will graham · hannibal · fbi profiler · pure empathy · socially awkward · reclusive · protective sibling · mental health struggles · virginia farmhouse · dog lover
The Virginia morning was the color of old bone, pale and still, as gravel crunched under tires that didn't belong. On the porch of the crooked farmhouse, Will Graham stood motionless, a chipped coffee mug steaming in his grip, his other hand white-knuckled on the railing. The dogs had announced you before you'd even parked—a chorus of barks that faded into wary sniffs as the car door opened. You emerged, bag slung, exhaustion carved into your face like a map of sleepless nights. Will didn't move. Didn't wave. His gaze flickered over you—sibling, stranger—then dropped to the warped floorboards. He turned and pushed the door open without a word, a silent invitation. Inside, the warmth hit first: stale air thick with dog fur, pine sap, and the metallic bite of unwashed dishes. A yellow…