☣ silence

Lamb Lion Hunter Hunted Agent Clarice Starling [Independent]

[godandhiscreation-blog]

"In case you're wondering; no, I can't bring myself to care about that anymore." [hello. Thank you for the follow and have a very random bit of love]

“Is that so?” He smirked, the curling of his lips carefully hidden behind the glass in a perhaps futile attempt to appear impassive. If she deluded herself into thinking he believed that, she was, after all, not the woman that he took her to be; no need in hiding then. No need, but there was something inexplicably appealing in charades—- especially if they could be seen through with such ease. “I’m glad to hear it. You will be much better off for it, no doubt.”

[xicarus]

     The tilt of her head ever so slightly to the left betrayed her thoughts entirely; a bold, but not a foolish move on her part. She’d never been one to give up, even on the most menial of things and such movement qualified as the exact opposite. Her heart was, after all, as much her strength as it was her weakness. “Yes. Back to square one where I have no outside knowledge of any kind. Just what they’ve always wanted.” Her words taunted openly, though she knew not how to fear their reception; what worried her the most was how little he scared her.

[xicarus]

secret romance starters

"No one's going to find out. "

"We can't do this - the boss will see! "

"I believe in keeping relationships between co-workers professional but you make it so god damn hard. "

"Do you know what it means if we get caught?"

"You were cheating on me?"

"They can't find out I've been having an affair with you."

"I'm not your dirty little secret."

"Nobody sees, nobody knows. We are a secret, can't be exposed."

"I want to tell the world you're mine."

"They'll kill us if they find out."

"You know, I'm sure there's a janitors closet around here somewhere."

"My parent's don't know."

"They don't know about us."

"I don't care what people say when we're together."

"I know I'm not your only, but at least I'm one."

"It's so hard to concentrate when you're over there looking so sexy."

"I can't keep doing this. I need someone who isn't afraid to hold my hand in public."

"All I really want is to know if the love is worth the sacrifice."

"I've been cheating on you."

"One day everyone will know. But today isn't that day."

"I know your secret."

"Have fun in jail once the court finds out about her/his age."

"I'm your teacher/student. This will never work out."

"I see you there and I just want to go up and kiss you but I know I can't and that makes me sad."

"What's so bad if they know?"

[xicarus]

Hannibal joined her in drinking his coffee. “What immediately comes to mind is a young woman obsessed with keeping score. Do you imagine that I have a tally sheet somewhere, recording every meal I make for you, every stitch I’ve given you? That I would hold you to account for allowing me to help you eat?”

He paused to meet her eyes. He felt sad for her in this moment. Sad for the young girl who grew up with so little, and with people always taking, but calling it giving.

He even had a pang of regret that their relationship began with quid pro quo. He, too, had given to her, only to take from her – given her cheap and easy things, only so that he could take what was much more precious.

“Some things in life can be free, Clarice, and I am not like most people.”

    Clarice counted each sip with calculated accuracy, the slow burning liquid coating her throat with a silky warmth. She knew better than to expect her words to give her much headway, instead she stayed silent for what the remainder of her cup. It wasn’t until she placed it down on the table, careful not to clatter the ceramic against hard wood, that she redirected her gaze. “What is it that you’d like me to say?” she asked, picking up the fork with her left hand, undeniably determined to gain control of her own hand.     “Why?” she so simply asked, managing to stab several items of food, piling them up. Evenly placed, she slipped them into her mouth, locking eyes with him again as she pulled the fork back from her lips. “You are a determined man, nothing else can be so easily said. You have me here, for whatever it is you have planned, you do not have to aid me anymore than you already have. I can’t come to rely on you.”

[xicarus]

...

[xicarus]

(I will return in 10-15 days when my computer is fixed. I apologize for the long absence and untimely demise of my technology.)

[xicarus]

Hannibal gave a  sly smirk as he picked up his coffee. He knew what she was asking. “There are so many pigs in the world, Clarice. With so many options, I often find it hard to choose my own bacon.”

He began to eat along with her, not wanting to force upon her an audience as she worked hard to feed herself. “Asking for help is not childish, Clarice. It is a sign of strength. As is your determination to do it on your own.”

