Will woke up from a restless sleep, his body feeling unnaturally heavy. He groggily opened his eyes, only to be greeted by the silhouette of a man kneeling next to the couch. His head pounded relentlessly as he tried to recognize his surroundings and the man beside him, each throb echoing through his skull.

Suddenly, he felt a hand brushing his sweat-soaked curls away from his forehead – a touch he recognized instantly. "You've had me worried since you passed out, Will." Hannibal said, his eyes glinting with curiosity and interest as he observed Will.

Hannibal leaned over Will, and gently, his fingers brushed against his neck. He placed his hand just below his jawline, his fingertips seeking the steady pulse of the carotid artery. The warmth of Will's skin seeped into Hannibal's hand, a stark contrast to the coolness of his own touch.