Hannibal paused his movements, setting down the knife that
he was using to slice up the ingredients. He looked down at
the cutting board, sizing up the portions of meat, herbs,
vegetables and spices. He closed his eyes for a brief moment,
going over his pantry’s inventory until he decided there was
nothing else to be added.
He looked up at Will instead.
“Only if you want to. But you already know that I will be
running and hiding in shadows to avoid a life in a prison cell.”
He scooped the ingredients into their respective bowls. Since
there were onions and garlic on the cutting board, Hannibal’s
chef insticts were pulling him towards the sink but he just stood there.
“Even if you did not go with me, I do not suppose I could
have your promise that you would not try to find me, do I?”
“Won’t I be hiding from such.. reality-- just as yourself?
They’re on our tracks and we’re both gonna get caught.”
The empath watched with quiet apathy as Hannibal worked his magic with
the variate ingredients. He was getting used to assist the chef but he still
almost felt scared of cooking around the perfection of moves and abilities
that the cannibal possessed. So this time around he just stays & watches.
His head is a mess but he’s not allowing him to see how much harder it
is to disturb his morals than the doctor believes. He has a semblance to
keep on, YET he is aware that the mask of deceive is slowly slipping into
actual empathy. Will KNOWS Hannibal and part of him wants to slide
under the quiet dark water. The doctor is right. He’s not letting go of these
emotions the monster is erupting from inside him.
“No. You cannot have me promise such thing. --I thought you
were curious about me though. Would you leave with such ease?”