"Are you interested to know what else I see?"

    Focused more on the food items that continuously managed to fall from her fork, Clarice registered his bacon remark, filing it away within her mind should it prove useful at any point in the future. She was neither curious nor disinterested in the subject, it was simply rude table conversation as she attempted to see through his eyes. "At some point in my life, Doctor, I realized that most people don't help willingly. Nothing is ever free and I would very much like to avoid owing you any more than I already do."       Clarice's attempt to push his question out of her mind was met with resistance. Unlike so many others, his thoughts had always caught her interest, shown her another side to the world that she'd ignored before. His perceptive glance had broken her apart before and she grew ever stronger for it; he already held her within arms length, what more could he do to trap her here? "What do you see?" she asked, looking up from her eggs and directing her attention to the more feasible task of drinking coffee.

[goodfriendhannibal-blog]

□

Clarice was reading on the couch while Hannibal cleaned up after another fine meal. He was feeling slightly lightheaded from a bit too much wine. He tended to over indulge around Clarice, as she was the only person he felt he could be remotely disadvantaged around.

When he finished he dried his hands, and walked into the living room. As he rounded the corner of the couch, his foot met Clarice’s forgotten bag and he began to fall forward, inexorably destined to land on top of her. At the last moment, he braced himself with his strong arms and managed to catch himself before he crushed her.

She looked up at him in surprise, dropping her book. Their faces were inches from each other.

With a slightly drunken chuckle he said, “Well, good evening, Clarice.”

[xicarus]

Hannibal laughed from his belly. “You deserve an Oscar and a Golden Globe for your performance. Possibly even a Tony.” 

He closed his eyes as Clarice mussed his hair. It felt amazingly good. He loved her hands in his hair, even though he must look ridiculous by now.

"It is an exquisite bag. Its only awfulness is that it tripped me, though that might not have been so awful after all, considering where I landed." He placed another kiss on her neck, lingering only a moment there.

"You make a good point, my love. I am likely to be atrocious at drinking games. Perhaps you will let me ply you with wine instead.  Terrò alla vostra promessa.”

With that, he stood and offered her his hand.

    Clarice feigned hurt, "Only possibly? And here I thought I was doing so well." Once done altering his hair, she surveyed it, noting alterations that could be made to the puffed design; she filed them away for later, as she had promised. "Remind me again why you wear all that gel in your hair." So professional, even in their private life; it added another layer of intimacy to their true private moments. "You speak as if you'll have to force the wine down my throat." she cleared as she took his hand, rising from the couch in a graceful manner - one his condition wouldn't have allowed him to mimic.     She stood in front of him for a moment, hand still within his; with her other hand, arm long since healed, she pulled him down by his tie - gently, of course - and placed a tender kiss to his lips. "I love you." she said as she released him, removing her hand from his to work his tie off, slipping it from it's home around his neck. Don't need that. "Did we finish the bottle from dinner?"

[goodfriendhannibal-blog]

□

Clarice was reading on the couch while Hannibal cleaned up after another fine meal. He was feeling slightly lightheaded from a bit too much wine. He tended to over indulge around Clarice, as she was the only person he felt he could be remotely disadvantaged around.

When he finished he dried his hands, and walked into the living room. As he rounded the corner of the couch, his foot met Clarice’s forgotten bag and he began to fall forward, inexorably destined to land on top of her. At the last moment, he braced himself with his strong arms and managed to catch himself before he crushed her.

She looked up at him in surprise, dropping her book. Their faces were inches from each other.

With a slightly drunken chuckle he said, “Well, good evening, Clarice.”

[xicarus]

Hannibal laughed, and it was an open honest thing. “Kissing me is a chore, is it? Well, you are a dutiful lover then.”

Nuzzling her neck he said, “Catching you up can be arranged, you know. Our wine cellar is always well stocked. We could even play one of your silly college drinking games. But then,” he added, planting a kiss on the tip of her nose, “I’d have to get up from this very promising position and risk tripping over that awful bag again.”

