I used not to like his smile, at first.

No It wasnt that I didnt like it, it was

just that I didnt care about how the corners of his eyes would crinkle just a
little bit when the subtle curve that his mouth made reached his eyes, giving
away the sincerity of the act. His razor-sharp cheekbones would rise just a
little bit, and, again, his eyes would squint just slightly, with a glint of
something that could be love lightened the maroon orbs. Oh, and he would
pout. Every time. Just a teeny tiny bit, and he always would ask why am I
looking at him so dumbfounded.
How could I possibly describe it to him? How it, at first, makes my whole
body tingle, from my toes to my wayward curls that he (says that) likes so
much? And then, my heart beats just a little bit faster, in the good way, and
a soft warmth spreads from my chest, making me flush ever-so-slightly. Most
of the times I have to retrieve the placebo glasses from my pocket because I
cant bear look at him in the eyes, not when I feel my heart beating so fast
because in his behalf.
I used not to care up to the point I did. The first time it happened
consciously was on his dining room, in the most casual of ways; I was
helping him set the table for a small dinner with Jack and my hand slipped
(as it often happened then) while placing the cutlery on the table. If not for
him, I would have cut myself badly with the sharp knife; but he caught it
effortlessly, his reflexes as sharp as ever, holding my hand as well as he
shook his head good-heartedly, his body that little bit too close to mine.
My good Will, you have to be more careful. You can let go now. He chided
and I looked up to him, contrite, but I saw it: that subtle smile that could
induce a rock to sin, warm and accepting. It took me by surprise. I didnt
think that such a stern man could act in such a light manner, so Forgiving,
in a way, if that makes any sense at all. I hadnt done anything wrong, thats
true, but I felt like, if I had, it would have been okay anyway.
That event drew me closer to him like a moth to the fire.
You see, after that first interaction, I just knew I needed to pay more
attention to it. With so much darkness occurring in my life, Hannibal in itself
was an anchor and those little acts of kindness that led to his smiling
brought light into life, and I let it wash over me.
With all the sleepwalking, the seizures and the fever, it wasnt safe for me to
be alone at Wolf Trap; it wasnt safe even for the dogs.
Let me take care of you, Will. He had said in one of our meetings, a hand
gently but firmly placed on my forehead to feel my temperature. Be a good
boy, yes? You are in no condition to look after yourself at the moment; let
me assist you. That is what friends do, after all, is it not? Even through my
feverish haze, I could see the tiny little crinkles at the corn of his eyes. And
after all, friends really do care for each other But I knew that what
disarmed me was his smile, and all the care; all the love that poured from
his actions.

Just this once. I mumbled, letting myself into his strong arms, his expert
hands combing through my wild curls and rubbing circles on my back as I
laid my head on his chest, nuzzling on the soft wool of his red sweater,
letting go from expectations, burdens and all the pain. Just This once.
Hannibal propped his chin onto my head, and I could just feel his smile once
again as the praise washed over me like a balm to my wounded mind. His
whispers were so sure. How could one argue with so much Adoration?
Thats my good boy. I will take good care of you, William If you just let
me, I will take all your pain away. Trust me.
And he did. That night when he tucked me in and many other nights. With it,
though, he took much more: my dignity, my freedom and my trust. But in a
sad attempt of retaliation, I saw in his face so much disappointment, so
much sadness that I wish I hadnt tried so hard to pay him back for what he
had done to me. What did it matter now that he had me imprisoned,
accused of crimes that he did commit? The night he left me there to die
along with Jack, Abigail and Alana I discovered that there was no turning
back: if I miraculously survived, I would find him, and never disappoint him
ever again. I could bear dying like this, I did not deserve that he made it so
beautiful. I needed his forgiveness. I need to see his smile once more.
That brings us to where we are now. Four years passed and a lot happened,
including his imprisonment; we hurt each other again and again in the
meantime, but now, as we fight for our lives, nothing matters. Once, I
thought killing was ugly, but now, under the moonlight, hurt and still aching
in ways that have nothing to do with my injuries, I can finally see what he
tried to show me all along.
Our movements, even after all those years, are still synchronized because
our minds never had fully disconnected. He knows me too well, and I know
him. We can predict each others moves, and poor Francis has no chance
standing against us. My blade slashes through the Red Dragons flesh
gratefully; how dared he getting in the way of our reunion? We both knew he
would be there, of course, but still, that didnt give him the right of
interrupting us, nor the right of hurting Hannibal. I wanted to stop just to be
able to admire his graceful movements, even when wounded. Our moves
were choreographed by the despair of losing one another, and even in its
darkness, that was a beautiful thing.
As we delivered the final blows and Francis fell to the ground, my gaze
searched for his, and I could see the awe on his face. I stretched my hand,
breathing laboriously, and he pulled me into his arms as he had done so
many times before, but never in such a sweet manner. I knew that it was the
only thing that he wanted from me all along; he didnt have to say it. Why
had I resisted so strongly? I couldnt I just have given in, and be with him all
along, instead of bringing so much pain into our lives?

Its beautiful. I whispered brokenly. Behind all the awe, all the incredulity
in his eyes I can see it forming. The slight duck of his bloodied lips, his
raised cheekbones and the glint on his eyes as he smiles at me. I forgave
him long ago, but now, now at least I knew for sure.
I was forgiven.