Lets just get onto the next chapter :)
Clarice chewed slowly on the last piece of baby spinach that was doused in a lovely Italian dressing, bit of ripe tomato, and feta cheese. Quietly, placing her fork down within the bowl, she watched the Good Doctor place the entrée upon the golden rimmed china plates. He plated slowly, like a painter putting the finishing touches on his masterpiece. The way he cooked truly was like art.
"Clarice, I have a more appropriate article of clothing waiting in your bedroom. If you would please go upstairs and change, that would make me very happy. Also, if you would, tie your hair back? I know it isn't my choice, but you do look… enticing with your hair pulled back." He dared her in the face, a soft smile coming over him. Clarice's heart seemingly stopped for a moment… that smile made the air sneak out of her lungs. She was no match to that smile and piercing eyes. Clarice simply nodded, agreeing to his polite demand and making her way upstairs.
Even in the dungeon, she contently had to remind herself that Doctor Hannibal Lecter was a cannibalistic monster. His kind mannerism, charm, and way of speaking washed away all monstrous thought of him. She wouldn't have believed that he bit the face off a nurse without a picture of the deformed face provided by Doctor Chilton. With her thoughts running off, she almost ran into her white, wooden door. Clarice shook her head, walking into the golden room and shutting her door behind her.
There, hanging off a hook on the wall, stood a dress… her dream dress. The black, silk corset top was rimmed with lace that had red glitter embedded within it. At the waist, a silken red ribbon wrapped around into a huge bow at the back. The bottom layers, layering in black and red, tapered to the ankles. Clarice gasped at the beauty of it. A black box lay beneath the dress on the floor. She took the both and set it on her bed, and opened it. Black ballet flats with a red, sparkly rose in the center, greeted her eyes. Clarice held in a childish squeal, removing them from the box and placing them on her pillow for the moment. She unzipped the transparent plastic cover, and laid the gorgeous dress upon her black bedspread. She took her time peeling off her work clothes, stretching as she stood in her pink bra and panties. She slid on the dress and shoes, and wasn't surprised how they fit like a glove. Doctor Lecter knew her so well.
Turning on the lights to her en suite, Clarice stood in front of the mirror. She brushed her brown hair back, tying it back with a black hair tie. Clarice tilted her head to the side, a cheerleader tight ponytail bouncing back and forth. She didn't see the beauty Doctor Lecter saw in her. She ran a finger down her pale, flawless face and faked a small smile.
"What's becoming of you, Clarice? Hannibal Lecter is in your kitchen," she placed her hand upon the mirror softly ", and you haven't lifted a finger. Are you going insane, Starling? Why are you feeling this way? He left for a year… These feelings were supposed to disappear." She didn't feel regret for not calling for backup, and she didn't really understand why. Yet, she shook all those feelings off. She couldn't leave the Good Doctor waiting much longer. Turning off the lights, she headed downstairs to her dining room.
Doctor Lecter stood in a stunning Armani suit, his hands folding behind his back.
"Do you like the dress, Clarice?" His eyebrows rose slightly, already knowing her answer.
"I love it. Thank you." Clarice smiled, taking the seat beside her man of the hour. Without another word, she both ate their fairly small entrée. Half way through, Doctor Lecter opened his mouth to speak.
"I didn't want to do a big dinner, due to the time of night and hoping that this meal wouldn't be the main attraction."
"Understandable." Clarice managed to breathe through a fit of giggled. Nothing was more awkward than listen to such a refined man speak an innuendo sentence. The Good Doctor did nothing but smile something genuine before looking back down at his plate. They finished their mean in silence, and the Doctor cleared the table.
"So… why are you here, Doctor Lecter?"
"First of all, please call me by my given name. I believe we are well into this relationship to forget the formalities. Secondly, why would I tell you that so easily? Are you ready for another round of Quid Pro Quo?" He took Clarice by the hand and led her into the living room and sat her on the couch. Hannibal sat next to her, tilting his body for them to speak to each other with ease.
"Go, Hannibal." She spoke, his name still foreign to her tongue. Clarice didn't think she would ever be used to it.
"Clarice," he placed his hand upon hers hesitantly, as if she was made of glass ", I am here because I missed our intellectual conversations. Also, I want to be here. Now, why haven't you made the slick yet… futile move to call for backup?"
"I… I… Well," she fought her brain, trying to find the correct wording ", as you once told me 'the world is much more interesting with you in it'. I happen to think likewise of you. My turn. Are you surprised that I haven't made a move?"
"To be frank, yes. Clearly you've done some emotional growing up. Now, please tell me… and don't lie, or I'll know. Have the lambs stopped screaming, Clarice?"
Clarice looked down to her hand that was covered by his. Using her free hand, she traced patterns within his skin. Closing her eyes, she took a breath…
"Only when I'm dreaming of you."
Hannibal stared at her in silence, while the distant clang of the clock striking ten filled their ears.