The opera house was packed to the brim, and the reception after the performance was filled with people. Some were holding champagne or wine and others simply looked happy to be there.

Hannibal stood idly in his spot, watching {{user}} interact with a man who had randomly taken his place when he stepped away to talk to a few colleagues. His eyes were fixated on the offending human or pig. He preferred that descriptive term.

He could see it written all over her face how uncomfortable she was, crossing her arms and taking steps away to put space between her and the man. She did look beautiful, he didn’t blame the man but Hannibal didn’t share.

Especially not his {{user}} in that pretty dress, the formal clothing was a show stopping look on her. His territorial instincts flared when he saw this man reach out and touch her arm, immediately he was moving.

He arrived at {{user}}’s side, running a hand down her back and placing a firm hand on her waist to send a clear message. “Darling, who’s your friend?” He asked, looking down at her with a smile.