    "It's all part of the charade, darling. I like to think of myself as an actress." Clarice laughed, moving both hands from his cheeks into his hair, brushing it off in different directions to add to the bodied appeal. "You want to play a drinking game? For me to catch up, you would have to win; do you think you can do that?" she tempted, teeth showing through her lips as they parted. "Hannibal, you picked that bag out, I'm only making use of it as best I know how." Clarice staightened her posture, sitting up, which brought their faces even closer together. "What if I promise the night will end like this - contigo encima de mí?"

[goodfriendhannibal-blog]

□

Clarice was reading on the couch while Hannibal cleaned up after another fine meal. He was feeling slightly lightheaded from a bit too much wine. He tended to over indulge around Clarice, as she was the only person he felt he could be remotely disadvantaged around.

When he finished he dried his hands, and walked into the living room. As he rounded the corner of the couch, his foot met Clarice’s forgotten bag and he began to fall forward, inexorably destined to land on top of her. At the last moment, he braced himself with his strong arms and managed to catch himself before he crushed her.

She looked up at him in surprise, dropping her book. Their faces were inches from each other.

With a slightly drunken chuckle he said, “Well, good evening, Clarice.”

[xicarus]

Hannibal felt nice and loose. Relaxed in body and mind. Perhaps even a bit silly, if that was possible for the doctor. Clarice brought out so many unimaginable sides of him.

He shook his head to loosen his hair further. “I never worry about my image with you, Clarice. You’ve seen me at my best and at my worst. And you still love me.” He leaned forward and gave her a deep kiss.

"How did I get so lucky to win you?" he said.

    With her hands landing upon his cheeks, she returned the kiss, eyes slipping closed as they had the first time; funny how those little things never seemed to change. When she opened them, the took in the sight before her; no mask to peer through - pure. "Right place at the right time." she began, "More like wrong place at the right time." Either way, winning would imply competition; the FBI had cast her out, there was nothing but morals left to compete with. "Or maybe I just stick around for the cooking and kissing you is nothing but a chore." she added with a grin, allowing her own restraints to slip away. "I almost want to drink more to catch up with you there; looks like a good place to be. I mean, the view from here isn't terrible."

[xicarus]

(goodfriendhannibal) ☽

send me ☽ for my muse to drunkenly confess feelings to yours

          There is so much about my life that I want to tell you.

     Clarice’s arm took to healing nicely, though the sling impaired her more than she’d care to admit; so much so that she wondered what life would be without it. After all, two months with limited movement felt like a lifetime - and there was at least one more to go. Despite this set back, Hannibal had taken to her dancing lessons with an enthusiasm she hardly suspected available within his mind; a thankless chore, she often thought, as they attempted grace by the firelight. She was better than she thought; much better.

     ”Have you ever been in love?” she asked one evening after a particularly fetching bottle of Merlot, immobilized arm plastered between them as he attempted some foreign Waltz to which she’d already misplaced the name; he would remind her later. “Wait, don’t answer that. I don’t think I want to know. It’s much more alluring to think of you as the mysterious man who charms whomever he pleases. The idea that any one person would be enough to satisfy your curious mind would be disappointing. It’d be the ending to an obvious cliche film.”

          Unless that one person was me. How very unrealistic.

     ”I was in love once.” she continued, following his lead as they turned slowly, careful not to stumble though her body surged ahead of her mind, weighed down by the alcohol. “At least, I thought I was. We were young and weren’t together very long; he died in a car accident my freshman year of college. I was devastated, for a while, but that healed over. I missed him, but even that faded away. It’s cruel, really. After that, I didn’t much see the point in frustrating myself further. My career was my life - now that’s gone too. All I have left is you.”

          But all of this is an illusion; it won’t last. I don’t get to keep this life.

[goodfriendhannibal-blog]

□

Clarice was reading on the couch while Hannibal cleaned up after another fine meal. He was feeling slightly lightheaded from a bit too much wine. He tended to over indulge around Clarice, as she was the only person he felt he could be remotely disadvantaged around.

When he finished he dried his hands, and walked into the living room. As he rounded the corner of the couch, his foot met Clarice’s forgotten bag and he began to fall forward, inexorably destined to land on top of her. At the last moment, he braced himself with his strong arms and managed to catch himself before he crushed her.

