Disclaimer: I don't *sob* own anything. REALLY wish I did, but I don't.
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As they drove down a deserted country road, Clarice couldn't help but question what she was doing. A few hours earlier, she had decided to go off with Hannibal because he had said that he had loved her on the condition that he had promised to stop being a cannibal. Now, she found the idea that he loved her completely ridiculous and his promise to stop eating people even more so.
"Having second thoughts, Clarice?" Hannibal said. After the many years she had known him, Clarice had never gotten used to him being able to tell exactly what she was thinking.
"In a manner of speaking, yes," Clarice answered.
"What can I do to prove to you that I love you?" Hannibal asked. Clarice heard the genuine truth of what he was saying, but she knew how good he was at convincing people of things. As for the actual question, Clarice had no idea. It was unusual for her not to have even the slightest clue, but then again, this was an unusual situation.
"Proving love- it seems so ridiculous. One shouldn't have to have love proven to them, don't you think? After all, a large part of love is trust," Clarice said, hoping she didn't sound too much like Hannibal.
"And what are you implying, Clarice?" he said, glancing at her for a second, then returning his eyes to the road.
"Nothing whatsoever," Clarice said and started to think again. Hannibal let it be, knowing that she would tell him soon enough. Of course he knew what she was getting at, but he hoped that for this one time he was wrong.
At around seven thirty when it started to get dark they began looking for a place where they could put the van for the night. Eventually they saw a small wood where they could park the van. The combined mix of underbrush and tall trees and the dark colour of the van made it ideal for hiding in.
Hannibal pulled the van a little ways in the woods then got out to see if it was visible from the road. It wasn't, so he went back and got into the back part of the van. Clarice had already started dinner so he sat down on the couch and watched her. She was strikingly beautiful, her long red hair falling into her face and her clear blue eyes glancing over at him every so often. When she did look at him, he would smile and Clarice would smile back, but as if she was withholding something from him. Hannibal knew that if he said anything about it, it would just be building the wall between him and the information, more importantly between him and Clarice. He wanted so much for this to work out, but it felt like the whole thing was doomed. He wanted to hold her in his arms and comfort her, saying everything was ok and that she could trust him, but he knew it wouldn't do any good.
"Dinner's served," Clarice said a few minutes later. She had made two grilled cheese sandwiches. Simple, but delicious. Much like herself, Hannibal thought.
"Thank you, Clarice," he said, taking the plate that was being offered to him. They ate their dinner in silence, Hannibal watching Clarice, Clarice thinking about what she was going to do.
"Clarice," Hannibal said. She looked at him. "There's one thing I'm just dieing to know. Do you love me?" He knew that he should've waited for Clarice to start, but he did have to know. Clarice debated how to answer.
"I'm not sure if I can trust you. I know you would never hurt me, but what you've been doing isn't something that I can take lightly or just forget with a wave of a hand. But, directly answering your question, yes, I do love you." Hannibal leaned over and they kissed, this time with much less venom and much more passion than when he had first kissed her. They broke away smiling.
"I'll clear up. I remember the last time we dined together you did. Quid pro quo, doctor," Clarice said, still smiling. She collected their dishes and put them in the sink, not in the mood for washing. She sat down next to Hannibal, closer this time. He put his arm around her and she leaned her head against his shoulder.
"I know you might find it hard to trust me at first, but I think the idea will grow on you," he said.
"I'm sure it will." And with that, Clarice began to fall asleep, despite the early hour of eight thirty. It had been a trying day, and her body needed rest.
"Good night," she said.
"Good night, my Clarice," Hannibal replied and leaned his head on her's. He closed his eyes and they soon fell asleep.
Clarice woke up the next morning on a pulled out couch underneath a heavy blanket. She looked at her watch and saw that it was seven thirty. She smiled; it was unusual for her to get eleven hours of sleep. There was always something that needed to get done. But now, now she could do, with in reason, whatever she wanted.
Hannibal was sitting across from her, drawing. Clarice got up and looked over his shoulder. It was of her, sleeping like she had the night before, with her head on Hannibal's shoulder, and his head resting on hers. Her hair had fallen into her face, but between the locks, you could clearly see a small smile. Hannibal put the finishing touches on the picture and looked up at his subject.
"Good morning, Clarice. Did you sleep well?" he asked.
"Yes. And you?"
"Of course." Hannibal looked back at the picture. "Not one of my best pieces of work. I've never excelled at drawing myself."
"I like it, although I highly doubt that I'm that beautiful," Clarice said, eyeing the picture.
"But you are. Oh, and Clarice?" She looked at him. "Breakfast is on the table. Quid pro quo."
