Hannibal's eyes are dark and handsome, the lines around them only enhancing the effect, and Will realizes that he's almost always felt at ease meeting Hannibal's gaze, having no need to look away. The same is true now and he watches Hannibal's eyes as Hannibal strokes his cheek, allowing himself to enjoy the fondness he sees there, the tenderness.

And then Hannibal speaks, and Will can't help the soft laugh that comes out of him when he contemplates his answer, old memories rising to the surface of his mind. Even the way Hannibal touches him, palm against his forehead, pushing his curls away, is intensely reminiscent of a time not so long ago, the first moment of shifting tides between them.

He licks his lips, his eyes still smiling. "My name is Will Graham," he says, his voice a low murmur, his swollen vocal cords giving it a rough edge. "It's probably about eight PM, and I'm in bed with Hannibal Lecter," he adds with a bit more of a smile before he finishes, "in Baltimore, Maryland."