Warning: Some mature, vaguely explicit content!
Ophelia had never heard so many birds singing at once. Accompanied by the babbling of a nearby stream, the sound of their chorus of songs filled the sunset with an ease that settled onto the two still figures below them. Ophelia and Will sat perched on boulders at the edge of a small lake nestled deep in the mountains of northern Georgia. It sat about a mile north of Will's cabin, and they had spent the entire day frolicking on its banks and fishing for their dinner. Ophelia was quite pleased with the change of scenery; she was relieved when they first arrived to find that she no longer needed her enormous winter coat. Leaving it abandoned in the cabin, she had burst out into the sunshine in old ripped jeans and a cotton tee, not caring in the slightest that the scars on her arms and collarbone were starkly visible.
She had been happier in the few days that they had been isolated together than in her entire life put into one, so she figured. Waking up to find Will on the couch drinking coffee in the silence of early morning was oddly comforting, as if he were a stalwart protector, there when she awoke and when she lay down to sleep at night.
Spending every moment of every day with him had been more than therapeutic; it had been a miracle. Ophelia had not thought once of her lost memories or of Hannibal, or of the horrible dreams that had plagued her. All she thought of was the trees, the clear Georgia sky, the lake and stream, and Will. He was warmth and he was safety, whether she explicitly realized it or not. Whenever he smiled at her, she felt it. After she caught her first fish, he smiled. The warmth spread. She started a fire on her own and roasted a stick full of marshmallows and he smiled. It was not the fire, then, that warmed Ophelia's bones.
The way his glasses never sat quite straight on the bridge of his nose, the sweaters he always bundled himself up in, the nervous way he ruffled his hair when she stood close for too long; Will was in his own way perfectly imperfect. Ophelia longed to adjust his glasses, to feel the soft fabric of his sweater, and to run the tips of her fingers through his untamable hair. She could not quite put a name to the feeling of warmth that his presence created within her, but she knew that she did not ever want it to go away.
"It'll be getting dark soon," Will began to reel in the line that he had just cast, the hook at the end empty, "We should head back. Maybe start another fire."
"More s'mores?" Ophelia grinned, following suit and reeling in her line.
"If you want," he smiled, leaning down to collect the tackle box from the base of the boulder on which he was perched, "we can run into town to get hotdogs if that sounds appetizing."
"Oh, yeah," Ophelia grinned, sliding down from her boulder and stretching her arms above her head, "Feast of champions."
Will chuckled, "Fine dining at its best."
"Ghost stories tonight," Ophelia followed Will as he started down the path that they had created from the cabin to the lake, "by the fire? That's a pretty typical camping thing, so I hear."
"I'll have to make up some ghost stories," Will fibbed, "I don't know too many."
"Well neither do I," Ophelia leapt over a cluster of roots, "So we can just make it all up as we go along!"
Before Will had a chance to respond, there was a crackling and a rustling through the trees just out of their line of vision. They both froze, their lures swinging back and forth from the ends of their fishing poles.
"What was that?" Ophelia hissed.
Will's eyes scanned the tree line, "Probably just a deer. Keep moving." He grabbed her fingers and pulled her forward, urging her along with every step.
A dark figure flashed through Ophelia's peripheral vision and she stopped. She could barely make out what it was before it disappeared from view.
"There it is again," Ophelia muttered, this time pulling her fingers from Will's grasp and abandoning the path.
"What do you think you're doing?" Will hissed, lunging forward in an attempt to grab her. But his fingers came just short of the hem of her shirt as she dropped her fishing pole and darted further into the trees.
"I saw it!" she called, now running at a full sprint, "A huge black deer! A stag!"
Will's stomach dropped, "No!" he called, his voice cracking and his head beginning to pound, "Don't follow it! It's a trap! Ophelia! Ophelia, come back!"
The only response he was given was the sound of her feet crunching on fallen branches and leaves. He followed her as best he could, weaving between trees. His eyes remained locked on the tiny flashes of blonde that he caught every now and then as she flung herself further into the growing evening darkness.
Finally, as Will burst through a thicket of trees into a clearing, he caught up with her. She stood in the middle of the small, clear patch of grass and flowers, her eyes locked onto a bit of darkness just beyond the tree line. The moon was just beginning to rise, casting faint shadows across her face.
"What is it?" Will took a step toward her, dropping the tackle box at his side.
"Do you see it?" Ophelia whispered, pointing into the shadows, "It's right there."