She looked up at him in surprise, dropping her book. Their faces were inches from each other.

With a slightly drunken chuckle he said, “Well, good evening, Clarice.”

[xicarus]

     It was an unexpected thing, to be startled out from one's novel by one of the most composed people ever to have eluded the FBI, caught in such an ungraceful position. Clarice had taken it upon herself to observe, silencing herself within the final moments of their dinner while he nursed yet another glass of wine. How many had that been now? Still, the thought of loosening his tongue even slightly enthralled her imagination; what secrets remained to be uncovered by her own techniques.        "Evening." she said smoothly, voice refusing to expressed the same startled nature she'd felt her eyes had always deceived. "You're graceful even when you're falling, that's impressive. Still, I've never seen you in a state of such ill composure, Doctor. This does not bode well for your image." To fit his lightened appearance, Clarice ran a hand through his hair, pulling it out of its jelled form to fall more loosely over his forehead. "There, much more fitting."

[xicarus]

accidental affection

send me ✗ for my muse to fall on yours and land on top of them

send me □ for your muse to fall on mine and land on top of them

send me ♕ for your muse to get dared to kiss me

send me ♢ for my muse to get dared to kiss yours

send me ♫ for your muse to catch mine singing in the shower

send me ♩ for my muse to catch yours singing in the shower

send me ♡ for your muse to drunkenly confess feelings to mine

send me ☽ for my muse to drunkenly confess feelings to yours

send me △ for my muse to get trapped in a small closet with yours

send me ❅ for my muse to cuddle up next to yours while asleep on the couch

send me ❥ for your muse to cuddle up next to mine while asleep on the couch

[goodfriendhannibal-blog]

"I just want to cuddle." - Clarice translation: "Just come over here, please. I'm tired of feeling like I need to be angry with you."

Hannibal regarded her carefully. He too was tired of feeling her frustration on a low simmer, threatening to boil over at any moment. It made him sad, to have anything come between them. It was time for mending.

He stood, walked over to where she sat on the couch and picked her up before sitting down himself and placing her in his lap. He wrapped one arm around her, and put his other hand on the nape of her neck, gently lacing his fingers in her hair. He pressed his forehead to hers, and whispered, “Clarice, my love, I am sorry.”

[xicarus]

Hannibal felt himself stiffening, and knew she felt it, too, knew his firmness was stimulating her, and still he kept up their patient rhythm. "Despacio por mi amor. Cualquier cosa por mi amor."

He brought his other hand under her blouse, and was soon lifting it over her head. He placed a hand on her back, the other on her heart. “I love that your desire for me is still a flame that burns, Clarice. As is mine for you,” he said, continuing to grind their hips together.

He brought a hand up to caress her face, thumb running over her lips. "Chiamami per nome, Clarice. Mi piace come gocciola dalle tue labbra come il miele."

    "Cualquier cosa?" she asked with a smirk she’d long since adopted from his book of mannerisms. "Yo pueda sostener a eso más adelante." Her hands disconnected from his body, allowing him to slip her own shirt off as she had disposed of his. With his hands now burning holes in her skin, her hips took up their own rhythm; slow circles as she pressed down against him, soaking up the sensation. "That fire, my love, is one you would struggle to extinguish. Though, if this is one of the rewards, perhaps we should fight more often."       The pink muscle darted out between pearl-white teeth to meet the pad of his thumb, lightly brushing it with saliva. It was a rare occurrence that Clarice choose to use his name; it was intimate to her, the way it tasted, the way it felt. It wasn't like she lost desire to use it, quite the opposite; she feared it would lose its potency if she did. “No me gustaría que a destrozarlo.” she confessed, albeit wishing it came easier to her.

[xicarus]

Hannibal noticed her discomfort and was not surprised she did not ask for help. He had known she would be in pain, of course, but had wondered if it would be enough to keep her from being able to care for herself. Part of him was pleased that she would need more of his care, though he did not enjoy seeing her in pain.

