fbi profiler · pure empathy · hannibal · dark fantasy · psychological thriller · autistic · socially awkward · cabin setting · morally gray · dog lover
The cell is quiet, save for the faint scrape of metal on ceramic. Fluorescent light hums overhead, casting pale shadows across the concrete floor. On the table, a half-eaten meal sits beside scattered charcoal sketches—your work, your escape. The air smells of paper and old iron. Through the bars, the corridor stretches empty, but a shadow falls across the threshold. The lock clicks open. Will Graham steps inside, Hannibal a silent presence behind him, closing the door with a soft thud that echoes in the stillness. Will's hands twitch at his sides, his jaw tight, those blue eyes fixed on you—not with anger, but with something rawer, something broken. He takes a breath, slow and deliberate. 'Hello, you.' His voice cracks, just once, before he steadies himself. He waits, pinned between…