Clarice felt the tugging of exhaustion battling with the new rush of
adrenaline. The flittering moonlight caused the many darkenings of his pale
flesh stand out like red rose petals on a milk bath. There was an awful lot
of flesh on show, she couldn't help noticing. In fact she had never seen
him so.naked. Dressed in only trousers, she felt awkward around him for the
first time since that first fateful visit. The feeling worried her-she felt
their relationship moving, slowly as heavy cogs and as sure. Finally she
forced an answer past her lips. "You're awake." She whispered, not yet sure
of her voice.
Dr Lecter gently moved her feet and sat facing her along the sofa. "It would appear so, a very strange experience I assure you as I anticipated never waking again." His voice sounded surprisingly fluid for a man that had nearly been beaten into a coma. Tipping his head to the side, he watched her, perhaps taking in their odd setting-she had certainty noticed it. Both scantily clad on her sofa, talking as calmly as a pair of friends. Were they friends? Did Hannibal Lecter need friends? Her increasingly disturbing train of thought was disturbed by Dr Lecter again. "Care to enlighten me on that matter, Agent Starling?" He always seemed to call her by a title when trying to distance himself, or so she thought. Was he finding this meeting as charged as she was? Starling relished the tiny insight-she had been offered so few. "Surely you can work it out." She muttered, head turned from his moon flecked gaze.
He leaned back against the sofa back to take the weight off his battered ribs. "I want to hear it from you. Tell me." The same calm insistence that had thickened his tone since they met for the first time. Maybe it was the anger tiredness brings, maybe it was the lack of a cause such as a young woman's life but whatever caused it, Clarice felt a weight lifted some what. She didn't have to conduct in this verbal battle with this irritatingly knowledgeable man that had plagued her dreams for years. Still not meeting his gaze, she said softly yet powerfully "No." He was still. "What did you say? Look at me Clarice." She turned to him now-eyes but an inch apart. "N.O.no, has it ever crossed your mind that maybe, just maybe I don't want to discuss everything I hold personal in my life with a man I have only been in the company of for what? 4 hours tops?"
For a minute, Starling thought she saw surprise in his eyes-or was it respect? Whatever it may have been it was sucked into the maroon pools of emotionless fireworks. In sheer frustration she leapt from the sofa and kicked her glass of half finished Jack's all over her carpet . She was not even rewarded with a twitch at the smash. "Don't be so childish, Clarice. I expect more of you than that." She slapped his face hard-hard enough to bring a flush to his pale cheeks, hard enough to twist his head. He looked shocked, or as close she was going to get to him shocked. "Expect that, Doctor?!" She screamed. She never felt the sharp thock on her temple and then she saw blackness.
Dr Lecter gently moved her feet and sat facing her along the sofa. "It would appear so, a very strange experience I assure you as I anticipated never waking again." His voice sounded surprisingly fluid for a man that had nearly been beaten into a coma. Tipping his head to the side, he watched her, perhaps taking in their odd setting-she had certainty noticed it. Both scantily clad on her sofa, talking as calmly as a pair of friends. Were they friends? Did Hannibal Lecter need friends? Her increasingly disturbing train of thought was disturbed by Dr Lecter again. "Care to enlighten me on that matter, Agent Starling?" He always seemed to call her by a title when trying to distance himself, or so she thought. Was he finding this meeting as charged as she was? Starling relished the tiny insight-she had been offered so few. "Surely you can work it out." She muttered, head turned from his moon flecked gaze.
He leaned back against the sofa back to take the weight off his battered ribs. "I want to hear it from you. Tell me." The same calm insistence that had thickened his tone since they met for the first time. Maybe it was the anger tiredness brings, maybe it was the lack of a cause such as a young woman's life but whatever caused it, Clarice felt a weight lifted some what. She didn't have to conduct in this verbal battle with this irritatingly knowledgeable man that had plagued her dreams for years. Still not meeting his gaze, she said softly yet powerfully "No." He was still. "What did you say? Look at me Clarice." She turned to him now-eyes but an inch apart. "N.O.no, has it ever crossed your mind that maybe, just maybe I don't want to discuss everything I hold personal in my life with a man I have only been in the company of for what? 4 hours tops?"
For a minute, Starling thought she saw surprise in his eyes-or was it respect? Whatever it may have been it was sucked into the maroon pools of emotionless fireworks. In sheer frustration she leapt from the sofa and kicked her glass of half finished Jack's all over her carpet . She was not even rewarded with a twitch at the smash. "Don't be so childish, Clarice. I expect more of you than that." She slapped his face hard-hard enough to bring a flush to his pale cheeks, hard enough to twist his head. He looked shocked, or as close she was going to get to him shocked. "Expect that, Doctor?!" She screamed. She never felt the sharp thock on her temple and then she saw blackness.