So I have someone staying in the room I write in, not someone I'm fond of to boot. So I may not post the next week or two.
We don't get to Will's place until two in the morning, the two drunk lovebirds behind Hannibal and myself giggling like fools. But I can't lie; I love me some drunk shenanigans and these two are the best to do it with. I nod for Hannibal to grab Will and I'll get Alana. I sling her arm over my shoulder, forcing her to walk. I suddenly feel her crude breathe dipping into my ear.
"He 'ants you, 'Lest. Jus' do et!" She chuckles. I wonder if she can understand herself or if it's just mindless chatter.
"Damn you're drunk as fuck. Let's get you on the couch." I set her down gently, talking to Will's kitchen. I grab four bottles of water and return to find Alana already sleeping. I set the bottles beside her, knowing she'll thank me tomorrow. And gesture for Hannibal to do the same.
By the time we get back in the car, it's two fifteen in the morning and I just want to get the fuck home. But I feel a heavy subject on a thin wire hanging above my head. Is he gonna bring it up? Nah, he won't bring it up. It's been like five minutes since we got in the-
"Would you like to talk about it?" Ah, go fuck yourself, you damn sweetheart. Hannibal's voice wraps around me; I feel the therapist in him emerge from the shadows.
"Talk 'bout what?" I look to him, earning a sly grin. He licks his lips, slowly, taunting an answer form me.
"If you don't want to discuss it, that's alright. Anger and rage can make someone act brashly, without thinking about consequences." His statement was coaxing me to correct him. I don't take the bait exactly, but I step around it.
"What's to talk about, Hannibal? We kissed."
"You kissed me." Well shit. We've hit zugzwag.
"Then you kissed me back and stopped it." I groan, leaning my head against the dashboard. He's irritating but I want everything to do with him. I want the ride to never end but I also want it to end. This is why I stopped getting emotionally invested; too much shit.
"Are you upset because I pulled back from you?" His eyes shift to me, looking for any emotion.
"No, I don't care. You didn't want to kiss me, it's fine." I hear Hannibal sigh, watching him lift his hand to pinch the bridge of his nose. He slows as he hits an empty portion of the freeway, not other cars in sight. Not like I question the travel anomaly; I just want to get home… but I also want to stay in the car…
"I wouldn't have kissed you back if I didn't want to kiss you at all."
"Then you regretted it, because you felt obligated to kiss me back." Fuck, is this high school all over again? Sticky backseat fumbles and dumb conversations about shit that didn't need to be addressed?
"Celest," his fingers tap against the steering wheel ", just let me finish. I regret nothing, nor did I not want to kiss you. It was sudden on your part, I fear you may have acted due to the adrenaline from your verbal fight with Miss Lounds. I didn't want your emotion to full action, but your action to full emotion."
"Spoken like a true psychiatrist, vague and odd." I give a soft smile, looking over to him. I see him smirk as well.
"So was it emotion to action or action to emotion?"
I feel stumped. Which one was it, Celest? I can't tell… I was feeling pretty angry during that fight, but by the time I went outside I felt pretty cooled down. I didn't feel angry when I kissed him… I think. Shit, this is too confusing. I should have kept to myself, just went inside.
"It's okay not to know."
"We can try again." The words leave my mouth before I can register them. I feel the car slow and turn into my driveway… that felt quicker than half an hour.
I face him, my mouth dry and palms clammy. He looks much more collected than me, his lips slightly parted and eyes light with relaxation. He suddenly gets out, walking to my side and opening the door. He offers his hand as I unbuckle my seatbelt, so I take it, leading into the same position as when we first kissed; a strong arm on my back, one around my waist, and his forehead to mine. The moment of stillness between us is him asking permission, so I do nothing. I let him kiss me and I kiss him. It's simplistic and light, hands griping his back tightly. This felt better than the kiss in the bar alleyway. This felt less primal, more action to emotion based. But this time I pull away, gliding my hands across him and up his chest. I can tell he knows my answer, a gentle smile upon his lips.
"I wanna invite you in." I whisper, feeling his arms tighten around me, possessive and comfortable.
"But you can't. I also wouldn't accept." He kisses my cheek.
"I can't, but it's 'cause I have to work early. And I know you wouldn't, you're a gentleman… whatever that is now a days." I wink, leaving him with a hug. I skip up the stairs to my door, collapsing as soon as I hit the bed.
When I wake, I still have the same dopey grin. I also don't really give all that much of a shit about said grin. Kissing Hannibal felt good, it felt right. No doubt it'll make Will and Alana happy too… well, once they get over their hangovers. But fuck it, it was good, so I'll let myself feel good. With a renewed pep in my heels, I go to start my working day.
I shower and towel off, tying my semi-dry hair into a messy bun. With my dance gear in a bag slung over my shoulder, I head out to the garage in a big heavy sweater. Before I back out of the warmth of my home, I check my texts.
'Thanks for not letting me drink too much last night, I almost had an episode but I kept it under wraps. I think they're getting better… anyway, hope you and Hannibal had a good time.' Will had texted me around nine this morning, probably between the moments when his head was slung over a porcelain bowl.
