Hannibal peered over at (y/n). He watched as her chest gently rose and fell as she slept. He walked closer to her and leaned down. Their faces were inches apart. He took a whiff of (y/n)'s hair. He smiled at the pleasant smell she emitted. He found a hair brush and collected some of the hair on it. He tucked the strands in his back pocket.

Hannibal then proceeded to walk around the house, familiarizing himself with the place. He noted that the backyard gave little view to the neighbors. Tall trees border the property and houses placed far apart.

He checked on (y/n). She moved around in her sleep causing the bed sheets to fall off her body. Revealing the short shorts and baggy sweater she was wearing. She laid on her side. One leg raised at waist level and the other pointing straight as she held her pillow. (y/n)'s smooth skin glistened in the afternoon sun and her hair fell out of the tie and was sprawled out across the pillow. Her lips slightly parted and cheek smushed a little as it rested on her arm.

Hannibal had to step out of the room to keep his composure. He bit his lip and readjusted his pants. This feeling of attraction was overwhelming for him. He never felt this emotion before, what was it? Fear, happiness, admiration? He pushed down his thoughts and regained his normal calm demeanor.

Hannibal remembered he brought food ingredients. He decided to make (y/n) a meal to push away some intrusive thoughts. He reached into the cooler he previously placed on the counter. He pulled out a fresh bag of raw meat. He molded a patty out of the ground meat. And began to cook.

"What are you making?" a groggy voice asked. (y/n) stood in the doorway of the kitchen.

"A cheeseburger and fries." Hannibal said as he plated the food.

"Really?!" (y/n) jumped and clasped her hands together. Hannibal chuckled and brought the plate over to (y/n). "Wow. somehow you manage to make a cheeseburger look elegant." Hannibal smiled as she took a bite. "So good! Thank you."

"I'm glad you like it."

"grab your plate and come eat in my room." She disappeared into the bedroom.

Hannibal glanced at the kitchen table but then decided to follow (y/n).

Her small body wobbled when she quickly sat down on the bed. "Come sit over here." She patted the bedding next to her. She noticed Hannibal's hesitation. "Loosen up" She chuckled. "Not everything has to be formal all the time." She smiled. The extra sleep put her in a much better mood.

Hannibal sat next to her and watched her turn on the tv and flip through channels. They both started to eat. (y/n) sat with her legs criss crossed and leaned against the head board with a pillow behind her. Hannibal's posture was very stiff. His legs hung off the bed and he sat straight up. (y/n) chuckled at his bewilder reaction to the causality of everything.

"would you like to talk about the event that triggered your anxiety attack this morning?" He asked as he cut up his burger with a fork and knife.

"Ok." (y/n) adverted her gaze from Hannibal.

"Start off with what you saw."

"A man gutted and tied to a car... Antlers were protruding from his chest." She stared at the bedsheets, detached. "When I was taking a nap before, I had a nightmare about what happened." She paused. "I was the one tied to the car." (Y/n) started to clench her hands and breathe heavily.

"(y/n) look at me." Hannibal knew another attack was coming. He tried to redirect her attention but her chest only rose and fell more dramatically. "(y/n) you need to look at me." He commanded. She started to shake. Hannibal tried everything and nothing seemed to get through to her. So he just embraced her. His hand pressed her head into his chest and the other wrapped around her waist tightly.

Her breathing slowed and the shaking stopped. Hannibal gently let go of her. She collected her breath.

"I'm sorry... I over reacted." Her voice was shaky as she spoke.

"Do not apologize for something you can't control." His voice showed no signs of distress, he was completely calm.

"That was the first time I got through a panic attack without taking my medication. Thank you." Her bright eyes looked up at Hannibal in gratitude. But then she finally realized how close they are to each other and how he just held her. Blush engulfed her cheeks.

After (y/n) seemed recovered from her attack Hannibal sparked up the conversation. He wanted to probe how she felt and thought.

"How did you feel when you saw the crime scene?"

