@saequela said: " why is everyone so ready to think the worst is over? " @chilton
𝙸𝚁𝚁𝙸𝚃𝙰𝚃𝙸𝙾𝙽 𝚃𝚆𝙸𝚃𝙲𝙷𝙴𝚂 𝙰𝙲𝚁𝙾𝚂𝚂 𝙵𝚁𝙴𝙳𝙴𝚁𝙸𝙲𝙺’𝚂 𝚅𝙸𝚂𝙰𝙶𝙴, and he is slow to chase it away. hints of it linger still in the stiffness of his posture and the tension around his mouth, even once he has smoothed the majority of his expression into a taut kind of placidity—one that is quite obviously false. he thinks of his book, still in its incipient phase, no more now than a folder of notes and a few hasty scribbles. and yet in those scribbles lies the key to renown. the polishing of a tarnished name; he will be remembered for this, not for whatever scandal had latched itself like a parasite onto his throat. he’s certain of it.
the look he levels upon nox is one of casual disdain, cast over toward them as he straightens his coat and buttons it brusquely, smoothing his hand over the already-tidied material.
“perhaps because it is,” frederick drawls, looking down as he reaches into his pocket and withdraws his keys. their heft is nearly negligible in his palm—a sore reminder of his reduced station. he wraps his fingers around their meager splay, pulling his automobile key to lie apart from the others and rubbing his thumb over its black plastic base. “had you considered that?”
he lifts his gaze and casts another glance in nox’s direction, brows raised, though the effect of his rebuttal is somewhat lessened by the desperate curtness with which it is delivered and the hum of anger vibrating steadily beneath his words. “we have hannibal lecter exactly where we want him.” frederick lowers the hand holding his keys to his side, though the tension in his body ensures it does not swing naturally with his stride. “the chesapeake ripper is housed in a secure facility with twenty-four hour surveillance, kept under lock and key—very many of them, actually. he is no longer a danger to anyone but himself.”