" Hannibal the Cannibal "

requested by guest

He reminded her of an exotic breed of fox, wide eyes following her every movement and teeth sharpened to strike. When his voice scathed out from his vocal chords, there was an ever-so delicate accent mingling in with the syllables. With a pressed suit and a proper crossing of the legs, Dr. Hannibal Lecter left the meak Genevieve Forde feeling insignificant and ordinary.

While Will was the most adorable puppy (with droopy eyes and floppy ears and wittle-ittty-bitty tail that wagged every time he saw her) in her book, she quickly noted Lecter's menacing undertones and made a mental bookmark to never get on his bad side.

Outfitted in a slimming dress and cardigan, topped off with bright blue pumps, Gen couldn't help but feel a bit self conscious as she set her tea down on the table beside her. Hoping that she hadn't dropped the tea set in too much of a clatter, she swallowed the hotness and shot Hannibal a smile.

He was posed across from her, his fist draw to his face and tucked beneath his chin. Hannibal had been watching this woman with a curious gaze for at least five minutes now. He wondered what made her so unique from all the other women in the world.

Her face was bright; attractive. Her hair was pulled into and intricate crown of braids, swept off her neck, followed by modest jewelry. A smattering a freckles lined the bridge of her nose and cheekbones, laying beneath the shadow of gentle cat-eyed glasses. A soft color in lipstick, hinting that she wasn't one to go bold, decorated her puckered lips.

Her dress, black in color, was neither too short or too long, too tight or too loose. A modest fit for a modest woman. A splash of color with a blue belt and her cardigan? To match the heels, of course. She has lovely taste, thought Hannibal, Impressive.

Hannibal caught glimpses of skin that sent his mind wandering. Her long legs and her wrists, her collarbone and her neck. Squinting, he thought he saw the remnant of a hickey, faded and gone. She was rather beautiful in his eyes, which only left him wondering what she meant to Will.

There were boundaries there that Dr. Lecter intended to push.

"How long have you and Special Agent Graham been together, Miss Forde?"

Genevieve's gaze lit up. "A year and 7 months."

"And you've enjoyed that year and seven months?"

"I'm still enjoying it," she smiled, a bit of worry masked behind rows of white teeth. Why was he asking her these things?

"And Will?"

"He was happy."

"You used the past tense, Miss Forde."

Gen opened her mouth, but nothing came out until she swallowed and tried again. "Will's nightmares have gotten worse. Even I can't calm him down. He doesn't like being with me because he's afraid he'll hurt me."

"Has he ever?"

"No, never," Gen almost laughed, "He would never forgive himself if he did."

"Why's that?" Hannibal's brow raised significantly. He reached for his own tea, scooping up the dish and cup to his lips.

"He'd feel horrible," she reasoned; her hands waved about, "The whole empathy thing."

Reaching for her own cup, Gen took a sip, careful not to burn her mouth.

"And what about the sex?"

The question had literally rocketed out of the blue, leaving her a mess as she fumbled to cough up the tea that was making a b-line down her windpipe and not spill her whole entire cup of Earl Grey upon herself.

Hannibal, a smug look on his face, merely apologized. "My apologies, Miss Forde. I hadn't meant—"

"No, no," she swallowed, composing herself, "Its, uh— good."

"Good?"

"Great. Fantastic," suddenly taking interest in the rug, Gen awkwardly crossed her legs, fiddling with her watch, she began to wonder when the session would end. "Awesome."

For the rest of the session, Hannibal had a pertinent smugness to his actions, even being so bold to smile into his tea as he questioned their "positioning" and "satisfaction". His chin was up turned at her shyness and modesty as he quietly took in all the information and moved along.

Finally, at 6:45 pm, the session ended and she moved to gather her coat and purse. Hannibal saw her out, holding the door open and even place the palm of his hand flat against the small of her back as he lead her through the office and to the front door.

Gen thought he kept his hand on her far too long.

She didn't like it.

Something was off with Dr. Hannibal Lecter.