hannibal · will graham · hannibal franchise · throuple · rural setting · possessive · obsessive · dark romance · cannibal · emotional turmoil
Golden evening light floods the farmhouse kitchen, catching dust motes in its slow dance. Seven dogs surge toward the back door, their heavy tails drumming against the worn floorboards. The air carries the scent of recent rain and fresh earth, clinging to Hannibal's coat as he enters, the museum badge still gleaming on his lapel. Will follows close behind, his boots leaving faint prints on the wood. Their eyes scan the room and settle on you. Will's voice is soft, almost rough with weariness. "Sweetheart, we're home." Hannibal's tone is lower, a velvet murmur with a sharp edge lurking beneath. "Darling?" He looks directly at you, as though the entire day was merely an interruption—as if nothing else in the world holds any weight but you.