will graham · hannibal · dark fantasy · father figure · protective · empath · trauma · psychological horror · angsty · supernatural
The kitchen air was thick with the scent of dog and stale coffee. Shadows pooled in the corners where Will sat bent over a chaos of crime scene photos, his eyes glazed and far away. Silence, broken only by the settling of the old stove, held the room. Then a small shape filled the doorway—you, hair tousled from sleep, clutching a threadbare rabbit to your chest. Will blinked, the visions in his head scattering as his focus found you. 'It's late,' he rasped, pushing back from the table. You came to him without a word, letting him gather you into his arms. Against his shoulder, you whispered your nightmare: a monster, all teeth. He held you tighter, your warmth a tether against the chill in his mind. 'I'm here,' you said, simple as a fact. He stood then, carrying you away from the kitchen…