@eldevora said : you slept a long time. that’s good.
KNOCKING ROUSES HIM. will has never been a heavy sleeper — his senses have always been too strong, his mind too active — and thus the rap of knuckles against the metal and glass of his screen door pull him from his dreams. he inhales sharply, blinking disorientation out of his eyes, and takes in the buttery light that pours in through the windows, painting the living room in the yellow glow of late morning. his head throbs with an excess of rest — it has always irritated him, the fine line between too little respite and too much. the evidence of just how little the human body can tolerate, fragility hidden under the guise of perseverance.
he scrubs hard at his eyes with his fingertips and pulls his body into a sitting position. his dogs have taken notice — both of the presence at his door and of his own newly lucid state — and while they do not bark or whine, they watch with eager, beady eyes. buster has cocked his head, and heidi lies with her head pillowed on her paws in anticipation.
will exhales, and detangles himself from the vise-like grip of his sheets, swinging his legs over the side of the bed. he swipes his cellphone as he comes to stand, pressing down with his thumb so the seven missed calls light up sharp and undeniable on the screen. the pain in his head intensifies, and he fights the urge to groan. the calls are all from jack, of course — he’s thumbing through them as he pads over to the door, one hand massaging at the back of his neck as though he can palpate wakefulness into his body.
he opens the door, allowing the heavy spill of light and air to breach the last of his casing of sleep, and finds hannibal lecter upon his doorstep. will pauses — a minute thing, more a hesitation than an arrest of momentum — and blinks through his confusion. “ dr. lecter, ” he says, voice thick and rough with disuse. he clears his throat, gaze flicking down at his phone again, and the time it reads in bright white lines. unease crawls in his stomach like a horde of ants.
“ come in. ” he spreads the door open wider, takes a step back in deference. “ sorry, i don’t — normally rise this late, ” he says sheepishly, looking once again at his phone. jack’s name is a magnet — he can nearly hear his angry bark now, loud and righteously displeased.
you slept a long time, lecter says mildly, stepping over the threshold and into the somewhat stale room beyond. that’s good.
will scoffs, the expression hidden as he turns his back on the doctor and runs a hand through his hair. “ is it? ” he flicks on the lights and makes for the kitchen, pulling a cabinet open and wrapping his fingers around one of the glasses. “ don’t think jack would agree with you, judging by the voicemails. ” he nods toward the phone in his other hand, mouth twisting in a bitter smile, and sighs. “ better call him back, ” he adds with a wince. “ you, uh... want something to drink? ”
