Sigh, I'm so in love... and this story's going at the speed of a running train...
THAT'S WHY I think it's okay that this chapter is so short. Enjoy!
She took in the room slowly, her eyes overwhelmed. Books were the most common object in the faultless study of Dr. Hannibal Lecter, they lined the walls in subjects varying from his immediate field to marine life. His passion for culture was evident in the array of frames housing she could make out Japanese ink drawings, quality prints of works of the old Renaissance masters, an African necklace made of ostrich shells and a couple of peaceful nature vistas.
Subtle olive green walls and pillars reaching into two landings formed his large study; broadly striped red and white statement curtains focused the room and between them stood a healthy potted ficus tree. A range of modern and vintage collection furniture pieces bought the natural shades of wood and comfort into his design.
Two sleek black leather armchairs with twin glass tables faced each other across a measured distance and behind them stood the matching chaise lounge she currently sat on, her legs leaning to the left in a chaste manner.
The doctor was seated at his sophisticated urban desk, his features illuminated by the light of a gold plated steel lamp bent over a single paper and three pencils. The fourth was still in his deft hands, the scalpel tracing over the lead tip in meticulous strokes, wooden peels falling into the small wastebasket at his feet.
He did not look at her, but she had a feeling he knew exactly what she was looking at ... Perharps even thinking...
Beethoven's moonlight sonata thickened the calm mood as the notes were carried through the air in sober pitches.
She swallowed when he looked back up to her, his severe eyes level with hers as he lowered his arm steadily to the paper. Continuing the sketch he had worked on for only five minutes so far.
They had had a magnificent dinner with a French name she didn't quite catch because she had lost the letters, sooner listening to his smooth voice pronouncing them flawlessly. The dessert was as amazing and she felt stuffed but very happy, or perhaps that was the wine telling tales...
She saw his jaw tightening a fragment before he rose unexpectedly, walking around his desk with the precise elegance she was getting used to. He approached her and lowered himself to his knee in front of her, his hands lifting to her neck where he proceeded unwrapping the slim white scarf she wore over a matching loose chiffon summer dress. Her stomach knotted.
His face was still devoid of any emotion as he folded and tossed the silky material over the chaise and brushed her hair lightly from her eyes. Hannibal sat back and ran his gaze over her face, checking for more faults and apparently not finding any more because he straightened and strode back to his ribbed back leather chair, picking up his pencil and raising his eyes to observe her again, soft lines lifting on his forehead with his light brows.
She was trying to make out the expression on the face of a marble bust standing behind Hannibal's shoulder on a bookcase when he suddenly spoke through Paganini's concerto no. 2.
"Adelaide, look at me." Their eyes met and she caught a trace of irritation from them. Heat crept up the sides of her neck and climbing into her face, tinting the ivory apples of her cheeks with a blush.
"Just lose your eyes, listen to the music." He said in a professional tone, the skin at the corners of his eyes creasing ever so slightly.
She flashed a smile and straightened her back like a puppet on strings, her eyes shut and the melody slowly kindling her interest.
The gentle touch of a hand around her knee woke Adelaide from her trance and her eyes fluttered open, Hannibal sat next to her on the seat, his lips carved into a smile making it harder to see the small scar running down underneath his right eye.
"I'm done." He said in his refined accent.
Do you think I got his character right? Review, and tell me what you think, please!