I am a night owl. Plain and simple. To all the morning people out there, kudos to them and their ability to start the day fresh, fabulous, and forth coming. How they can rise out of bed with a full smile and an attitude that's ready to carpe diem is beyond me, and frankly it's not a lifestyle I plan to adopt any time soon. Those people, the merry early risers, they can have the worm. Me, I'm in love with the moon, the stars, the busying bodies that search for midnight adventure. I relish the street carts full of cheap greasy food, the come-hither lights of bar signs, and the fragrance of cigarettes. The dark is full of mystery, not frightening but alluring me to trek further into it. I am a night owl. I can stay up every night of the week, no problem.
The night that began at The Depot Lounge, it remains as one of the most eye-opening experiences of my life. The uncertainty of that evening, it still clings to my thoughts like a swarm of flies.
A low lighted room filled with leather and wood decor made up The Depot Lounge, and ever since I've been able to pay my own bills consistently I've been a happy attendee. I was in familiar territory, you see. I should have been relaxed, taking in the scent of freshly cut tobacco as men around me clipped their cigars. But, I wasn't relaxed at all. For the first time sliding into an open booth, with Dr. Lecter scooting in beside me and across from my sister, I felt a sense of unease creep along my skin. Like a teenager introducing her boyfriend to her parents I was dreadfully nervous. Which, if we were honest here, was a large dramatization. Dr. Lecter was a step above acquaintance, maybe a friend, but nothing more. Mitzy, she and I used to wrestle over plastic tea sets when we were little, each fight ending in the gnashing of teeth and the pulling of hair. She was no parent figure in my eyes and never will be. Despite where I stood with both people, in the strangest of ways, I was anxious and hyperaware of all that was around me. The strumming of easy jazz music overhead, the dulled chatter surrounding our booth, the clinking of glass tumblers and the scent of something exotic and sweet. I swallowed as my eyes focused on the high paneled ceiling. It was my only means of escape.
The design, focus on the design.
Metal swirls.
Flakes of gold.
"Relax," a voice whispered in my ear. It was low, steady. Close. "I won't let her eat us," finished Dr. Lecter while my sister stopped digging around in her purse and grinned in our direction.
"What would everyone like to drink tonight?" she asked happily, eyes lingering on Dr. Lecter.
"If you would like, I will place our orders with the bartender," offered Lecter. "And, if you trust me, Mitzy, I can surprise you with a cocktail that I doubt you've tried before."
Her eye brows rose at that. Now he had her.
"I'm down," she replied. "Thank you, kind sir."
As Dr. Lecter began leaving our booth, my sister said, "Oh, wait, you forgot about Ada."
"I know what she likes," he responded, a coy close-lipped smile teasing at his lips.
Mitzy and I both watched as Dr. Lecter made his way through the lounge's crowd, his back to us when he stood at the bar.
"Ada…"
"Don't."
"Ada…"
"No."
"Ada!"
"Ugh, what?"
"Marry him."
"Stop."
"You have to!"
"You don't even know his last name," I breathed.
"So? Marry that man. He's phenomenal, I can tell!"
Against my will, I found myself grinning back at my excited sister, happy to see her happy about something so mundane.
"He's a little older, don't you think?" she commented, her attention trailing to stare at the good doctor as he watched the bartender work his magic. "Oh, but look at that ass."
"I'm not going to look, and he is older. I suppose. Not that his age matters considering that he's just a colleague, someone I've met only about a month ago, Mitzy."
"Where?"
"My flight back from Europe. We sat next to each other."
"Huh. Does he have fur rugs?"
"What?"
"Fur rugs. Does he have them?"
"Why would-"
"Seems like the type."
"-I know that?"
"He's gotta be in his forties. He has laugh lines."
"Where are you right now?"
"Where your brain should be. In the game. In the dating world which has given you a rare specimen to try out."
"Try out? Jesus, he's not a car-"
"Don't make me text Patti."
At her warning, I glowered.
"One, you wouldn't," I said. "Two, why would you?"
"One, I will. And two, you're being stupid. I'll say you've met a man and are too prude to fuck him."
"That's a huge leap you're making…"
"No it isn't. You're a prude, Ads. Just admit it."
"Not that," I murmured. "Last I checked, sexual activity is most enjoyed when it's consensual, as in both parties are up for it. I don't think he's even attracted to me."
"I caught him staring at your boobs."
My eyes narrowed in on my sister and as expected, hers sheepishly glanced away.
"Okay, I didn't," she relented.
