Disclaimer: The characters of Hannibal Lecter and Clarice Starling belong to Thomas Harris. For now, I am only using them to try to entertain you.

Chapter Three

Dr Lecter watched as Clarice walked towards her bedroom. He knew she wasn't lying about shooting him. He was of course worried about her. He could see she hadn't been sleeping properly; the bags under her eyes were rather large. She looked very pale. She wasn't eating properly. Was she like this because of their coupling at the lake house? Did he do this to her?

Pain struck him; it felt as if his heart was crushed, cut into two. He stared at her now closed bedroom door, he wanted to make it up to her, show her he wasn't the monster that the media portrayed him to be. He walked down the stairs making his way to Clarice's kitchen. He needed to do something that might please her. Might bring a smile to her face, then again..whatever he did might anger her.

When Clarice walked through her living room door at that precise moment, Dr Lecter had just finished the little touch-ups. Clarice was utterly shocked. Hadn't she told him not to move? Oh, he had moved all right, he had looked through her kitchen cupboards. Nevertheless, she had to admit it this was beautiful. Dr Lecter had taken the candles she left for the blackouts and had arranged them all around her living room. Scented candles too. The smell was magnificent, different smells mingling with each other. It was just fantastic. The room was cast in light and shadow. The candles flame wavering from time to time.

Dr Lecter looked at Clarice; so many emotions were flooding her features. The room looked amazing, it had the exact effect he had wanted. Hopefully this would woo Clarice into speaking to him, on a friendly basis. He didn't want Agent Starling kicking in again. That he could not handle. He was tired of playing games, all he wanted was Clarice. He wanted Clarice to know his true feelings so she could see that he was..in fact a man. A lonely man in love, with the most beautiful woman he had ever met in his life.

He sat on the floor, taking in the sweet aroma of the scented candles combined with the lovely scent of Clarice. She looked into his eyes as he looked into hers.

Clarice Looked at him and made her way to her sofa. She sat down never taking her gaze off Dr Lecter. She parted her lips slightly, not knowing what to say to him at this moment. She was too stunned to think of something horrible to say. They sat there in silence. Not one of them wanting to break the silence.

Dr Lecter looked at Clarice and decided he needed to say something.

"I think I need to apologise Clarice."

Clarice looked at him and sighed.

"I think we both do Dr Lecter."

"Have you been feeling like this since our meeting at the lake house?"

She looked up angrily. He was trying to analyse here again. Couldn't he just stop with the analysing and hear her out?

"Feeling like what Dr Lecter? I feel perfectly fine."

That was a lie, and they both knew it. Dr Lecter made that clicking noise with his tongue.

"We both know that isn't true Clarice. I can see by your features you're not fine. Look at the bags underneath your eyes, or the paleness of your skin. Your speech is slower, and to be perfectly honest Clarice. You look ill."

Clarice closed her eyes. The truth hurt. Everything he had said there she had seen herself in her bedroom mirror. Every detail. Nothing slipped past him.

"Dr Lecter, you come in here, wait.you BREAK into my home. You spy on me while I'm in the shower, and now your telling me how I feel. I'm feeling like this because of you and your damned tea party! I wouldn't be like this if it wasn't for you making Paul eat his own brain. Kissing me, leaving me to face this by myself. You don't have a fucking clue have I feel so stop analysing me and look at yourself for once.I have tried so hard these past few years. I thought maybe if I took my mind off of you I'd be able to get on with my life, but it never happened. YOU know I love you. I know I love you. So why do I feel so bad? Why do I feel like every day just drags on to make me feel worse? Every night since the lake house..ive wished you'd come and take me away with you, share the same house with you. Share the same bed with you, and id always wake up in tears because you weren't there sitting by my bed. Not a damned phone call or a single letter. Not a single thing!"

By the end of Clarice's speech, she was shaking with anger and with her emotions. Never in her life had she needed to depend on someone as much as Dr Lecter. After her fathers death she thought nobody would be there for her, and then he hit the scene. He cared for her, understood her. He understood her more than she understood herself and that scared her. What would the outcome be now, that she told him everything she kept bottled inside of her? He would probably kill her. How could she blame everything on him? He hadn't killed her father..it wasn't him that made the lambs scream. So why did it feel as if it was him ruining her life?

Dr Hannibal Lecter sat there, listening to Clarice blame him for everything bad that had happened in her life. He sat there with a stone cold stare. His face showed no emotion at all, but inside he was angry. Oh he was burning inside. The cheek of her! He had tried to make her see the real world. He had tried to make her feel better about herself and all she was doing now was throwing it back in his face. It was like kicking dirt into his face.

Slowly and calmly, he stood up. He looked at Clarice's red teary face. He clenched his jaw and stared at her, his eyes were cold, even Clarice could see that. Clarice got up from the sofa and backed away slowly. She didn't notice that she had come back to back with the wall.

A/n Thank you for all the great reviews..i didn't think this fic would amount to anything, but I'm writing the fourth chapter, so I must be doing something right.