"What? What do you see?" he took another step forward, his hands slowly rising in case he had a need to catch her. Perhaps this was one of her episodes. He could have sworn she was better. He had even been feeling a bit better.
"It's right there," she took a tentative step forward, "Just right-" And without any warning, the ground beneath her collapsed and she fell, her screams echoing as she descended into the darkness.
Will threw himself down onto his stomach, dangling over the edge of the hole in the earth, "Ophelia! Oh my God, Ophelia!"
There was a thump and a few muffled curses, and then Ophelia's voice rang out, "I'm fine! I'm okay!"
Will squinted into the darkness, "Where are you?"
"It's a cave!" she called, "There's a tunnel! I want to see where it leads; come down here!"
"You want me to willingly jump into a hole in the middle of the woods? How far down are you?"
"Well when you say it like that... It's a few feet and then an incline down to the floor. Bend your knees and you'll be fine!"
"Jesus Christ..." Will stood, rubbing his forehead with the back of his hand, "Ridiculous... fine! I'm coming down." He hurried to the tackle box, digging through lures and bits of soggy bread until he found his old flashlight. It barely shed any light on the dark hole before him, but it was better than nothing. With a deep breath, he slid down into the hole, expecting a deep drop like something leading to Wonderland. But instead after a brief second of falling, his feet found a slope. And within moments, he slammed into Ophelia, who was waiting for him on solid ground.
"I can't believe you just convinced me to do that," Will shook his head, hitting his flickering flashlight against the palm of his hand, "How are we going to get out of here?"
Ophelia shrugged, grinning, "We'll figure something out. Adventure, right?" And with that she took off down the narrow dirt corridor before them, Will hurrying along behind her with the flashlight in hand.
After a few moments of silent clambering, the small passage opened up into an enormous chamber, lit by a beam of moonlight that cut through a hole in the ceiling. In the far corner of the room was a pool of illuminated water that led underneath a rocky overhang.
"Wow," Ophelia guffawed, "This is not what I was expecting," she walked over to the pool of clear water and slipped off one shoe, dipping her toe into the shallow edge.
"Well?" Will tapped his foot on the dirt floor. As much as he enjoyed watching Ophelia discover and adventure, he was still quite worried about how they would get out of the cave.
"The water's warm," Ophelia turned back to him, grinning, "and that tunnel leads to the lake; you can see it if you squat." She leaned down and pointed to where the water disappeared below the overhang.
"So..." Will shook his head, not quite following her logic.
"So," Ophelia removed her other shoe, "we swim for it!"
Before Will could protest, she began to fumble with the buckle on her jeans. His face flushed with heat and his eyes darted around the cavern as Ophelia shimmied out of her trousers and tossed them to the side, along with her shoes. When Will allowed his eyes to wander over her body again, she stood with her back to him, clad in nothing but her underwear and bra. He felt as if he should not be looking, but there was something entrancing about the way the moonlight hit her skin. It nearly entirely erased the scars that covered her skin and turned her hair a bright shade of white, almost ethereal. He watched as she slowly lowered herself into the water, shivering ever so slightly.
Once the water reached her chest, she turned to face him, a smile spreading across her face, "Well? Aren't you getting in?"
"I-I..." Will looked down at the ground, the flashlight flickering out, then back at Ophelia, her face expectant.
"It's the only way we're getting out of here," Ophelia turned around in circles, her voice a sing-song bell. Her fingers absentmindedly slid underneath the straps of her bra, and Will's glasses slid an inch down his nose.
"Aren't you... cold, or..."
Ophelia laughed and splashed forward, advancing on Will with a glint in her eye. The water glistened on her small body in the moonlight and his breath caught in his throat.
"Come on," Ophelia's fingers latched onto the front of his sweater, "live a little." Will's eyes darted downward, quickly drinking in her body. Once he allowed himself to have a momentary indulgence, he felt a warm knot begin to grow in his stomach.
With her assistance, Will slipped out of his sweater. He was rarely this willing to be so vulnerable in the presence of women. Perhaps it was the full moon.
"Hurry up," Ophelia spun around, tossing Will's shirt into the pile with her clothes, "it's warmer in the water."
Will obeyed, shakily slipping out of his shoes and unbuckling his jeans. With slow steps, he followed Ophelia across the dirt floor and into the water. She had been right; the water was extraordinarily warm.
He was suddenly very aware of how close he and Ophelia were. They stood face to face in the center of the pool, her chest pressing against his bare skin. Will wanted nothing more than to brush her hair out of her face. He had never quite noticed until now how lovely her face truly was. Her eyes were kind, and her mouth was settled into an eternal smile.