"I know he didn't," I declared. "He's been very polite since the day I first met him. It would seem out of character."
"Oh, and here I thought you barely knew him!" mocked Mitzy.
"Eat a dick," I snipped.
"I suppose one of us has to…"
Just as I was about to sass back at my sister, her eyes pointed to the approaching Dr. Lecter, drinks in hand. I bit back my words, glaring at Mitzy's victorious demeanor.
"Brandy for myself, a surprise for Mitzy, and whiskey on the rocks for Miss Ada," said Lecter as he rejoined me at our seat.
"Wow!" cried my sister. "For barely knowing one another he certainly has you pegged, doesn't he, Ads?"
I ignored the double message, taking a long drink from my whiskey instead.
"What do I owe you?" I asked Lecter.
"Your company," he answered softly in my ear.
I refused to look the man in the eyes. Not that it mattered. I'm sure whatever blush was surely coloring my cheeks gave me away.
"What is this, Hannibal?" Mitzy said to him after sampling her glass. "It's delicious."
"It's a vesper," he told her. "Three measures of Gordon's, one of vodka, half a measure of Kina Lillet with a lemon peel."
"James Bond?" I asked.
He turned to me, the corner of his lips pulling up in a sort of smirkish smile.
"Yes, very good, Miss Ada," he said with a deep stare that held my attention.
That time, there was no escape. It was as if he made a point to capture my direct attention, all of it. There was something undeniably magnetic about those eyes, those burning orbs of reddish brown that changed with whatever mood the man was secretly feeling. They were his only flaw to his mystery, his eyes, the only way that I had a clue that he was feeling at all. I could never turn away. As I stated before, his eyes, the windows to Lecter's soul, they were like blackened glass to a magnificent mansion. What lied within them, who knew? I saw only mystery. But I kept looking in, in those seared sunset eyes. I searched for light.
"Am I spy material, Hannibal?" teased my sister. "Is that what you're trying to say here?"
At that, the man slowly looked away from me and back at my sister. His shoulders shrugged indifferently.
"Who's to say?" he asked. "James Bond is a complex character with many traits."
"Well, it doesn't matter. You can learn about me later. Now, I hear an accent. Are you from somewhere in Europe?"
"Lithuania, but most of my adolescent years were spent in France."
"I'm not going to even pretend I know where Lithuania is," she joked. "But France? Tell me about that."
And the conversation carried on. And on. And on. I gave the right amount of nods and smiles as Mitzy dissected Dr. Lecter, asking about his profession, his tastes, his travels, information about his family which was a somber subject, and yes, if he was single. Multiple times I prayed that I was invisible. Or dead. Or that the hour and thirty or so minutes was just a very vivid nightmare. God must've forgotten about me because a drink or three later, Mitzy was still prattling on about Dr. Lecter and how well versed he seemed. The man, bless him, answered all her questions politely, giving enough detail to sedate her curiosities.
At last when Mitzy excused herself to use the restroom, I was able to turn to Dr. Lecter and apologize.
"There is no need for that," he said kindly. "I'm enjoying myself in the company of you and your sister. You rescued me from an uneventful evening alone."
"Oh, I rescued you?" I countered. "Good, because for a moment there, maybe it was in between the questions about your college years or where you shop for your wardrobe, I thought that I had thrown you into Hell."
"Perhaps she is a small part of your own Hell, but to me she is only a doting sibling interested in the friends of her younger sister. She loves you very much."
My shoulders shrugged as I finished my second finger of whiskey. He was right. She cared for me a lot, and I did love Mitzy back, overanalyzing bitch and all.
When she arrived back at our booth, she said with a yawn that she ought to head home for the night. By then, the lounge had doubled in numbers, the tables difficult to navigate through without having to carefully shimmy past the other bar goers.
Leading the way with Lecter close behind, I managed to get to the front of the lounge without incident. It was when I accidently collided with a man holding a glass of wine did things go awry.
"What the hell?" he blabbed in my face, his words messy and slurred. My nose wrinkled at the rank stench of alcohol that seeped off his flakey lips. His question roused the attention of a few other men beside him, I'm assuming to be those also in his party.
I did my best to move past the man, but his stout frame purposely blocked the way.
"Excuse me," I said while keeping my eyes on the ground.
"Excuse me, what, pretty lady?" he chortled, some of his spit spraying and landing on my face. "Where do you think you're going?"
"The door. Please move."
