hannibalrp
Hannibal grimaced at the room, holding it personally responsible for his turmoil. He would have preferred to book somewhere cleaner, but this motel was off the map. They could get a good night’s rest here before moving on again.
The manager only had one spare room to let, so Hannibal had taken it. Emily could have the bed; he’d have to lump it on the sofa. He’d slept worse before. Let’s not be picky.
“Yes it was,” he replied. “Go and see if there’s water in the mini-fridge. I’ll open the windows.”
Emily watches the man curiously, as he carefully lays down their bags and adjusts his cuffs. His expression is unreadable, at least to her. It usually is.
She bounces on the bed slightly, before standing up and obediently checking the dismal, grimy mini-fridge. Thankfully, there’s a glass jug of water inside, as well as some unopened milk cartoons well past their expiry date, and a couple of sad looking chocolate bars. Emily takes out the jug and sets it on top of the fridge, looking back over her shoulder at Dr. Lecter expectantly, through her curtain of hair.
“Are there glasses?”
