Hannibal dreams of Palermo. Of the Capella Palatina, built over the deep, dark labyrinth of catacombs, with its centuries of dead. For so long this place has been the center of his mind palace, where he could retreat to find solace, peace, yet he was always alone.
Not anymore.
The chapel is candle-lit and silent, and he and Will walk side by side. As they step onto the skull engraved in the floor, Hannibal pauses, turns to Will, takes his hand. Their eyes meet and they share a smile before turning and continuing down the aisle. They climb the steps of the chancel to the altar, where rests a golden chalice. Together they raise their joined hands, and tighten their grips, until blood begins to drip from their palms, their fingers, falling drop by drop into the chalice. When it is full they release each other's hands, and Hannibal picks up the chalice and holds it out to Will, who takes it, and slowly, reverently, drinks the blood. Their blood. He offers it back to Hannibal, who does the same, drinking the blood, his eyes drifting closed in near religious ecstasy. When he opens them again the chapel is gone, the altar is gone, what remains is Will.
Hannibal shifts as he wakes, his body noting and objecting to the cold, to the hardness of the table. Yet he is careful to not disturb his lover wrapped in his arms. He opens his eyes and sees Will awake. He smiles, and touches his cheek, running his thumb gently along his cheekbone.
no subject
Not anymore.
The chapel is candle-lit and silent, and he and Will walk side by side. As they step onto the skull engraved in the floor, Hannibal pauses, turns to Will, takes his hand. Their eyes meet and they share a smile before turning and continuing down the aisle. They climb the steps of the chancel to the altar, where rests a golden chalice. Together they raise their joined hands, and tighten their grips, until blood begins to drip from their palms, their fingers, falling drop by drop into the chalice. When it is full they release each other's hands, and Hannibal picks up the chalice and holds it out to Will, who takes it, and slowly, reverently, drinks the blood. Their blood. He offers it back to Hannibal, who does the same, drinking the blood, his eyes drifting closed in near religious ecstasy. When he opens them again the chapel is gone, the altar is gone, what remains is Will.
Hannibal shifts as he wakes, his body noting and objecting to the cold, to the hardness of the table. Yet he is careful to not disturb his lover wrapped in his arms. He opens his eyes and sees Will awake. He smiles, and touches his cheek, running his thumb gently along his cheekbone.
"Hello Will."