"I felt scared and helpless. How could someone do that to another person and why?" Her eyes pleaded for the answer.

"Some view the world differently from others. Perhaps the killer perceived his actions to be just, where as from our point of view they're barbaric." Hannibal suggested.

(y/n) stared at the corner of the room. collecting her thoughts. "Whoever did it, did it in rage. The entire concept of the murder was anger."

"How so?"

"The antlers and cut off eyelids proved that." She continued to stare at the bedsheets and ball them up in her fists. She closed her eyes a practiced her breathing, then continued "But from what I could tell all the cuts were precise and neat. If the killer was truly enraged at the victim than the cuts would have been reckless and messy, Desperate to inflict any kind of pain on the man. So it shows that the killer wasn't directly angered at the man. He was angered at something larger than the man and wanted to prove a point. Which is scary because that means anyone can be his next victim."She bit the inside of her cheek at the thought. She broke eye contact with the bedsheets. "Sorry I got carried away." She rubbed the back of her neck and adverted Hannibal's gaze.

"No, don't apologize." Hannibal said while he stared at (y/n).

"I got carried away and now I'm just spitting nonsense.

"Not at all. You said the killer had a point to prove. What was his point?" He sat in anticipation at her response.

"The killer in this murder must be the Chesapeake ripper, based on the consistencies. Taking in account all the murders, he doesn't have a point." She scratched her cheek "He did it just because he wanted to."

"What do you mean?" Hannibal asked, faking ignorance. (y/n) is so close to the truth nearly on top of it.

"He has no motive, he has no point. He kills people for entertainment and to tame curiosity. But what stumps me is the missing organs." (y/n)'s eyebrows furrow. She couldn't put the pieces together. "Because he's clearly a psychopath. Has no motive, or empathy, so why would he collect souvenirs?"

It took all of Hannibal's control to hold in his excitement. She's on top of the truth. so close to discovering that he is the Chesapeake ripper.

"But I'm just speculating. I know nothing. I'm not an FBI agent. Probably everything I said was wrong." She chuckled.

"You are very perceptive and intelligent." She is right she's not an agent so how was she able to figure all of this out and not even the FBI's best detective, Will Graham could?

"I'm not but thank you."

"My pleasure" Hannibal reached into his coat pocket and pull out a book. "Do you mind if I read this?"

"No, go ahead." (y/n) bent her arms behind her head and stretched. Her stomach and a little of her ribcage was exposed. Hannibal glanced over.

(y/n) watched tv as Hannibal read. Eventually (y/n) grew bored.

"What are you reading?"

"The Scarlet Letter by Nathaniel Hawthorne. About a young woman who conceived a child in an affair. She is viewed as a whore and less than scum."

"I heard of it before."

"Despite the tarnished reputation she resiliently raises her daughter, because she believes it's the right thing to do. Humans pick and choose what is right or wrong, they judge. When the same bible they're preaching only allows God to judge us." He closed the book and looked at the cover. "Who are we to say the Chesapeake ripper killings are wrong?"

"If that's the case then who is the Chesapeake ripper to say that his murders are right?"

"Exactly." He opened the book and found his place on the page he left off.

Before he could read (y/n) interrupted. "Can you read to me?" She quietly said like a child, too shy to ask for a bedtime story.

Hannibal paused and admired her beauty. "Of course."

(y/n) laid on her side and watched Hannibal's finger slide across the page as he read.

"It is a curious subject of observation and inquiry, whether hatred and love be not the same thing at bottom." Hannibal paused to glance at (y/n). Her eyes stared back. He continued, "Each, in its utmost development, supposes a high degree of intimacy and heart-knowledge; each renders one individual dependent for the food of his affections and spiritual life upon another; each leaves the passionate lover, or the no less passionate hater, forlorn and desolate by the withdrawal of his object."

(y/n) became entranced my Hannibal's smooth voice. She sunk deeper into the mattress and stared at his lips as the words dripped out of his mouth like honey.

~~~

I know that was somewhat of a long chapter. Thanks for reading!