The stranger, a portly fellow whose face was reddened from drunkenness, felt the need to close the space between my body and his. He staggered towards me, causing my muscles to instantly tense.
"What if I want you to stay awhile, huh, sugar? You look like you could use some fun to loosen ya' up."
"Please move."
"Or what?" he replied, one of his chubby hands reaching up to grab my shoulder. "Or what, pretty baby?"
Just as he was about to touch me, I quickly swatted his hand away. At that, the man turned to his friends and laughed. They, too, were boisterous. However, no one else seemed to notice what was happening in the lounge between me and the asshole and his merry band of assholes.
"Oh, so you're a naughty baby!" he exclaimed.
I swallowed, then lurched at the small sensation of someone's body grazing the back of my own.
"Is there a problem, gentlemen?"
The voice was right by my ear, cordial yet firmly demanding of their attention. It was Dr. Lecter's. I sensed him standing directly behind me, his frame encompassing and his hand gently resting on the small of my back.
"The only problem here, asshole," garbled the man. "Is that this lovely piece of ass isn't-"
"I suggest that you do not complete that sentence," interrupted Lecter, his tone still carrying that tinge of polite authority.
"And who the fuck are you?"
Conflict. I felt it sting in the air like the static before a lightning strike. Looking up at Lecter, at his serene face, I saw a new man who rang of silent danger. It was so slow, the moment that I squinted through his composure and into his windows. I've seen such a look before in the eyes of human beings, most who have sat across from me in my home. It's a spark of the driving force that has pushed mankind to have lasted so long on this earth. Instinct. Survivalism. The deadly glint in the eye of a predator before it goes in for the kill. From such close proximity, I saw it in Dr. Lecter for the first time in my life.
Maybe that was it. Nothing else about his expression indicated anything emotive. His face was smooth like porcelain. It was the look in his eyes. Maybe, too, it was the pressure of his finger tips on my lower back that dug harder after hearing the drunkard's challenge. Maybe that was what planted the seed to my uncertainty of what I later would feel. I saw it for the first time in Dr. Lecter that night. The look. Instinct.
Maybe I'm not so alone after all.
"It doesn't matter," I answered to the stranger, my eyes flitting from Lecter to glare into the other man. "Because you're going to move out of our way. Now."
"And if I don't-"
"If you don't, then I will personally see to the dismembering of your genitals. I will castrate you myself, ripping and tearing with fingernails, you insidious pig, because you're wasting my time, and as someone whose brother is currently committed to a mental institution for a murder attempt, I'm a little short on empathy, so you better get the fuck out of my way before this "piece of ass" decides to take away any physical indication of your gender that you might possibly possess. And I will. Believe me. And if you don't believe me, then I dare you to try and touch me one more time, you small, meaningless piece of trash. I will make you a believer. That I can guarantee."
The man magically sobered, his eyes wide and focused. I waited patiently as my words absorbed into his mind, and sure enough, he stepped to the side and allowed me to pass without another peep. His companions who must have failed to hear my words, hollered at my party as we moved, but their idiotic leader didn't even look at my face. The three of us left the bar in peace, yet I didn't allow myself to exhale until we reached the safety of the sidewalk.
"Ada," said my sister.
"What?"
"What was that about?" she asked.
We were lingering by the corner beneath the street lamp, the light revealing to me Mitzy's furrowed brow.
Before I could answer her, Dr. Lecter stepped in.
"There was a simple misunderstanding with an unruly gentleman," he said. "Ada was only putting him in his place."
I carefully glanced at Dr. Lecter, doing my best to quickly assess what he could possibly be thinking. Of course, I came up empty-handed. The man was so stoic it was almost annoying.
Had Dr. Lecter heard what I told the man at the lounge? For the most part he appeared indifferent. He didn't meet my gaze and instead continued to maintain eye contact with Mitzy.
"Uh-huh," said Mitzy. "Okay then. Well, it was great meeting you, Hannibal, but I gotta run. I've got a husband and a little boy waiting at home for me."
"I enjoyed tonight. Thank you for inviting me on your date with Ada."
"Oh, anytime!"
Mitzy then turned and extended her arms out towards me for an embrace. As we hugged, she whispered a command in my ear.
"Take him home with you. Do it."
I frowned as she let me go, put off by her final bit of sisterly advice. After another wave of the hand, she flagged down a cab, got in it, and vanished into the city. I couldn't help but grin again at Mitzy, at her enthusiasm and what I assumed was her pleased sense of a mission accomplished.
"Where did you park?" asked Dr. Lecter.
