100 Words of Restlessness

by VeryDoubtfulGuest

Summary:

Post Season 3 Hannibal. A tiny glimpse of needy Will and besotted Hannibal. Exactly 100 words. An unsolicited gift for emungere.

(Apparently, I had another 100 words in me. Maybe this will be a series? As if I don't have non-fic writing I should be working on...)

(And now a third chapter, because Hannibal is even jealous of Will's dreams.)

Notes:

• For emungere.

Chapter 1

“You danced with her.”

“Yes.”

“She was a good dancer.”

“Very.”

Will stared into the eyes of his own reflection, ignoring the view beyond the glass. Outside the window, the Caribbean rolled on indifferently.

“I’m not…” Petty discontent. It made his skin feel too tight, made his hand tighten around the fragile bowl of the wine glass.

Inevitably, it cracked. Inevitably, there was blood. Inevitably, Hannibal was there, swift and silent, bent over the wound, ascertaining it was shallow and small.

He lifted Will’s hand to his lips, sipping the hot sting. “No, you are not her. You are mine.”