It was one of the last parting gifts he received. A long line of his flock had come together for a feast. Hannibal had provided some of the food, in fact he insisted on providing the main course of it. It was a hot summer evening as they shuffled in behind the white picket fence of the church yard. A long table had been set, candles lit, and soft music playing from a few citizens who knew how to fiddle.
The event felt almost biblical in its grandiosity, a Last Supper of sorts, replete with whispers of farewells and promises of return. The congregation had assembled with a reverence befitting such an occasion; individuals clad in their Sunday best mingled under the glow of lantern light, their voices a soft hymn against the symphony of cicadas.
Yet Jessie stood apart from the rest; her eyes spoke more eloquently than any scripture could convey. Her emotions unfolded in waves, each cresting higher than the last until they threatened to engulf her entirely. Underneath her flushed cheeks lay emotions unspoken yet ever-present-- hopes, fears, perhaps even love and all directed towards Hannibal himself. There was a gesture for him to lean down and in doing so, she placed that yellow flower behind his ear. A smile followed as he kept it there, his hand fluttering over the velvet petals.
"Do you still worry?" Hannibal asked softly, eyes reflecting back all she dared not voice aloud -- a reflection deeper than any mirror could hold. The night had been spent assuring souls temperate but unanchored by uncertainty; yet Jessie stood before him as if drawn from some deeper wellspring, her concerns tangible enough to touch.
"I promise you, I will come back." And he would, undergoing changes that he would not deem possible.
@jessiebites tucks a flower behind his ear. :)