"Oh, I didn't drive tonight. I took a cab."
Lecter stood beside me, posture straight and hands tucked away in his front pockets. Coupled with an enigmatic gaze, the man could've been posing for a magazine cover.
"Would you like me to drive you to your home?" he offered.
Shaking my head, I replied, "Nah, I can just take a cab. That's what I normally do when I go out with Mitzy anyway. Thank you though, Dr. Lecter. I appreciate you asking."
A little sigh. Barely audible, but distinct amongst the swirl of city sound. It entered the Seattle air from the mouth of my colleague. I had a feeling that it was meant to be heard as a new expression of tired disapproval spread from his jawline to his eyes. I frowned as anxiety stung in my chest, as if I was about to be reprimanded by teacher.
"Miss Ada," said Lecter in a low voice. "I would hate to punish you, but if you continue to be formal with me, then I might have to take extensive measures."
A firm frown. Dark eyes. Set jaw. After studying his face, I decided to take my chances and assume him to be kidding. I allowed my own frown to disappear and my mouth to curl into an easy smile. Feeling extra mischievous, I daringly stepped closer to the man on the corner, my stare lingering on his cross expression.
"Sorry, I couldn't hear you from all the way over there," I told him. "But did you say that you might have to punish me?"
"I did."
"How would you go about that?"
Under the halo of the street light, I felt as if I was treading on rough waters, but not the kind where I feared of drowning, but the waters that would carry me to a place that would be awakening, invigorating, and new. There is hardly an explanation as to why I was feeling the way I felt that night, jittery with excitement and anxiety. It was a safe bet to say that Dr. Lecter was to blame. Probably the only reason.
From hearing my second question, Dr. Lecter's head tilted to the side, his eyes never leaving my own.
"I'm not entirely sure, Miss Ada," said Lecter softly. "Punishing you would be a challenging ordeal. I'd have to be creative with someone such as yourself."
"You can figure something out. However, I would rather die than put you in a capital position, Hannibal. Punishment from you sounds awfully scary."
"Scarier than your sister?"
A swell of laughter left my lips.
"That's a tough call, but I'm guessing that you have the potential to be a billion times more frightening. That, I'll wager for sure."
"How do you know?" he asked.
"Hm?"
"How do you know that I'm frightening?"
"I'm not going to tell you."
Quiet and unblinking, we stared at one another, a stand-off of sorts, until finally after a long moment, both of us cracked a smile.
Ever the gentleman, Dr. Lecter offered me his arm.
"Then be obedient, Miss Ada," he said coolly. "Let me drive you home."
I hesitated, but then took his arm after deciding that it would be rude to refuse. Not every day that a man offers to walk you down the street like that.
"Fine then," I said. "But just so you know, this isn't an act of obedience or submission, Hannibal. Only the illusion that you have an effect on me at all. I'm not so easily flirted with, you know."
"Most intelligent women aren't. That is why their hearts are often regarded as prizes or a goal to be won."
"Are you objectifying me?" I teased.
"I wouldn't dare. Only complimenting."
"Is that what you're really saying, Mr. Hannibal?"
"I will leave that to your imagination, Miss Ada."
Unsure by what he meant, I chose not to reply. We walked in silence, our arms snaked around each other's and steps quietly landing on the pavement almost in sync. He led me to a small parking lot a few blocks away from the bar quarter. There, I spotted a sleek, black mid-size SUV that he clicked to life, and, not surprisingly, I was led to the passenger side and the door was opened for me.
"Since you've heard a great amount of information about me tonight," began Lecter as he pulled out of the parking lot, "I would especially enjoy hearing about the life of Ada Ives."
"It's not that fun of a subject," I said dully.
"Then tell me only the good parts."
After giving him the directions to where I lived, and after much tender prodding on his part, I allowed Dr. Lecter to ask me the most generic questions in the existence of everything.
"Where did you attend college?" he asked.
"Washington University, of course."
"Do you cook?"
"No. I'm terrible."
"I doubt that."
"You must love being wrong. You're awfully good at under and overestimating me. I once tried cooking with alcohol and nearly burned off my eye brows."
That lovely, closed, ghost of a smile graced his mouth again as the lights of Seattle raced past his face.
"Favorite book?"
"The Great Gatsby," I said.
"Hated book?"
"The Great Gatsby. I loved the wording and how pretty it sounded, but I hated the girl, that dumb what's-her-face who broke his heart and ran off with the money. Plus, I wanted the green light to mean more."
