yes, Dr Lecter would approve of her choice of music. The thought drifted through her mind and she made no attempt to stop it, nor catch it for further analysis as it dissolved just as fast as it came.
Suddenly yearning for something warmer than her 40W bulb, she left the bottle of Jack Daniel's on the table and went through the rooms to the closet where she kept everything she never used. Blowing the thick carpets of dust off a small cardboard box, she took out various sized candles and brought them to the living room with her. They were different shades and sizes, all lit previously but never finished.
Switching off the electric light she was greeted with the soft and fuzzy glow of candlelight. And still the song played on, enveloping her in its exhilarating and unnaturally calming atmosphere. Parts of it were warm to her ears, yet others felt colder. Images of the dungeon flashed through her head. Clarice couldn't stop her mind from drifting up the stairs to the back of her wardrobe…Where a black silky dress lay with her guilty conscience, always drifting at the back of her mind. Her cheeks burned at the thought of it, because with it's elegance and grace came the memories… She decided to keep his gift even though she was sure it was best to part with it. She didn't want to think about the reason behind this.
Taking another sip of the nearly empty bottle of Daniel's she was glad she didn't have much more left. Suddenly feeling very hot and sticky in the normal clothes she wore, Clarice made her decision. She headed upstairs discarding them in messy heaps along the way. In her bedroom, she reached behind all her usual garments and brought out the soft and silky material deeply inhaling its scent. Sterilised bandages, her skin, dinner and a trace of… HIM… Clarice pushed it out of her mind the best she could slipping on the soft cool fabric onto her hot skin. She let a sigh escape. She didn't have time to stop the vivid memories from drifting through her senses.
Soft rasp of his voice downstairs… the smell of something delicious… the sizzling of the pan as he fried Krendler's brain and fed it to him… his LIPS…
Clarice took another longer breath before slowly letting it out and wondered why she was doing this to herself. 'Because now that you have no job, you've got time on your hands', her mind retorted. She didn't exactly know why she so desperately felt the need to experience that dark night at Chesapeake, but she decided it was her intoxicated mind that was to blame for all of this.
Standing atop the stairs she slowly made her descend in the Gucci shoes to go with the dress. Her hands gripped onto the barrier and for the first time that night she regretted the giddy of alcohol. She remembered Ardelia leaving to live with her latest boyfriend. Unlike Starling she had a job and had a life. Clarice kept the loneliness from settling and reentered the room feeling she fitted in with the charming sound of music, which drifted past her ears once more. Now all was missing was the wine, but a journey to the cold kitchen seemed unappealing.
No it was something else she wanted to see here. SOMEONE else, her mind corrected. She couldn't deny it anymore. Clarice wanted HIM here. She couldn't explain why she was expecting something to happen and found her disappointment when the unmoving room stared back at her. Desperately wanted to talk to him, there was nothing left to deny. To talk about anything at all. He always knew her mind. It was then she felt the empty air around her exposed skin. Nobody was here with her.
A thousand years was a long wait. He had just left her there without any promise of return, but her mind refused to banish the memories, which she unwillingly let flow into fantasies. She felt her heart burning from somewhere deep inside. Knowing she had pushed him away. Her heart burning for the man who would never return. Her eyes stung at her bad decision and a wave of loneliness swept over her and she almost let a sob escape. Grabbing the near empty bottle of Daniel's she drank the last drops and was frustrated to find it did nothing to block her running thoughts. She really wanted to hate him for it all. To hate him for tearing the last veil from her eyes. And she despised the truth of what was actually around her. All that was left was an angry emptiness that refused to leave her. She flung the empty bottle against the bare wall and saw it smash into a thousand pieces.
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The air was cold tonight. It blew softly against his warm skin and he roamed the empty street he knew so well. Lifting his head to look up at the distant stars, he let out a long breath which turned to steam as he exhaled. This was the only time he was sure he wouldn't be noticed. Dr Lecter let his eyes follow all the constellations the stars made before turning his attention back to the darkened street.
He could live freely out of DC, but something held him here, like a heavy chain around his heart. He stopped and turned to look at a pale light escaping through a familiar window. He had been on this very same spot a thousand times before. The house was quiet. Was she there at all? Briefly he wondered what kept her occupied these days. Sitting alone. He saw the image clearly in his mind. Movement. Shadows on the walls. She just came downstairs and sat down again. It was too dark in the room to tell what she was wearing, but subconsciously he knew it was something… different. That was certainly a change. He regarded his view from the other side of the street for a moment.
A crisp sound of breaking glass rang through the stillness. Anyone else might have not heard it, but his sharp senses picked it up. He inhaled almost sharply and a part of him wished he could get just that bit closer… No it was too soon for a fruitless risk.
It was getting colder by the days in November. He couldn't tour her neighbourhood for hours. Dr Lecter walked into a small café he found around the corner. It was just barely his taste but they did make good tea. He settled back into his seat after getting himself a hot cup of steaming liquid. Soon he would have to leave this spot as well. He didn't want the owners to see too much of him. Yet he didn't want to part with her presence so soon. She was so close now… so near. Curiosity enveloped his mind as he regarded the sound of breaking glass he heard earlier. Was it a bottle? She made no attempt to gather the sharp pieces. Thrown in anger then. Sharp pieces…. Sharp - Nobody saw him leave the café. The waitress recovered a $20 bill on his table.
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AUTHOR'S NOTE: That's it for now. I think this story is going to be short. I'm not sure when I'll complete it but all reviews are appreciated! – Jane:)
