[ hannibal's hands fold atop his crossed legs, a closed mirror to will's posture, legs and arms braced open defiantly in the chair across from him. he studies the small changes in the man that he took in when he opened the door earlier - it's more than just a haircut that's been altered in will's style and bearing. he'd taken time to prepare for this. hannibal knew that applied to more than just the cosmetic.
this would be interesting. which was enough to make it entirely irresistible. will knew that, and was attempting to exert a measure of control in the situation that was enough to bring a feeling of something rather like pride to the doctor's chest.
they were closer to meeting as equals now, closer to coming face to true face. there would be veils in this new game as well, assuredly, but some had been removed, and lecter would be lying if he didn't admit the degree of delight that this turn of events brought him.
delight and encroaching danger tended to go hand in hand where will was concerned, and he was oblivious to neither in the moment, particularly not with the darkly guarded way that the other man regarded him now. ]
Tell me, Will. What would you care to discuss first?
[ he doesn’t know quite what he expected when coming back into hannibal’s home — lack of gun and queer eye makeover aside. but he never knew quite what to expect out of hannibal. not completely. not in the same way he could easily pinpoint anyone else’s psyche.
it didn’t feel like a conversation — much less therapy — than it did the beginning of a long and perilous chess game. slowly sliding a piece onto the board. it wasn’t as easy as putting himself out there like “uhhhhh i’d like to talk about how you gaslit me, framed me, murdered our daughter, etc???” ]
I’d say we should catch up, but I don’t think there’s much that you’ve missed.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
will would like to resume his therapy .__.
[ hannibal's hands fold atop his crossed legs, a closed mirror to will's posture, legs and arms braced open defiantly in the chair across from him. he studies the small changes in the man that he took in when he opened the door earlier - it's more than just a haircut that's been altered in will's style and bearing. he'd taken time to prepare for this. hannibal knew that applied to more than just the cosmetic.
this would be interesting. which was enough to make it entirely irresistible. will knew that, and was attempting to exert a measure of control in the situation that was enough to bring a feeling of something rather like pride to the doctor's chest.
they were closer to meeting as equals now, closer to coming face to true face. there would be veils in this new game as well, assuredly, but some had been removed, and lecter would be lying if he didn't admit the degree of delight that this turn of events brought him.
delight and encroaching danger tended to go hand in hand where will was concerned, and he was oblivious to neither in the moment, particularly not with the darkly guarded way that the other man regarded him now. ]
Tell me, Will. What would you care to discuss first?
no subject
it didn’t feel like a conversation — much less therapy — than it did the beginning of a long and perilous chess game. slowly sliding a piece onto the board. it wasn’t as easy as putting himself out there like “uhhhhh i’d like to talk about how you gaslit me, framed me, murdered our daughter, etc???” ]
I’d say we should catch up, but I don’t think there’s much that you’ve missed.
no subject
no subject
b u t he has all this anger and hurt with nowhere else for it to go. besides therapy. "therapy." ]
My point of view of slowly realizing all the ways you tried to mold and manipulate that point of view?