"It is said to be Gatsby's hopes and dreams of the future. What did you wish it to be?"
"Not sure. Something magical, I guess."
"Is the future not a magical thing?"
"In its own way, yeah, it's pretty great. But still, I was disappointed. I wanted there to be a tangible thing for Gatsby to hold, to know, to actually be happy with. I chucked the book out the window when I finished it, I was so mad."
"What is your favorite childhood memory?"
We wove through the busier parts of the city and towards a more subdued area of smaller shops and homes. The trees stood up like guardians, black masts that blurred and formed an army as we drove onward. I stared at them while I thought about the past, about life back then and of Adrian. I dwelled on the sunnier times where we were innocent, and wondered still if such a time was real. I thought on what he was doing at the facility while I was out having fun. His face illuminated in my mind.
"I'd rather not say," I said quietly.
In my window's reflection, I caught Hannibal watching me. On his mouth was a slight frown. I use the word slight because most of what he was showing to me thus far was so miniscule that I doubted its existence. Sure, he allowed some emotion in his facial features, but he was so choosey about them. While he was talking to Mitzy, he was much more animated, I noticed, allowing his teeth to peek out and the skin around his eyes to crinkle when he chuckled. Dr. Lecter was good at hiding what he felt, at exhibiting self-control. I didn't like that he was so careful around me though. It made me feel self-conscious, as if I wasn't a safe person that he could be himself around.
Thankfully, he respected my curt answer about my childhood and changed the subject.
"I plan to remain here in Seattle," he told me. "I've already found a property to purchase."
"Really?" I said with a bit more interest. "Sounds like a sudden decision."
"It wasn't. I've been pondering it since I first arrived. There is something about the air here. It feels cleaner, more freeing."
"Where's the property?" I asked.
"Outer city limits. A cabin."
"That'll be nice. Most people can't handle the rain."
"I enjoy it."
"Me, too."
Once the car finished climbing the hill of a small private drive, Lecter put it in park. I watched him peer through the darkness at my quiet home, the only noise coming from the black silhouette being the persistent barking of my dog.
Walking from my car and across the lawn, I immediately felt off. I sensed that there was something significantly wrong with the atmosphere, the ideal feeling of safety that my house was designed to have no longer respected but tampered with. It wasn't entirely explainable, but I knew. I know my home. I knew that it wasn't what it was supposed to be.
"Is something wrong?" Lecter asked beside me.
I had stopped moving, I realized, and was standing numbly in my front yard while Bro barked on.
"I installed motion detectors," I answered. "They should be on right now."
For a brief moment, we both stood and stared at my dark house together. It wasn't until Dr. Lecter started towards it did I speak again.
"Wait-"
"Stay here," he said over his shoulder.
Ignoring him, I trailed behind Lecter as we approached the front door. It was still locked, but even after unlocking the mechanism, I continued to be on edge.
"Ada, you should remain outside," said Lecter.
"Dr. Lec-, Hannibal," I began. "Please."
Even though it was still dark and I could barely make out his face, I knew that Dr. Lecter was staring me down. It was as if I could feel the power of those eyes of his. I still ignored him. He didn't try to dissuade me, and using our phones as flashlights, we stepped into my house's front lobby.
Bro was growling at my companion, but after I smoothed his back, his snarling ceased.
"It's okay," I soothed. To be clear, I'm not entirely sure if I was telling that to Bro or myself. It did more for him.
Dr. Lecter flicked the light switches of the front lobby and my living room, his eyes studying everything within their walls.
"I'll check the lower level and you can run upstairs," I said. "You have my permission to enter my bedroom."
"Ada-"
"Hannibal, I'm not afraid. Please stop trying to argue with me."
Before he could say another word, I turned down the hallway and began investigating on my own. I heard Lecter's footfalls as he took to the stairs, his steps continuing to sound above me as he walked about the second level.
To be honest, I wasn't quite sure what to look for. Nothing appeared overtly out of place. I'm not a clean freak anyway, so it wasn't like I'd really be aware of much difference. After checking the garage and seeing that the controls to my security lights had in fact been tampered with, the device in sleep mode, I realized that I was in a position that I hadn't been in for a long time. I was fearful. My safety was always challenged whenever I brought clients to my house, especially the ones who posed more of a pathological mindset in our sessions. Still, I trusted that they wouldn't bother me due to our strict agreements. Like I said, I wasn't quite sure what to look for. Someone had been in my house. Who it was didn't really matter to me. There were some strong contenders. Why said person had entered, that was the true question on my mind.
