LANA WINTERS: THE MUSCLES OF LANA'S JAW FLEX AND TENSE AS SHE STARES POINTEDLY AHEAD. THE HOTEL BAR IS CHIC, EXCLUSIVE, DIMLY LIT, AND SHE HAD EXPECTED A CERTAIN DEGREE OF DISCRETION FROM THE OTHER PATRONS. PEOPLE AT THIS HIGH REACHING RUNG OF THE LADDER, THEY ALL HAD THEIR SECRETS, THEIR LONGING FOR PEACE AND PRIVACY, BUT SHE FEELS THOSE EYES BORING INTO HER PROFILE AND HER PALMS BEGIN TO ITCH. 'IF YOU'RE GOING TO KEEP GAWKING AT ME LIKE ZOO ANIMAL, YOU COULD AT LEAST BUY ME A GODDAMN DRINK.' the meeting, hannibal had set up, and he wasn't entirely sure lana would show. she hadn't entirely given him a straight answer upon his invitation ( something hannibal has come to understand aws the norm for her ), but he did have faith that she'd come, even if only because she was a little bit curious. normally, hannibal would have a guest over to his home for dinner. lana, however, has made it very clear that she'd rather die than step foot into the house of a psychiatrist, so he decided the hotel was a good a place as any. the doctor strolls in early, waiting near the end of the bar with a class cabernet in hand. eyes scan the patrons that flock into the bar, only to stop as he watches lana enter and take her seat at one of the tables. he approaches slowly, not making himself known just yet, smirk quirking one corner of his lips when she feels his staring at her. 'is that any way to treat a friend?' quips doctor lecter, though friend was not exactly the correct term for what they are - still, it seemed a polite way to make his introduction here. 'may i sit?' @despiite.