Without fully realizing what he was doing, Will brought his hand up to the side of her face, his thumb rubbing a droplet of water from beneath her eye. His hand remained there for a moment, for he did not know what else to do but enjoy the warmth of her cheek against his hand.
But in one deft movement, Ophelia pulled his face down to hers and kissed him firmly, wrapping her arms around his neck. His lips parted as he mindlessly accepted the kiss, stumbling further into the water. Will allowed his hands to slide down her body to rest on her hips as they waded further into the pool together. Soon, Ophelia's head was barely above water, so Will hoisted her up so that her legs wrapped around his waist, the kiss deepening. Her hands clasped onto the back of his neck, anchoring to him as they stumbled deeper and deeper.
And then, Will stumbled over a rock on the floor of the pool and they pitched over, splashing into the warm water, a tangled mess of limbs. Ophelia's laughter echoed around the cavern once they regained their balance, standing a few inches apart on solid ground. Will could not help but let her laughter infect him; he began to chuckle along with her. She set off backwards, wading deeper into the pool and sending playful splashes in Will's direction. A smile spread across his face, and he tossed his glasses onto the bank with the rest of his clothes as he advanced after her, splashing right back.
Ophelia's back smacked into the wall of rock that made up the back end of the pool, and she let out a delighted shriek as Will advanced, still splashing away. But before she could retaliate or duck away, he stopped, the water undulating around his bare chest. For a moment he just stared at her, both of their cheeks tinged with pink and their hair dripping.
And then, she slipped the straps of her bra from her shoulders and undid the clasp. She tossed it aside, her eyes trained on Will's. He felt his face flush with heat and his stomach flop and flutter. The heat in his face trickled down into the pit of his stomach as Ophelia leisurely ran the tips of her fingers across her bare collarbone. The water, coming up to just beneath where her fingers played, distorted her nearly fully exposed body. The knot in Will's stomach lurched.
Ophelia placed her hands on Will's chest. She felt his muscles tense at her touch; a smile played on her lips. Her hands wandered, leaving his chest and trailing down to his abdomen, and then back up again to his shoulders. Will felt as if she was inspecting him, gaging his worth.
But then her hands clasped his and guided them to the bit of soft skin beneath her neck, "I want you to feel me." Her hands were but a soft whisper on his, for she intended to allow him full control over her body. Something in the back of her mind urged her to reassure him that she was real. That, there in the light of the moon, he was safe and in control. So she removed her hands from his and took a step closer, water lapping between them.
Will's hands tentatively roamed over her shoulders, stirring slightly at the feeling of bones pressing harshly against skin. His hands flitted down again, soft as butterflies, to her chest. Breath hitching in his throat, his hands wandered downward ever further, and Ophelia did not protest.
She reached up and knotted her fingers in his hair, pulling him downward. He obeyed, leaning down and hitching his hands underneath her thighs and lifting her up. Her back pressed against the rock wall, he kissed her again, pressing his chest against hers to keep her from falling. Her fingers wound tighter in his curls, and his dug into the underside of her thighs, eliciting from her a small, breathy gasp.
For the slightest of moments, he imagined her with Hannibal in this way. He imagined his hands roaming her delicate body, his mouth on hers. And instead of causing him to shrivel as it once would have, it made him brazen, as if by touching Ophelia in this way, he was marking his territory.
And yet, this did not feel like a "tactic". There was nothing he wanted more in that moment than to be skin to skin with Ophelia. He could think of nothing more than her breath mingling with his, and the water lapping between them. For a brief moment, he felt as if he knew himself.
But Will was snapped from his thoughts when Ophelia nipped at the skin of his neck, playfully but firmly. She shimmied out of his grasp and dunked below the water for a moment, her fingers trailing down his torso as she went.
She reemerged, a trickster's glint in her eye, and purred, "Let's get out of here." And without a word, she ducked below the stone wall, leaving Will to collect their clothing and follow into the dark night.
The shooting range in Baltimore was mostly deserted that night; it was far too cold for anyone to leave their homes. Anyone save two dark figures in the farthest corner, who had spent the majority of their day there.
The manager of the dingy establishment watched them with listless disinterest from the window by his desk. He watched as the recoil of their most recent test subject sent a mass of red curls stumbling into the wall. The second much more substantial, figure tore the shotgun from her hands and popped a few rounds into the target before them, as if instructing her.
The red curls tried again, and this time managed to hit the target without losing her balance. A gleeful laugh echoed around the range as the swinging lights overhead continued to flicker.