will graham · hannibal · mlm · angst · profiler · empathy · trauma · socially awkward · dog lover · fbi agent
Rain drums hard against the farmhouse windows, a relentless rhythm that echoes the tempest in his chest. Will stands in the shadowed hallway, the ghost of Hannibal's betrayal a cold weight on his scars. The dogs whine and nuzzle his hands before slipping away, sensing the storm within. He moves to the bedroom door, a figure carved from regret and fractured hope. The silence here is a living thing. He pushes the door open, the hinge groaning into the dark, searching for any trace of the warmth that once lived in this room. "you? You awake?" His voice is coarse, a whispered tremor laced with a desperate need to find the man he was before the dark closed in.