✔️ Only I Can Feel You | Hannigram | Rye Ambrose

17

It was such an odd sight that Will couldn't help but stare.

    Hannibal, always in those three-piece suits and always in pristine looks, stood out in the dingey setting of his car. The worn, faded grays of the vehicle clashed with the dark brown of his suit. As Will continued to stare from under his ragged scarf, Hannibal noticed the gaze.

    "Something's on your mind," said Lecter, glancing aside at Will. He blinked, realizing just how long he'd be staring. "What is it?"

    Will faced the front again, shaking his head. "Nothing," he muttered. "Just... examining."

    Hannibal couldn't help his amused smile. "Examining me?"

    Unwarranted heat rose yet again to Will's cheeks, warming him more than the scarf around his neck. He sighed, glancing over at Hannibal with a raised brow and a crooked smile.

    "You never stop therapy with me, even out of the office, do you, Dr. Lecter?" he teased. Hannibal only smiled.

    "Hard to avoid," he said. "You're very interesting, Will."

    He glanced away at that statement, but they left it at that. Comfortable silence fell over them, and only the drone of the car and the road beneath its wheels echoed around them.

Will found himself glancing at Hannibal again, (more inconspicuous this time) taking in the sight. Rather than a broad sweep over his immaculate clothing, his eyes fell on the lines and details of Lecter's face—his well-kept, soft-looking brunette hair; the unique curves of his face and the structure of his jaw... his eyes lingered on Hannibal's, who were focused on the road—dark, shining coals swimming with knowledge. His eyes then flitted down to Hannibal's lips as he licked them, heat rising to his neck, but before he could do any further staring, they had rolled up to the BAU.

Sunset had already fell along the horizon at this time, and most of the others who were on Will's case had already gone home. They exited the car and headed inside, walking straight to the room where the two cadavers were held. Hannibal followed close by the entire way.

Will slipped through the glass doors, eyes sweeping over the two covered bodies. He peeled away the thick cover from the first body, revealing Jared Aines' body. As he slipped on some rubber gloves, Hannibal stepped closer, gazing over Will's shoulder. He stayed silent the entire time, examining his each and every action—down to the shifts in breath or the blink of an eye.

Graham leaned over the cadaver, his side lightly grazing Hannibal's, and pried Aines' mouth open. The weight in the air grew heavier and thicker, and Will slipped out his phone as a flashlight to shine down Aines' mouth. Squinting, he searched his mouth, eyes landing on his tongue. The letter 'E,' damp and once hot, stained the cadaver's tongue.

"I am her..." whispered Will, and again, the familiar scent of Death flooded his senses. "I am here." He stared for a while, the weight of it hanging on the tip of his tongue. I am Here. "Death is here..." he breathed, and that air of power and foreboding grew stronger—Death sang in his nostrils, burning and strong.

"Here... here..." he whispered to himself, mind high on the scent of Death. Where?

Hannibal's hand glided across his shoulder and held on, and when Will turned around to look at him, Death's scent had become entirely void. He blinked out of his trance.

"That's the message, then?" he asked. Will swallowed, lingering for a moment, heating up as he realized how close they were—Hannibal, looming over him from behind; face leaning down close until they were merely nose to nose.