"The upstairs was undisturbed."
A scream rose and died in my throat, my nerves alit like fire from hearing someone suddenly so close behind me. I didn't even hear him coming. Or maybe I was just too lost in thought. Either way I almost wet my pants in front of Dr. Lecter who stood idly in the garage's threshold.
"I didn't mean to frighten you," he said gently, but I doubted the words. Based on the obvious grin he was trying to suppress, I knew that he was making fun of me. His eyes had brightened again and my cheeks burned at seeing him so smug.
"You didn't," I lied. "I was, I was just thinking that maybe I'm being too paranoid is all. I'm sure no one broke in or anything like that."
"Did you check your light system?"
"Yes. They're fine. Maybe it was a short or whatever in the system. I don't know."
Bro and I stepped around Dr. Lecter, my sights set on the comfort of my living room. After getting out of my heels and flopping on the couch, I finally allowed myself to relax. All my muscles, the nerves in my skin, and my pounding anxious heart calmed and melted in the cushions. The day had been long, and laying on my couch was like a final hallelujah.
But, I had a witness.
"Ada," prompted a man's voice.
Turning my head, I took in the sight of Dr. Lecter. He stood by the front door with his black blazer rolled in his arms. His hair was a little mussed, the short bangs flicked upward. Overall, it wasn't a bad view.
"Yes?"
He hesitated for a moment, his mouth opening and closing quickly, but whatever he had to say, he settled the matter in his mind and came out with it.
"Though we did not find an intruder, I'm not comfortable with the idea of leaving you alone here."
"I'll be fine-"
"Please," he said. "I'm not trying to disrespect you in your own house, Ada, but I wouldn't be able to forgive myself should I leave you here alone and something terrible happen to you."
A pause. It crept in at his last words, and I weighed them within it. It's not every day that I'm defied like that. I kind of liked it.
"What do you propose, Hannibal?" I said, attention honed on the man in black.
"You call Mitzy and make arrangements with her, find a hotel for the night, or stay with me."
"Or," I added. "You stay here with me."
I could have laughed at how his eyes blinked after my suggestion, but I didn't. This was no time for such behavior, and as the night was clearly going to continue to unfold, I needed to be more serious about my thoughts regarding Dr. Lecter.
"Or I spend the night here with you, yes," he agreed.
"You're very stubborn," I commented with a grin.
"And you're not?" he countered.
"I'm fully capable of defending myself. Plus, I have a dog. A dog with a stigma."
"And yet, as compelling as such an argument is, I still stand against it. Stubbornly against it."
With a heavy sigh, I rubbed my eyes with the heel of my palms. There was no shaking him. The man had a point.
"Fine," I exasperated dramatically. "You may watch over me. But only because Mitzy's probably asleep and I'm too lazy to leave my house. Also, for the record, this is not an act of submission."
"This is not an act of submission," he echoed, a taste of humor in his tone.
I rose, passing Dr. Lecter as he laid his blazer on the back of the couch.
"Are you above sweat pants?" I questioned. "Because I have some of Adrian's clothes here if you would like to change into something more comfortable."
"I am not above sweat pants, Miss Ada."
Eventually, the two of us were settled in nicely for our bizarre, adult sleepover. Dressed in t-shirts and sweatpants with glasses filled with the wine that Lecter had bought earlier in the night, we sat together on my couch in my living room. The hour was close to midnight, but I didn't feel tired. How could I?
"Don't worry," I told him after taking in the intoxicating aroma of the wine in my glass. It was a pleasant mixture of bitter sweetness, that rare happy place that non-wine drinkers such as myself lavish in. Plus, based on the label it was expensive as hell. Can't beat that.
After receiving a questioning look from my guest, I elaborated.
"I'm not going to have sex with you."
Dr. Lecter, I'm assuming not quite sure as what to say to that, stopped mid-sip.
"Is that what you thought I was assuming of the situation, Miss Ada?" he then asked.
"I have no idea what you're assuming. You're hard to read."
"As are you."
I scoffed.
"I'm pretty easy to understand. I don't like hiding things."
"So you say. Were you expecting me to want to have sex with you?"
"Partially."
"Why is that?"
"Grossly stereotyping the male gender. And my sister's persuasion, but I'll have you know, I'm not that kind of person."
"Kind of person," he mimicked.
"To sleep around with men that I've barely known over a month's time, especially after a night of drinking. That would be…"
"Irresponsible," he finished.