'Thx for the water. Dying. Text later.' Alana is much less formal when she texts, it's almost laughable. She's so straight edge and intimidating at work, then text speak all night long. I laugh, finally making my way to work. I give a sigh as the studio comes into view. It's felt like forever since I got to dance with my kids.
"Mornin' Stella, how've ya been?" I wave, the redhead peering over the reception desk to give a wave.
"Hey 'Lest! I'm great, how've you been?"
"Good, good. Gotta go stretch, though. Haven't done much dancing this week. Wanna do lunch?" I earn a thumbs up from Stella as I run to the teachers change room. I slide on shorts and a muscle shirt, the studio thoroughly heated in contrast to outside. I hold the numerous shoes within my hands, fumbling my way into the large empty studio.
I take a deep breath, the smell of mirror cleaner and light perfume seeping into my pores. This is where I belong; on these grey, hard floors. I hook my phone up to the stereo, flinging through my dance class playlist. I put on some pop jam, the name I don't care for, but I toss on my jazz shoes and start working my muscles out. I feel myself succumbing to the music; I feel the next stretching dance move. The beat has infected my heart, my dance all primal need to move. From the corner, I take three steps before leaping into the air, legs out and back in…
"Celest?" I hear a voice say, ripping me from my world. My foot slips, toes just grazing the floor before I collapse. I crush my hand under my chest, and my hip feels pretty sore, but thank fuck I didn't smash my head off the ground. I roll onto my back; which motherfucker thought interrupting me creating art was a good god damn idea?
"I'm sorry, I didn't think I'd make you slip. I was going to call sooner, but your dance was mesmerizing." My vision stops bluring, a very sad Hannibal appearing above me.
"God damn it, I coulda smacked my head off the ground."
"Good thing I used to be a surgeon." He gives a proud smile, taking my hands within his own and lifting me to my feet.
"What are you doing here? How'd you even figure out where I work- Oh. Will told you, didn't he?" I cross my earns, watching him shrug.
"He may have mentioned it," He suddenly smirks, eyelashes batting at me. I thought that shit only worked for Disney princesses, but apparently it works for men too ", I brought you a light breakfast. I figured you hadn't eaten yet." He leads me to the table in the far corner, typically used for writing down routines, where he sets down a plastic bag.
"Simple fruit salad, light and sweet, yet perfect fuel for your body on a work day. The main fruit is honey dew melon, topped with raspberries and blackberries. It's topped with a thin strawberry and pineapple sauce, rich in its own sugar." The bowl of colour wafts a scent my way; so sweet and enticing. I find myself grabbing the fork without question.
"You're gonna make me fat one day." I laugh, watching Hannibal sit across from me with his own fruit.
"You plan on giving me the time to make you gain weight via food?" He raises an eyebrow, his tongue licking the sauce from a glistening raspberry before wrapping his lips around it.
"Loaded question." I grumble, sticking my tongue out at him. Hannibal simply laughs.
We take our time with breakfast, talking about last night's crazy intruder. He tells me all about Lounds and her rude escapades. I can't help but grab my phone and pull up her articles.
"You shouldn't piss off a guy who thinks about killing people for a living? Now this is why I love Will, this is why we're friends. That's just awesome." I snort, setting the phone on the table. Hannibal gives his own chuckle, grossing his lean legs over one another.
"He's so mild tempered, and while he's had his moments, I've never seen him be so bold."
"I have," I lean forward, ready to tell this story ", so it's two years ago and I coax Will to go to this concert with me. It's a pretty heavy band and I wasn't sure he'd be able to handle it, but he figured a room full of people paying attention to the band and not him would be okay. So, we've been in line for like, six hours already. There was only three people in front of us. Then suddenly, twenty minutes before the door open, twenty of their friends show up. Like, after all that waiting, they fucked us. Well, Will goes off and fucking snaps. Every dirty word you can think of? He spat it in their face. It was fuckin' rad. They all ended up leaving, crying. Shit was rad." All Hannibal did was shake his head, a smile on his chiseled features.
"Anyway, thanks for breakfast. Just be more careful when you see me stretching next time." I set my fork in my bowl and put the lid on top of that.
"There's a next time. Good." I laugh at his 'matter of fact' voice, giving a nod.
"Sure, your breakfast is great!"
"My dinner is better. I'll have you over soon." He looks to me for confirmation, putting the bowls and whatnot in his bag.
"Sweet, let's do that as soon as we can, kay?" I stand, stretching out my previously stretched muscles. Great, I only left myself twenty minutes to work my body out…
"It does take a while to create a feast. But I'm sure in the next week, I'll have something wonderful for you. I hope you don't mind different."
"It's my middle name." I push my chair in and, without thinking at all, I give him a kiss on the cheek. I swear I see him flush the lightest shade of pink… ah, little ol' composed perfect man can get flustered.
"I'll call you later." He stands up straight, suddenly composed again. Hannibal grins a coy grin, paired with a wink before leaving my dance floor. I can't wipe the grin off my face as I hook up my phone and go back to my art.
Yeah, yeah my relationship development sucks dick. But I wanted to get this out before I couldn't anymore D: The next update may not be for a whole week, so stick with me, okay?
xoxoPN