A/N: I only own the idea
Fingers continued to run over her cheek. They skirted her jaw line. Was he checking for fractures? Lips started to part in relaxation. Why was he pinching them shut? What was this darkness in his eyes?
"Keep them closed my dear or you will discover another taste of mine." She shuddered as his fingers wiped the blood from her lips. How could those hands be so gentle and strong at the same time? Her breathing had returned to normal. His hands fell away along with his eyes.
"Are you all right?" So softly it was no more then a whisper.
When she opened her mouth she had meant for words to come out, not a laugh. It caught hold of her then and she gasped through between her giggles.
"I think he wanted to stick himself inside me. I sure showed him. Haha!" Tears mingled with her giggles that strangely sounded like sobs.
Iron fingers gripped her shoulders and shook her once, twice. Her teeth clicked from the jolt of it. Her sounds stopped. In his mind they played on like a broken record.
"Nothing here is funny," his words were a low growl. Anger was safe for him. Counting to 10 she blew out a breath and met his eyes. Of course he looked down.
"Don't worry Doctor. If he had his way with me my face wouldn't be the only part on my body covered in blood."
Could you give yourself whip lash if you looked up to quickly? The doctor was certainly eager to find out, she thought as his head snapped up. Crossing her arms she went on ignoring his surprise. He would most likely bite back for it later with some kind of scathing remark.
"Is this where you tell me my virginity explains my childish behaviour to dance? Maybe you tie it to my daddy somehow? Are you going to tell me now how foolish I am?" Bracing herself for his verbal jabs she glared at him.
"I will tell you you're a fool yes," his hands came up to his face then blocking her view. "You're a fool for crying your heart out on that deck alone. You're a fool for not paying attention to your surroundings. You're a fool for thinking you could stop me from ending that man's life after what he tried to do." He was shaking now. Trembles so pronounced his hands hardly hid his face any more. "Your a fool for pressing and pressing about my little sister."
Had she gasped or had he. Colour drained from his face and he moved away from her as if she were the threat. Little sister? Mischa was his sister? What had happened to her to hurt him so. Part of her didn't want to know.
Slowly she approached him. It looked as though both of them had shared secrets in this storm. "Will you look at me?" Her words sounded like a plea, not like the comfort she had intended them to be. His eyes did not move from where they stared blankly.
Sticky with another man's blood she sat beside him. "Hannibal, I'm ok. I messed up, again and I'm sorry. I didn't want you to kill him because now we can't stay here. It doesn't matter. The location isn't nearly as important as the company." His head shook slowly. Did he no longer want her company? Had he really meant for her to leave? Shame made her skin tingle.
"I should not have let you go. I should have attempted to talk to you instead of listening to you fall apart. I believe, my dear, your sobs have added yet another soundtrack to accompany my sisters cries in my darkest dreams."
That cut her deeply. No more pain from her, he didn't need any more. Shudders that were not her own ran through her as she wrapped her arms around him. His face pressed in to her hair where she could not find his eyes.
"What if he had, as you say, had his way with you? What if you retreated into yourself so deeply away from me that I couldn't bring you back? I can't..."
She squeezed him hard. Keeping her words soft she spoke her reply. "Do you mean how you retreat from me?" No answer was needed from him. The hitch in his breath was enough. Reaching for his face with her hand she squeaked in horror.
When he looked at her hand he understood the sound. Under her nails were bits of the idiot's eyes. Pulling her up gently by the wrist, he led her to a sink.
It was something like detached fascination as she watched what was left of the man's flesh slip down the drain. It was only when her hands were clean and dry that what had happened caught up with her. Never one to miss a beat his hands held back her hair while she vomited up her water and orange juice from that morning. It burnt.
When she had finished she stared despondently at herself in the mirror. Reflected beside her she watched as his mask of calm once again found its place. Sighing she stepped away from the glass.
When he spoke it was unexpected and hard. "Perhaps some time apart would do us some good hmm?"
The force of her against him made him stagger slightly. "No! Don't you dare do that now Hannibal Lecter! You will have to knock me out if you plan on leaving without me beside you!"
For the briefest of moments she thought he would as his hand lifted to her face. Instead though he only cupped her cheek. Had she felt a tremor in his fingers. Reaching out she allowed herself to finally touch his face. Instead of harden; his eyes softened and drank her in.
Was it the action of fingertips so gently pressed to skin that served as a tether to ground their turbulent spirits? As they looked in to each other for the first time with nothing between them they stood in the calm of the storm their revolutions had created.