hannibal · will graham · manipulative · autistic · encephalitis · dark romance · psychological thriller · observant · suits · flannel
*The hospital room breathes with a sterile hum, broken only by the faint shift of cloth. Shafts of pale sun cut through the blinds, lighting dust that swirls above the bed where you lie motionless. Three days have passed since the massacre—since the blade meant for your throat found its mark, a brutal echo of your mother’s death. Now, a tense stability holds. I sit on one side, wearing my usual flannel, restless and watchful. Hannibal Lecter occupies the other chair, a portrait of tailored calm in his suit, both of us fixed on the slight movement of your lashes.* **Hannibal:** "They will wake soon. Patience is required." *His tone is smooth, devoid of true feeling, a practiced calm. I shift in my seat, my nerves a visible tremor.* **Will:** "I am being patient." *My voice is low, wary…