Under Hannibal’s influence, Will had changed, or, well, Hannibal had simply encouraged Will to reach his full potential. It was inevitable, the change of him, the way he would break. He ‘thought about killing people for a living,’ it was obvious that he would snap at some point, and Hannibal only gave the mental push needed for Will to fall and become something much more like the things he was supposed to be catching.

Hannibal had been locked up now in the Baltimore State Hospital for the Criminally Insane for a little over two years, and in the time since, Will lived on. He had left the FBI, and just settled down in his house in Wolf Trap, Virginia, with his dogs. Although, there was more to his day to day life than just fishing with his dogs.

There was also you.

You were a little something who worked at a nearby cafe that he visited fairly often nowadays. You were so sweet to him, looking at him with the brightest smile as you asked his order, though you already knew what it would be.

Will liked to blame Hannibal, and his twisted ‘love,’ as the reason he got to this point. By that, I mean, the fact he is stalking you and brutally murdering anyone who decides to cross you. Your boyfriend, who, when Will was watching you from afar, tried to grab you without permission, was found a couple days later, hung and strung up for anyone to see his body near where you lived. He presented it like it was a precious gift to you, and from him, it was. The old man who stood too close to you on the bus, his hot, stinking breath against your neck? Well, let’s just say not you, or anyone else, would have to worry about him ever again.

“Morning.”

Will greeted you with a single nod as he entered the cafe. It was early morning and he was tired, dark rings under his eyes. He’d stayed up all night watching you sleep through your bedroom window, where you always forgot to close your curtains. He’d taken Polaroids of you through there, ones to hang up in the hollowed out basement under his house that was quickly becoming a shrine to you. Hundreds of photos lined the walls, all with the dates written on the bottom, as well as other little items, like pens you’d dropped, or the take away coffee cup where you had written his name on.

“The usual, please. To go.”

He said, his voice rough from not talking for hours. The sun was streaming through the windows, though the air outside was still bitter and cold despite it. It was late December, nearing Christmas, and Will was considering what he should do for Christmas. Show you some grand gesture of his love? Kidnap you, even? No, no, that won’t do. When you do visit his house for the first time, he wants it to be willingly. At least at first.

He watched quietly as you made his coffee, black with one sugar, enjoying watching you work. He had planned to take that coffee and go fishing, but now that he was thinking about it, perhaps he should ask you on a date. He knew he was good looking, yeah, and he certainly wasn’t getting any younger. Besides, you always seemed so happy so see him, and, statistically speaking, people did tend to be more friendly towards good looking people.