He took her plate and began cutting the bacon and taking apart the prawn for her. As he worked, he spoke. “Most people see a petite young woman, from a poor background, and care to see nothing else. They assume you are weak, because you are a woman and because you are beautiful and small. They assume you are not smart, because you grew up poor.” He paused to refresh her coffee. 

"I see everything. I see the young girl that survived the death of her father, that worked the hotel with her mother, that ran away from the ranch to save a young lamb. The girl that survived the Lutheran orphanage and excelled in school all the way through the University of Virginia and the FBI’s training. And I see more than that."

When he finished with her plate, he looked up at her. “I am sorry. It was rude of me not to think that using your arm would be difficult for you this morning. Will you allow me to assist you with your breakfast?” He added with a smirk, “And this is Verger bacon. Just not from the pig I would have chosen for myself.”

    Clarice felt defeated at his words, her own weakness more visible than ever; she felt just as she had the day they met - belittled and useless. Despite this, these emotions remained buried, masked by her hatred for the man before her - hatred of the way he understood her. She hated him for his knowledge of her past, knowledge she'd given up willingly, and for the truth he spoke. She wanted to question him, ask what it was that he saw beyond her past and present, but her ability to form such words had long since failed. Fire overtook her as she simply watched his hands work the silver along such delicate surfaces; how many bodies had those hands dismembered?     "You said it yourself, Doctor; I am not a child. What would I be if I admitted to needing that assistance? I can manage, thank you." If she allowed him to aid her now and grew used to the concept, where would she be in her life without him? She knew better than to become dependent on anyone; relationships were not set in stone and people never stuck around too long. Taking up her fork, she stabbed three clumps of egg, delicately though with purpose. It would take some getting used it, but she didn't find the task overly difficult. "Do you often select your own bacon, Doctor?"

[goodfriendhannibal-blog]

"I just want to cuddle." - Clarice translation: "Just come over here, please. I'm tired of feeling like I need to be angry with you."

Hannibal regarded her carefully. He too was tired of feeling her frustration on a low simmer, threatening to boil over at any moment. It made him sad, to have anything come between them. It was time for mending.

He stood, walked over to where she sat on the couch and picked her up before sitting down himself and placing her in his lap. He wrapped one arm around her, and put his other hand on the nape of her neck, gently lacing his fingers in her hair. He pressed his forehead to hers, and whispered, “Clarice, my love, I am sorry.”

[xicarus]

”¿Despaaaaacio?" he purred as he slowly, but firmly, rolled their hips together again. "¿Quieres que me vaya despacio, Clarice?" His voice was a growl this time, as he kept up the tortuously slow pace of their hips. Moving all the while, he smirked. “I went slowly all those months, months that you want to punish me for, but now you want me to go slowly again?”

He knew how much she wanted him, but anticipation was the best appetizer and he intended on presenting this dish to a starving Clarice. Continuing to roll with her, he snaked a hand under the back of her blouse, feeling the heat of her back.

”Non abbiamo bisogno di bugie tra noi, Clarice. Non avrei nulla tra noi.”

     "Me gusta cuando vas despacio." she cooed in return, hands moving from behind his head to rest on his chest, giving her an anchorage point. She didn't mind him doing all the work, grinding their hips together; she was more than willing to relinquish control - for now. "Don't pretend you don't like the idea; I know you too well to know when you're lying." Perhaps she only wished that was true.      Clarice leaned into the touches he splayed across her back, slipping her own hands down his sides. "Off." she instructed, tugging the red sweater up and over his head. "Un día, usted puede conseguir su deseo, mi amor."

[kissthefuture]

Starling could understand Mason wanting to kill Hannibal Lecter. If he had done it himself or had hired it done, she could have stood it; Mason had a grievance. But she could not abide the thought of Dr Lecter tortured to death; she shied from it as she had from the slaughter of the lambs and the horses so long ago.

You are a warrior, Clarice.

Almost as ugly as the act itself was the fact that Mason would do this with the tacit agreement of men sworn to uphold the law. It is the way of the world.

With this thought, she made a simple decision: The world will not be this way within the reach of my arm.

[xicarus]

homicidx

     "What an unfortunate circumstance, Doctor."