"Yes," I said with a nod. "That."
"You claim not to be such a woman, yet you are more believing in that I am that sort of man."
I frowned and immediately realized that I might have recklessly wounded his character. The accusation was not intended at all, at least not in a serious manner. Carefully, I backtracked.
"From my experience, men only want very few things from me. Aside from academia, the requests made by those of the opposite gender have been more focused on the flesh."
"Sex."
"Precisely. It was wrong of me to assume that you were one of those types, Hannibal. Do you forgive me?"
There, that seemed to make it all better. My apology appeared to melt away the slight rigidity in his shoulders and mouth. A smile danced in his eyes.
"Of course," he answered. "You are forgiven, Miss Ada."
We took another long swig of wine, each having some form of smirk on our mouths. His was understated, mine crooked.
"Would you sleep with me if there were different circumstances?" I asked shamelessly.
The man glanced down at his glass as he swirled the dark liquid around and around. Pondering. Thoughtful.
"I must admit, I'm very curious as to where your questions are coming from," he said.
"Are you offended by them?"
"Not at all. I appreciate how vulnerable you're being with me. Still, I have to know."
"To see if you'd answer truthfully. That's why I'm asking."
"I see. I had forgotten that you pride yourself in your abilities to catch a lie," he stated. "I'm not so easily made uncomfortable. That truth, you will learn quickly of me, Miss Ada. The topic of sex is no exception, but, to answer your question, I must ask my own: What do you mean by different circumstances?"
"No alcohol involved."
"Is that a necessary aspect?" he asked.
Hidden. Unreadable. I wasn't quite sure where he was going.
"I'd prefer not to be intoxicated. That's not really becoming of anyone. But, if I'm buzzed, like I am currently, then no. I suppose alcohol isn't a barrier entirely."
"Then, yes."
"Yes, what?"
"Then, yes, I would sleep with you if you were sober or buzzed as you claim to be now."
"Sexually?"
I saw it, a true grin ripple across his face before he tasted his wine again. It crinkled his skin and pulled at those pretty lips. I won. I successfully made Dr. Lecter genuinely smile.
"Yes," he said light-heartedly. "Sexually."
"Would we be fucking or…?"
"Or?"
"Or would it be, I don't know, "gentle"?"
"Depends on the mood."
"We agreed no alcohol."
"True, but what time of day?"
Inwardly, I was enjoying myself very much. I liked that he was playing this game with me, no matter how childish it all seemed. How fun people are when they let go of inhibitions. Or, at least the appearance of them.
"Night. Obviously."
"Why obviously?" he pressed.
"Because I'd be awake."
"It would be a very discouraging thing for you to fall asleep during our sexual experience," he said lightly. "Sober, night time, what else?"
"You tell me."
"This is your fantasy, Ada."
"You're in it, Dr. Lecter."
At my clear challenge, his eyes seemed to have darkened. I shot him a knowing look before finishing off my glass of wine.
"I'm bored," I declared abruptly.
"Am I boring you?" he asked, his brows raising in the slightest.
"Yes."
A small frown tugged at the corners of his mouth, the light in his eyes dimming as well.
"You're hard to read and I'm too tired to make you tell me things," I continued. "Therefore, I'm bored."
"What would you like to know of me?"
"I already said, remember? "The depths of who you are"."
"I think Mitzy already ruined that surprise for you," he mused.
Changing my tone into something more level, less playful, I said to him, "That man at the bar, that wasn't you."
"Are you certain of that?" said Dr. Lecter.
"Absolutely. You're still not yourself, even now."
His lips pursed. The amusement in his eyes had completely faded by then.
"Your analytical side is showing, Ada," he said to me in a clinical tone, the kind you hear in an acquaintance.
"I know."
"I am capable of being honest," he said. "I want you to know that."
"We all are. It's when we choose not to that makes me wary."
"Let's play your game then," he offered, setting down his wine glass on the glass table in front of the couch. "The one that abides by the laws of reciprocation."
"You really want to?"
"If it'll help you trust me, then yes. I'll do anything."
"Okay," I said. "You go first. Start small, please."
My colleague resettled on the couch, legs crossed and shoulders squared. His hands rested in his lap, and he wore a veil of sweet serenity. Statuesque and handsome, Dr. Lecter managed to appear even more intimidating.
"Do you like your job?" he said.
"Yes. Why did you move?"
"I needed to get away. Start somewhere new. When was your last intimate relationship?"
"A year ago. What did you need to get away from?"