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As they drove down a deserted country road, Clarice couldn't help but question what she was doing. A few hours earlier, she had decided to go off with Hannibal because he had said that he had loved her on the condition that he had promised to stop being a cannibal. Now, she found the idea that he loved her completely ridiculous and his promise to stop eating people even more so.
"Having second thoughts, Clarice?" Hannibal said. After the many years she had known him, Clarice had never gotten used to him being able to tell exactly what she was thinking.
"In a manner of speaking, yes," Clarice answered.
"What can I do to prove to you that I love you?" Hannibal asked. Clarice heard the genuine truth of what he was saying, but she knew how good he was at convincing people of things. As for the actual question, Clarice had no idea. It was unusual for her not to have even the slightest clue, but then again, this was an unusual situation.
"Proving love- it seems so ridiculous. One shouldn't have to have love proven to them, don't you think? After all, a large part of love is trust," Clarice said, hoping she didn't sound too much like Hannibal.
"And what are you implying, Clarice?" he said, glancing at her for a second, then returning his eyes to the road.
"Nothing whatsoever," Clarice said and started to think again. Hannibal let it be, knowing that she would tell him soon enough. Of course he knew what she was getting at, but he hoped that for this one time he was wrong.
At around seven thirty when it started to get dark they began looking for a place where they could put the van for the night. Eventually they saw a small wood where they could park the van. The combined mix of underbrush and tall trees and the dark colour of the van made it ideal for hiding in.
Hannibal pulled the van a little ways in the woods then got out to see if it was visible from the road. It wasn't, so he went back and got into the back part of the van. Clarice had already started dinner so he sat down on the couch and watched her. She was strikingly beautiful, her long red hair falling into her face and her clear blue eyes glancing over at him every so often. When she did look at him, he would smile and Clarice would smile back, but as if she was withholding something from him. Hannibal knew that if he said anything about it, it would just be building the wall between him and the information, more importantly between him and Clarice. He wanted so much for this to work out, but it felt like the whole thing was doomed. He wanted to hold her in his arms and comfort her, saying everything was ok and that she could trust him, but he knew it wouldn't do any good.
"Dinner's served," Clarice said a few minutes later. She had made two grilled cheese sandwiches. Simple, but delicious. Much like herself, Hannibal thought.
"Thank you, Clarice," he said, taking the plate that was being offered to him. They ate their dinner in silence, Hannibal watching Clarice, Clarice thinking about what she was going to do.
"Clarice," Hannibal said. She looked at him. "There's one thing I'm just dieing to know. Do you love me?" He knew that he should've waited for Clarice to start, but he did have to know. Clarice debated how to answer.
"I'm not sure if I can trust you. I know you would never hurt me, but what you've been doing isn't something that I can take lightly or just forget with a wave of a hand. But, directly answering your question, yes, I do love you." Hannibal leaned over and they kissed, this time with much less venom and much more passion than when he had first kissed her. They broke away smiling.
"I'll clear up. I remember the last time we dined together you did. Quid pro quo, doctor," Clarice said, still smiling. She collected their dishes and put them in the sink, not in the mood for washing. She sat down next to Hannibal, closer this time. He put his arm around her and she leaned her head against his shoulder.
"I know you might find it hard to trust me at first, but I think the idea will grow on you," he said.
"I'm sure it will." And with that, Clarice began to fall asleep, despite the early hour of eight thirty. It had been a trying day, and her body needed rest.
"Good night," she said.
"Good night, my Clarice," Hannibal replied and leaned his head on her's. He closed his eyes and they soon fell asleep.
Clarice woke up the next morning on a pulled out couch underneath a heavy blanket. She looked at her watch and saw that it was seven thirty. She smiled; it was unusual for her to get eleven hours of sleep. There was always something that needed to get done. But now, now she could do, with in reason, whatever she wanted.
Hannibal was sitting across from her, drawing. Clarice got up and looked over his shoulder. It was of her, sleeping like she had the night before, with her head on Hannibal's shoulder, and his head resting on hers. Her hair had fallen into her face, but between the locks, you could clearly see a small smile. Hannibal put the finishing touches on the picture and looked up at his subject.
"Good morning, Clarice. Did you sleep well?" he asked.
"Yes. And you?"
"Of course." Hannibal looked back at the picture. "Not one of my best pieces of work. I've never excelled at drawing myself."
"I like it, although I highly doubt that I'm that beautiful," Clarice said, eyeing the picture.
"But you are. Oh, and Clarice?" She looked at him. "Breakfast is on the table. Quid pro quo."