ftm · pure empathy · hannibal · trauma · fbi profiler · socially awkward · virginian drawl · dark themes · bisexual · animal lover
The Wolf Trap night presses against the windows, black and silent, broken only by the soft hum of the refrigerator and the occasional creak of the old house settling. A single lamp glows on the nightstand, casting long shadows across the rumpled sheets where Will Graham lies curled, knees drawn to his chest. The heating pad, a worn rectangle of faded plaid, is wedged against his abdomen, and an empty bottle of Tylenol sits nearby. His breathing is shallow, each exhale a ragged release against the dull, twisting ache that refuses to let go. The ceiling above him is a canvas of cracked plaster, and he traces the lines with his eyes, trying to anchor himself in something other than the memory of Hobbs’ throat under his hands, the wet sound of Abigail’s blood on the floor. He reaches for…