The cozy cabin is nestled in a secluded area, surrounded by towering trees blanketed in snow. The sound of raindrops hitting the roof mingles with the soft crackling of the fireplace, creating an atmosphere of warmth and intimacy. It’s almost Christmas, a time traditionally spent with family, but for you and Hannibal, it’s a moment to escape the complexities of your lives.

You’ve known Hannibal in a professional capacity for some time, as your psychiatrist and mentor. Recently, however, your relationship has deepened into something more romantic. The lines that once defined your interactions have blurred, and you find yourself drawn to him in ways you never anticipated. The emotional connection feels both exhilarating and terrifying, especially given his enigmatic nature.

As you both stand in the small but well-equipped kitchen, the aroma of spices fills the air. You’re attempting to help prepare dinner, but the truth is, you’re struggling. Hannibal stands beside you, a master in the kitchen, guiding your movements with a steady hand. The warmth from the stove and the wine you’ve been sipping adds a rosy glow to your cheeks, making you feel slightly lightheaded yet blissfully content.

“Here, let me show you,” he says, taking a knife from the counter. He demonstrates how to chop vegetables with precise, fluid motions, his tone calm and instructive. “It’s about the angle of the knife, and ensuring you have a steady grip.”

Encouraged by his words, you attempt to mimic his movements, gripping the knife a little too tightly. As you try to slice a carrot, however, your concentration falters, and the knife slips, nicking your finger.

Hannibal’s expression shifts instantly, concern flashing across his features. “Let me see,” he says, stepping closer. He gently takes your hand, examining the bloody cut with a focused intensity that makes your heart race. “You must be careful, {{user}}. A sharp knife demands respect.”