He took in a breath.
"An unpleasant work environment," he exhaled. "Why did it end?"
"Why did what end?"
"Your last relationship."
"I don't know. He disappeared."
"How?" he questioned.
"Nope, my turn," I said lightly. "What made your work environment unpleasant back in Baltimore?"
"Multiple reasons, the main being the impolite nature of those I worked with. How did he disappear? The man in your last relationship."
And there on the couch with my dog sleeping at my hip and a handsome gentleman staring across from me I felt as if I was at a crossroads. The conversation could have gone in two directions. I could lie and say that my ex had cheated on me and ran off with another woman. I could lie and say that he took a job offer somewhere else and that our relationship took a backseat to his work. I could lie and say that we had a falling out, that we just couldn't make some form of social difference work between us, and the relationship that transpired was neglected and passed away like unwanted babies in the wilderness of ancient time. Plenty of opportunity to lie.
But I didn't. I went with option two. I didn't want to lie to Hannibal Lecter.
"I really don't know," I said. "One day he stopped calling and I never heard from him again."
"That sounds unsettling."
"It was. I suppose. We had dated for over a year, and at first I was worried for him, but I eventually moved on. Whatever happened, it must have carried some level of importance. We never lived together, and his things were gone when I stopped by his place to check on him."
"I wish to ask another question."
"You may."
"Does your ex-boyfriend have any impact on your difficulties with attachment?"
It was my turn to offer up a close-lipped smile, one that was polite but did not feel authentic to me.
"Your analytical side is showing, Hannibal."
"I know it is."
Placing my glass beside his, I answered, "No. It does not impact my difficulties with attachment. I believe that they were already hard at work at impacting my relationship prior to his leaving me, as evidenced by my choice to not move in with him and my lack of interest in his whereabouts."
Sitting beside him, I felt like a specimen. He did what I had been, examining every minute feature of my face with his eyes.
Instead of allowing him to wonder about what I said, I chose to interrupt his thought process.
"Maybe that's why he left me," I said.
"Perhaps."
"What is your type?"
Lecter appeared confused so I clarified.
"In women. Blondes? Brunettes?"
"I have no preferences. Do you?"
"I like ruthless men," I answered. "The kind with plans for their lives, and the ambition to get what they want without having to ask."
"Was your ex ruthless?"
"Yes, he was a defense attorney."
"Do you think I'm ruthless?" he asked with a coy smile.
"That remains to be seen," I said. "We've already established that you're stubborn, Hannibal. And, a free confession, I am somewhat attracted to that."
Standing up, I reached forward and picked up the two wine glasses from the table. I felt him watching me from the living room as I stalked into the kitchen, my own mind set on not looking at the man. After setting them in the sink, I returned to the room where Lecter resided and stood in front of him. He looked at me expectantly, and I couldn't help but smile at his innocent expression.
"I'm going to bed before I do something that I might regret," I told him.
"What would that be, Miss Ada?" he asked softly.
I know myself. I know what happens when I allow myself to stay too long with company that I'm interested in. I also knew that the fearlessness that I possessed in asking Lecter all those appallingly honest and intimate questions wasn't done without liquid courage. Four glasses worth.
"I'll leave that to your imagination, Mr. Hannibal," I replied. "Sweet dreams."
With a grin, I started to move away from Dr. Lecter and towards the stairs. Just when I was about to be out of range, I felt his hand grip my wrist. He gave my arm a short tug, making me move back to stand in front of him.
"Can I help you?" I questioned plainly.
"Let me try something," he murmured.
Slowly, his other hand rose from his lap and extended up towards me. I watched it move in the space between my body and his, my focus only leaving it to take in the face of Dr. Lecter. He wore a look of wonder, as if he himself didn't know what was going to happen next. Then, with great care, his hand caressed my face, his warm palm cradling my cheek. The pad of his thumb ran over the flesh by my eye, gentle and soothing. My eyes closed at the feeling of his touch, fearful yet relieved at the same time.
"There," I heard him breathe.
I opened my eyes again to look at the man on my couch, his own eyes bright and full of life.
"We're making progress, Ada."
The walk from the living room to my bed felt like a dream. Weightless, I don't even remember climbing into bed and shutting off my lamp. Staring at my ceiling, my thoughts were blank. With his touch alone, Hannibal had wiped my mind clean.
This chapter is pretty long, partially because of all the thought I put into it. Thank you for the kind reviews thus far. I truly appreciate them. Blessings, TCR.